Words of Comfort: the Apostle Paul

I recently re-discovered these words from St. Paul the Apostle (circa 5 - circa 65 AD/CE), in his letter to the church in Corinth (located in modern-day Greece), written sometime around 55 AD/CE.  The passage is from 2nd Corinthians, chapter 5, verses 1 through 10. It is taken from the New Living Translation of the Holy Bible.  I have found that the Apostle Paul has the rare gift of getting us to look beyond our present difficult circumstances and have us take the longer view:

"For we know that when this earthly tent we live in is taken down (that is, when we die and leave this earthly body), we will have a house in heaven, an eternal body made for us by God himself and not by human hands. ² We grow weary in our present bodies, and we long to put on our heavenly bodies like new clothing. ³ For we will put on heavenly bodies; we will not be spirits without bodies.^{[a] 4} While we live in these earthly bodies, we groan and sigh, but it’s not that we want to die and get rid of these bodies that clothe us. Rather, we want to put on our new bodies so that these dying bodies will be swallowed up by life. ⁵ God himself has prepared us for this, and as a guarantee he has given us his Holy Spirit.

⁶ So we are always confident, even though we know that as long as we live in these bodies we are not at home with the Lord. ⁷ For we live by believing and not by seeing. ⁸ Yes, we are fully confident, and we would rather be away from these earthly bodies, for then we will be at home with the Lord. ⁹ So whether we are here in this body or away from this body, our goal is to please him. ¹⁰ For we must all stand before Christ to be judged. We will each receive whatever we deserve for the good or evil we have done in this earthly body."

What Pigs, Organ Transplants, and the Stars Can Teach Us About Life and Death

Over at CNN.com, Katie Hunt has an article: "Research in pigs shakes up what we know about dying".  To summarize, scientists have discovered that cellular functions and blood circulation in pigs can be restored even an hour after their deaths.  This could have major implications for humans, especially when it comes to being able to increase the number of available donor organs for those who need them.

Speaking of organ transplants, this reminds me of a story I heard back in the news in the 1990s, when an older woman by the name of Claire Sylvia, who was seriously ill, received a heart transplant from a young man, Timothy Lamirande, who was killed in a motorcycle accident.  Soon after the transplant, she developed a serious craving for McDonald's Chicken McNuggets.  Unbeknownst to her at the time, Chicken McNuggets were one of the favorite foods of her donor, Tim.  This phenomenon has been reported in multiple publications, including Dr. Thomas Verny in Psychology Today, Lorianna De Giorgio in The Toronto Star, and Marcus Lowth at Listverse.com.  Of course, the vast majority of organ donor recipients report no changes in their personalities, or preferences, but there seem to be enough cases that this could warrant further investigation.

Between these stories about restoring bodily functions in pigs and organ transplants, I've beginning to realize that the line between "life" and "death" might not be as definitive and crystal-clear as we tend to think.  And when I think about it, I have to ask: what is life and what is death, really?  Or are we all just on some sort of continuum where it all just kind of blends and blurs together?  It reminds me of the saying that "We're all made of star stuff" -- the components and elements that make up the stars in the universe make up our own bodies as well, including carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen, phosphorus, and sulfur.  

And on a related note, I'm reminded of theologian Philip Yancey, who once wrote that we humans are so limited in our understanding of our world and our universe, and he used this analogy of a supernova in his book "Disappointment with God" to show how a Supreme Creator being could be so much bigger than we realize:

"Now we understand time as relative, not as absolute. Perception of time, we are told, depends on the relative position of the observer. Take a recent example: on the night of February 23, 1987, an astronomer in Chile observed with his naked eye the explosion of a distant supernova, a blast so powerful that it released as much energy in one second as our sun will release in ten billion years. But did that event truly occur on February 23, 1987? Only from the perspective of our planet. Actually, the supernova exploded 170,000 years prior to our 1987, but the light generated by that faraway event, traveling almost 6 trillion miles a year, took 170,000 years to reach our galaxy.

And here is where the higher view of eternity defies our normal understanding of time. Imagine, if you will, a very large Being, larger than the entire universe—so large that the Being exists simultaneously on earth and in the space occupied by Supernova 1987A. [This being could observe] both past (from earth, he saw the supernova explosion of 170,000 years before), present (the events of 1987 on earth), and future (what was happening on Supernova 1987A “now" that earthlings will not learn about for 170,000 years) simultaneously.

Such a Being, big as the universe, could, from some lookout post, see what is happening anywhere in the universe at any given time."

I realize that this post almost reads more like a "random stream of consciousness", but it makes me realize how much more there is to life and death than we realize -- it's all very mysterious and very fascinating at the same time, even if I'm still struggling to find the answers.  May you, dear reader, find comfort and reassurance, as you too continue to search for answers.

Words of Comfort: Paramahansa Yogananda

Paramahansa Yogananda (1893-1952) was an Indian Hindu monk, yogi, and guru.  He immigrated to the United States in 1920.  He is widely credited with increasing  the popularity of the yoga and meditation movements here in the U.S.  Yogananda combined many aspects of Western and Eastern belief into his theology; his Hindu background also incorporated much thought and discussion about Jesus and Christianity.  Yogananda also spent a fair amount in his speeches talking about death and dying.

Some of the most reassuring words I came across after the death of my mother came from a Yogananda article over at the Yogoda Satsanga Society of India website: "Life After Death: What Happens After Death".  The whole article is worth reading in its entirety, but here are a few excerpts that provided me with some solace during those really difficult days of grieving:

"Every one of us is going to die someday, so there is no use in being afraid of death. You don’t feel miserable at the prospect of losing consciousness of your body in sleep; you accept sleep as a state of freedom to look forward to. So is death; it is a state of rest, a pension from this life. There is nothing to fear. When death comes, laugh at it. Death is only an experience through which you are meant to learn a great lesson: you cannot die.

....

The body is only a garment. How many times you have changed your clothing in this life, yet because of this you would not say that you have changed. Similarly, when you give up this bodily dress at death you do not change. You are just the same, an immortal soul, a child of God.

....

Death is not the end: it is temporary emancipation, given to you when karma, the law of justice, determines that your present body and environment have served their purpose, or when you are too weary or exhausted by suffering to bear the burden of physical existence any longer. To those who are suffering, death is resurrection from the painful tortures of flesh into awakened peace and calmness. To the elderly, it is a pension earned by years of struggling through life. For all, it is a welcome rest."