My Grandmother lay in that open casket like someone sleeping. She was peaceful, serene, even beautiful. It was picturesque, and I had my iPhone out to snap a few photos. But I could not bring myself to step within a few feet of her, even if it’d get me a better photo composition, because I knew the awful truth. What I saw before me wasn’t slumber—it was death. And it repelled me.

Grandma Ruth’s funeral was difficult for all the typical reasons, but also because it reminded me of a truth I’d pondered several times before: death is repulsive. While there are exceptions to this rule (like medical examiners, who’ve become desensitized to it because of their work, or certain weirdos who take perverse pleasure in it), most human beings find death to be a revulsion. It is a great mystery, a tragic loss, an unwanted end. It frightens us. We don’t usually like talking about it because it forces us to grapple with our own mortality. That’s why there are about as many euphemisms for death as there are for sex (which, ironically, involves the creation of life): “the big sleep,” “passed away,” and “bit the dust,” to name a few. We don’t even like to utter the word oftentimes.

Personally, as a Christian, I believe this revulsion is because deep down in every human’s heart, they know death is an intruder. Despite the fact that it appears to be a part of the natural world (or the “circle of life,” as a popular song once said), it was never meant to be part of God’s design. In the Garden of Eden, there was no death. Does that mean Adam and Eve were immortal? The answer to that is beyond my paygrade. Regardless, God warned them that if they ate from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, they would die (Genesis 2:17). I take this to mean there was no death (or at least death as we know it) before then. It was when Adam and Eve succumbed to the wiles of the Serpent in Genesis 3 that death became part of the natural order. It was a corruption of what God created as good.

So, though many human beings deny this, deep down they know it to be true. They can dress it up or joke about it, even say death can be dignified, it doesn’t change the fact that it is unnatural. Perhaps part of why death is feared is because it is an irrefutable sign of God’s existence.

I think this is why, to put it in a storytelling perspective, why many comic book readers both love and hate resurrection stories in the funny books. On one hand, there’s the thrill of seeing a beloved character return (i.e. Superman in the famous ‘90s storyline) because it shows someone defeating death (which is itself an echo of Christian theology [Revelation 1:18]), but on the other, it cheapens death. What’s the point of killing a character if they’ll just be brought back later? It kills (no pun intended) the suspense, and makes their sacrifice hallow. The joke used to be that nobody stays dead in comics except Uncle Ben, Bucky, and Jason Todd. Now only the first third of that statement applies.

Regardless, this, too, is a reflection of this idea: we want there to be meaning in death. It is an inescapable intruder, so we try to find purpose in it, even if that purpose is only to celebrate the life of the deceased or glory in their passing (I’m looking at you, Fidel Castro). That’s one reason why we have funerals: they’re occasions for us to come to grips with how we think and feel about death.

These are but a few of my thoughts. Whole books have been written on the subject. I’m an amateur philosopher at best, so I won’t pretend to have it all figured out. Indeed, I’m still trying to figure out myself. Death is a subject too large for a little blog entry here. However, I do hope I’ve inspired you to think more deeply about the subject, whether it relates to your life or your writing.

What are your thoughts on death? It is repulsive to you? Why do you people are afraid of it?