Death and All Its Trappings

In real life, death is an unattractive thing. Suicides are mercifully rare; very few people get to points in their life where oblivion seems like a more positive state than continuing in life. Even those who believe in some sort of afterlife don't go rushing into it. For most people, there is some unfinished business on earth that needs to be resolved. Who's ready for death?

So, if death is such a negative in real life, why would it be portrayed so positively in "Go Down Death (A Funeral Sermon)" by James Weldon Johnson? I mean, who wouldn't want to take home this cutie?

Denver Airport, the center of all things evil

This wonderful stallion is forever raring up outside Denver Airport. And if you think it's just the lighting...

Look at those veins!

This guy's pretty freaky all the time. Admittedly, he's not white, but a horse befitting death would more appropriately look like this than any one of these:

From The Princess Bride. "Hello, Lady!"

Do these horses look "Pale as a sheet in the moonlight" to you? Which of these would you be more likely to guess lacks blood running through its (very visible, I can assure you) veins?

So, perhaps Death's glorious steed isn't so beautiful as at first glance. But is not Death himself heroic? For one thing, God himself sent him to collect Sister Caroline (an interesting departure from normal Christian tales, in which Sister Caroline would've been straight away visited by Jesus -- how hard could it be for a deity that knows everybody and can be everywhere to meet one measly soul for its journey to heaven?). We can tell from his first direct appearance when he's in "that shadowy place, / Where Death waits with his pale, white horses." Nothing creepy about that...

You should probably know where this is from...

Or how about his mysterious loner side? You know, how "the hooves of his horses struck fire from the gold, / But they didn't make no sound"? Or how about how "Death didn't say a word" in response to God's command to go get Sister Caroline? Only really cool, suave guys, like Edward Cullen, teen heartthrob, would do something like that. He rides through a storm, as the poem says "On Death rode, / Leaving the lightning's flash behind." Nothing ominous about storms. He holds Sister Caroline "in his icy arms," as would be the nicest, most comforting thing to hold somebody with. The point is, this guy is not the next McSteamy. Young ladies will not swoon for his beauty. He isn't carrying Sister Caroline to heaven like some vaguely sinister Fabio.

However, all this isn't to say that Death is portrayed as a malevolent, incipient harbinger of doom. Everybody knew it was Sister Caroline's time to go. It the reason for God's command in the first place:

And his eye fell on Sister Caroline,
Tossing on her bed of pain.
And God's big heart was touched with pity,
With the everlasting pity.

But, not only that, he mentions her specific struggles, saying, "She's borne the burden and the heat of the day, / She's labored long in my vineyard." So, Death wasn't stealing her away before her time. And when he appears before Sister Caroline, she calls him Old Death, and the narrator says, "He looked to her like a welcome friend." He's taking her home.

So, who's ready for death? Well, Sister Caroline is, for one. In fact, today, several people probably lie on their deathbed, pleading for the pale, white horses to trod soundlessly their way. Death isn't just for those who are "too young" to die. And that's what this "sermon" is getting to. For all Death's apparent unpleasantness, Sister Caroline is ready for him. Now, everybody else needs to let her go.