A grave moment

Under diverse circumstances, I have recently visited a cemetary for a decent amount of time. Forgive the pun in the title. I don't believe I have ever really been to a cemetary. I have been to Arlington in DC but only in passing.

I realize now how grave and reposed cemetaries appear to be even at night. It is certainly true that death is the great equalizer and that we all return to dust. Yet, we know that this is not the end. Though the idea of rest with God is sweet, it is not yet our place. We are very much alive. We are very much moving. Things of today and of eternity require our attention, in ways that they could not in death. Let these be for and of God. I see this contrast in the idea of being buried with Him in baptism. The world is no longer the same as when we die to it and it dies to us.

In some ways, the world is like a cemetary. We look around and see the walking dead. We see people who will not actively praise God. We see people whose throat is an open grave. We know of the putrifing flesh of men, that lies only six feet under, but we dare not speak it. We are superstitious not to disturb the dead. We may as, some look at it, be afraid of the dead in this world.

In some ways we must respect the world differently than a cemetary, if it be for God. It is life that determines what is sacred ground. Let us not dedicate to God and call anything sacred if it was found within a curse, like the grave. Let us rather dedicate to God what was found in His blessing, life itself. Let us rather bid dead people to rise. Let us proclaim truth in a place that is silent. Let us focus on the cross, not as a marker but as a living thing that Christ has placed to give us life. Let us dedicate to God, his life in us. Let us live for God for tomorrow we shall die.