Irish poet W. B. Yeats wanted to be buried “Under Ben Bulben,” a stately mountain after which he titled one of his last poems. The poem’s final line is etched onto his gravestone: Cast a cold eye/ On life, on death./ Horseman, pass by!
Much speculation has taken place over what this means. Perhaps it’s the poet’s acknowledgment of the reality of both life and death. Regardless, Yeats got his wish about where he was buried and what his gravestone would say. But the cold truth is that life goes on without us, indifferent to our departure.
During a dire time in Judah’s history, Shebna, a “palace administrator,” made a tomb for himself to insure his legacy after death. But God, through His prophet Isaiah, told Shebna, “Who gave you permission to cut out a grave for yourself here, hewing your grave on the height and chiseling your resting place in the rock?” (Isaiah 22:16). The prophet told him, “[God] will roll you up tightly like a ball and throw you into a large country. There you will die” (v. 18).
Shebna had missed the point. What matters isn’t where we’re buried; what matters in life is who we serve. Those who serve Jesus have this immeasurable comfort: “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord” (Revelation 14:13). We serve a God who’s never indifferent to our “departure.” He anticipates our arrival and welcomes us home.
