Robert Fulghum, my favorite religious humanist, penned the title to end all titles with his All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. But it was one of his later tomes that most captured my attention.[1] Sitting in a chair beside his burial plot, Fulghum had himself photographed as he considered his final destiny. That picture hangs in his office as a visual reminder of his life’s end. Astride his interpretations of Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 (“there is a time to be born and a time to die”) are my comments reminding him of chapter three, verses nine through fifteen:
“. . . I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live. That every man may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all his toil—this is the gift of God. . . . And God will call the past into account.”
The humanist has here and now; the Christian has here, now, there, and then.
A few years ago my pastor asked me to participate in a dialogue teaching. One of the questions for me to ponder and then recount during instruction on a Sunday morning had to do with why my vocation was important. I declared my belief that the education of young people was imperative because of our impending death. I am compelled to read, study, think, write, and teach because my voice carries the voices of others to the next generation.
One of my favorite haunts in Grand Rapids, Michigan was recently closed. I used to wander through the basement of Kregel’s looking for a bibliophile’s book bargain. On one of my excursions, I remember distinctly stopping in my tracks, mid stack. I was jarred by the thought, “These are dead men’s books.”
I read dead men’s books. Every day I listen to the dead speak. I hear the words of Shakespeare and Poe. Auden and Milosz capture my attention. Stevenson and Shelley add their ideas. Moses and Luke give voice to history. Dead men’s words live today. As I think about how to live, I must first consider that I must die.
Indeed, I think about death quite often. In fact, I would encourage all of us to consider our earthly demise more than we do. And I would ask us to hang a metaphorical portrait of our gravesite on the walls of our mind. Ponder passages below that prompt us to not only to consider that what we do in this life counts for the next, but that our death ought to prompt our opportunities for living:
“Turn, O Lord, and deliver me; save me because of your unfailing love. No one remembers you when he is dead. Who praises you from the grave?” (Psalm 6:5)
“He cut short my days . . . so I said: ‘Do not take me away, O my God, in the midst of my days.’” (Psalm 102:23-24)
“Show me, O Lord, my life’s end and the number of my days; let me know how fleeting is my life. You have made my days a mere handbreadth; the span of my years is as nothing before you. Each man’s life is but a breath. Man is a mere phantom as he goes to and fro: He bustles about, but only in vain; he heaps up wealth, not knowing who will get it. But now, Lord, what do I look for? My hope is in you.” (Psalm 39:4-7)
“Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom . . . May the favor of the Lord our God rest upon us; establish the work of our hands for us—yes, establish the work of our hands.” (Psalm 90:12, 17)
“Better a live dog, than a dead lion.”[2] I remember when my nephew Ethan got in school trouble for quoting that as his favorite verse. But no other phrase from Scripture gives us better marching orders. Ecclesiastes 9:5 explains, “For the living know they will die, but the dead know nothing; they have no further reward, and even the memory of them is forgotten.” Ecclesiastes 9:10, often misinterpreted,[3] completes the thought: simply, while we live, we have opportunity—for here and now, there and then.
After playing Bruce Springsteen’s Glory Days[4] I would remind my students that serving God should begin when they are young as is taught by Ecclesiastes 11:7-12:1. Jacques Ellul well summarizes the truth:
Remember your Creator during your youth: when all possibilities lie open before you and you can offer all your strength intact for his service . . . to serve as the presence of God in the midst of the world and the creation. You must take sides earlier—when you can actually make choices, when you have many paths opening at your feet, before the weight of necessity overwhelms you.[5]
Upper elementary school parents should read Katherine Patterson’s Bridge to Terabithia to their children. Originally penned as a personal response to a young friend’s death, Paterson’s classic touches the cord of loss families feel at the graveside of a loved one. High school should prompt reading of Tolstoy’s The Death of Ivan Ilyitch where one discovers as he is dying that he never really lived. And as an adult As I Lay Dying penned by Richard John Neuhaus is an important rumination teaching us how to live: all the more poignant since his own death in January.
When discussing the end of days, how does God end His Book? By talking about how important are the words IN the book!
“These words are trustworthy and true;” “Blessed is the one who keeps the words of the prophecy of this book. You and your brothers the prophets, and with those who keep the words of this book;” “Do not seal up the words of the prophecy of this book, for the time is near;” “I warn everyone who hears the words of the prophecy of this book: if anyone adds to them, God will add to him the plagues described in this book, and if anyone takes away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God will take away his share in the tree of life and in the holy city, which are described in this book.”[6]
There are those who “testify” on behalf of The Book.[7] And as if we did not get the point, “The Alpha and Omega” is coming, the first and last letters of the alphabet, The One about whom The Book is written.[8]
I can hear the vocal complaint by any who read this essay, “What in the world has death got to do with reading?!” Perhaps the idea is best summarized by a movie of which I never tire, The Shawshank Redemption. The theme, the summary, the reason for reading, the reason for doing anything while we live, is uttered by Red (Morgan Freeman):
“Get busy livin’ or get busy dyin’.”
“Better a live dog, than a dead lion.” Robert Fulghum is right to consider his gravesite every day. Better yet, we should remember The One who knows our grave-day. Life is a gift from God. Enjoy it. Enjoy Him. Read a book.[9] Read The Book.[10]
Mark Eckel believes death is the greatest encouragement for learning which he engages as Professor of Old Testament at Crossroads Bible College.
[1] Robert Fulghum. 1995. From Beginning to End: The Rituals of Our Lives. (Villard): 27.
[2] Ecclesiastes 9:4. In the Middle East, dogs were considered filthy animals, rejected by humans. A lion, on the other hand, represented the pinnacle of accomplishment, royalty.
[3] Some mistakenly think that the verse gives us carte blanche (a blank check) with which to do anything we desire. Others contend this is a statement forwarding the “Protestant work ethic.” Still more think the statement mirrors a pessimistic sadness that there is nothing beyond this life. All miss the point.
[4] Springsteen reminded his listeners decades ago not to live in the past, to rest on one’s laurels, but to consider life’s brevity: “gone in the blink of a young girl’s eye, glory days . . . “
[5] Jacques Ellul. 1990. Reason for Being: A Meditation on Ecclesiastes. (Eerdmans): 282-83.
[6] Revelation 21:6, 7, 9, 18-19. In English we can see “words” and “book” are mentioned six and seven times respectively; a marker of their importance.
[7] Revelation 21:16, 20.
[8] Revelation 21:13.
[9] No money to travel? Go places in books! Want to know how others think? Pick up a book! Do you still ask ‘Why?!’ Pick up a book! Tired of TV? Pick up a book!
[10] There is much to be said about reading, consuming, and internalizing God’s Word. “Eating The Word” (Jeremiah 15:16 and Ezekiel 2:9-3:3) has been a mantra in my teaching since 1983. “Sweet words” is a concept repeated about Scripture consistently: Psalm 119:103 and Proverbs 24:13-14. Most recently Eugene Peterson reflected on the teaching in his Eat This Book: A Conversation in the Art of Spiritual Reading, (Eerdmans, 2006).