About
closure
(philosophy)
It is that time again: The end of a school year, the end of a
business cycle, or the end of the day. Everything, at some point ends.
But the world has changed. It has become more complex, and with
that complexity our concept of time has changed. Rarely does one event end
before another begins. Rarely then, is closure experienced.
Some people seem to embrace this openendness, they thrive in
the post-modern universe where nothing really ends or begins, but merely
changes forms and conditions. This, they state is the new dynamic. Absolute
certainty is impossible, and further, not even desired. In this paradigm
religion is viewed as an anachronism—a homage to an earlier, simpler time.
Science, with its inherent contradictions becomes the new source of knowledge.
Yet things still end. The school year comes to a close. For
those who have reached the high end of school, a graduation ceremony announces
to all that they have succeeded--that they can close that phase of their life. Likewise,
those participating in sports recognize that there is a definite season for
them to compete. If they are successful, they will be the last one standing at
the end of that season—they would then have found closure, at least until the
sport begins again.
However these events are not really the end. Even if one has earned a
doctorate, they can continue on with additional studies. Similarly, even if one
wins the Super Bowl or the Stanley Cup, and becomes regarded as the champion,
there is always the following sport season looming ahead. The cycle continues.
Life time learners and life time athletes resist closure. But for others, those
on a more ordinary path, things do tend to have an ending. They find, at least
temporarily closure.
Yet there is one final closure that awaits everyone—death.
With it there is no “next season”. Like a graduation ceremony, a funeral gives
notice that one has succeeded in finding closure. Both observances announce to
all that a life stage has ended.
Thus, despite the relativistic conclusion that nothing is
final, all things come to an end. Science, with its open-ended approach has met
that thing from which nothing goes beyond. Death, like a brick wall sealing off
an escape tunnel, tells us that we can go no farther—at least in this mode.
There is a geography concerning closure, as it exists within
a specific time and place. Graduation ceremonies occur at a predetermined times.
The Super Bowl is played at the beginning of February, and the Stanley Cup
makes it appearance in early June.
It is basically the
same with death. It occurs at a specific time and place—although usually the
precise moment remains unknowable. That becomes problematic. Because death
appears at random, and is so final, it brings out an anxiety that other events
simply can’t.
Death brings about closure. There is no escaping it.
Usually a ceremony accompanies closure. The graduate wants to
celebrate, reflect and fellowship with family and friends. Inversely, friends
and family of the deceased desire a
ceremony so that they can celebrate,
reflect and support each other through fellowship. These ceremonies provide
meaning. So, on the same day that
students march across a stage dressed in academic regalia to receive a diploma,
pallbearers dressed in formal attire, march a deceased person into a chapel to
receive a final blessing.
Closure puts things into context, it brings forth meaning.
The response to closure does not appear to be based within science, but rather
within religion. With these ultimate
experiences of life, meaning is sought. Here is the place at which religion can
interconnect with those who are seeking. For it is through religious belief
that the brick wall of death is overcome. Faith in God then becomes the antidote
for the anxiety caused by both
open-endedness and closure.
