gods are said to live lives of fabulous luxury, reveling in every conceivable
pleasure, without a thought for the spiritual dimension of life. All seems to go
well until death draws near, and unexpected signs of decay appear. Then the
gods’ wives and lovers no longer dare approach them, but throw flowers to
them from a distance, with casual prayers that they be reborn again as gods.
None of their memories of happiness or comfort can shelter them now from the
suffering they face; they only make it more savage. So the dying gods are left
to die alone in misery.
fate of the gods reminds me of the way the elderly, the sick, and the dying are
treated today. Our society is obsessed with youth, sex, and power, and we shun
old age and decay. Isn’t it terrifying that we discard old people when
their working life is finished and they are no longer useful? Isn’t it
disturbing that we cast them into old people’s homes, where they die
lonely and abandoned?