Death...what happens next?

Parker Palmer is an author I've appreciated and respected for many years. He is now approaching 80 and his recent book is called On the Brink of Everything.

It is really a collection of essays on various aspects of ageing. The section I found most thought-provoking include his thoughts on what happens when we die:

"I learned long ago how much I do not know, so I won't be shocked if death has surprises in store for me. But amid all my not knowing, I'm certain of two things: when we die, our bodies return to the earth, and the earth knows how to turn death into new life. When my own small life ends in some version of wind and fire, my body will be transformed by the same alchemy that keeps making all things new, witness this wilderness. [Note: Palmer makes an annual pilgrimage to a remote area called Boundary Waters where he observes nature's rhythms.] As the medieval alchemists dreamed, dross will be turned into gold.

        It matters not to me whether I am resurrected in a loon calling from the lake, a sun-glazed pine, a wildflower on the forest floor, the stuff that fertilizes those trees and flowers, or the Northern Lights and the stars that lie beyond them. It's all good and it's all gold, a vast web of life in which body and spirit are one.

        I won't be glad to say goodbye to life, to challenges that help me grow, to gifts freely given, or to everyone  and everything I love. But I'll be glad to play a bit part in making new life possible for others. That's a prospect that makes life worth dying for.

       Twenty annual pilgrimages to this holy place called the Boundary Waters have convinced me that Julian of Norwich got it right: 'All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.' "

Like Palmer I am more and more aware of what I don't know. I certainly don't claim to know what happens when we die. Traditional notions of heaven and hell may serve a metaphorical purpose but they don't serve me well in any definitive way now. I'm not saying I agree - or disagree - with Palmer in what he writes above. But I am drawn to his observation that "our bodies return to the earth and the earth knows how to turn death into new life." I certainly believe in resurrection - but exactly what that means or looks like I really don't know. I am happy to trust the Creator of this marvellous universe to maintain the flow of life - death - life. If nature is "God's other book", as has often been said, it is constantly putting that reality before our eyes.

Small drops of kindness, justice and blessing...

I often mention the Gratefulness site. This morning I was attracted to a Blog with the heading You are Me and I am You I hope you take the time to read it. Here's just one quote:

"Every time you replace hatred with love, overcome your nagging desire for the umpteenth ‘last’ drink, replace your usual biting retort to your companion with silence or – why not – kindness, you are helping all those on the planet struggling with the same challenge, be it in an infinitesimal manner. Which drop of water constituting an ocean is unimportant? The longest mile is made up of many inches."

In some intuitive way we probably know this is true but so often my small drop of kindness can feel so insignificant. If I take one step towards justice by quietly speaking out when a casual conversation veers towards racism, it may seem to fall on deaf ears. Yet millions of drops create a river of kindness and billions of inches eventually circumnavigate the globe.

The writer of this Blog is someone I've never heard of but he has written a book about praying blessings for ourselves and others. He says: "There is hardly a moment in life during which it is not possible to bless. In the street, on the bus or underground, at work, at home with your companion or family, your silent blessings will uplift and heal."

The more well known known author, John O'Donahue, has also written a Book of Blessings so maybe this Biblical practice of blessing others is being rediscovered as something that really does carry spiritual substance.

Of course, like any spiritual practice, it can become rote and done without heart. I cringe a bit if someone says "Bless you!" as a throw away comment. But sincerely wanting the person I pass on the street, or the barista in the cafe, to feel warmed by an unseen blessing is one of those drops in the ocean of love. I expect I will fail many times every day (in the same way I 'fail' many times to stay focussed in twenty minutes of meditation!) but when I do remember it will change how I am towards others and we will both be blessed.