THE BEAUTY AND THE BEAST OF DEATH: PASTORAL CARE PERSPECTIVE
Death is always something very far until it hits like lighting near you, suddenly it becomes very close. It is a perfectly normal cycle of life but there are two sides to the same coin. Death has beauty and there is the beast of it. Both of these sides are coming hand in hand with death and these sides cannot be separated from each other. They are the sides of the same coin. You do not get the beauty of death without the ugliness of it, or visa-versa. However, it depends on which side are you comfortable looking for. Death has a twin, and that twin is life.
The passing of the people that I knew and have been close to since the beginning of the year made me face head-on, my mortality. So, I found myself asking this question over and over, “death, oh death, where is your sting? From where I am standing, death is the beast. It uprooted, violated, deprived, and demolished my sense of security, to say the least. Also, (Jeremiah 31:15) paints this picture of being stripped and robbed by death when he says, “this is what the LORD says: “A cry is heard in Ramah— deep anguish and bitter weeping. Rachel weeps for her children, refusing to be comforted— for her children are gone.”
That is the violation at its best and the ugliest side of death. It takes away brusquely without any notice; most of the time, what is dear and on what our sense of security is built. As a mother myself, I cannot imagine what Rachel is going through, and I can understand her refusal to be consoled. How do you become calm amid violation, robbery, deprivation, and eradication? The hurt, anguish, and the bitterness that death brings is evident from the above text. Its ugliness ripped Rachel's heart out of her chest. The sadness, tears, and anguish are attempts to fight back and announce the injustice that death brings. The refusal to be comforted is justice to her. The anguish and sadness are fighting for justice. The life as Rachel knew it turned bitter and sour simultaneously. Where does one begin to make sense of non-sense? When one cannot pray away death?
It is the beast because it breaks the family chain, the collegiality chain, sisterly/brotherly chain, and/or parental bond. A lot of pain is experienced, unlike any other pain. The pains of birth, however, make sense and can be explained, because amid those labor pains there is a joy waiting for you. The writer of the book of (Hebrews 12:2) encapsulates it so well with these words. “fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”
On the other hand, death brings finality so to speak. In John 16:22 Jesus says, “now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice ….”. There is another side of death and is the beauty of death. This site is where there is joy. Let me explain this, in Luke 23: 45-47” the sun was darkened, and the veil of the temple was torn down the middle. Then Jesus called out in a loud voice, “Father, into Your hands I commit My Spirit.” And when He had said this, He breathed His last. When the centurion saw what had happened, he gave glory to God, saying, “Surely this was a righteous man. ”
That is beauty, right there in-between the above lines, sorrow, sadness, hurt is mixed with love, peace, and beauty. What a paradox! The beauty of surrender, the beauty of finality, the beauty of getting to the finishing line. The peace of not having to need security, the love of giving, and surrendering one's soul and beauty of crossing over with no sorrow, no pain. There is preparedness in all of this. However, the sense of preparedness does not mean the management of death, even the management of life for that matter (Louw,2008). Beauty is knowing that there is more to life than just surviving. The beauty is knowing that we have lived, and did not just simply visit this world, (Mary Oliver). There is the beauty of stepping out of the door full of curiosity, and anticipation of what is waiting. As a pastoral caregiver, I have had the privilege of sharing very sacred and intimate spaces with the people who were dying. There is something about death, that is both painful and peaceful, and in that one finds raw humanity that is mixed with Divinity. In that space, one comes face to face with one’s vulnerability as a person not as a pastoral caregiver. That is liberating because one does not have to know or explain anything. The freedom of just being a human being next to the bed of the other human being, experiencing rawness of humanity mixed with Divinity.
As Peter Fox puts it, “our life essence our connection to meaning, truth, and beauty, our deep relationship to self and others is all part of spirituality. To live and be loved, to be respected, to be forgiven. To be validated to be understood. These are all crucial spiritual needs. Death offers us a chance to see the spiritual wherever we look. To see the sacred in simple objects.”
