“Natural death, which is the separation of the soul from the body, is simple death. But to feel death, that is, the terror and fear of death – this indeed is real death…it is experiencing the very presence of death, to reach that point where the final intervention occurs, where one has ‘bottomed out.’”
On Being a Theologian of the Cross

Have you ever “bottomed out?” 

Have you ever reached that mysterious and dark corner in your mind where all that you are – your abilities, talents, resources – and all that you hope to be – a hero, a leader, a success – are not enough to help or save you? When you look in the mirror and stare deep in your wide awake eyes you know, for absolute certain, that the real answers of life do not derive from me. I don’t have what it takes. The future is not going to end well if I must create the solution by myself. I have not carved out a well of joy that can be filled by me.

The way you can tell when you have reached this point is when your hands fall limp at your side, all your energy and options are spent, and you quit trying because you have reached a dead end. There standing before you is a 50-foot high red brick wall closing in on you with no window blasted out to crawl through. You have arrived here not because you are depressed, it is not the result of an emotional breakdown; you are not feeling sorry for yourself, or because you are trying to get the attention and pity of others – -but simply because you know you have been weighed, tried and found wanting.

Not only are you in your right mind, but you finally see life as it really is, and God is the only one who can come to your rescue.

Peter the Galilean fisherman reached this point when a sudden violent storm broke down upon him during a fishing excursion and he knew he was going to die. He wasn’t pouting, he was just calling it as it is, “Master, master, we are perishing.” Abraham too reached this point when he was told he must sacrifice his son, “Then Abraham reached out his hand and took the knife to slaughter his son.” It is the end of all options and the only thing left is to face the reality of death.

It is reaching the mental certainty of finality with no escape. There is no need to try to hang on to my reputation any longer, no more grasping at straws, no more ropes to pull. It is over, it is final, and I give up. The world, as it is, wins and I admit defeat, game over.

Reaching this point in real life is humiliating, it is meant to crush you, bringing you back to dust and ash. It is terrible and horrible, it forces a person to admit his limits, take off all the masks he has been hiding under, and accept the inevitable. Holy Scripture calls this death. Luther calls this the “good death”, the “real death.” Physical death is nothing compared to this because when I die the “good death” I still must live with the knowledge I am done. Job, Isaiah, and John the Apostle, even with their hearts still beating, all said, “Woe is me!” In that moment they died, and yet, they continued living.

Most of us, nay, all of us, daily try to present someone I am not to others. “Look at me, I am capable, I am smart, I am strong, I am funny, I am good looking, and I am morally good.” But when I finally “bottom out” all of those personal “I ams” dissipate and leave me bereft and naked by myself where I am forced to admit “I am not.” Jeremiah says it is good for a young man “to sit alone in silence, let him put his mouth in the dust – there may yet be hope.”  I am left with shedding the false personal “I am” needing the real eternal “I am” in order to survive.

According to Colossians 3:3, Christianity begins with the phrase, “For you have died…” That is “bottoming out”, admitting my absolute need, and letting my hands hang limp. Colossians 3:5 continues and says, “Put to death therefore…” Because I died I must put to death the “I ams” I once thought I was. Dying must be a constant reality.

The first time I ever died I will never forget it.

I was wearing a blue suit, a long black trench coat, and I parked near a frozen Lake Erie on a Tuesday afternoon around 2 in February. The wind was streaking cold across the frozen surface of an abandoned beach. No one was around, not a soul was stirring. I bent down to pick up a frozen rock, I wasn’t wearing gloves. I threw the single flat stone across the stiff ice and watched it skip a while.

I stood silent. I had nothing to offer to the world, I felt alone. I looked up in the gray sky and said, “Help.” I felt dead, not like I wanted to end my life, but that in my smallness I was exposed. Who was I fooling? Death means I quit trying to prop up me. And I am ok with it.

Death frees you. When you no longer have to prove that “I am” you begin to wait on God to prove “He is the great ‘I am’”. Did you know resurrection only comes after a death occurs? Did you know unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone? Did you know your best life now is death?

Dying does not mean the end of living, your heart still beats, your feet still shuffle and stumble, your lungs breath in and out, but your soul “bottoms out.” You no longer have anything to prove. You no longer have to have things your way. You no longer need to be better than others. You are set free.

When you are dead other’s critical opinions no longer influence you. Joy rises up in you because God lives in you. Because you are dead, there is finally enough room for God to live! You are simply happy for being alive. Dead people don’t need to be the boss, but when they become the boss they are best servants you ever met. Dead people realize everything in life is gravy, undeserved, tasty, overflowing gravy.

And the final thing about death, since you have already died you are ready to die. Have you died? Look in the mirror and ask yourself, “Do you have what it takes?” And if you say “Yes, of course” you haven’t died.

Dying is never easy, but if you want to be risen with Christ his cross, the symbol of our execution, can not be ignored.