Death’s Lesson

Death’s Lesson O nce, I attended the burial service of a man. The man’s body was washed, and he was wrapped up in a new sheet. People said the prayers that are recited on such occasions, and then, lifting the corpse on their shoulders, they headed to an empty grave. They lowered the body, with great respect, into the space and covered it up. As this was happening, I thought, “Why has Islam ordained such honourable treatment for a dead body?” It is a fact that after death, a human body is nothing more than mud. But unlike other mud, it is not thrown about here and there. Instead, it is treated like a human being. Treating ‘mud’ as one would treat a human being is a commandment directed not at the dead body. Rather, its significance is for those who are still alive. Through a dead person an important lesson is conveyed to living people—that they, too, will meet the very same fate one day. In this way, the living can see themselves in the form of the dead. They can experience death before death arrives. A man who was a living being like any of us is now dead. Just the other day, he was walking, talking, seeing, and so on, but now he lies perfectly still. The value he commanded in people’s eyes has suddenly been