Memento Mori & Other True Things

By the sweat of your brow, you will have food to eat until you return to the ground from which you were made. For you were made from dust, and to dust you will return. -Genesis 3:19

Sunsets over cresting ocean waves. Herons, graceful and lithe, stepping gently over marsh reeds. The Big Dipper. A baby's laughter for the first time. A couple that's been together for over 60 years. Breakfast with friends at a local diner. Frank Sinatra crooning that he did it his way. Jesus promising us, "I have loved you even as the Father has loved me" and inviting us to "remain in His love" (John 15:9).

Truth is not merely the conveyence of facts or the opposite of lies. We know that certain things are true based on the emotions it sparks within us. We discover truth, and when we do, it resonates within us. I found this quote on a philosophy blog published in 2008, written by an anonymous user: "Facts are notes and lyrics on sheet music. Truth is what the singer gives to the listener when she’s brave enough to open up and sing from her heart."

Beautiful things are true, but not every true thing is beautiful.

There's a symbolic trope in art and literature called Memento Mori, Latin for "Remember that you will die."

What if the reason beautiful, true things mean so much to us is because, in the dark, recesses of our hearts, we know that this is one of the ultimate truths: We won't be here forever.

Death is inevitable, but I wouldn't call it beautiful. Still, it's the kind of truth that we feel in our bones down to the core of us. We covet good music, delicious food, and tender connections with other people because one day, we won't get to have those things anymore.

We come from dust, and to dust we'll return.

As the great theologian Nadia Bolz-Weber tells us, "If you are not in your grave you are one day closer to it."

This is true.

But you know what the other ultimate truth is?

Death is subservient to Jesus.

Even when I turn my face to the Lord God, seeking him by prayer and pleas for mercy with fasting and sackcloth and ashes (Daniel 9:3), Jesus is still standing over Death, clutching the keys to hell, proclaiming that even in Death (Rev.1:18), we still shall live. The ashes are a sign not of what we give up, but of what we gain by drawing closer to God. The ashes of Death remind us that we belong to God, and nothing can ever change that.

As we enter into this Lenten season, remember your mortality. But also remember the fragile beauty of what it means to be mortal. We were created in love, through love, to enjoy the true and beautiful things, all grace and fleeting joy. But though the wages of sin are death, the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord (Rom. 6:23).

Shooting stars. Ash-crosses painted on foreheads. The Eiffel Tower. Bath bombs that smell like tangerines and vanilla beans. The knowledge that we will die. The knowledge that Jesus helps teach us how to really live.

May we find the courage to face our limitations and the grace to begin again. May we seek truth in all its forms. May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all, now and forevermore (2 Cor. 13:14)