L’chaim: Viewing Life through the Lens of Death (Yizkor Service 5774)

Whether we keep an old-fashioned written calendar, or an electronic one, most of us lead very busy lives.  When someone wants to meet with us, we look at our calendars and see when we might have some time.  My calendar goes through 2016; I should live so long.  Gary and I really need to have some people come for a long overdue dinner, and looking at the calendar, it may be 2014 before we have a weekend night to do it, and then it will be dependent on the schedules of the other people.  My counseling schedule is so booked that there are times people wait weeks to see me.  That is life in the 21st century.

We are very busy people, leading extremely busy lives.  And all of the technology that was supposed to save us time has actually added hours to our day.  I will have 700 or 800 emails to answer when I go back to my computer, on Tuesday.  Every text, every call, every show DVR’ed, every catalogue, every book waiting to be read, every new recipe, every photo we want to save, or print, or put in an album, and every person who wants to catch up on Facebook, takes time.  For so many of us, life is about fitting 30 hours into a 24 hour day, often sacrificing sleep, or self, as we tick things off our to-do list. We live as if we are in control of our time, our calendar, and our schedules.

And then… someone close to us dies.  And life as we know it stops.  Life becomes all about making time for something far more important than what we thought was important yesterday.   The rainy day money needs to be spent to travel to a funeral, or pay for one.   All the “stuff” of life gets put on hold, because something more important, death, has taken top priority.

There is never a good time to die — for the person who is dying, and for all of the people who will be the mourners.   Yet, even the toughest boss has to let you off to go to a loved one’s funeral.  I will often joke with members who are ill and complaining to me that they have had enough of the pain and sickness that I don’t have time for a funeral that day, so they best keep on living. And many have done just that.  But, the reality of life is that there is always time for a funeral.  We are forced to make time for death.

On Thursday, I overheard a conversation in which a woman who just lost her brother said, “It was expected, but it wasn’t expected.  We really thought we had more time.”  Somehow, whenever death comes, it always takes us by surprise and we are never ready.  Death trumps yesterday’s plans, and tomorrow’s.  In Yiddish we say, Mensch tracht un Gott lacht – Man plans and God laughs, because we think we have so much more control of life and time than we do.

So, imagine for a moment that you lived your life as if you would die tomorrow. Imagine that you lived your life always conscious of how precious every moment is with your loved ones and friends, taking and making time for the truly important things, not the ones you so often waste your time doing each day, week, month, or year.

Last Shabbat, a loving mother thanked her son for teaching her to stop folding the laundry or checking email when he was speaking to her.   She thanked him for reminding her to stop everything to listen and look him in the eye when he was talking to her.  When was the last time you focused on something so intently that you shut out everything else and refused to be interrupted or distracted? Imagine how your life would be different if you lived life through the lens of death.

When you are angry with someone, or have stopped talking to a family member or a friend, imagine what you would feel if for some reason that person would die tomorrow.  Would you have regrets?  Would you stop everything and rush to their funeral?  If so, then repair the breach while there is still time. If not, then move on from feeling guilty about a relationship that has already died, as tragic and sad as that might be.  Make up or move on.

Imagine you don’t have tomorrow to say you are sorry or to keep that promise.  Imagine that all you have is today – today’s words, today’s hug, today’s time to give and share.  If there were no tomorrows, would you leave this service with regret for how you are dividing up your day and night?  Are the people or things most important to you receiving your quality time?  Are you respecting the time of others?  Before the sun sets, what changes will you pledge to make to those who are still alive?  And what regrets can you leave behind in your relationship with those who have already died?  Can you finally let your loved one rest in peace, and give yourself permission to live and love? Can you let all the guilt go. And remember, everyone grieves differently, and there is no rushing grief.  Make time to grieve and give yourself time to work through all of your emotions. Stop rushing to be “over it.”

In his sequel to his book Jacob the Baker called Jacob’s Journey, Noah ben Shea tells the following story about his very wise protagonist Jacob:

A man running [to his own rush] attached himself to Jacob as he was returning through the fields to Joseph’s home.

“Jacob,” said the man, motioning to the world around him, “I have made it my life’s work to save the trees and the rivers. Is this enough?”

“Save the moments also,” said Jacob.

“Will that make my work more important?” asked the man.

“It will make your life more,” said Jacob.  “If we do not find our moments, we lose our way.”

“Yes, but what about the tragedy in nature?” said the man, his manner intensifying. “What else should I be doing?”

