Last night, we had a tremendous thunderstorm that sent the dog scrambling between my legs at every turn. This morning, a warm front is moving in and with all that rain, spring is on. The grass suddenly is greening, just like that, and the feel of growth is everywhere. Nature is joyfully desperate to live, and nothing short of some horrible holocaust can stop it. Life is meant to live, to grow, to fight and struggle to stay alive and reproduce for more life.
Such it is and such it has to be, for dying is the easiest of things. Just stop eating, or, if you are human and don’t live in a caretaker society, just stop working – hunting, gardening, fishing, or whatever it is that one does to stay alive. Same with the animals – stop flying from cats, stop picking for worms, whatever – just give up, and you are dead sooner rather than later. Without the strong will to live, we and other species simply would not live.
Not so in the mythical Garden of Eden, and not so in the dreams of heaven. In the hobo song, “The Big Rock Candy Mountain,” cigarettes grow on trees, whisky trickles down the rocks, and there is a lake full of stew. No work, no problems – but that sort of paradise, as far as we can tell, has nothing to do with “here.” Here we struggle not only today but in our minds for tomorrow, living in daily fear of what the doctor will have to say about that stomach pain, or about that deep fatigue. Live, live, live, no matter what; live no matter if it is off a garbage dump in Manila; live even if we must cut off our limbs to beg, or even worse.
In contrast, we are told by the great prophets that we should not fear death. Jesus tells us not to worry, for what worry has ever brought a moment more of life? We are told to live like the sparrows or the lilies of the field, by the grace of God’s will. But we know, as Adam knew after his expulsion, that Man must now work by the sweat of his brow. We know that if we do not, we will die. We do not want to die. Where is the truth to heaven? Where is the truth in living by God’s grace?
I have read many books about extraordinary people who were able to survive pure hell by extreme grit – through an iron will to live. One memorable one was The Long Walk, by a Polish officer captured in WWII and sentenced to years and years in one of Stalin’s Siberian gulags. They had wanted to kill him, and he was tortured to confess that he was a spy. He refused, enduring terror and pain, because, by God, THEY were not going to kill him! It was this stubborn anger that carried him through to the gulag, and then to escape – where he and some others had to walk through much of Siberia, the Gobi desert, and over the Himalayas to British India. He made it after freezing, boiling, starving, thirsting – every misery extreme nature could throw at him. He retired later to England where he nursed his mental wounds, apparently for the rest of his life. But he had survived the impossible.
Then there is the popular book made into the movie, Unbroken, about the bad -boy –turned Olympic runner who was taken into the USAF to fight the Japanese in WWII. Most of us now know the story – his plane went down in the Pacific, he drifted for over 40 days with almost no food and water, then was captured and tortured and starved and nearly worked to death by the Japanese. He survived. Afterward, he suffered miserably from PTSD for several years, then was saved by religion and lived to nearly 100, helping troubled children and people in general throughout the rest of his life.
One life put forever on hold, another released to do good in the world, specifically because of religion. But that is not the point here; rather, it is to ask the question: how much is living worth to you? I have recently read of the extermination/mining camps of the Nazis, and how the Jews and those other “undesirables” were worked and starved to death in poisonous caves. One who survived talked of those who would give up – the walking dead – and it could be seen in their faces. They had decided to die, and did so. I recall a bit of disgust by this author over this – where was their grit, their defiance, their will? Many of us might agree, for we all admire the person who never, ever gives up –for in life, giving up is the easiest thing to do. Yet I have thought about it, and I believe I would have been one of those who would give up. Unless I received some special kind of grace, after freezing and starving, after seeing that there was little hope, I would have just let nature take its course. Call me a coward, but I have seen this in nature, too. Grab a field mouse, for example. He will first struggle to get free, bight and squirm and do whatever, but after he finds it useless, he will give up. It is true that mice are nature’s candy, and they must know it, yet isn’t there something wise in this? Isn’t it wise, sometimes, to give in to death?
