When the girls were little enough to enjoy quality time on a swing-set, I used to push them and sing children’s songs.  Their favorite (and mine) was There was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly, which is great because it is silly, morbid, and gross – the perfect children’s song.  Also, when I would get to the part about the spider that “wiggled, and jiggled, and tickled inside her,” I would tickle them, which raised the swing-set experience to the level of an amusement park ride.  Over time, the phrase “Perhaps she’ll die” which ends all but the last of the song’s eight verses got a little dull, and I started to improvise other phrases for death: “perhaps she’ll kick the bucket,” “perhaps she’ll meet her maker,” perhaps she’ll buy the big one,” perhaps she’ll croak,” perhaps she’ll meet her demise,” “perhaps she’ll loose function of her vital organs,” “perhaps she’ll slip on a banana peel and fall into the eternal abyss of death,” etc…

Back in the day I would have been helped if I had known about the curious collection of my dear friend, Gene Miller, preacher of the Steer Creek Church of Christ. For years he has been poking through death notices and obituaries, collecting euphemisms for death.  He sent me a three page list the other day which makes my thesaural efforts look feeble.  It seems folks are at their most creative when they are trying to avoid saying, flat out, that someone died. Gene’s list is arranged alphabetically, which is convenient because, right off, one sees that most of these euphemisms are drawn from travel. The deceased “entered,” “left,” “went,” and “passed.” Some of my favorites are:

She completed her walk to heaven after trying to recover from a broken leg,

Left this world peacefully to meet his Savior, Jesus Christ, on the banks of that far river,

Passed beyond the green land of knowledge and the still waters of peace that transcends the knowledge of all mankind (??????),

Transitioned peacefully into the Spirit realm (was this a Christian obituary?),

Is surrounded by his family, and his great-grand dog, Izzy,

And,

Rode his Harley to Heaven.

In the Old Testament people died. And all the years of Abraham’s life that he lived were one hundred and seventy five.  And Abraham breathed his last and died at a ripe old age, an old man and satisfied with life; and he was gathered to his people (Genesis 25.7-8). The beautiful, direct simplicity of this can not be improved upon by adding any high-flown references to “far rivers,” or personal mention of anyone’s “great-grand dog.”

In the New Testament, however, people (at least God’s people) don’t die.  They are carried by the angels to the bosom of Abraham (Luke 16.22), are poured out like a drink offering (II Timothy 4.6), and lay aside their earthly dwelling(II Peter 1.14).  Mostly they fall asleep.

Behold, I tell you a mystery, we shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed. I Corinthians 15.52

But we do not want you to be uninformed, brethren, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve, as do the rest who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus. I Thessalonians 4.13-14.

Because of Jesus, the finality of a word like “dead” is not precise when applied to Christians.  It is the perfect word to describe our relationship to our past life of sin (Romans 6.11, Ephesians 2.1).  When the word “dead” is used (I Thessalonians 4.16, Revelation 14.13) to described God’s people, it is to emphasize our defiance of death.

In Jesus we have new life, eternal life.  We may cease to be here, but we do not cease to be. And we do not cease to be with Him.  We need no euphemism for that.