Death comes for us all. “Yes, even for kings he comes,” as Sir Thomas More made a point of reminding Master Cromwell, who devilishly sought his death on a charge of high treason, of which crime More was entirely innocent. And succeeded, too. “I die the King’s good servant,” More announced moments before the ax fell, “but God’s first.”
And so we all owe God a death, including the lucky few who seem not to owe anyone anything. A not unreasonable exchange, you might say, for the gift of a life we never had ownership of in the first place. All being is borrowed, as it were, on loan from a God who has completely cornered the market. Which means that it is not only our death we owe God—a debt which takes but an instant to discharge—but our life as well, which typically takes a bit longer to run its course.
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