A couple of years ago a much-acclaimed movie, "Songcatcher" was released in VHS and DVD formats. The movie and soundtrack capture the essence of the old English, Irish and Scottish folk songs, now largely preserved in the musical traditions of the Appalachian regions of North America (West Virginia and especially North Carolina), most of which have deep roots in spiritual songs that have been sung for (quite literally) centuries.
Among the more expressive songs is a contemplative piece called, "O Death, O Death," or simply "Conversation with Death." Frankly, it is an eerie and haunting melody that strikes the heart with a profound sense of despair at just how real is its possibility. Here are the lyrics, as sung in "Songcatcher" (it is also performed a cappella in the famous movie, "O Brother, Where Art Thou?"—dare we have confidence that this portends a future, more spiritual direction for movies yet to come?):
Oh what is this, I cannot see
An icy hand takes hold on me?
Oh I am death, that none can excel;
I open the door to heaven and hellOh death, oh death how can it be
That I must come and go with thee?
Oh death, oh death how can it be
For I'm unprepared for eternity?Oh yes I've come for to get your soul,
Take your body and leave it cold;
I'll drop the flesh from off’n your frame,
The earth and worms both have their claimI’ll lock your jaw, so you can’t talk;
I’ll fix your feet, so you can’t walk;
I’ll close your eyes, so you can’t see:
This very hour, come and go with me.Oh death, oh death please let me see
If Christ has turned his back on me.
When you were called and asked to bow,
You wouldn't take heed and it's too late now.Oh death, oh death, please give me time
Too fix my heart, to change my mind.
Your heart is fixed, your mind is bound,
And I have the shackles to drag you down.Farewell, farewell, to all farewell;
My doom is fixed I'm summoned to hell.
As long as God in heaven shall dwell,
My soul, my soul, shall scream in hell
The figure of speech used in these lyrics is called apostrophe (spelled and pronounced exactly like our punctuation mark). Bullinger is cited and his definition of apostrophe is expanded in the following quote: "Turning one’s speech from one audience to another. Most often, apostrophe occurs when one addresses oneself to an abstraction, to an inanimate object, or to the absent, usually with emotion" ("Silva Rhetoricae,"http://www.humanities.byu.edu).
This is a figure of speech that is quite familiar to Bible students. Indeed, the same inanimate abstraction, Death, is addressed by the apostle, Paul in 1 Corinthians 15:55. It is also used by several Hebrew prophets, such as in Hosea 13:14, whence Paul drew his citation.
Job cried, "O earth, do not cover my blood, and let there be no resting place for my cry" (Job 16:18), with the force of affirming the righteousness of his case, a righteousness that could not be hidden even by his death and burial. Rather, he continued, "Even now, behold, my witness is in heaven, and my advocate is on high." In Job’s figure, apostrophe is extended from speaking to Death and the grave, by means of metonomy (a change of name; in this case the grave is called "earth" as the medium that covers the dead body). Obviously, this is a very powerful figure of speech.
The importance of having a conversation with death is summed up in the fact that what really matters is that we have a conversation with ourselves before we are compelled to converse with Death and the grave. Too many are flirting with eternal condemnation, all the while never thinking about the importance of preparation in this life.
This is the "stuff" of great songs and literature. Charles Dickens called upon the same forceful thought when he had the following words pierce the mind of Ebenezer Scrooge as The Ghost of Christmas to Come brought him to look upon his own (future) dead body,
"Oh cold, cold, rigid, dreadful Death, set up thine altar here, and dress it with such terrors as thou hast at thy command: for this is thy dominion! But of the loved, revered, and honoured head, thou canst not turn one hair to thy dread purposes, or make one feature odious. It is not that the hand is heavy and will fall down when released; it is not that the heart and pulse are still; but that the hand was open, generous, and true; the heart brave, warm, and tender; and the pulse a man's. Strike, Shadow, strike! And see his good deeds springing from the wound, to sow the world with life immortal!"¶
Scrooge knew—as we also know—that death has power over a man only when his own claim over Death is rendered ineffectual and vain through his neglect of righteous living. As he reflected on his own empty soul, Scrooge pleaded with his Spiritual Visitor to assure him that he could still change:
'Men's courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead,' said Scrooge. 'But if the courses be departed from, the ends will change. Say it is thus with what you show me!'"¶
It is true that Dicken’s purpose was to lead men to keep the "spirit of Christmas" every day of the year, and there is some sense in which his design is both right and proper. I’ll not pursue the matter of Christmas or its origins, but will simply acknowledge the force of Dicken’s story by pointing out that the change seen in the literary Scrooge must also take place in our own lives.
Take a moment to read, again, the words of "A Conversation with Death" (especially the last verse). Although we must afford a significant poetic license to the lyrics, we note also a deep spiritual truism. In spite of the somewhat macabre speech of Death, seen in such phrases as "I’ll drop the flesh from off your frame; The Earth and worms both have their claim," there is a compelling realization in our own souls that this is true. Job, too, knew this fact and called upon his future vindication in the following words,
"Oh that my words were written! Oh that they were inscribed in a book! That with an iron stylus and lead they were engraved in the rock forever! As for me, I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last He will take His stand on the earth. Even after my skin is destroyed, yet from my flesh I shall see God; whom I myself shall behold, and whom my eyes will see and not another."
I wonder, can we be as confident? Perhaps we, too, need to have an intimate conversation with Death – or even better, with ourselves.