On one level, it pits the world against spirit; why should one fight so hard against the inevitable? One is only going back to God – what’s the problem? Isn’t it a lack of faith that causes us to struggle so? Aren’t we mocking God’s will, standing up to the mountain that is too big, ever, to move? Many a martyr might agree. In might even be that in fighting so hard, we are displaying our fear of death. For most in such extreme examples, this is not the case, but isn’t it so for many of the old who cling to life so desperately?
On another level, such clinging shows an appreciation for life, and our willingness to endure pain to stay with it – which might be another form of spiritual grace. Our Long Walk subject apparently remained bitter; our Unbroken hero made it through to the other side, where bitterness evaporated precisely because of the ordeal, without which he would never have found God.
I seldom start these blogs knowing exactly where they will go; rather, I posit a question or situation to find out where it will take me. It is a learning experience and a big reason why I write. Here, I am forced to back off my original contention that dying might be the noblest thing of all. It might be, it is true, for dying might take more courage than struggling to stay alive. But it might just be giving in to despair as well (which I can still see myself doing. Heroes are heroes because they are special). For the sparrows and the lilies of the field, they do as they were made to do, one way or the other; for humans, we make choices, and the reason for those choices are paramount. Do we stay alive out of spite, or because we see it as our duty, our call to learn and grow? To do the latter takes the greatest courage of all – practically that of a saint. But for our Unbroken man, who survived out of orneriness, the growth came later, unknown beforehand to him. It came from grace out of his suffering. Perhaps that is what we more normal people might learn – that staying alive might have a purpose, even if we are frightened or miserable in the process. But also, that dying might have its purpose, too.
In the scriptures, I believe what is meant - this living by the grace of God - is not to fling off work and live like a Bohemian, but rather, to find as best we can the will of God in our own life – that is, the spark that makes us the sparrow, the lilly, the direct product of God. In other words, to give our will as best we can to that other will, and then fight like hell if necessary to attain its, and now our, goals.
Suffering to stay alive is not always worth it, but sometimes it is. It depends on the internal content to the sufferer, and whether he can read the signs. I pray I could do so under such circumstances, whether it be to die or to live. I also pray to keep the bitterest cup from my lips, but that is not up to me. Courage, yes, and faith, which is courage’s best companion. Either way, life or death, we could all be heroes. FK
Such it is and such it has to be, for dying is the easiest of things. Just stop eating, or, if you are human and don’t live in a caretaker society, just stop working – hunting, gardening, fishing, or whatever it is that one does to stay alive. Same with the animals – stop flying from cats, stop picking for worms, whatever – just give up, and you are dead sooner rather than later. Without the strong will to live, we and other species simply would not live.
Not so in the mythical Garden of Eden, and not so in the dreams of heaven. In the hobo song, “The Big Rock Candy Mountain,” cigarettes grow on trees, whisky trickles down the rocks, and there is a lake full of stew. No work, no problems – but that sort of paradise, as far as we can tell, has nothing to do with “here.” Here we struggle not only today but in our minds for tomorrow, living in daily fear of what the doctor will have to say about that stomach pain, or about that deep fatigue. Live, live, live, no matter what; live no matter if it is off a garbage dump in Manila; live even if we must cut off our limbs to beg, or even worse.
In contrast, we are told by the great prophets that we should not fear death. Jesus tells us not to worry, for what worry has ever brought a moment more of life? We are told to live like the sparrows or the lilies of the field, by the grace of God’s will. But we know, as Adam knew after his expulsion, that Man must now work by the sweat of his brow. We know that if we do not, we will die. We do not want to die. Where is the truth to heaven? Where is the truth in living by God’s grace?
I have read many books about extraordinary people who were able to survive pure hell by extreme grit – through an iron will to live. One memorable one was The Long Walk, by a Polish officer captured in WWII and sentenced to years and years in one of Stalin’s Siberian gulags. They had wanted to kill him, and he was tortured to confess that he was a spy. He refused, enduring terror and pain, because, by God, THEY were not going to kill him! It was this stubborn anger that carried him through to the gulag, and then to escape – where he and some others had to walk through much of Siberia, the Gobi desert, and over the Himalayas to British India. He made it after freezing, boiling, starving, thirsting – every misery extreme nature could throw at him. He retired later to England where he nursed his mental wounds, apparently for the rest of his life. But he had survived the impossible.
