Living Like You Are Dying

My husband is building his coffin out of wood cut and sawn and shaped from our own trees. This project came about in consequence of one of those non-so-random encounters between “Biblical Studies” and what the rest of humanity calls “The Real World.” Let me step back into the story for a moment.

The book drawn from the Thanksgiving Psalms in the Dead Sea Scrolls is still an ongoing project. It has no publishing home yet which is probably a good thing because the title changes every week and I have only (this week!) discovered a shape and storyline for the book that finally feels right. But there is still the title to decide …

The current chapter under construction, “In the Bereavement of my Soul,” is also the title of a foray into co-writing a song for the Dead Sea Scrolls and worship conference at the end of October in Toronto. (And yes, a first draft of the song is written down and recorded but, thankfully, it is brother-in-law Brian singing it and not me!). The songs in the Dead Sea Scrolls are filled with near-death experiences and yet the songwriters lived with the hope of the “But You,” the belief in a redeeming and a re-creating God.

As you might expect, all of this singing and writing about bereavement and death makes for interesting over breakfast conversations with my husband, Greg, who really is a hands-in-the-soil and pick-up-a-hammer guy. He began musing about building a coffin for a family member who is dying far too young.

Nine years ago, together with his father and our son-in-law, Greg built a simple but beautiful pine coffin for burying our son. When it was time, he and other family members placed our son into the coffin and together they screwed down the lid. The process was painful but it was good and it helped us to grieve well and, since then, he has wanted to help others in the same way.

On Monday, Greg loaded up some wood and, when I asked him what it was for, he said it was for his own coffin. When he went to speak to his cousin, he wanted to be able to say “I am building a coffin for myself. Would you like me to build one for you, too?” Perhaps he knew, intuitively, that someone who is dying is more likely to be prepared to receive help from someone else who is “dying.” And I have been wondering whether it is the ones faced with death – whether in the biblical psalms or in the Dead Sea Scrolls or today – who really know about living. But then, we are all dying, aren't we?  My husband certainly understands this and lives out his life that way.

This morning, Greg was eyeing the empty place in front of the couch. Apparently, he has paid attention to my suggestion of putting a coffee table there and came up with a solution that seemed both practical and reasonable to him. Why not place his coffin there until it was needed (not for another fifty years, yet, we hope!) That way, it would not clutter up his workshop and a fine piece of workmanship would not have to be hidden away. I would have a fine place to spread out my books and work on my laptop. Or so he thought.

Please, would someone talk some sense into my man?

I think that it is time to start writing about birth again.