This past week Peter Marty, the editor of The Christian Century, wrote about obituaries and perhaps why we should consider not just reading them but writing our own. It’s an interesting thought. What is it that we want others to think of us? How we lived? What we did or ourselves, and for others?
I am an obituary reader, and not just the ones in The New York Times. Our obituaries often mask the reality of death by using such language as “passed into heaven” or “passed into new life.” Rarely, except in the Times, do we see the word “died.” Then the obit goes on to list family and accomplishments.
What is it we would like in our own obituaries? It’s a daunting thought, of course, since it assumes we would be dead. What’s in it probably depends on who writes it. Do our family members really know what we are about, who we are, how we lived, and what was most important to us? Perhaps, perhaps not. Only God knows who we are, but God does not write the obituary.
Prayer for the Day
Our mortal lives too short for what we want to do, O God,
And they often end before our intended tasks are done;
In our struggles to be your disciples, we fail both ourselves and you,
We ask for your grace to show in our relationships with others.
Embrace us and enable us to share your grace with others,
As we continue our mortal journey in this world.
In the name of the One who embraces us all,
Even Christ Jesus our Lord, Amen.
Thoughts for the Day
I read obituaries first thing in the morning. With a cup of coffee. This is NOT MORBID. Just epic. Maybe it's a way of trying to figure out, before the day begins, what is important
Maira Kalman, American artist and illustrator
Obituaries …inform, enlighten, and occasionally amuse. Sometimes they say very little; other times they seem to reveal too much. All of them remind us of our impermanence, which is why we shouldn’t be surprised that obituaries are the most visited section in print newspapers. We’re more than a little curious about how close in age we might be to the most recently deceased.
Peter W. Marty, “What We Live For,” The Christian Century
You turn us back to dust, and say, “Turn back you mortals.”
For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past,
Or like a watch in the night
You sweep them away; they are like a dream, like grass renewed in the morning,
In the morning it flourishes and is renewed; in the evening it fades and withers.
Psalm 90: 3-6