All such thoughts are but reflections of the worshipping
of death as savior, and as giver of release.
Embodiment of fear, the host of sin, god of the guilty,
and the lord of all illusions and deceptions, does the
thought of death seem mighty. For it seems to hold all
living things within its withered hand; all hopes and
wishes in its blighting grasp; all goals perceived but
in its sightless eyes. The frail, the helpless and the
sick bow down before its image, thinking it alone is
real, inevitable, worthy of their trust. For it alone
will surely come.
All things but death are seen to be unsure, too quickly
lost however hard to gain, uncertain in their outcome,
apt to fail the hopes they once engendered, and to leave
the taste of dust and ashes in their wake, in place
of aspirations and of dreams. But death is counted on,
for it will come with certain footsteps when the time
has come for its arrival. It will never fail to take
all life as hostage to itself.
Would you bow down to idols such as this?
is the strength and might of God Himself perceived within
an idol made of dust. Here is the opposite of God proclaimed
as lord of all creation, stronger than God's Will for
life, the endlessness of love, and Heaven's perfect,
changeless constancy. Here is the Will of Father and
of Son defeated finally, and laid to rest beneath the
headstone death has placed upon the body of the holy
Son of God.
Unholy in defeat, he has become what death would have
him be. His epitaph, which death itself has written,
gives no name to him, for he has passed to dust. It
says but this:
lies a witness God is dead."
this it writes again and still again, while all the
while its worshippers agree, and kneeling down with
foreheads to the ground, they whisper fearfully that
it (death) is so.
It is impossible to worship death in any form (sadness,
fear, anxiety, doubt, anger, faithlessness, lack of
trust, concern for bodies, etc.) and still select a
few you would not cherish, and would yet avoid, while
still believing in the rest.