Sacredness of Life

Today, to the shock of the world, Kobe Bryant and his 13-year-old daughter died in a helicopter crash in Calabasas, along with seven others who were in the helicopter.  They were on their way to Thousand Oaks where Kobe was coaching his daughter’s basketball team.

One could not travel through this period of history without some familiarity of Kobe Bryant.  Though I, of course, did not know him other than publicly, his death still stuns.  I grieve and shed my own tears.  The phenomenon gives me pause.  My response feels deeply personal.  Many of the comments from people who get quoted are about how Kobe Bryant’s life impacted so many people.  Who would guess I would be one of them?

So I ponder.  Why am I so affected by this news?  Is it because here is a successful man who spent time with his daughter?  How awesome would it be to be coached by one of the greatest basketball players ever – and that coach also happens to be your father?  Is it because a wife and three other young children must instantly transition to the permanent absence of husband, father, and sister?  Is it because there is something “soul powerful” when a human being lives his or her life in passionate union with his or her giftedness?  Or is it just because life is sacred?  Having it snatched away abruptly leaves me stunned.  There is nothing to say because you cannot change it.  Even though it seems wrong and unbelievable, it is done.  No choices can be undone.  No slight deviation can change the outcome.  No do over is available.  It is, simply, done.

Then I wonder about all of the people who have graced my life and impacted me.  Some perhaps only fleetingly.  What about the guy at Fred Meyer who monitors the self-checkout lanes where I buy groceries?  What about these people in their cars next to me at the light?  What about my neighbors, whom I don’t know well?  I would probably grieve over their loss, too, were I to hear of it.

This matter of death may be the one most powerful indicator of life that there is!  It is the place where you have to reckon with your Creator. 

I marvel at the miracle of new life being born into the world.  And I marvel at life being taken out of it.  Both are mysterious.  Wondrous.  Beyond the fingertips of fathom.  Both bring us to the feet of something – or Someone – greater than ourselves.  Both impress upon me the sacredness of life.

If even these fleeting “graces” have an impact, do I live my life like it matters?  How many times do I dismiss someone because they are in my way?  How many times do I get irritated by someone’s rude or thoughtless behavior?  How much does my presence offer “grace” to the fleeting encounter?  How well do I care for these people for whom I feel surprisingly deeply personal? 

How much do I allow my life – my little sacred stint in this world – to matter?

That is the question I am going to ponder.  And my prayer is that through it I will be compelled to live with a deeper sense of the fleeting graces that remind me of the sacredness in every moment.