out to Sunday, March 21, 1999, I heard a teenager die. It was about 3:45 in the morning, and I was sleeping with the window open - I love the night air on cool nights. There was a loud screech of tires, a rumble, and an incredibly loud POP! It certainly wasn’t the sound you’d expect, from listening to the wrecks in TV shows, the way the foley artists make them sound. I grabbed my phone and fumbled at dialing 911 in the dark. Looking out the window, I saw flames, and talked with the operator, giving all the information she needed.
As quickly as I could, I put on some clothes, grabbed a jacket and headed out. I have a Red Cross First Aid certificate, and I hoped I’d be able to help in some way. When I got to the scene, I saw a pile of wreckage leaning against a tree, in flames. A car pulled up at the time I was just getting there. Two guys got out, and one said, “E.M.T!” so I backed away, to let them do their work.
At first, they thought they were dealing with a motorcycle, because the wreckage on fire was so small, but it turned out that it was only the front end of the car that had wrecked. Further on, we found the main body of the car, and one body, lying on its side, as if asleep on the ground. The EMTs spent only a little time examining the body. There was nothing to be done.
I hung around a little while. None of the other neighbors came offer help. They had their lights on, and they watched from their bedrooms. I expect that none of them were trained in first aid, and were aware that they had no real help to offer. I kept thinking of a similar accident, more than 20 years ago now, in which a good friend had been thrown from the car he was in. He was found, barely alive, and spent the next couple of months in the hospital. I had wanted to help here, but I had nothing to offer at this time, either.
I looked over the scene, fixing it in my mind. I noticed that this person was wearing a University of North Carolina t-shirt, nice powder blue and white and clean. There were a pair of rather expensive tennis shoes about 30 feet away from the body. I later learned that he had earlier in the night been in a Junior League basketball tournament (his team had won a championship), so they could have been just tossed from the car, instead of being ripped from his feet. I didn’t get close enough to check, in any case. There were car parts all over the place, and the engine itself was sitting on the grass, clean and silvery in the light of the nearby street lamp. The car, what little was still recognizable, was a maroon hatchback of some sort. The paint looked well-kept, and the wheel I saw had a chrome cover. Soon, there were several volunteer firemen around - some came to briefly cluster around the body, but most appeared concerned with the business of putting out the fire and making sure the scene was safe. The State Patrol arrived, and an ambulance, but other than covering the body with a plastic sheet, they expressed little interest in the scene. No one appeared to notice me or want to ask me for information or help. After about 20 minutes, I decided to leave.
After I got home, I lay in bed, listening to the proceedings. There was a mutter of thunder, as a storm was sending a line of showers in from the south that morning. Shortly, I heard a woman crying great, loud sobs in the night - his mother, I expect. I started thinking about the grief process, and I also started thinking about the religious aspects of this event.
My first thought was rather cynical (well, I had been awakened from a pretty sound sleep). I thought about the prayers that would come about after this. I wondered if anyone (especially in the family) would pray for this young man to be resurrected. I had been dealing for quite a while with the subject of prayer, as presented in the Christian Bible. I especially thought about the promises of Jesus that anything prayed for by believers would be granted. The writers of the Gospels made no exceptions in the promise - Jesus said that anything would be granted. He left an out for God, though. The supplicant had to believe enough. So in the case of this poor young man’s family, not only would they not get their prayer granted to them, they would have to accept the fact that (according to Jesus) it’s their fault for not believing their prayer would result in the asked-for miracle. On the other hand, most people who follow the reasoning of prayer usually prefer the explanation in the book of 1 John - their prayer must ask for things in accordance with God’s will. You want your son back? No, it’s not in God’s will. A little less damaging to the faith, but harmful nonetheless. In any event, all who dare to pray for the miracle of Lazarus are going to be disappointed, regardless of the
Death is either a dreamless sleep or an eternal paradise
- Socrates
I wonder if saad is still around?
In any case, this is yet another Christianity vs Atheism, in which something doesn’t add up, and only two options are ever spoken of, because of the absolute dualism…
About resurrections:
Those take allot of energy, from super beings or a group of ordinary, well-trained human beings. And resurrections will usually only work on the freshly deanimated, if no organs are destroyed.
It doesn’t matter what Jesus said about “God” because Jesus was not the wisest or highest or most true being.
Prayers are best at one of two tasks:
Affirmation.
Telepathy.
But any non-telepaths wont have allot of success in prayer if they attempt communication with a higher being.
So what is it that saddens Saad? The dead person is now in heaven! If he isn’t in heaven then he’s in hell, and because Saad’s god is just, he must have deserved to go to hell. Saad didn’t know the person, so he can’t be sad because he’s going to miss him.
Why is saad so sad at death? Doesn’t his god comfort him?
Did you read saad’s whole post?
He sounded rather atheist to me… Although I’m not 100% sure of it.
I must confess, I did not.
Ha!
I love God for the simple fact that he’s my lord.
When I get out in the night,I know well that he’s protecting me.
I adorn an invivisible lord,great and generous.
I don’t adorn man this mean creature whose function is nothing.
God is to be loved ;he whose care is giving us power. [/list]
Death is amonst other things a cessation of becoming.

Death is amonst other things a cessation of becoming.
Death is most of all a cessation, I would agree.