The greatest of all human mysteries is death. Its sphinx-like profile casts a mysterious shadow upon the light of our progress. It becomes a riddle even to us today because, we, too, are unable to comprehend it. There is very little we can document about death. We do know that death is the unwelcome stranger who comes without invitation. This dark angel is no respector of age and social status. The rich and young die alike. Alexander and Jesus died at age thirty-three; Keats succumbed at twenty-six; Kennedy was assassinated at forty-six.

Death is a paradox. We know biologically that we are going to run out of plasma and protoplasm. Yet when death finally comes we are shocked ... frozen ... numb. Often, in our emotional mixture of anger and helplessness, we lash out at God. "He does not care whom he takes. He's an impersonal Being who does not understand our pain." Frequently, we are frustrated in our coping with death, because life's final act stops us cold in our tracks. It goes against the grain of our technological explosion. Progress translates into the good life for all. "We haven't got time to die," we say. "The stats for this quarter's report are due Thursday."

On we move with life as business as usual. We transplant organs, perform experiments above the earth's atmosphere, and have almost mastered the art of cryonics - that is, the perpetuation of human life in the laboratory. But beneath our masks of sophistication and achievement, we have failed to create that which keeps the mind alive, the heart burning, and the soul hoping - eternal life! We ask, "Is death really a dead-end? Does death ultimately ground our happiness, bury our aspirations, and decay our hopes? What is the purpose of my life if life beyond life has no purpose? Beyond death, is there not a deeper comfort, a greater light, a higher hope?"

The late Senator Everett Dirksen once answered that question with a larger question. "If there be a design in the universe and in the world in which we live, there must be a Designer. Who can behold the inexplicable niysteries of the universe without believing that there is a design for all mankind and also a Designer?" Would God really go to the trouble to fabricate the wonders of this world - the stars, the intricate flowers, the unique snowflake - if he didn't have a more perfect world awaiting us? Would a God-Father allow his children to suffer at the expense of disease and accident if he didn't plan a dimension of peace after our death? Would God permit our exploitation at the hands of injustice, if he didn't offer a future state where all wrongs would be corrected and all sins dissolved for an infinity?

Once the people of Chile and Argentina argued over the boundary between their two countries. Later, they agreed to live at peace and erected a statue to remind them of that agreement. The Argentine sculptor melted down cannons from his country's army to form a statue of Christ. It stands today in the Andes Mountains on the border between the two countries. One hand of Christ holds a cross while the other is raised in a blessing. Hence Christ is that agent of transforming power who changes hostilities into peace, injustices into brotherhood, and sufferings into a life with purpose. We can look forward to the continuation of that power in his world beyond our boundary, as well.

To those of us who are aligned to the Christ, the hope for existence in that coming age burns radiantly. That has to be a refreshing hope in our world in which the wrong can be twisted into a momentary right. "How on earth, then, is all this eternity made possible?"

From the beginning we know that even the intricate workings of symbolic logic cannot adequately explain the spiritual "thereafter." You cannot mix oranges with pineapples. Don't even punch the computer for an answer. It will flash this printout: "Insufficient Data." Simply, "You gotta believe." I know, that's kindergarten theology; but until we are given a crystal ball, that's all we have to work with. Of course, a few have died temporarily and returned to tell of their brief odyssey. Still, that doesn't leave us much to go on. If we, as Christians, are going to deal adequately with death, we must go with faith.

Faith, then, banks on the assumption that the cross not only unlocks. As a hand it points to the light of the future - both to the future here and the future in the "thereafter." With its face to his light, faith adorns shoes, packs its bags, and moves on ... "All of God's children gotta have shoes." The journey is upward, sometimes struggling, but always toward the light. It is in the pilgrimage that equips us for that final arrival. It is our faith which must totally absorb itself in his living. In tending to the hurting needs of our community, we know that his life within never runs its course. When our dying comes, within he will vibrate with the promise, "Where I am, there you may be also."

The flower of his eternity sinks its roots into our present. We claim the future because his future for us begins in the "now." Listen to Victor Hugo's affirmation. "I feel in myself the future life. I am like a forest once cut down; the new shoots are stronger and livelier than ever. I am rising, I know, toward the sky. The sunshine is on my head. The earth gives me its generous sap, but heaven lights me with the reflection on unknown worlds."

Are we anchored in that promise today?