The people that walked in darkness …
Throughout the Old and New Testaments this reference appears in various ways. To me, it implies that all of mankind toils through a lifetime of fear, tragedy, pain, and travail. We all come to the same end: this shell we inhabit stops functioning.
I don’t pretend to understand the vastness and the enormous mysteries of the universe, but after nearly seventy-eight years in my own shell I’ve come to my own understanding of a few things. I’m not saying I am right about any of this. It’s just what I’ve gleaned by observing life around me and events in the lives of those I love.
Whatever your belief system, I think it’s generally accepted that something momentous in the history of mankind occurred those generations ago in the part of the world we know as the Levant. A personage walked the earth for a time, touched the lives of those he came in contact with, made some of them better people. He died. In some way he was reborn and this belief caught fire, and one of the world’s great – albeit flawed, as it seems they all are – religions was born and flourishes still today, many hundreds of years later.
It seems to me the Creator of the universe gave a great gift to Its creation. The gift of hope. The belief that there is more than just this “little life, rounded with a sleep.” Perhaps we are not a shell that empties itself of life when it stops working. Perhaps we are spiritual beings, inhabiting a human body for a while to learn – and hopefully, to love. And after our body dies – as it must ─ we continue to something wonderful beyond our ability to imagine.
And knowing that would indeed be a cause for celebration.