Where is thy sting?

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April 4th is the Chinese festival of Ching Ming and it is also the Feast of Easter. Ching Ming is known as the grave-sweeping day, for on that day the Chinese honour their dead ancestors by cleaning their graves. Ching Ming means ‘clean and bright’. Easter is when the Christians commemorate the death of Jesus Christ and celebrate his subsequent resurrection.

Interestingly they both fall on the fourth day of April, a double 4. In Chinese Hokkien parlance, 4 is the homonym for the word ‘death’. So, it is double death. Benjamin Franklin said to have said, “there are only two things certain in life: death and taxes”. April is also the time when we have to submit our income tax returns. So, it is obvious that my musing for this week can only be about one thing, the thing that we all loath to mention – death.

Why write about such a depressing topic? You might ask. As a weekly columnist, I have to search for a topic every week. Well, I cannot ignore the confluence of signs on April 4th: the Ching Ming festival; the celebration of Easter; the tax returns deadline; the double 4 (the double death). On top of that this morning, I received the news of the passing of a friend whose family hailed from the same small town as me.

So, I am going to look at the Grim Reaper in the eyes and say “OK, I accept the words of Mehmed Selimovic.” Mehmed Selimovic (1910 – 1982) was a Yugoslav writer, whose novel ‘Death and the Dervish’ is one of the most important literary works in post-Second World War Yugoslavia. In the book he wrote, “Death is a certainty, an inevitable realisation, the only thing that we know will befall us. There are no exceptions, no surprises: all paths lead to it. . . But if it is a certainty, then why are we surprised when it comes?”

Yes, it is an uncomfortable fact that from the very day we were born the sand of time has already begun to run on us, bringing us closer to that inevitable end. For now, I must admit that most, if not all of us, are uncomfortable about, or indeed, afraid of death. Why so? That was the question I put to my friends as we mulled over cups of coffee in our favourite coffee shop.

“I think we fear death because of our fear of the unknown. It is our fear of loss, the loss of everything and everyone we are familiar with. Death is like a leap into the dark,” offered Zee.

“I believe it has something to do with our ego. A person cannot accept the idea that there can be a time when he no longer exists. After all, throughout his life, he regards himself as the centre of the universe. The very thought of non-existence scares the wits out of him,” put in Lee, ever the psychologist.

“That’s why we need religions. So instead of a leap in the dark, it is a leap of faith. It is our faith in our religion that enables us to handle this fear of death,” said James.

Indeed dear James, I do believe all religious teachings do explicitly deal with this very human fear. I know Christianity does, as exemplified by St. Paul’s message in 1 Corinthians 15:55 which he prefaced with the defiant words, “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” Recently, I read a book that offered me much comfort. There, the author contends that there is nothing to fear about death. The thrust of his argument was that there are only three possible schools of belief in this world. First, there is the belief in life after death. This, of course, is the foundation of all the major religions. Second, there is a belief in reincarnation, as espoused by such faith as Buddhism. Finally, there is pure materialism where man is regarded as just physical matter that will cease to exist upon his death, period. All three cases can offer us the courage to accept our eventual fate with equanimity.

Perhaps we are focusing too much on the end. That is what makes us feel that this topic is depressing. We should pay heed to the now, meaning, life. It is customary to engrave the year of birth and the year of death on a tombstone. Usually, it is entered as such, ‘John Smith (1930 – 2020)’. That little dash between the two figures represents our life. The certainty of our birth and the inevitability of our death is a given fact, and the length of the ‘dash’ is to a great extent beyond our control. It has already been written. However, we do have the means to influence the quality of the dash. I believe that this quality is not determined by the number of worldly materials we can heap and horde for ourselves. It is more than that, it goes beyond the tangible, the physical well-being to spiritual and psychological well-being. For this, we are guided by the teaching of religions and that of humanistic philosophy.

Religious beliefs can be divided into two schools. One teaches that there is eternal life after this short stint. The other holds that this life is but just one turn of the many turns of the wheel and that every turn will bring one closer to the ultimate goal of Nirvana, that ideal state of freedom from suffering. In both cases, life is just a trial and death is the portal to the next stage.

Whether we are to be deemed deserving of a blissful eternal afterlife or the next level of the ascending wheel depends on how we live our present life. For this, we are guided by our Holy Books. Though there are thousands of verses and millions of words written in all the religious books, I believe the essence of all teachings can be summed up as ‘Love thy God (by whatever name you want to call Him) and love thy neighbours.’

These two prongs cannot be severed from one another. In other words, if one were to purport to love one’s God and at the same time hurt one’s neighbours then I believe one has breached the central tenet of all religions. Our love for our fellow travellers in this journey of life is a manifestation of our love for God.

Let me end with this reported dialogue between Brazilian theologist Leonardo Boff and the Dalai Lama. Boff asked: “Your holiness, what is the best religion?” Surprisingly, instead of propagating his creed Dalai Lama answered: “The best religion is the one that gets you closest to God. It is the one that makes you a better person.”

Boff asked: “What is it that makes me better?” Dalai Lama responded: “Whatever makes you more compassionate, more sensible, more detached, more loving, more humanitarian, more responsible, more ethical. The religion that will do that for you is the best religion.”

So, if this is all it takes to get our heavenly passport stamped is be a better person, then we can all echo St. Paul’s words: “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?”