I find it interesting, and a bit annoying, that whenever someone dies, usually a young adult, they are effusively sanctified by the people who knew them. They were the most amazing, extraordinary, kind, brilliant, promising person you could ever meet. The dead person is purified, made out to be a saint, an extraordinary example of humankind.
It seems to me that, rather than doing something nice or wonderful for the person, it does them a disservice, for it says that the person they really were—a real person with flesh and blood, and issues and problems—was not good enough, that they have to be made out to be more than they were in order to be worthy of us caring about them; and so perhaps it helps those who grieve to justify their grief and dismay and anger; as if we can’t feel grief for someone who was flawed and “just” a regular, usually typical, person. And that seems unfair to the person, and really accomplishes the opposite of what the ostensible intention is; for it disrespects the person, the real person, who they really were. For, more likely than not, those so gushingly eulogized were regular people, with the same flaws, insecurities, and banalities as most people.
So, then, what could be the motivation for such sanctification? Perhaps by making the person perfect, and thus a martyr for all that is good and pure, it makes the death that much worse, those held responsible that much more evil. But why is it more tragic for a person who has been speciously purified of all “sin” and flaw to die rather than a regular, real, person with flaws and all? It seems that it can only be deemed “wrong” if the person was an angel. Why is this?
One answer is that people have trouble with the complexities and contradictions inherent in every human life. People do not know how to deal with complex reality—hence “right” and “wrong” at all. An act should be judged by the act itself, not by the opined character and virtue of the acted upon. A murder is a murder, whether the murdered was a pure, virginal school-girl, or man with a “checkered past.” It has to do with value and worth. One is more or less valued than the other. Why? A real person with flaws and complexities is less valued then a supposed virtuous saint.
Is this not the lesson to be learned when Jesus asked “who has never sinned?” I personally do not believe in the concept of sin, but the point is valid and important nonetheless: no one is perfect, all people have flaws and contradictions and struggles. Such things are important parts of what makes us human; and even more importantly, such things areimportant parts of our paths of awakening—they are opportunities. It’s like blaming a child for acting like a child, which is ridiculous.
We’re just growing up, but most people don’t understand this, for the reasons I have written about elsewhere when it comes to “spiritual” child vs. adult. It’s not wrong to be a child; it’s only wrong not to progress and grow up, to remain a perpetual infant.
He or she who truly struggles has opportunity for wisdom, for s/he sees and accepts the complexity of life.
We see this same sanctimonious tendency when the “American Indian” holocaust is discussed. It is only tragic if the Indians were pure, simple, idyllic people. It is only justified if they were brute savages. The reality is that they were people, with all the complexities of any other human beings. Their slaughter cannot, and should not, be judged as wrong on the basis of their perceived virtue. Why? Because who is to decide what is virtuous? What does the level of virtue of the victim have to do with the act and the reasons behind the act?
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From my personal notes, 5/27/00
