It appears that death was much more a part of life in medieval times than it is for us at the moment in many parts of the world, and this for many obvious reasons such as medical advances and other desirable cultural improvements in such fields as law, culture and civilisation generally. Nevertheless, there may have been some advantages to being more familiar with death - for example, a common theme in medieval religious art was that of the "three corpses" - here is a modern description of part of a page from a medieval...more

The recent thread about death and religion at http://www.philosophyoffreedom.com/node/3139 has prompted the following thoughts for me.  Matt says there:

I would say one of the scariest things on earth is the unknown because if you think about it, you have no idea what will happen which renders you totally out of control, and people like to be in control. Death is the biggest unknown there is, I don't care what you believe but you do not know 100% what will happen when you die. It is fundamentally impossible to know for absolute what will happen, no matter what someone tells you or how much you believe them there is always that chance they are lying or are miss-guided into believing something happened that never actually took place.

It appears that death was much more a part of life in medieval times than it is for us at the moment in many parts of the world, and this for many obvious reasons such as medical advances and other desirable cultural improvements in such fields as law, culture and civilisation generally.

Nevertheless, there may have been some advantages to being more familiar with death - for example, a common theme in medieval religious art was that of the "three corpses" - here is a modern description of part of a page from a medieval illuminated manuscript:

The bas-de-page represents the dit des trois morts et des trois vifs (the story of the three dead and the three living), an edifying thirteenth-century legend that provided material for several narratives and also inspired artists, especially in the fifteenth century.
Three young horsemen of noble birth see in a cemetery three corpses who address them. "I was Pope," says one; "I was a cardinal," says the second; "I was an apostolic notary," says the third. And they add, "You will be like us: power, honor, riches are naught."
The three terrified horsemen gallop away, but upon seeing a cross they realize they have received a warning from heaven.

The question I would like to pose is, is it necessary, even healthy, to have a consciousness of death, to meditate on death, even on the possibility of one's own bodily death at some time in the future?  After all, it will happen to all of us one day, that I am fairly certain of!

And perhaps a more intimate familiarity with death could lead us to the possibility of Goethe's "die and become" - we could realise that at every moment "it is fundamentally impossible to know for absolute what will happen" as Matt has rightly said, but not only after death but every moment we live.