[Serious] Comfort in Faith at Death

[Rev. Rye]

I read this poem in high school, and I think it offers an interesting alternative to finding comfort in Heaven; instead of thinking of people just being buried and turned into worm chow, imagine using that as our opportunity to become a part of everything, of nature, of the ancestors who laid down their lives in the general area:





My great-uncle was buried in the same cemetery and even the same section as famed sportscaster Harry Caray. I didn’t know him very well, but maybe when he was buying that cemetery plot, he got a kick out of the possibility that his remains could be intermingling with those of Harry Caray. Or maybe that was just a coincidence, since Caray died about two or three years prior to him.

Of course, this doesn’t work for cremations, maybe it happens after you scatter them? At any rate, western man did not really do cremation in 1811.