Closing the book
I've avoided discussing the Terri Schiavo matter before now, largely because I think far too much has been said and written already. I'm not going to add a bushel of keystrokes to the debate even now.
My primary thought is this: As much as I empathize with all of the family members involved, we're talking here about one person whose functional life effectively ended fifteen years ago. None of the screaming protests, irate radio talk callers, high-minded newspaper editorials, or political pontificating of the last few weeks could change this fact. What good might have been done in the world if all of that energy and umbrage had been directed toward helping some of the millions of people in the world who could actually be helped, people whose tragic circumstances could actually be changed with a bit of effort and attention?
Was anyone's life saved by all the Terri Schiavo sturm und drang? Sadly, no. Was anyone's life made better? Again, sadly, no. And more importantly, did anyone learn that something beyond, and more important than, physical life exists? No, and that's what's peculiar to me. Most of the folks making the great amount of noise over this poor woman are supposed to believe in life after death. From all the argumentation, you'd suppose that once Terri Schiavo's body ceased its last function, her person would cease to be. Talk about "you of little faith"...
I wouldn't want to be starved to death. I don't want to see anyone else starved to death either. On the other hand, I wouldn't care to simply exist in a condition in which I can no longer offer value to the world — when I can't write, can't teach, can't sing, can't do any of the things that make me the person I am. I do believe that were I still alive in such a condition, there must be a purpose for my continued existence. But apparently unlike so many involved in the debate, I have confidence that this isn't all there is, and if I go, then I go.
Now let's move on. Nothing more to see here.
And tomorrow, there will still be people in need of help, whom help will actually benefit. Let's try not to waste our opportunities.
My primary thought is this: As much as I empathize with all of the family members involved, we're talking here about one person whose functional life effectively ended fifteen years ago. None of the screaming protests, irate radio talk callers, high-minded newspaper editorials, or political pontificating of the last few weeks could change this fact. What good might have been done in the world if all of that energy and umbrage had been directed toward helping some of the millions of people in the world who could actually be helped, people whose tragic circumstances could actually be changed with a bit of effort and attention?
Was anyone's life saved by all the Terri Schiavo sturm und drang? Sadly, no. Was anyone's life made better? Again, sadly, no. And more importantly, did anyone learn that something beyond, and more important than, physical life exists? No, and that's what's peculiar to me. Most of the folks making the great amount of noise over this poor woman are supposed to believe in life after death. From all the argumentation, you'd suppose that once Terri Schiavo's body ceased its last function, her person would cease to be. Talk about "you of little faith"...
I wouldn't want to be starved to death. I don't want to see anyone else starved to death either. On the other hand, I wouldn't care to simply exist in a condition in which I can no longer offer value to the world — when I can't write, can't teach, can't sing, can't do any of the things that make me the person I am. I do believe that were I still alive in such a condition, there must be a purpose for my continued existence. But apparently unlike so many involved in the debate, I have confidence that this isn't all there is, and if I go, then I go.
Now let's move on. Nothing more to see here.
And tomorrow, there will still be people in need of help, whom help will actually benefit. Let's try not to waste our opportunities.
SwanShadow was randomly pounding the keyboard at 6:48 PM
1 insisted on sticking two cents in:
Perhaps I wasn't clear, Lynda, so I'll restate.
I didn't say that Terri's life had no value because of her inability to act or even react. I was speaking only of my view of my own life, not hers or anyone else's: "I wouldn't care to simply exist in a condition in which I can no longer offer value to the world — when I can't write, can't teach, can't sing, can't do any of the things that make me the person I am." And I do concur with you that life in such a condition may have purpose we don't understand; as I said: "I do believe that were I still alive in such a condition, there must be a purpose for my continued existence."
So I think we pretty much agree. I just need to express myself better! ;^)
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