Oh we Americans with our sordid obsession with cheap horror and corn syrup, have robbed the heart out of an ancient dilemma.

We are either purely mortal and will perish as easily as the dried leaves sweeping down over a wintering landscape.

Or we are somehow immortal and should not rest until we have the most reliable answers to how and why and where we will live forever.

It matters.

Either way it matters.

If we are just the chemical sum of a mortal life, it is absolutely cruel to adorn the celebration of our extinction with ghost stories and cheap disguise.

We should never celebrate death without hope.

And if we are indeed immortal we should take this holiday for the words in its name.

Hallowed means holy, revered, sacred.

We are on the eve of something holy. We approach the divine.

And how we do it matters.

John 5:28-29 (NIV)
“Do not be amazed at this, for a time is coming when all who are in their graves will hear his voice [29] and come out—those who have done good will rise to live, and those who have done evil will rise to be condemned.

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