Don E. Lavender, 33°
2913 49th Street, Des Moines, Iowa 50310-2550

Death is a great teacher with many lessons.

Everyone thinks about dying at one time or another. Generally, our thoughts turn to dying when we lose a friend or a loved one. Children learn of it at an early age when a grandparent dies. It is difficult to explain to them why someone who means so much has been taken away. What happened to them? Where did they go?

As a nineteen-year-old infantryman in WW II, I adopted a philosophy about death, as we faced it regularly. I concluded that, if it happened to me, I would not know about it nor could I do anything about it. My primary concern was for those I would be leaving behind, and I hoped they would not grieve too much.

More recently, my friends laughed at the philosophy of an elderly acquaintance when he said, "I am not afraid to die. It's just that I can't get up much enthusiasm for it." Come to think of it, that might explain how most of us feel. The problem is that dying is an unknown. No one has been there and come back to tell us about it. Of course, there are some who have had a near-death experience and explain it as a pleasant sensation with a brilliant light. Some scientists explain this as a shortage of oxygen to the brain and not really an entrance to the sublime. Even those with a near-death experience cannot be relied upon, for they were not really dead, just close to it.

Religion offers a solace, which Masonry also affirms, by explaining that the righteous are going to a better place where there are no troubles and where we will meet again with all those who have gone before. Most faith traditions encourage us to live a good life so that we may have a strong hope of going to that "better place." Who knows, maybe we will be so enchanted with the afterlife that we may wonder why we clung to this life so long.

In addition to religion, cultural factors are also involved. Most of us are accustomed to a solemn funeral service with soft music and a message of hope from a minister or priest. Some groups have great celebrations at the passing of a friend or loved one. Long processions are accompanied by music of a light and jocular nature. Some dance and play music. Members of other groups weep and wail, giving the appearance they are trying to outdo each other as proof of their sorrow.

Part of the reluctance to face death is our natural disposition to continue the status quo. Don't rock the boat. If we are not desperately ill or starving or in great pain, we don't want to do anything to upset our status. We love life and don't want to give it up.

Though we don't know what it is like after death, we must face the reality of it. One of the best things my wife and I ever did was to plan for our demise. By arranging in advance for a place of internment and for the requirements of the last rites, I was relieved of many unpleasant details when my wife died suddenly a few months ago. We all know it is going to happen sometime, but we are never quite ready. Though we might not be ready in spirit, we can be ready in reality. It softens the blow.

Albert Pike, Sovereign Grand Commander of our Order in the late 1800s, wrote in Morals and Dogma: "Death is the great teacher. It teaches us duty, to act our part well, to fulfill the work assigned to us. When one is dying, and after he is dead, there is but one question: Has he lived well?"

Regarding the philosophy of dying, I must conclude that my position as a soldier in war is as good as any. When it happens, most of us won't know about it anyway. We will only have concern for those we are leaving behind.

So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, which moves To the mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. From "Thanatopsis" by William Cullen Bryant (right)

Donald E. Lavender is a former Secretary Registar (1974–1979) of the Des Moines, Iowa, Scottish Rite Bodies. He is retired from the City of Des Moines Engineering Department and enjoys the hobbies of instrumental music and photography.