Back in the day, Jazzie B of Soul II Soul fame had a hit song called "Get a Life" which included the recurring words: "What’s the meaning, what’s the meaning of life…" At the time, I didn’t give a second thought to the message of the song, it was just a another catchy tune. Oh, for the blissful innocence of youth. Now that I’m a little older, the words of that song have suddenly become so much more profound and pertinent. Indeed, "what’s the meaning of life?" is now the million-dollar question, the one with no apparent answer…
There’s been so much stuff going on lately and now it seems like the sky is falling down on me. This business of being an adult certainly isn’t all it was hyped up to be. Suddenly I have to deal with real-life issues like job security for instance. The possibility of getting laid-off is very real in these lean economic times, so what are my options if God-forbid, I should lose my job? Will I go back home? Can I ever go back home? Where is home anyway? Is it Nigeria, the land where I was born and raised and where my identity as a proud black woman was nurtured and shaped? Or do I christen the United States home because this is where most of my family and friends are and this is where my livelihood is? They tell me that home is where the heart is, but if my heart is both in Nigeria and in the United States, then how do I choose?
On a more personal note, why is it that relationships never seem to work for me? More often than not, the guys I like aren’t interested in me, and the ones who are feeling me just don’t do it for me. Maybe I’m subconsciously blocking out the real prospects because deep down I’m mortified by the thought of committing myself to one person for the rest of my life. What if I don’t choose right? What if the man I decide to settle down with today turns into a wife-beating monster tomorrow? The notion is almost laughable except that it’s not really all that far-fetched. Examples of marriages and partnerships gone awry abound in my stratosphere, and as I look at these couples, I can’t help but wonder where they went wrong. They all started out their unions with high hopes for a blissful forever after, but they took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in misery-land. How did they get there? More to the point, what’s the guarantee that I won’t make the same mistakes that they did? I suspect that I might be commitment-phobic. Why else does the thought of being in a committed, life-long relationship strike mortal fear into my heart?
In any case, why should I go to the trouble of loving people, getting involved with them, getting used to having them around only for them to suddenly up and die on me? What really is the point of this life? You hustle for a job and for material things, struggle for love and affirmation from those around you; you love, you hate, you fight and you strive, you laugh and you cry, but ultimately you die and the world remembers you no more. Death is inevitable – the one debt we all must pay. And we know this, but still we’re never prepared when the Hangman comes to collect his due. Why is this? Perhaps it’s better for me to simply exist in a vacuum and divest myself of any interests in this world and the things that are contained in it. That way, I would have avoided the pain and devastation I felt when Mummy died and when Bolaji died and when the man I thought I loved said he wanted to be just friends and when my so-called friends stabbed me in the back and when my insecurities threatened to swallow me up and when I couldn’t sleep at night because my heart wouldn’t stop pounding…. Solitude just might be the perfect antidote to the perils of this pointless existence. And when I die, I die alone, without anyone to mourn me or cry for me because no-one ever even knew that I was. But then, what kind of a life is that? If I’m going to live that way, then I might as well just call it quits right now. Because all of this – the joy and yes, the pain of intimate involvement - is what makes life worth living. Death is a sure bet, and so are hard times, but the good times make it all worth it. Eventually…
Maybe death is the ultimate release. Those who are dead do not feel pain or grief or loss or loneliness; they simply do not feel. It is we who are left behind who have to bear the burden of the loss. The dead do not have to worry about bills or heartbreak or disease or crime or global warming or any of the myriad issues that keep people awake at night. Worry is the exclusive privilege of the living. So why do we cry when people die? Why am I so broken up over Bolaji’s death? The truth is, we cry not for the dead, but for ourselves. Actually the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that mourning is a very selfish affair. Yes, we might be sad because the dead person did not live to fulfill their maximum potential, but mostly we cry because we are going to miss that person and because we’re lonely without them. Or because we never got to say good bye or I’m sorry or I love you or whatever. And most of all, we cry because the death of a loved one reminds us of our own mortality and serves us notice that we will one day keep our appointment with the Grim Reaper. Most of us are ill-prepared to confront this dark reality and so we cry because death - particularly untimely death - forces us to confront the stark reality that we are completely powerless to prevent our own eventual demise.
Which brings us right back to the million dollar question that I referred to earlier: "What is the meaning of life?" Why do we work so hard to acquire possessions and qualifications that will not save us at the end of the day? Why do we bother to cultivate relationships with people when we know that we are going to die and leave them behind for good, or vice versa? If death is the ultimate end to all things, then we may as well throw in the towel right now because everything we’re doing is futile. But there is good news: what makes this life worth living is the hope that we profess in the Lord Jesus Christ - the hope that boldly declares that this world is not all there is, and that death is not an end but a new beginning. Without Christ, this life is truly hopeless, but with Him and in Him, everything takes on a glorious meaning. Those of us who confess Him understand that there is more to life than what we see and we live our lives accordingly. We can love without restraints, and we can cry without being despondent because we know that God orders all things and works everything out for the good of those who love Him. It is because I have Christ and I am in Him that I am assured that I have a bright future, both in this world and in the next. And even when things don’t look so rosy – when job prospects are rocky, when my heart gets broken, when I lose the ones I love – I do not yield to the depression that so desperately wants to take me under. I know that Jesus Christ lives, and that knowledge, my brethren, is what gives meaning to this life.
Shalom.