Then there is the popular book made into the movie, Unbroken, about the bad -boy –turned Olympic runner who was taken into the USAF to fight the Japanese in WWII. Most of us now know the story – his plane went down in the Pacific, he drifted for over 40 days with almost no food and water, then was captured and tortured and starved and nearly worked to death by the Japanese. He survived. Afterward, he suffered miserably from PTSD for several years, then was saved by religion and lived to nearly 100, helping troubled children and people in general throughout the rest of his life.
One life put forever on hold, another released to do good in the world, specifically because of religion. But that is not the point here; rather, it is to ask the question: how much is living worth to you? I have recently read of the extermination/mining camps of the Nazis, and how the Jews and those other “undesirables” were worked and starved to death in poisonous caves. One who survived talked of those who would give up – the walking dead – and it could be seen in their faces. They had decided to die, and did so. I recall a bit of disgust by this author over this – where was their grit, their defiance, their will? Many of us might agree, for we all admire the person who never, ever gives up –for in life, giving up is the easiest thing to do. Yet I have thought about it, and I believe I would have been one of those who would give up. Unless I received some special kind of grace, after freezing and starving, after seeing that there was little hope, I would have just let nature take its course. Call me a coward, but I have seen this in nature, too. Grab a field mouse, for example. He will first struggle to get free, bight and squirm and do whatever, but after he finds it useless, he will give up. It is true that mice are nature’s candy, and they must know it, yet isn’t there something wise in this? Isn’t it wise, sometimes, to give in to death?
On one level, it pits the world against spirit; why should one fight so hard against the inevitable? One is only going back to God – what’s the problem? Isn’t it a lack of faith that causes us to struggle so? Aren’t we mocking God’s will, standing up to the mountain that is too big, ever, to move? Many a martyr might agree. In might even be that in fighting so hard, we are displaying our fear of death. For most in such extreme examples, this is not the case, but isn’t it so for many of the old who cling to life so desperately?
On another level, such clinging shows an appreciation for life, and our willingness to endure pain to stay with it – which might be another form of spiritual grace. Our Long Walk subject apparently remained bitter; our Unbroken hero made it through to the other side, where bitterness evaporated precisely because of the ordeal, without which he would never have found God.
I seldom start these blogs knowing exactly where they will go; rather, I posit a question or situation to find out where it will take me. It is a learning experience and a big reason why I write. Here, I am forced to back off my original contention that dying might be the noblest thing of all. It might be, it is true, for dying might take more courage than struggling to stay alive. But it might just be giving in to despair as well (which I can still see myself doing. Heroes are heroes because they are special). For the sparrows and the lilies of the field, they do as they were made to do, one way or the other; for humans, we make choices, and the reason for those choices are paramount. Do we stay alive out of spite, or because we see it as our duty, our call to learn and grow? To do the latter takes the greatest courage of all – practically that of a saint. But for our Unbroken man, who survived out of orneriness, the growth came later, unknown beforehand to him. It came from grace out of his suffering. Perhaps that is what we more normal people might learn – that staying alive might have a purpose, even if we are frightened or miserable in the process. But also, that dying might have its purpose, too.
In the scriptures, I believe what is meant - this living by the grace of God - is not to fling off work and live like a Bohemian, but rather, to find as best we can the will of God in our own life – that is, the spark that makes us the sparrow, the lilly, the direct product of God. In other words, to give our will as best we can to that other will, and then fight like hell if necessary to attain its, and now our, goals.
Suffering to stay alive is not always worth it, but sometimes it is. It depends on the internal content to the sufferer, and whether he can read the signs. I pray I could do so under such circumstances, whether it be to die or to live. I also pray to keep the bitterest cup from my lips, but that is not up to me. Courage, yes, and faith, which is courage’s best companion. Either way, life or death, we could all be heroes. FK
RSS Feed