An activity of Pastor William
Salmon
Making Death My Friend
On New Year’s
Eve 2013, I got a tattoo on my left butt!
Since I've
donated my body to
This will make
it possible when they take my body to KU
and roll me over, I
can have the “last
laugh!"
This April begins my 80th year, and I’m planning
my Memorial Service for July at a local hall in
On Sunday afternoon, we'll have another
party for the tea-totalers along the same line but the choir will sing, etc.
Perhaps, I can convince Pastor Barry to dedicate the Sunday Service to
interpreting the Funeral Service.
The
thinking in back of this was first planted in my mind while in the Order. We
read a book by Carlos Castaneda (“The Teachings of Don Juan”) where
he wrote that, "Death never lies to us. When we ask Death, ‘Am I
dead yet?’ and Death says, ‘No!’ then we are not dead.”
On the other hand, when we ask, “Am I dead yet?’ and Death says,
‘Yes,’ you can absolutely believe we are dead.” (Loosely
quoted)
With
this mind, I made the decision to make death my friend. Which, by-the-way, is
good theology as Jesus taught us on the cross to die early to living
independently from God** in order to live
the surrendered life. Consequently, it makes sense of the resurrection;
I'm already a dead man walking. Actual death is just another stage that My Friend
will see me through, whenever that will be.
The
second source of this thinking is a book by Mitch Albom, “Tuesday’s
With Morrie.” Interestingly, this was the longest running Number 1 book
on the NY Book list. Morrie is the professor of Albom who makes the commitment
to visit his professor every Tuesday since Morrie is slowly dieing, and he
decides to hold his own Memorial Service so that he can enjoy it. Today, this
is an idea that many are making.
Since
I am being cremated by KU and after they are through with me—laughing all
the way, of course--I’ll be sent back to
Please
do not morn for me, as you were there when,
“I danced in the morning. . . .
I danced on the Sabbath. . . .
I
dance with the Devil on the back. . . .
They
cut me down and I lept up high. . . .
Dance
then. . . . Dance then. . . .*
(In gratitude to “Zorba, The
Greek”!)
*
PS: The two tattoo artists laughed all the way
though the 2-hour procedure. The other artist suggested that the KU med student
skin out my tattoo, tan it and hang it on the wall. So much for tattoo parlor
humor.
Bill
**Salmonology defines God experientially as At-One-Ment or/and as The Guarantor.