50 Years of Thinking About Death

It was exactly fifty years ago today that I really understood death for the first time. I was eight years old, and after returning from school I heard on the news that Buddy Holly had been killed in an airplane crash. Three other men were also killed: the pilot, JD "The Big Bopper" Richardson, and Ritchie Valens; but, at that moment I did not know who they were. No one in my family or any of my friends had died before that day; so this was my first brush with the idea of death.

Of course, many more would soon follow. My Great-grandma Crager died in 1961, Grandma Faulkner died in 1962, Patsy Cline on March 5, 1963, and then - of course - President Kennedy on November 22 of 1963. In 1964, Bobby Shay became my first friend and classmate to die when he was killed in an automobile accident. Since then I have lost all of my Grandparents, my Mom and Dad, as well as many more relatives and friends.

But, February 3, 1959 was the first time I began to think about what it meant to die. To this day, it amazes me how much impact this event has had on me over the years. A few years ago, while on vacation, I drove Lin many miles out of the way to visit Clear Lake Iowa and to go and stand at the spot where their plane crashed.

Its fifty years later now, and people are still dying. I read the obituaries in the Herald and Review every day to see if someone from one of our churches has passed away. And as I read names of people who have died in towns where we do not have an SBC Church, I am always reminded of our need to plant more churches to get the gospel to more people!

I guess I am thinking of two things: First, people still die and we must reach them with the gospel of grace before it is eternally too late. Second, young people - often younger than we think - are thinking about death; and this provides us with an opportunity to reach them for Christ.

May God bless our efforts to reach this world with the good news of salvation in Jesus Christ!