It is a funny thing about our use of language that it is considered polite to substitute one word for another when the most specific word might conjure up something a little too indelicate for the context of the conversation. Some words get to change meanings altogether that way. For example, the first time I heard an American asking to use the bathroom it really puzzled me that they wanted to go there, to the room that contained the bath or shower. Oh, it was the… er, you know… that was required. So why not say since that was in a different little room of its own? But trust an Australian to clear the matter up. My son, well used to polite Americanisms, discretely asked the waiter in an Aussie restaurant where the bathroom was, and received the answer in a nice loud voice “Oh, you mean the dunny, mate? It’s over there.” Yep, that sure was calling a spade, a spade.

Of course euphemisms have their place, like the lubricant that reduces the heat and wear of friction when two objects rub together, the reality and its representative in speech must slide against each other smoothly in the niceties of polite society. But one that I personally dislike is the saying used to refer to death - passed, passed away, passed on, passing. Is death so indelicate that we must misuse another word to mean someone has died and is now dead? It would seem so. It is used out of respect and sensitivity for the feelings of the bereaved of course, and I have no problem with respect and sensitivity for others where that is appropriate. But how long before those words will themselves become too indelicate and require another to take their place as well? Over time we will probably euphemize ourselves in lingusitic circles, for what it matters.

However, I don’t care that much if people choose to talk that way. Instead, something else I hear said next has peaked my interest more. It has become very commonplace these days to say of someone who has just… er, passed… that now “she will be at peace” and “he has gone to a better place” and other kindly cultural notions of whatever might be hereafter assuming such a thing or place exists. Well, I would certainly like to hope that is so, but as a Christian I cannot always agree with sentiments such as those. For folk who had no time for Christ, who did not accept God’s gift of grace so have a saving faith in Him, then I would tell a lie against my Christian faith to agree to such sentiments as those. But neither would I be so cruel as to say as much right then to the ones who are left behind and hurting. Turning the focus back on the bereaved instead, commenting compassionately on their experience of the loss, is one way to avoid compromising the truth of one’s Christian faith. After all, it is for God to make the judgement, and no other.