So suggested an English sociologist in 1955, noting how the sexual taboos of the 19th century were becoming fair game for common observance and conversation, while something quite commonly observed in Victorian culture – the reality of death – had become taboo and shocking to our 20th century sentiments.
Nowadays we do our best to avoid thinking about death at all, unless it’s in some over-the-top way connected to action or horror movies that are sufficiently removed from our ordinary experience. People now die in facilities instead of the home, usually a good 20 years later than they might have died in past centuries. Healthcare improvements have also greatly reduced the death toll of infant and childhood disease. As a result, many of us can go the better part of our lives without witnessing death up close and personal. We’ve shoved that future certainty way, way, way back in our minds and instead live out of a functional mindset that we’re more or less immortal. And when the depression of death remembrance creeps up on us, we just beat it back down again through another exciting relationship, or fun vacation, or shopping binge, or daring feat. But over time, it takes more and more to chase the specter away.
In his book Remember Death, Matthew McCullough contrasts two views of death. The first represents how most of us (even Christians!) view death most of the time. French philosopher Michel de Montaigne “suggests we imagine a group of condemned criminals being led to the place of their execution. Imagine that along the way the prisoners are led through a number of fine houses, offered any and every enjoyable experience they might wish for: exquisite entertainment, delicious food, anything. ‘Do you think they can enjoy it or that having the final purpose of their journey ever before their eyes will not spoil their taste for such entertainment?’ In other words, what would imminent death do the criminal’s appetite for pleasure? How could he enjoy any of these delicacies when he knows everything is about to end? He couldn’t, at least not fully. Instead, ‘he inquires about the way; he counts the days; the length of his life is the length of those roads. He is tortured by future anguish.” The point: “death is a guest at every party.” And when this is our view of death, “every good thing comes tainted.”
What if, though, just the opposite is our reality in Christ? If where you’re headed isn’t your demise, but rather a fuller life than you’ve ever known, well then what do you do with the pleasures of this life along the way? The Church Father Augustine (354-430) put it this way: “To enlighten and enable us, the whole temporal dispensation was set up by divine providence for our salvation. We must make use of this, not with a permanent love and enjoyment of it, but with a transient love and enjoyment of our journey, or of our conveyances, so to speak, or any other expedients whatsoever…so that we love the means of transport only because of our destination.”
So in the Christian view, the pleasures will also be tempered, but not by dread. They can be enjoyed – precisely because they aren’t an ultimate destination. McCullough concludes: “Jesus’ death and resurrection have purchased freedom to enjoy what you have even when you know you’re going to lose it. Enjoy your vacation even though it’ll be over in a flash. Enjoy parenting your preschoolers even though they’ll be grown in the blink of an eye. Enjoy your friendships. Enjoy your marriage. Enjoy your productivity at work. Enjoy whatever health you have left in your body. Of course these things won’t last. Yes, it will hurt when they’re gone. But they don’t have to last to be wonderful. They are delicious, God-given, God-glorifying appetizers for the hearty and satisfying meal that’s still to come. They are true and worthy foretastes of the banquet spread for all peoples. And Jesus saves the best wine for last.”
You don’t have to avoid thinking about death. It is horrific, sad, and painful. It is coming for you. But then – in Christ – comes the lasting life you were really created for. You won’t miss what you’ve left behind!