Why do people die?

It's been a while since I have written anything on this blog.  You see, my dad died, and I haven't felt like I had much to say.

I have been trying to get back into life this week, but my feet are dragging.
I have everything -- hundreds of condolences, plenty of vacation time off of work, frankly, we have been treated like royalty.  There is nothing anyone could do better than what has been done for us.

Yet, there is still the ache, deep down inside.
My dad is gone.

He was like the sky, something you don't notice most days, but you never actually even wonder if it is there.  You just assume it is there.  You mostly don't stop and look
until it is time for the sunset.

Well I have been stopping and looking, and it has been beautiful.
I even told people it is morning now,
but it still feels like midnight.

Why do people die?

I thought of various redemptive meanings. Every great conflict needs a buzzer to end it all, to signal the victory.  There needs to be a climax and an end to any great story.  There is a rhythm to life and death that somehow keeps things going.
but tonight I say hogwash.

Death is the enemy.

Why do people die?  Because someone has sucked the life out of this world, that's why.  It's not the way it is suppose to be. It was not their time.  It is not that God needs another flower for his garden.  It's not that he lived a good life and was 81.

I used to think that the death of old people was legitimate, in the sense that, "What else did you expect? Your grandmother was 96.  Do you really miss feeding her every day and watching her drool?"

I see it differently now.  Death is always the enemy.  God is life.  Death came by sin. Death hurts.

So when I miss my dad, I am not dealing with something very logical or unusual or even entirely unexpected, but I am beating my head against the universal wall of mortality,
and it sure does hurt,
period.

There is that place in Scripture where Jesus wept.  I have heard that story in sentimental terms, but I read something else recently.  The more little rendering apparently is that Jesus groaned with sorrow mixed with anger.  Ughhhhh, the enemy stole another one. 

This rendering also sheds a different light on what happens later.

Jesus speaks in a very loud voice.  The description is more like a war cry. Its as if he is speaking straight into Hell -- the place he himself is going to enter and bust open in a few months.  Its as if his mission is becoming clearer by the moment, and he screams with the clarity only great conflict can bring, "Lazarus, come forth!!!"