So far this week I’ve been mostly thinking about death – including that of my own.
Now you may be imagining, not unreasonably, that this is due to my ever advancing years, but in reality it’s more down to the fact that, as well as having recently attended a funeral, I’ve been asked to talk on the subject of dying at an upcoming seminar and have therefore been thinking about what I might say.
My preparation will no doubt be helped by the numerous near death experiences that I’ve had over the years – and I’m not referring here to the time when, in an attempt to be complimentary, I described a former colleague’s hair as ‘frizzy’ – or that occasion when I mistakenly bought some ‘reduced sugar’ Thai chili source and discovered that hell hath no fury than a woman deprived of a suitably sweet, fish cake accompaniment!
No, I’m referring to real near death experiences.
Firstly there have been the three brushes with death that brought me closer to the grim reaper than is generally considered comfortable – let’s just say that my personal space was definitely invaded. The first of these was when, as a young lad, I neglected to take appropriate heed of the strategically placed flags that indicated safe swimming areas at Perranporth beach and, as a result, subsequently needed to be rescued by the RNLI. The second was when, equally foolishly, I cycled into the back of a parked lorry on the way home from school and so was forced to spend two weeks in Musgrove Park Hospital in Taunton. And the third, more recent occasion, saw me detained at my cardiologists’ pleasure in that selfsame hospital with a touch of bacterial endocarditis.
Given then that I’m averaging a dice with death approximately every 20 years, and that life expectancy for a chap such as myself is around about the 80 mark, it would seem that, despite the reassuringly resilient genes that my long lived parents have been kind enough to furnish me with, my next dalliance with the scythe wielding hoodie wearer might well be my last!
And additionally, of course, there has been the far more valuable near death experience that has been mine as a result of my work which once involved caring for those who were drawing near to the end of their lives.
But what has all this experience taught me?
Well firstly, that death is unavoidable and the old adage that ‘nobody gets out of this life alive’ is as true as it is darkly comic. And so there comes a point when, as well as clinging onto life no longer being wise, misleading others, by suggesting that medication or changes to their lifestyle will somehow prolong their life actually becomes unkind. Because no nonagenarian should be led to believe that a statin will make them immortal, and nor should they be made to feel they risk an early demise if, having been found to be pre-diabetic, they insist on indulging in an occasional custard cream.
But the fact that death can’t be delayed indefinitely doesn’t mean to say that we should therefore hasten the day of its coming – and most certainly not because life is simply no longer all we want it to be. Irrespective of the drive to perfectionism that is a feature of so many of our lives these days, an individual’s life doesn’t cease to have value the moment it becomes less than it once was or, heaven forbid, the second it begins to impinge a little on the lives of others.
Because whilst dying is sometimes associated with unpleasant symptoms, with the good palliative care that is now widely available, I have learnt that these can generally be adequately managed.
Which is why I find it concerning that, after centuries in which dying was frequently distressing but there were no associated call for active euthanasia, it is only today, when symptom control for such folk is so much better, that repeated calls are made for the legalizing of assisted suicide. Because it therefore seems to me, that such requests have less to do with an understandable desire to offer the ultimate palliation of symptoms, and rather more to do with a pandering to our ever expanding sense of self and our belief that we should, at all costs, be the masters of our own fate.
But just as our hearts are not the infallible arbiters of right and wrong, neither should they be made sovereign over the timing of our death. For there is, I believe, a higher authority over such matters, one whose judgment is infinitely more sound.
Inevitably there will be those who see this as an unwelcome restriction of our freedom – but if, instead, it is seen as a placing of ourselves in the hands of a benevolent God, one who really does love us, and is both wise enough and powerful enough to do what is best, far from being restrictive, it will serve to free us from our constant need to be in control and allow us to contentedly permit another to lead the way.
Which is not to encourage a passive fatalism. For as somebody who wholeheartedly believes that the date of my death is already known, more than that, has been set by the one who has previously numbered all my days, I still look both ways when I cross the road. Because, God’s sovereignty and human responsibility coexist – a mysterious paradox that lies far beyond that which our finite minds can fully understand.
I have also learnt that it’s good to talk. Not just about the present but about the past, and that amidst the inevitable sadness of death there is often much to smile about as memories and feelings are shared. And it’s good to talk about the future too – about the wishes, and fears, of the one who is dying and indeed, those who love them.
And then there is the issue of what comes next. Some seem to have settled that question in their own mind and there are those who, with or without faith, face the arrival of their final days with calm equanimity. For some though this isn’t the case.
