Perhaps you will not think me morbid for finding obituaries interesting. They are actually more about life than death, for they provide a succinct account of the person's life, which often reveals something of what the person considered most important about life. And they are generally factual about the deceased's life. An obituary, whoever prepares it, is hardly the place to equivocate. Charity requires, of course, that only positive things about the person's life be recounted, though tragedies and reverses in life are sometimes recalled.

I find the obituaries in the Harvard Magazine especially interesting, perhaps because Harvard alumni have generally lived successful and productive lives that are often dedicated to philanthropic causes. And there is great diversity in talent and accomplishment, with some having pursued unique vocations. They were often rich or near rich, and their generosity was often impressive. But they faced the same trials, hardships, and tragedies as the rest of us, and the obituaries often recount struggles against incredible odds.

There is for instance Claudia Morgan, a 1961 graduate of Harvard, who spent 30 years in a wheelchair with multiple sclerosis. She nonetheless served as an urban planner for several American cities, and as a member of "Wings on Wheels" she completed the 2000 New York City Marathon in her wheelchair. She was also a talented singer who participated in several choral groups. She died at 65, leaving a husband, two children, and a dear friend who was her longtime caretaker. There might be a parable in that story, "The kingdom of God is like a nurse who showed tender loving care to someone in a wheelchair."

Edward Sheehan, Jr., Harvard class of 1979, died of a heart attack when only 48. Running was his passion. He held several records in track and cross country at Harvard, and he ran in the Boston Marathon eight times, finishing in the top l5 twice. Twice he qualified for the U.S. Olympic trials. He made his living in merchandising management, but left that to coach track and cross country at Harvard. In recent years he was still running 45 miles a week. He died while running! There may be a parable here too, but I'll let you frame this one.

Andrew Scott took a Ph.D. from Harvard in 1950 in Political Science, and taught at the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill for 34 years. He was widely recognized for his work in international relations. He authored l2 books in his field, but also wrote children's books. In his retirement he formed a company that built innovative kayaks. He was a skilled sailor and had a deep love for the sea, especially the coastal waters of Nova Scotia. He had a beautiful singing voice and loved to dance, well into his 80s.

Samuel Perry, Jr. was a black man who graduated from Harvard in 1941, which means he lived to a ripe old age. He was a journalist, writing hundreds of research papers for leading publications, especially in the areas of international affairs and civil rights. His most important work, as he saw it, was what he did on the side as a private tutor for poor black students in Boston. For 40 years he helped them along in their studies, and he lived to see many of them finish college and make something of their lives.

Alvin Novak was gay. He took an M.D. from Harvard Medical School in 1941, and was a professor at Yale for 47 years. He was an authority on the sonar navigation system of bats, and his research in echo-systems was used by the U.S. military to improve its radar technology. In 1982 he shut down his laboratory at Yale to dedicate the rest of his life to the fight against AIDS. He was a founder of the Yale Center for the Study of AIDS. He promoted the needle-exchange program for intravenous drug users, and pressed for safeguards at blood banks. He helped found one of the first nursing homes for AIDS patients, and was president of the Gay and Lesbian Medical Association. He was a prisoner of war in Germany in World War II. Having never married, he left no immediate survivors. But he had a "life partner" who preceded him in death.

You see what I mean -- diversity, drama, philanthropy. The obituaries never mention church affiliation, if any, and nothing is said about God, faith or religion, not even hope. It may be an editorial policy. In our local paper in the "paid" obituaries, written by surviving loved ones, nearly everyone "went home to be with the Lord." No one at Harvard dies and goes home to be with the Lord -- or at least the Harvard Magazine never tells it on them if they did.

If the author of Ecclesiastes should read modern obituaries, he might say it is no different from the ancient world -- "All is vanity and grasping for the wind." When one considers the brevity of life and the certainty of death, it is tempting to see it all as meaningless, particularly if it all ends in this world. Paul said it well: "If in this world only we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most miserable" (1 Cor. 15:19). It is disturbing that good, intelligent people can talk about life and death -- even while living nobly -- and make no reference to hope. And they live as if there is no God.

One thing about obituaries, especially those at Harvard, is that they tell what the deceased did during their lifetime. Not the bad things perhaps, but the good, which is often sacrificial. And is that not the point of life -- to do good things? It is noteworthy that when Scripture speaks of judgment it is more in reference to what we have done than to what we have believed, such as: "We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that each one shall receive the things done in the body, according to what he has done, whether good or bad" (2 Cor. 5:10).

According to what one has done. Perhaps we are all writing our own obituary, day by day.

Note

I will be speaking next Lord's day at 10 a.m., June 18, at the South MacArthur Church of Christ. 1401 S. MacArthur Blvd., Irving, Tx.

All previous essays are available at www.leroygarrett.org Click on Soldier On.