To: Carol who wrote (137 ) 11/16/1997 5:15:00 PM From: Harmattan Read Replies (2) | Respond to of 650
Carol, in principle I agree with your disagreement. But from a pragmatic standpoint death is a window which if one is able to pry it open would reveal the vista of life. I refer to all the types of deaths that can occur especially those preceding our Death. The Koran says, "Thou bringest forth the living from the dead, and Thou bringest forth the dead from the living." (Qur'an III 27) or a Tibetan precept, "Give up life if thou would'st live". or again, Shakespeare, "To sue to live, I find I seek to die, And, seeking death, find life. (Measure for Measure, III. i. 42) or in the sublime words of Angelus Silesius, "Even God must die, if He wishes to live for thee: How thinkest thou, without dying, to inherit His Life?" And Plato in Phaedo, 67 D in answer to just such a question said "True philosophers are always occupied in the practice of dying." And there are the numerous examples from the Bible to the same effect. Noteably, Romans VI 7 "He that is dead is freed from sin." One of the gentlest and most God intoxicated humans to ever walk this earth in addressing the Divine Mother about his own approaching illness said, "O Mother, what wilt Thou accomplish by killing one who is already dead?" (Hindu Saint--Sri Ramakrishna). Abd al-Qadir al-Jilani, the irreproachable Sufi saint wrote, " Die, then, to the creatures, by God's leave, and to your passions, by his command, and you will then be worthy to be the dwelling place of the knowledge of God. The sign of your death to the creatures is that you detach yourself from them and do not look for anything from them. The sign that you have died to your passions is that you no longer seek benefit fro yourself, or to ward off injury, and you are not concerned about yourself, for you have committed all things unto God. The sign that your will has been merged in the Divine Will is that you seek nothing of yourself or for yourself. Give yourself up into the hands of God, like the ball of the polo-player, who sends it to and fro with his mallet, or like the dead body in the hands of the one who washes it, or like the child in its mother's bosom." ghunk