Now dying would, of course, be a whole lot easier if death were not the end, if there were something better on the other side of the great divide. And what one feels on the matter isn’t just of philosophical interest – rather it has practical implications. For if, after we die, there is nothing other than our nonexistence, then any existential anxiety might best be dealt with by an injection of midazolam. But if there is a hope of heaven, then, whilst an anxiolytic may still be helpful, some reassurance that all is not yet lost may have even greater value.
But is there life after death? And if there is, how can be sure.
All sorts of people believe all sorts of things about what happens after we die – but which of them really knows for sure?
Of course, what would really help us here would be to have somebody whose near death experience was far more intimate than my own has been – somebody who had not only suffered death, but survived the experience and come back to life again, somebody who was, as a consequence, an authority on the subject who could tell us, therefore, the definitive truth.
Christians, of course, believe that there is such a one – and that his name is Jesus. And unlike much of what is believed about life after death, their faith, is based, not on so much wishful thinking, but rather on the fact that Jesus’ resurrection is something that is verifiably true, attested as it is by the compelling evidence, accepted by both Christian and non-Christian historians alike, for the historicity of his empty tomb, the convincing eye witnesses testimony of those who saw Jesus after he rose from the dead, and the authoritative word of God contained in the Old Testament scriptures which provide detailed predictions of what took place hundreds of years prior to the event actually taking place.
Furthermore it all makes such perfect sense. For if, as the Bible tells us, death has come about only as a consequence of our sinfulness, [Romans 6:23], then it only stands to reason that, with our sin now dealt with, death has not only lost its sting but has been swallowed up in the victory that was won for us on the cross at Calvary. [1 Corinthians 15:54-55].
So then, having understood what was achieved for us on that green hill far away, and recognising that Jesus is the only one with the necessary experience to speak authoritatively on the subject, the door is wide open for us to be comforted by the things that he tells us about life after death.
And oh what wonderful things he says!
Firstly, then, Jesus tells us that death is not the end. On the contrary he assures us that ‘whoever believes in [him], though he die, yet shall he live’ [John 11:25]. Furthermore, our death will not be some random occurrence, but rather it will be something that has been planned for, preparations having been previously made for our arrival in our Father’s house. And, perhaps most beautiful of all, when we do die, irrespective of whether we are on our own or surrounded by those we love, we will none of us be by ourselves. Because, when our time does inevitably arrive, Jesus will come to us, and take us that very day, to be with him in paradise [John 14:3, Luke 23:43]
Not only, therefore, will we then be taken into the presence of God to experience both ‘fullness of joy’ and ‘pleasures for evermore’, [Psalm 16:11], we will not even have to travel there alone, accompanied as we will be by the one who really is ‘the way, the truth and the life’ [John 14:6].
And so we will experience what we who believe, already know – and what the apostle Paul knew before us – ‘that to live is Christ, and to die is gain’ [Philippians 1:21]
Of course, some will say that this is all just ‘Pie in the sky when you die’ – but I don’t think so. Because I believe it to be both the sure and certain hope of those who ‘rely, not on themselves but on the God who raises the dead’ [2 Corinthians 1:9]…
…and the greatest near death experience of all.
Related posts:
To read ‘Three Times a Patient’, which includes a little more detail on two of my three near death experiences, click here
To read ‘On death – my first and last’, click here
To read ‘Professor Ian Aird – a time to die’, click here
To read a review of Dr Lucy Pollock’s first book. ‘The Book About Getting Older’ click here,
To read a review of Dr Lucy Pollock’s second book, ‘The Golden Rule’, click here
To read ‘On approaching one’s sell by date’, click here
To read ‘Bleak Practice’, a fictionalised version of ‘On approaching one’s sell by date’, click here
To read ‘At Halloween – O death where is thy sting’, click here
To read ‘Monsters’, click here
To read ‘Assisted Dying – we all need to be happier to help’, click here
To read ‘Health – it’ll be the death of us. Institutional arrogance in the Health Service’ click here
To read ‘What becomes of the broken hearted? Sorrowful yet always rejoicing on Palm Sunday’, click here
To read ‘Why do bad things happen to good people? Sorrowful yet always rejoicing on Good Friday’, click here
To read ‘Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things? Rejoicing, though temporarily sorrowful, on Easter Day’, click here.
To read “Hope comes from believing the promises of God”, click here
To read ‘All’s Well That End’s Well’, click here
To read ‘T.S. Eliot, Jesus and the Paradox of the Christian Life’, click here
To read “Luther and the global pandemic – on becoming a theologian of the cross”, click here
To read “Suffering- A Personal View”, click here.
To read ‘Looking back to move confidently forward’, click here
To read ‘The Resurrection – is it just rhubarb?’, click here
To read ‘Faith and Doubt’, click here
Some musings 