We were students living in then-Communist Romania. As we walked from our dormitory towards the center of the city, we observed vendors selling candles and flowers (typically chrysanthemums) outside the entrance to the main cemetery. The cemetery was buzzing with activity as families cleaned graves, adorned them with flowers, and lit candles in honor of their deceased loved ones. As night fell, the cemetery was transformed by the light of thousands of candles.
We’d never experienced such macabre beauty.
In Romania, it’s called “Ziua Motilor.” The Day of the Dead. November first.
Death is one of those things each of us will experience some day. And this annual pilgrimage to the cemetery is a stark reminder of that fact.
It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for that [the day of death] is the end of every man, and the living will take it to heart and solemnly ponder its meaning.
Ecclesiastes 7:2 (Amplified Bible)
The adult daughter of good friends of ours is in palliative care. Her rare, aggressive cancer caught everyone off-guard. No parent anticipates their child predeceasing them… and yet that’s what our friends are facing. Heartache upon heartache.
Their solace comes from knowing that their daughter has made a commitment to Christ and will be ushered into the presence of God when she takes her final breath. Their hope is in a Person who paid the price for her sins — those attitudes and actions that separate us from a holy God. A Person who has gone before her to prepare a place for her.
Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in Me [Jesus]. In My Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to Myself, that where I am you may be also.
John 14: 1-3
I was listening to a song this morning that encouraged my heart as I thought about our friends and their daughter…
How I long to breathe the air of heaven
Phil Wickham in “Hymn of Heaven”
where pain is gone and mercy fills the streets
to look upon the One who bled to save me
and walk with Him for all eternity.
There will be a day
when all will bow before Him.
There will be a day
when death will be no more.
Standing face to face
with Him who died and rose again
Holy, holy is the Lord.
And every prayer we prayed in desperation
the songs of faith we sang through doubt and fear
in the end, we’ll see that it was worth it
when He returns to wipe away our tears.
And on that day, we join the resurrection
and stand beside the heroes of the faith.
With one voice, a thousand generations
sing, “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain.
Forever He shall reign.”
We haven’t visited a candle-lit cemetery for a number of years, and yet thinking about this tradition has made me think about my own mortality. May it prompt you to do so as well, dear reader. Wherever you may be in your understanding of what it means to know God, I encourage you to learn more. To ask questions. To reach out to me or others.
And together, we’ll have joy in the journey of this thing called “Life!”