“Often in life,” said Jacob, “the solution to our problems comes not so much from what we start doing but from what we stop doing.” (p.100)

We live in a world where so many of us don’t know how to stop, or are afraid to stop.  Death stops everything in its tracks.  Death is the only thing left in life that demands that we stop everything we are doing.  Death is something that is guaranteed to remind us how very precious life is.  I know some of you hate this topic of death and avoid talking about it.  But, I really believe that we need to live our lives in the face of death.  We need to remember that we live on God’s time, which has the potential to be filled with moments of opportunity and possibility, rather than just work, or school, or sports, or a social calendar that places demands and stress on us that may or may not be good for our physical, psychological, emotional, or spiritual well-being.

And each day, the choices we make, the ones in our control, and even those out of our control, are crafting our eulogy.  That long overdue apology, that hand-written thank you note, that thoughtful card, that “I’m sorry,” that peach cobbler made with love for a friend, will be remembered so much longer than your last email, memo, business trip, vacation, or project.  In God’s world, kindness, tzedakah, generosity, giving, sharing, and going out of your way, is what will be remembered when you die.

I am in the death business.  I have written more eulogies and heard more eulogies than I can count.  I read the obituaries in the Post every single day.   And the most wonderful people are those whose lives are remembered because of who they were and how they lived. Their eulogies don’t read like an impressive professional resume.  No one really cares where you went to college when you die, or how much money you have in the bank at the time of your funeral.  What is remembered is how you used your education for the betterment of others and our world, and how generously you gave from whatever you earned to build, sustain, and repair the world you were blessed to live in.   Real living is giving.   Learn that lesson now, while there is still time.  No one visits the miser’s grave and few cry at the eulogy of the selfish or self-absorbed.  Living life through the lens of your death and eulogy will empower you to live a life worthy of blessing and remembrance.

How will you be described on your tombstone?  As Virginians, we often quote Thomas Jefferson’s choice of how he wanted to be remembered.  Before his death, Thomas Jefferson left explicit instructions regarding the monument to be erected over his grave.  [In this document (undated),] Jefferson supplied a sketch of the shape of the marker, and the epitaph with which he wanted it to be inscribed: “…on the faces of the Obelisk the following inscription, & not a word more:

Here was buried
Thomas Jefferson
Author of the Declaration of American Independence
of the Statute of Virginia for religious freedom
Father of the University of Virginia

“because by these,” he explained, “as testimonials that I have lived, I wish most to be remembered.”    (as quoted on the Monticello website, Jefferson Gravestone)

The man was the third President of the United States and did not choose to be remembered for that.  Amazing.

How do you want to be remembered?  What are you doing today to make that so?  What will you change in the New Year, so that your life will represent the person you want to be remembered when you die?

As I enter my fourth decade as a death educator, I want people to plan for their deaths and take time to leave instructions for their loved ones when they die.  I believe it is irresponsible not to do so.  Our most attended adult education program this past year was my two part series Planning Your Funeral (or Someone Else’s).  Think about the gift to the mourner of having everything planned and arranged, having your wishes known.   If we love our family, we don’t add to the burdens of their loss by leaving them to buy real estate and to make painful choices in the hour of their grief.

As we stand on the precipice of a new year, we owe it to ourselves to take stock in who we are, how we live and love, and the legacy of values and actions that we will leave when we depart this earth.   We are mortal.  We don’t know “who shall live and who shall die,” but we do know that some of us will live to see next year, and some of us will not.   No one is immortal. And trust me, you will not be sent a letter or email with your date of death.

So, the best we can do is live our lives, today and every day, through the lens of death.  We can make the time, and take the time, to be there for the people we care about, those who would be by our side if something happened to us, and those for whom we would drop everything if they were in need.   We can make the time to re-envision our life and our choices, and reassess how we will respond to life when the choice is out of our hands. For situations and circumstances may be beyond our control, but we are always in control of our response to them.

L’chaim is about life and living in the face of an unknown future, no matter what may appear on our calendars.   May we live our lives from this Yom Kippur to the next ever mindful that how we live and love, how we use our time, our talent, and our resources will forever determine how we will be remembered.

As we enter Yizkor, paying honor to those we have loved and lost, I pray that we use this sacred moment to reflect on lives well-lived and legacies long remembered with love. I pray that we use this Yom Kippur moment to commit ourselves to a life worthy of blessing, a life worthy of being remembered when our time comes to die.