Death (n.) is, for the pious, a privilege: the final gift of oneself, answering God's gift of life.
Death (n.) is the test of life's meaning; if dying means nothing, living is absurd.
Death (n.) loses its sting as negation when life itself is felt as a surprise and a gift.
Death (n.) is not only an ending but an entering.
Death (n.) can be a supreme spiritual act, a summation and an arrival rather than a defeat.
Death (n.) stops our doing, not our being.
Death (n.) is the radical refutation of human power; without it, humanity would be endless arrogance.
Death (n.) is a homecoming when life has been an answer: not a liquidation but the close of a prelude to a symphony we can only guess at.
Death (n.) is, for the pious, a final self-offering, life returned to the God who gave it.