"Not me, I think I'm gonna stick around. I've just got to find out how this movie ends."

Randy Stonehill, "Weight of the Sky"

A student approached me the other day asking me why society condemns suicide when life itself is meaningless. Interesting question. I wasn't able to give him a well-structured response at the time, but it is a question of spectacular fascination to me. Why live?

The premise that life is meaningless is certainly a thesis that has been pondered throughout time. I mentioned the Biblical book Ecclesiastes in my last entry. The speaker in that text starts off by saying, "Meaningless! Meaningless! All is meaningless." And I can agree with this stance. Life at times makes me laugh. We toil and toil, but for what? Why do we do what we do? Why do we take our jobs and lives so seriously? It all feels like a chattering in the wind, at times, with no sense, no reason. Yet, we continue this dance in great hope of finding some profound understanding. Why not suicide? Why not end the misery now? Why do I continue to choose life?

For me, perhaps it's as simple as solving a mathematical equation or the Rubik's cube. There is a thrill in unlocking the meaninglessness, the confusion; finding a solution within the chaos, (and please forgive me, my liberal compatriots), discovering the intelligent design(s) (minus the mumbling of fools who abuse its true application, school boards notwithstanding). Life is pointless, if we fail to frequently seek out meaning. We create our reality. Suicide is an individualistic choice. Like it or not, it is a reality, a meaning. It may be the meaning of this life for some. To be or not be; to live or not live. I know this sounds controversial, but allow me to explain.

Suicide is not just the actual killing of one's physical existence. For many, suicide involves the killing off of pieces of oneself. There are many forms of suicide and some are more noble than others. The suicide I try to prevent within individuals is the suicide of defeat, of giving up, because darkness is visible. However, purpose driven suicides are of another matter. The suicides of Alfred Nobel, Mahatma Gandhi, Sojourner Truth, Jesus Christ are nobel suicides. I can hear it now -- "Whoa! Wait a minute! These people did not commit suicide. That's blasphemy!" But did not all these people commit an act of suicide for the greater good?

Take Alfred Nobel who in 1888 read a mistaken obituary about his death. It was in a French newspaper and they were condemning his invention of dynamite. Upon reading this obituary, he put to death his old life and started a new one, one in which he created the Nobel Peace Prize, an award given to those individuals or groups who "render the greatest service to the cause of international brother/sisterhood, in the suppression or reduction of standing armies, or in the establishment or furtherance of peace congresses." He killed off his former self. Once he found his meaning, suicide was the solution to the old self.

Jesus Christ's life was a suicide mission. In Biblical texts he spoke about sacrificing his own life so that others might live and know God. Gandhi chose not to live like the wealthy of his country; he sacrificed that part of himself and saw the true extent of poverty upon the human condition. Instead of being a lawyer, he gave voice to the oppressed in his country. He used peace as his weapon, destroying that part of himself that was filled with hate and revenge.

Sojourner Truth, a black woman, a freed slave, took no comfort in her freedom. She sacrificed that freedom to speak against slavery and the inequities of women.
These forms of suicide, I commend, not condemn. These are the suicides of meaning, of discovering purpose.

But the young man in the school was not asking about these suicides. Why do we condemn the suicide of the child who shoots himself in the head; the mother who lays down on the track awaiting the train; the girl who takes 52 pills of aspirin, then goes to sleep; the grandfather, ravaged with cancer, who requests to be assisted in dying. Why do we condemn these forms of suicides? Some people feel it is a coward's way out. Others feel it is an unpardonable sin. And still, others just feel it is wrong. For me it is grey. Why I wouldn't do it may not be an adequate enough response for others. I have found meaning in my life. I know my desire to help people, to heal. This brings meaning for me, but my meaning is my meaning. Do I feel more impressed with the individual who lives 80 years and dies miserable, lonely, and bitter, leaving a lifelong path of meanness and brutality, but dies by natural causes, than I do with the individual who lives only 30 years, lonely, bitter, and miserable and one day hangs himself? Do I really feel the 80 years were more significant? No. Not at all.

I think most of us live outside our destiny. Our job, therefore, is to find our destiny. I am saddened by those who give up too soon without ever trying to find this purpose. It may be a job; it may be a commitment; it may be family; it may be a cause; it may be a passion. But I have to believe it is there for all of us, the meaning. Many of us never find, yet we continue to go on without this discovery. Is this more noble? I don't know . . . and the chattering of the wind, doesn't say, but I just got to find out how this movie ends.