Column by Michael Meade

I heard the reaction before I heard the news.

"I can't believe it." "How could it have happened?!." "I just saw him on TV last night."

Sir Peter Blake, yachtsman, America's Cup winner, New Zealand's Spirit of Adventure had been murdered. Tuned into RadioSport, I'd been expecting the snappy, risque patter of Martin Devlin. Instead the airwaves were full of callers in shock. I felt like the late arrival at an accident scene, standing still while those around me cried and rushed about. Then I saw the flag. Perched on top of Parliament Buildings it stood at half mast. It was real. It was here.

He might have died half a world away, and he was a famous public figure removed from ordinary life but at that moment the loss of Sir Peter Blake felt like the loss of a family member. His death was a reminder that even the greatest of us is not immortal. The services to mark his passing, at Auckland and in England, were a mix of the sacred and the secular. All of us trying to come to terms with what happened, through prayer, popular song and heartfelt memory.

It made me wonder about the traditional comforts that we as Christians have traditionally given to people when someone dies: the belief in an afterlife; the reward of 'paradise'. It seemed more important to me then and now, to share what has remained with us, Blake's mission, his family, than focus on where Sir Peter had 'gone'.

The Christian community is a crew that sails with you into uncharted waters to face whatever is there. 'When the coast is left and we journey on, to the rim of the sky and the sea, be the sailor's friend, be the dolphin Christ; lead us on to eternity.' Colin Gibson's hymn takes courage to sing. It says to me that when we reach the end of our understanding, we don't reach the end of meaning. Death is not the end.
The recent passing of a woman at my local church showed me how death can bring people closer. My wife and I both remembered how kind Doris was, how much we liked her. It was a moment of clarity and the concerns and worries of other things left us. We realised how important it is to cherish those you love.

Like former New York Mayor, Rudolph Giuliani, whose life and political attitudes changed forever on September 11, death "...put everything in its place: the bickering, the pettiness. I'm not less ambitious; I just want to do the right thing. It's difficult to face death: your own, someone close to you or thousands of people's deaths. You either shrivel up or you go on."

The Spirit of Adventure did not die with the death of Sir Peter Blake. It breathed life into us and sent 'us out upon our way.'