Memento Mori and the Art of Quoting Chris Rock

There's a lot of talk, these days, about living as though you're on the verge of death. People like to sing about, write about and even post inspirational pictures in the internet encouraging this one idea.

I've had little choice but to ponder the sentiment over the past few months because I hear that Kris Allen song at work a lot and one of my friends showed me this quote:

“You know, some people say life is short and that you could get hit by a bus at any moment and that you have to live each day like it's your last. Bull[stuffing]. Life is long. You're probably not gonna get hit by a bus. And you're gonna have to live with the choices you make for the next fifty years.”
-Chris Rock

A deep thinker...

These contrasting ideas brought me to a sort of mental crossroads. I believe in living life without many of the worries and fears we tend to put upon ourselves. I believe in having grand adventures. There is a definite frailty to our lives. We are not on this side of eternity forever; and for some, this side of eternity is as good as things will ever get.

However, I sometimes also believe in being a grown-up and doing smart, responsible things that will pay off later in the game.

Some of you might have heard of a certain radio preacher named Harold Camping.

Remember this guy?

Now, here's a real-life story about people living as though they weren't going to be around the next day:

In the months leading up to Mr. Camping's predicted Judgement Day, many of his followers sold everything they owned to fund billboards, bus posters and even international campaigns warning the world of the coming end.  A group of 10,000 Vietnamese believers gathered, despite resistance from their government, to worship while Jesus came to rescue them from persecution. Seventy of them were killed for it.

On May 22nd, when Jesus had yet to do any appearing, some financial institutions released articles detailing how to start over from scratch. One article recommended that followers lie about why they quit their last job.

So, let me get this straight....

Here's the thing: Whenever I think of what I would do if I was dying, I realise how stupidly irresponsible I would suddenly become. I'd quit my job, give away everything I own, cancel my college plans and make a wonderful mess of my remaining days. I also think relationship dynamics would change. People would talk to me, think of me and treat me differently because of the suddenly thin thread connecting me to their world. I would be in a totally different situation, where a totally different set of decisions would become prudent. 

I COULD quit my job, because I'd be losing a lot of living expenses - namely, all of them.

I COULD forget about college, because letters after my name would be a means to a ministry job I'd never have.

I COULD have long conversations with everyone because they'd have the time and desire for them - I'd very quickly become a very different sort of priority.

I live in a world where, though I may very well die tomorrow, I have to act as though I won't. I have to behave as though my decisions will have consequences that I (and others) will have to deal with later. I cannot expect people to listen as though my words and thoughts will soon be lost to the grave. 

To be honest, I think this sort of fatalism encourages selfishness. If I were dying, I fear my life would suddenly become very much about me.

Then again...

There is a beauty in recognising the temporal nature of life in your daily actions. There is a certain grace to how your priorities shift - how people become more important and possessions lose their weight. I like how memento mori causes people to act with a fearlessness and boldness that's otherwise rare in our society.

So, which is it? Is "live like you're dying" silly or beautiful?

I think there's another option. 

If we want to make the most of this life - to be more bold with our love, to learn more and teach more, to see the undying value in things without price tags, to put people above possessions, to mold our relationships into the sort of bonds folks write stories about - I think we should change the sentiment. 

 If we are going to be fatalistic at all, we should live as though everyone else is dying.

If other people were dying, I'd listen - really listen - to what they had to say; and when I spoke, I'd choose my words with care and share only the best of what I had to say. I'd be more loving and forgiving of their shortcomings and more meek about mine. I'd tell people what they meant to me. If everyone else was that much closer to eternity than I, I would walk with humility, very nearly ashamed of my undeserved privilege of life. There would be no pride in me because I'd know that everyone else's time was more valuable than mine. I'd do everything I could to share God's love with them because I'd see this was my last chance to bless not just their time here, but their time there as well. Everyone I met would have an immeasurable worth I hadn't granted them before. Every one of my friends and family would be more important than any earthly thing I could ask for. I'd even keep my phone with me and charged, just in ca- 

No, honestly, that probably wouldn't happen.

My phone, in case you've ever wondered if I have one.

If everyone around me was dying and I was the only one who was going to make it to tomorrow, I'd make today freaking count.

-isaac