All the world's a stage

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.
...
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
- William Shakespeare

Went for 7.30PM P&P on Sunday despite knowing that the sermon wasn't going to be on spiritual gifts. It was good time spent alone, I guess the Sanctuary would have provided a more reflective physical environment, but the hall did fine. And I do wonder with the sermon 'What's your script?' that how about those who 'overscript', in the sense, over consider their steps.

But anyway the question after reading this piece of poetry with the so often quoted first 2 lines, is this:

Who's the Director? Who's the Audience?

And the ending doesn't seem to be magnificient in grandeur at all. Sans all our physical vestiges, into oblivion we go. Is life just that at the end, or is there more?