Death Is Not a Tragedy, It Is an Unfortunate Circumstance

By Rev. LTC Peter E. Bauer

         On this Second Sunday of Advent, I was out taking a walk at Fort McPherson. As I made my way past Hedekin Field, there he was, a dead squirrel laying out in the middle of the road. I couldn’t pass him by. I walked up to him as he lay there on the pavement. He had survived the fall and early winter well. He was fat and furry and now here he was dead with blood on his head and abdomen. Already, his front feet had curled up stiff. I thought he must have been hit either by a driver going too fast or one was too inattentive. I picked him up by the tail and took him to the side of the road down the embankment where I gave him a proper burial. 

         Previously, I had been in conversation with a fellow Army officer. The topic came up regarding the deaths of civilians during an operational mission, particularly when the civilian deaths occur after the civilians in question have attacked military forces. I mentioned that death is a tragedy. The officer replied, “You can’t say death is a tragedy, especially in public, but you say death is an unfortunate circumstance.” 

          I didn’t take offense at the officer’s remark. I can appreciate that for those who have  experienced combat and have seen and experienced death at close range that it can be described as "an unfortunate circumstance." One could present a good theological argument either way regarding this supposition.

          Pauline theology, for example, argues “death, where is thy sting?" (Romans 8), and yet other theological tradition argues that death is a part of our life experience and we just have to get used to it. Consider the liturgy we say at Ash Wednesday, “From dust you were born and to dust you shall return.”

          We are in the season of Advent, this strange time when the earth is starting to shed its leaves, leaving the trees bare, and where the mercury plummets and the reality of cold weather returns. At the same time, we celebrate with gaiety the birth of Jesus in a stable, a birth that we probably can pinpoint happening more during the months of late spring or summer, rather than in December. We are celebrating the birth of a Savior, a Messiah who will go on to die on a cross, to face a criminal’s death at the hands of the imperialistic first century Roman Empire.

           So if Advent is about preparing for the birth of Jesus and for the coming of the Kingdom of God into our lives, what does the birth of Jesus have to say about our experience of death? Was Peggy Lee right? Is that all there is?

 

            What got my attention about my friend’s comment is that his observation is correct: if you have been subjected to a lot of trauma in your life, combat or otherwise, it becomes all too easy to say that death is just an unfortunate circumstance. Death becomes more than just a companion, it’s the guy or gal who is around the corner that you know sooner or later will catch up with you. Therefore, fatalism becomes your gospel. As Jim Morrison of the Doors said, "No one gets out of here alive."

              The Gospel declares, however, that with the birth of Jesus all of creation, you and I and everything that exists, was transformed. God’s Kairos, God’s new time penetrated our lives and the universe,and made it new and whole. Right now, many people are finding it challenging to experience this transformation through God’s Kairos. A lot of us are consumed with worry and anxiety regarding the war that appears to be continuing without end, continuing economic and employment problems and the fall out that this is generating for families and communities. We helplessly see the killings of people abroad and the killings of our own service members right here at home. We desperately need Good News, we need the “balm of Gilead,” we need the experience again of Emmanuel, of "God with us" in all times and in all circumstances.

                Our faith speaks of a God who is with us in all times and places, in our life and in our death and in our life beyond death. God’s Emmanuel and shalom promises to guide and empower us every step of the way through out all of life. How might God’s Kairos, how might Jesus’ birth really transform you and I this Advent and Christmas?

                 Transformation means that you and I have to be open and receptive to the surprises that God can bring to us. As I returned from my walk back to my apartment, I saw another squirrel, this time alive, scurrying fast across the street with a big nut in its mouth, obviously delighted in the feast that was to be had.  When I see the squirrels scurrying across the road and up the trees, I experience hope and pleasure. For I am reminded that despite my worries and anxiety that there is joy, there is spontaneity, there is life and it is abundant.

                  May this Advent and Christmas be such a time for you and your family and for our world, we pray in Jesus’ Name.

                                                                             Amen