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It is true that the sincerest phrase we can say about life is that death is the only certainty we have. However, this should not condition us to live like a candle waiting for the moment when its flame goes out. Death, instead of being a shadow that haunts us, can become a light that guides us to live each day fully. Among scholars of anthropology and religion, the hypothesis that has been proposed is that what many call the afterlife is simply the fruit of the painful human need to know that, in front of the unknown, there is something that will comfort and give us answers.
Within Christianity, at least in its official stance, it is taught that death is the passage to the true life, the eternal life, where the believer will live in the company of the creator. However, when someone close to us dies, the hope instilled by the Catholic Church seems to fade, even among the most fervent followers. This invites us to reflect on the true nature of faith and the fragility of our beliefs in times of pain. On the other hand, the most widespread belief in ancient Greek society was that when human beings died, their souls vanished like smoke or shadows and went to Hades. Homer offers an eschatological world that later influenced Virgil, as shown in The Aeneid (Book VI). There, he describes a dark place with nebulous landscapes and freezing temperatures, where souls─devoid of all physical consistency─are confined. When Ulysses goes down to Hades and meets Achilles, he forcefully responds to the bitter despair of the dead’s souls:
Do not console me for death, Ulysses. I would rather be on earth and serve a poor man, without much means of livelihood, than be the lord of all the consumed[1].
Before going deeper into the Afterlife, we must ask ourselves: What is death? We can quickly and categorically answer that it is the cessation of living or existing, but—as thinking beings—we tend to consider the question on a more transcendental level. Regardless of our religious or spiritual beliefs, human beings—as a species—seek to transcend. We yearn for people to talk about us, even as time passes. Names like Plato, Isabel I of Castile, Carlos Fuentes, Marx, and Arendt are examples of this transcendence. This mark we want to leave can be established in various subjects, like art, literature, architecture, or in our offspring. Historically, the urgency of marriage was based on the need to preserve the family name in an era of short life expectancy. However, in the 21st century, with millennials less concerned about sex,[2] this issue is changing, but we digress. Although the right to die is something we acquire at birth, this should not be a reason to simply survive until the moment of our death arrives. Similarly, living as if we will never die would not be appropriate either.
It’s great to make plans and project ourselves into a future where we achieve our goals, see the world, and achieve our dreams. But clinging to our projects with the belief that only with our own effort will we achieve them is arrogant. We should—I believe—make plans, but be aware that tomorrow, or even in a few hours, we could cease to exist. Death is something so sudden that it often comes at the least expected moments. We must learn to live with that fact as a tangible and close reality, even though it sometimes seems destined only for the elderly.
Returning to the point of Christians and their fading hope when someone close dies, we are afraid to talk about death. Christianity teaches that death is necessary to reach the encounter with the Father (God). The resurrection of Christ, a pillar of the Christian faith, is precisely the prelude to this belief: when one dies, one does not die completely, but rather the soul reaches heaven. However, at Christian funerals, we see people crying, not only because of the obvious loss of contact with the deceased but because it seems that when one dies, everything ends, even though their belief says otherwise. So, if when we die, we cease to exist and do not continue in some form of eternal existence, then we must live with the understanding that death─although always present─enlightens us to live each day as if it were the last, making the most of it.
On the contrary, if, like the Christians and ancient Greeks—among many others—one believes in an afterlife or in some form of continuity of life, the idea of transcendence can be an interesting compass, not only for living an earthly life but to achieve those desired goals that ensure a good and pleasant Eternal Life. I find a particular anecdote from Augustine of Hippo inspiring: he kept a human skull in front of his desk to constantly remind him that death would sooner or later overtake him. This reflection from the medieval thinker invites us to value every moment of life and to live with a purpose that transcends our finite existence.
[[1]] Homer, The Odyssey, Book XI.
[[2]] Scutti, S. (2016, August 3). Millennials have less sex than Gen Xers, why? CNN. Website: https://cnnespanol.cnn.com/2016/08/03/los-millennials-tienen-menos-sexo-que-la-generacion-x-por-que/
Miguel Ángel G. Calderón
Miguel Ángel G. Calderón is CEO of Filosofía en la Red. He holds a bachelor's degree in organizational psychology and is currently studying for a master's degree in philosophy and values. Previously, he also spent time studying religious sciences, law, and nursing.
