Written by the other Sherry
I just came across this, and it reminded me of the discussion of/search for kerygma we've been having here.
It's well worth reading the whole thing, but here is a good taste:
I first realized the gravity of my sentence when I was around 11 years old. One night the thought of death randomly popped to mind, and for the first time I fully internalized the reality that I would one day die. Though of course I already knew that nobody lives forever, this was the first time that that veil that blocks unpleasant truths from our conciousness was pierced and I understood down to my bones that it was only a matter of time before a coffin lid closed on top of my body. The weight of that reality was too much for my intellect to bear; it's like I thought about it more in my racing heart than in my head. My whole being was aware that everything I thought of as "me" -- my body, my feelings, my loves, my thoughts, all my hopes and dreams -- were nothing more than the products of random chemical reactions that would one day cease, and "I" would disappear.
The human psyche is surprisingly good at blocking out these sorts of unbearably heavy realizations, so I managed to get out of the tailspin of despair within a couple of days and not put any more serious thought into death for a few years. But then high school and college rolled around, I became more curious about life and the world, and the reality of death began to swirl around the periphery of my thoughts once again. Most of the time I could keep my mind occupied with school and friends and parties, but every now and then that veil would fall down again and the reality of death would go seeping down into my bones, leaving me too depressed to cry.
The date of our extinction was coming up soon, getting closer by the second. The only difference between a death row inmate and anyone else, in my eyes, was that the prisoner knew the date. I had those same questions that inmate expressed: Why play cards? Why watch TV? Why read a book? Sure, you might have momentary pleasure or gain some knowledge, but it was all fleeting, and it would all disappear -- along with you -- upon your impending extermination. And the clock was ticking. We were all dead men walking.
It felt wrong -- deeply, uncomfortably wrong -- to think about all of this. And upon my conversion to Christianity I realized why:
That crushing despair I experienced when I would absorb the implications of my worldview was the feeling of a precious, eternal soul railing against the injustice of being denied. Somewhere in that part of my mind where primal truths too important for words reside was the knowledge that "I" was something more than just randomly evolved chemical reactions, that "I" was both body and eternal soul, that "I" had the opportunity to spend eternity in a place of perfect peace, and that to believe otherwise was the biggest mistake a person could ever make.
When I first came to believe the truth of Christian doctrine, I didn't think much about the eternal implications. I'd gotten good at distracting myself from thoughts of death and I didn't want to bias my research into Christianity with a desire to believe in eternal life. So it was only slowly, over time, that I became aware that I was freer than I used to be, that life seemed more complete in a certain way than it had been before. But I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was.
Then one day I was driving through an intersection where the stoplights had just lost power, and I barely missed getting into a serious, possibly deadly, accident. It was then that I realized what that new "something" was: fear of death no longer haunted me. I no longer saw the end of my life on earth as an abyss of nothingness; rather, I understood it as an opportunity to finally go home. The sleepless nights, the frantic search for distractions, the restlessness that comes with seeking a constant state of denial were all gone. Though it had happened gradually, when I compared my new state of mind with my old one I felt lighter than air; the foundation of my subconscious was now paved with joy instead of despair.
In that moment I realized that I'd spent my whole life falsely condemned to death row. And now I was finally free.