It might be because my life’s ledge is growing closer that has led me to consider the topic of death and all of its implications these past several weeks.
There is no shortage of viewpoints on the subject, including Mark Twain’s handwritten observation from his deathbed: “The Impartial Friend: Death, the only immortal who treats us all alike, whose pity and whose peace and whose refuge are for all—the soiled and the pure, the rich and the poor, the loved and the unloved.”
Woody Allen has also weighed in on the topic countless times. My personal favorite is an overview: “Life is full of misery, loneliness, and suffering—and it’s all over much too soon.”
Like Allen, “I am not afraid of death. I just don’t want to be there when it happens.”
My questions about the end of life have little to do with the simple fact of the inevitable. I tend to focus, however frivolously, about what might await me when the lights finally go out. Laughter is, after all, the best medicine.
Strictly speaking, Jews don’t believe in an afterlife. We believe that heaven is on earth, and that our proper and good behavior is its own reward. If you treat your neighbor with kindness and respect, they will not have to respond in kind. Your act is reward enough. It offers an interesting perspective on the notion of altruism.
All of that doesn’t stop any of us from thinking about the afterlife and wondering aloud if there’s Chinese take-out and free parking. With trepidation, we ponder the possibilities.
As a friend once told me, if you ask two Jews about the afterlife, you’ll get three answers.
The absolute definition of death states that it is “the irreversible cessation of all vital functions especially as indicated by permanent stoppage of the heart, respiration, and brain activity.” At least that’s how most of us understand it. The Hindi, not so much. They go on: Those who worship Hinduism believe that death does not necessarily mean the end. They follow the idea of reincarnation which means that the soul is indestructible and repeatedly takes on a physical body until moksha—a term in Hinduism which refers to the various forms of liberation or release which occurs when the cycle of dying and rebirth ends.
Yada yada yada.
Let’s not forget that Hindis also believe that cows are sacred, which is why India’s rodeos are seriously awful. No steer roping, no bull riding, no steer wrestling. As sacred as they are, brahma cows, who weigh in the neighborhood of 1,500 pounds, are regularly milked for their production of ghee, a butter-like substance the French like to consume by the spoonful.
Hinduism embraces the notion of reincarnation—essentially another chance at life. Good intentions and actions lead to a good future while bad intentions and actions create the opposite outcome. This plays an important role in how one is reincarnated.
While there is no belief in heaven or hell in the Hindu faith, the promise of a dreary reincarnation keeps the Indian people well-behaved. There are also some rather draconian punishments for those who aren’t.
Without question, traditional Christianity focuses big time on the whole heaven/hell concept. The idea of good vs. evil is primarily the reward-punishment factor of a religion in which fear is a dominant force. In most cases, Christians are exhorted to follow the rules to gain access to heaven and escape the fires of hell.
Evangelicals go a tad further. They are taught that access to God can be bought with huge donations to the church, along with the promise of supporting Donald Trump in any of his endeavors.
The whole idea of accessing the stairway to heaven that Led Zeppelin waxed eloquent about (“If there’s a bustle in your hedgerow/Don’t be alarmed now/It’s just a spring clean for the May queen”) is either an earth-bound ambition or a simple act of extortion by none other than God himself.
Back in the good old days, Catholics used to have purgatory—a kind of waiting room. This was where the soul would be “in limbo” until that time when the dead’s relatives coughed up enough cash to release said soul and usher it into heaven. Or not.
Whoever thought of this kind of fund-raising was something of a genius. And it worked for centuries, until some kill-joy Pope came along and discontinued the practice. It might have been the same Pope who decided that mass would no longer be conducted in Latin; one didn’t have to eat fish on Fridays; and when St. Christopher had been demoted from patron saint of travel to garden gnome.
We clearly need better concepts of the afterlife than those based on the models of good/evil, cash/credit. While good should be rewarded, the evil in man’s soul needs a bit of a rewrite. Other than the most pious, a river of fire that is engulfing all of history’s sinners seems a bit far-fetched.
It seems to me that whatever activity one might be plying at the moment when one leaves the mortal coil, is the activity that one will spend eternity doing.
This idea should suffice to keep all of humanity engaged in only those activities that somehow meet the criteria of “good.” And since one will ever know when it’s time to give up the ghost, the highest standards of behavior must be maintained.
I hope I’m reading when I leave the mortal coil.
Or better yet, sleeping.
Photo illustration by Courtney A. Liska
Beef and Guinness Stew
A delicious stew for what we can hope will be the last days of winter.
2 Tbs. olive oil
2.5 lb. beef chuck
3/4 tsp. salt
Black pepper
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 onions, chopped
6 oz. bacon, diced
3 Tbs. plain flour
1 14.9oz can Guinness Beer
4 Tbs. tomato paste
3 cups chicken or beef stock
3 carrots, peeled and cut into 1/2″ thick pieces
2 large celery stalks, cut into 1″ pieces
2 bay leaves
3 sprigs thyme (or 1 tsp. dried thyme leaves)
Cut the beef into 2″ chunks. Pat dry and season with salt and pepper.
Heat oil in a heavy based pot over high heat. Add beef in batches and brown well all over. Remove onto plate. Repeat with remaining beef.
Remove pot from heat to cool slightly and lower heat to medium. If the pot is looking dry, add oil.
Return pot to heat, add garlic and onion. Cook for 3 minutes until softening, then add bacon.
Cook until bacon is browned then add flour. Stir flour into the mixture.
Add Guinness. Mix well, add remaining ingredients, and return beef into the pot (including any juices).
Add enough stock until the beef & veggies are almost fully covered.
Cover, bring to simmer then lower heat so it is bubbling gently. Cook for 2 hours—the beef should be pretty tender by now. Remove lid, then simmer for a further 30-45 minutes or until the beef falls apart at a touch and the sauce has reduced and thickened slightly.
Skim off fat on surface. Adjust salt and pepper to taste. Remove bay leaves and thyme.
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