My grandfather passed away in 2020.
At his funeral, I delivered the eulogy. Here is a portion of what I said:
What can I say about this man? What can I say about a man I’ve always wanted to be just like? What can I say about a man who shaped my worldview and understanding of God more than anyone else? What can I say about a man I named my own son after?
He had a significant impact on my life. You can read my entire eulogy here.
During one of my last conversations with my grandfather, before he got sick on Thanksgiving, he made a statement to me that I found to be incredibly profound.
He said, “We live our entire lives under the shadow of death.”
While I didn’t tell him at the time, I found the statement to be deep and life-enhancing when understood correctly. In fact, merely hearing it brought about further resolve of my desire to live a minimalist life.
Consider its weight: We all live under the shadow of death.
That statement has been true in 2020 maybe more than any other year as local and national media regularly report death counts from all over the world and daily public service announcements can be heard over the airwaves asking us to act responsibly.
But death is not new to us—despite the unprecedented times we live in.
In fact, we live every day with the understanding that it may be our last. Not in a morbid, depressing way (shockingly so), but in the awareness and reality of understanding life.
Every time I get in my car to drive to work or the grocery store, I know, instinctively, something tragic could happen to me or another driver. I also know, full-well, that even if I don’t leave my house, a medical emergency could befall me or someone I love. I am not immune from a cancer diagnosis, a heart attack, a stroke, a brain aneurysm.
I have plenty of loved ones who unexpectedly received life-changing news, or were tragically stricken.
As grandpa said, “Life is lived under this shadow of death.” The reality of it surrounds us every day of our lives. And even if we don’t have a close, loved one who recently passed away, we almost certainly know someone who has.
Nobody escapes life alive.
But somehow it seems, human beings are able to both live with the knowledge of death and somehow function apart from it.
Death is inevitable. And yet, I am able to live wholly today, focused on the present and the future, as if it won’t happen to me today. I am aware of coming death, but not paralyzed by it. It is a fascinating paradox and ability of the human mind when you think about.
While the shadow of death does not paralyze me, in the quiet moments of life, the shadow motivates me and sharpens the wisest among us.
Only a fool lives as if their life will never end.
We receive one life to live, with a limited number of days and a limited number of resources with which to accomplish our purpose. Almost all of the resources we consume during our journey are limited: money, time, energy, space, focus, capacity, even the relationships we are able to pursue.
This reality of our finite nature is an incredibly important truth. It is one we should intentionally choose to focus on each day. Because when we do, it changes our actions, our motivations, and our pursuits. It changes us:
Because life is finite, we make better choices.
Because time is finite, we spend our days on things that matter.
Because money is finite, we spend it on pursuits that will outlast us.
Because our energy is finite, we choose carefully where we focus our passions.
Because our days are finite, we value relationships and love.
Because I live under the shadow of death, I will choose a minimalist life and reject the empty promise of consumerism and what this world offers. I will live for greater pursuits.
Life will end—indeed. And that realization should affect the decisions I make each day. But rather than causing me to throw in the towel and give up on life, this shadow of death will spark hope and resolve and passion to spend each remaining day of my life making the most of it.
Janita Pavelka says
Joshua,
Thank you for your faithfulness to carry out the giftings of your grandparents.
I knew Pastor Salem and Doc Salem, his brother. We lived near Mobridge. SD and Doc was the family vet. We brought many stray dogs home to our farm from their clinic.
We attended your grandfather’s church in Aberdeen on occasion as our relatives were faithful members.
Continue to write and pour out your message to the masses. We need your influence in our world, just as we needed your grandfather’s. May you be able to influence millions also.
Blessings upon you and your generations!
Warmly,
Janita Brockel Pavelka
Charlotte Coffey says
Very poignant in deed. Prayers for comfort for you and the family.
AC says
As a Christian, I must affirm that EVERY person “escapes life alive”. I doubt that you are Eastern Orthodox; however, your observations about the need constantly to remain aware of death are completely correct. The Parable of the Barns correlates precisely with your wise guidance toward disengaging both body and soul from enslavement to “things”. Thank you. Christ be with you!
YF says
As a Christian I wonder if you could have used this thoughtful and expressive article to further the Kingdom of God. Since none of us escapes alive, perhaps we need to focus more on spiritual health, and with thought to “what happens next”. We’ll all stand before God on that judgement day and we’ll hear if he says “Welcome” or “depart from me, I never knew you”.
With such thought to death, we need to focus on eternal life more than anything.
Anette Phillips says
Your article, “Living in the Shadow of Death”, was very touching and I am sorry for your loss. After losing grandparents, siblings, my parents and my husband, nothing compared to the sudden death of our 10 year old daughter, our only child. Even 23 years later it pains me to admit, if I knew then, what I know now, I would have shared the coffin with her.
I slowly learned to live again with the unwavering love and support of family and friends and continue to see a very competent therapist. I joined a support group and experienced joy and healing supporting other bereaved parents.
I am a different person today, much humbled by my losses, but strive to live my life with purpose and growth. The most important takeaway, living in the shadow of death, is nurturing my relationships.
Jeanne Whalen says
ANETTE, This is so tragic. I am profoundly sorry for YOUR loss. Though I don’t know you, and will never meet you, I commit to praying for you as the TRUE nature of life ( though temporary HERE), does not mean there isn’t greater hope found in everlasting life as it is available by faith in Christ. ❤ Jeanne
Becky says
I’m so glad you were able to have such a deep and meaningful relationship with your grandfather. He will live on through you. ?
Suzanne Donzella says
Joshua, a friend pointed me toward your website a couple of years ago. My overwhelming responsibilities have caused me to skip your posts often, but this one made me stop and read. I had no idea who you were spiritually, and I’ve now discovered a brother in Christ! I am so blessed to read your post today and praise God for your grandfather! What a blessing! I’ll now not only make sure to read your emails, but to seek out sermons from Pastor Harold. God bless you and your family. Your Grandpa is now in that great cloud of witnesses and we’ll see him one day, soon and very soon.
God bless you,
Suzanne
Anne B Griffiths says
thank you so much
Kimberly says
Beautifully written. I’m so sorry for your loss. Grandparents are some of the most special people.
Debbie Agnew says
I’m sorry for your loss. This thought has been prevalent in my mind much in this last few months. Our church has lost several members since October. Grateful to be able to see them again in heaven. But reminds me that life is but a vapor.
Sue says
You articulated so well the most compelling reason for minimalism. Beautifully written eulogy to your beloved grandfather. I wish I had known him.