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Fear
no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages. William Shakespeare |
Many Faiths Speak To You
This moment reconnects you to the profound mystery of Life, to the Universe, and to the question of Purpose.
Some who have already answered these questions for
themselves find comfort in their Faith. For others, this is a time to
consider again the Mystery and listen for something that may resonate within.
BUDDHISM
Life is a journey.
Death is a return to the earth.
The universe is like an inn.
The passing years are like dust.
http://www.lib.virginia.edu/exhibits/dead/index2.html
CHRISTIANITY
O Divine master, grant that I may not so much
Seek to the consoled as to console;
To be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love;
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Frances of Assissi
CONFUCIANISM
No lake so still but that it has its wave;
No circle so perfect but that it has its blur.
I would change things for you if I could;
As I can't, you must take them as they are.
HINDUISM
People partition off their lands by means of boundaries, but no one can partition off the all-embracing sky overhead. The indivisible sky surrounds all and includes all. So people in ignorance say, "My religion is the only one, my religion is the best." But when a heart is illuminated by true knowledge, it knows that above all these wars of sects and sectarians presides the one indivisible, eternal, all-knowing bliss.
As a mother, in nursing her sick children, gives rice and
curry to one, and sago arrowroot to another, and bread and butter to a third, so
the Lord has laid out different paths for different people suitable for their
natures.
ISLAM
A Stream, from its source in far-off mountains, passing through every kind and description of countryside, at last reached the sands of the desert. Just as it had crossed every other barrier, the Stream tried to cross this one, but it found that as fast as it ran into the sand, its waters disappeared.
The Stream was convinced, however, that its destiny was to cross this desert, and yet there was no way. Then it heard a hidden voice, coming from the desert itself, that whispered, "The wind crosses the desert, so can the Stream."
The Stream objected: the wind could fly, that was why it could cross a desert. The voice said, "Allow the wind to carry you across."
But how could this happen? "By allowing yourself to be absorbed in the wind," the voice explained.
The idea was not acceptable to the Stream. After all, it had never been absorbed before. It did not want to lose its individuality. And, once having lost it, how was one to know that it could ever be regained?
"Cannot I not just remain the stream I am?" the Stream asked, as ever more of it was lost into the sands.
The whisper answered: "Your essential part will be carried away and will form a stream again. Are you afraid you do not know which part of you is essential?"
Dimly, the Stream thought it may have remembered some time before being held in the arms of the wind, and released its vapors. The wind gently bore it upwards and crossed the desert. On a mountain many, many miles away, the wind released it to fall softly as rain.
And that is why it is said that the way the Stream of Life continues on its journey is written in the Sands.
Adapted from "The Tale Of The Sands"
http://filebox.vt.edu/org/islam_sa/death.txt
JUDAISM
Adonai, You have been
our refuge in all generations.
Before the mountains were born or the earth was formed
From everlasting to everlasting You are God.
You turn a person to dust You say: "Return, O mortals."
A thousand years are in Your sight
As a passing day, an hour of night.
You carry us away and we sleep
We flourish in the morning like grass.
In the morning it grows anew
In the evening it is cut down and withers.
We are consumed by Your anger
We are overcome by Your wrath.
You set out our sins before
You Our secrets before Your presence.
Your anger darkens our days
Our lives expire like a sigh.
The days of our years are three-score and ten
Or even by reason of strength four-score years.
Laden with trouble and travail,
Life is quickly gone, and we fly away.
Who can know the power of Your wrath?
Who can measure the reverence due You?
Teach us to number our days
That we may get us a heart of wisdom.
Relent, Adonai! How long must we suffer?
Have compassion upon your servants.
Match days of sadness with days of joy
Equal to the years we have suffered.
Let your work appear to Your servants
And Your glory upon Your children.
May Adonai our God show us graciousness
And may Adonai prosper the work of our hands.
A Prayer of Moses (Psalm 90)
ROMANI (GYPSY)
There are many superstitious omens of death, the most common of which is the cry of the owl. A more certain sign of death is serious illness. When Roma feel that one of their group is about to die, word is urgently sent to all relatives, no matter how far away they might be. Through fixed contact points called vurma, Roma are able to find one another in time of need, even without fixed addresses. When an emergency arises, relatives and friends are contacted, especially in the case of death. All relatives who can possibly do so appear at the bedside of the person who is reaching the end of his life. It is necessary to show family solidarity, and to obtain forgiveness for any harmful act they might have committed toward the dying in the past. There must be no danger of a lingering hidden envy or secret resentment on the part of those who are about to begin a journey to the world of the dead.
