The Death Rate

by Andrew Forrest

There’s something just so strange about death, even though it’s entirely predictable.  I had this thought last week, after hearing about the death of a young mother in our congregation and thinking about her surviving husband and three school-aged sons: we are all so grieved at the loss, and yet every single one of us is also going to die.  Not all of us will die by violence or disease or accident, not all of us will die young, but every single person hearing of the loss of this woman and grieving for her husband and three sons is also going to die.  And it just struck me how strange this all is, both our shock at death (which shouldn’t be any more shocking than the sunrise) and the mystery that is death itself.

What’s that old saw?  “The death rate hasn’t changed: it’s still one per person.”

 

 

 

P.S.  Changes to this Blog

Starting Friday, August 24 through Monday, December 24, at Munger we are going to be reading through the New Testament.  I’m planning on posting more frequently in this space, including regular (daily?) commentaries on what we’re reading.  Right now, subscribers get an email every time I post, but I don’t want to fill up your Inbox, so tomorrow I’m going to be switching to a weekly newsletter that will contain links to the previous week’s posts, as well as some other original content from me not available anywhere else.

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