No Man Is An Island

Recently, the Tenth Avenue North song entitled “No Man Is An Island” has been ringing through my head on an endless loop. It probably doesn’t help that I am beginning an Old English unit in my AP class that features an excerpt from a poem by John Donne featuring the same key phrase. The work by Donne is called Devotions upon emergent occasions and several steps in my sickness - Meditation XVII (1624) and leads into the well-known part of the excerpt that includes the title of the song mentioned above by saying,

All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated...As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all: but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness....

The poem speaks to the idea that all men are connected and share the same fate—whether it be readily apparent or not. Our actions affect others and the results come washing back over us in ways unexpected. As the Tenth Avenue North lyrics state so eloquently: “Ain’t no life outside each other. We are not alone through trouble, rain or fire.”  Ultimately, the final connection mankind shares is death. Hebrews 9:27 (NASB) reveals this: “ . . .inasmuch as it is appointed for men to die once and after this comes judgment.”

Churches used to toll their bells in a way that people would instantly recognize as a death announcement. It seems to me that the poem is predicated on the idea that ultimately we will have to give an account for our actions before God—our creator (“All mankind is of one author”).  As Christians, we will be able to rest assured that Jesus has covered our sins; while I feel sure we will fall trembling at the revelation of His glory before us, we won’t suffer a second, eternal death destined for those who choose to reject Christ in life. Donne seemed to have his mind fixed on where sickness can lead, as we all should, for we never know death’s time of arrival—only God knows the number of our days, and those days are not limitless.  When we die, we aren’t just “a chapter torn from a book” and discarded—we are eternal beings currently dwelling in temporary bodies, which must be “translated.”  An awareness of who God created us to be causes us to be more aware of those around us as well as their needs . . .

So I hear the endless litany ringing through my mind that “No man is an island entire of itself” and “No man is an island, we can be found; no man is an island, let your guard down.” The allusion to Donne’s work by Tenth Avenue North is too clear to be missed. We must make sure of our calling and election (2 Peter 1:10), but we should also be willing to see ourselves as part of humanity and help bear one another’s burdens (Gal. 6:2).