Death and Dying in a Christian World

by Warren Nelson
The last time
In December, on the way home from a wonderful trip to the Florida Keys, my wife of 42 years made a comment that detonated in my brain. As we lifted off from the runway in Ft. Lauderdale, she said, “Well, I guess that’s probably the last time we’ll see the Florida Keys!”
It was an off-handed remark, just a comment on the fact that we have a lot of other places we want to visit but, having just celebrated my 64th birthday, I realized that the Florida Keys are very likely one of a very many experiences I will never, ever have again.
And, this little existential exploration began.
Dealing with death
Having experienced a year’s worth of loss that included my both parents, two aunts and my wife’s uncle, I’ve gotten to experience, first hand, Christians dealing with death from the outside looking in. Some of it has been inspiring, most has been a “Huh?” experience and a few have been of “What are you thinking?” variety.
The list of cliches and comments that don’t work is nearly endless and documented elsewhere, but probably most evident, is “Don’t be sad, they’re in a better place,” in some form.
And, as anybody who is suffering a fresh loss knows, it is the furthest thing from comfort one could get.
Also at the top of heap are “prayers for healing,” a fraught topic if there ever was one and worth its own article.
And the list could go on.
Christians deal with death in many way, some helpful to everyone, some helpful to themselves as they face loss, and some in ways that are, at best, useless and, at worst, damaging.
Adventists aren’t the only Christians who have challenges with dealing with immediate consequences of loss. Many times our trust in the “healing power of God” leaves us completely unprepared when the event occurs. Prayers for safety in travel are are sometimes, apparently, answered by God with a resounding “No!” And, finally, attempts at comfort are clumsy, at best, and our fear of our own mortally create a distance between us and the poor soul experiencing the loss of loved one.
Finding meaning in loss
Recently I came across the following story from two different sources. Both present the story in powerful but different ways.
This is not, unfortunately, a unique event, the loss of very young child to a horrible disease.
This Christian father’s approach, creating a video game about his child dying, is by turns it is puzzling, heart-wrenching, funny and ultimately, an amazing story of an unresolved search for meaning in death.
It is not easy to read or listen to. But both versions deal with death in an open, honest way that is rarely found in Christian literature. Here are two links to the story. One is an article in “Wired” magazine. The other is an episode from a podcast titled “Reply All.”
That Dragon Cancer: Playing for Time
This article from January 2016 issue of Wired magazine shares the story of an infant with a brain tumor. It’s an astonish attempt by the father to use his computer game writing skills to make sense of this tragedy.
“If I look at the game objectively,” Amy says, “of course it’s all just to make his life matter. You wanted his life to matter so much, and he died young, and in a lot of ways his life will only matter if we make it matter.” (This clip is trailer for the video game Kickstarter campaign)
The Cathedral
The January 7, 2016 episode of Reply All, a Gimlet Media podcast, tells the story from slightly different perspective. It includes audio from the final prayer service for Joel. He died later that night. In this excerpt from the podcast, Joel’s parents, Ryan and Amy, lay out the fundamental problem;
INTERVIEWER: What’s your strongest memory from that night?
RYAN: I think it’s just realizing that he was going to die that day. And that, I don’t know, it’s that space of being with a bunch of people that desperately want the same thing that you want, and are crying out for that grace and that mercy to kind of invade a situation.
INTERVIEWER: Joel died later that night. It was March 13, 2014. And even though he had been terminal for more than three years, Amy said that at that moment, she was completely unprepared.
AMY: I feel like in a way because we were believing that he would be healed and because we were believing that even if he died maybe he would be raised from the dead, don’t need to put that in your story because it’s weird, and I so get that it’s weird, but because we still believed that he could live, I feel like we didn’t go through all the processes of getting ready for him to die the way that maybe you would if you were certain that this was it.
What to do?
In my experience there are no easy answers. Comfort in loss means something different in every situation. We all grieve differently. This means there are many right ways to comfort those in mourning and also many wrong ways.
Maybe we can start by tossing out our pat answers. . . it’s kind of up to you.
About Commenting
The goal of writing these short essays to highlight the world I live in and to stimulate conversation and not, necessarily, to find answers or solutions. Hopefully, in these comments, we can share what worked in coming to terms with the loses we all have faced.
Adventist Today has a history of largely unmoderated comments. It provides a much needed “open” space for Adventists of all stripes to discuss the content provided here without “oversight.” (See our Comments Policy here.)
Private Feedback
However, many folks are not suited to the “wild, wild West” that is our Comments section. They may not enjoy arguing for the sake of arguing or debating proof texts, however entertaining this maybe. So we are beginning an experiment with a new tool that will hopefully allow those who would like to comment directly to the author without the to and fro of the Comments section to do so.
Simply click this link and you’ll be taken to a short survey form where you can leave a note to the author. Unless you give us specific permission to share it, it will remain private. If you request a reply from the author, we’ll do our best to respond, but please understand that we all live with significant time restraints.
One occasion, we may update a post with excerpts from these notes. We won’t do this without your express permission (you check the box) and they will always be anonymous even if you check the box.
We look forward to hearing from you in either venue!
Warren “Butch” Nelson is a congenitally-curious, nap-loving, ultra-running, gadget-freak, people-loving husband, dad and grandpa. He writes from Washington state.
Excellent ideas and very practical and real help for all of us. As Adventists we need to make it a priority to demonstrate our love for the person who is dying. Most of all we need to be who we are. Be honest. Be authentic. Be you. It’s okay to let them see your fear and distress, but don’t let that overshadow your love. Express your gratitude to them for the ways they enriched your life, share happy memories and yes, do say goodbye — but do it tenderly. Don’t be afraid to touch the dying. Nothing communicates our love more than holding hands and stroking our loved one’s hair.
Tailor your efforts according to the time available. Respect the fact that time can be very short from hearing the prognosis to the actual time of death. One of my personal pet peeves is when people are inconvenienced by the news, as though their loved one should have checked on their availability rather than having the audacity to sound the red alert at an inopportune moment. When your mother has a 50/50 chance of making it through the night, you don’t show up four days later!
Another reminder for all of us is to respect the authority of the dying to make his or her own decisions.
The person who is dying is the boss. If they are conscious enough to be making their own decisions — don’t bully them into doing things your way. Just as sure as you are that your way is right for you, know that their way is right for them no matter how different it is from your own. If someone holding a healthcare proxy is in charge, his or her authority is to be equally respected. Ideally, each of us gets our ducks in a row before our dying time. In reality, most do not. As a result, a lot of financial, legal, physical, mental, emotional and spiritual life-or-death decisions get made in a hurry, at the last minute. This can cause a lot of chaos, confusion, conflict and mixed up emotions among family and loved ones. Do your best to quickly align yourself with the wishes of the dying. It is their death, not yours.
We also need to accept that he or she is dying. Don’t fight against it. It’s fine to hope that things will turn around and death will be postponed. However, if death is what is happening, it helps enormously to accept that fact. We are taught to fight against death like it is an evil monster. In fact, death is as normal as birth — we just haven’t been trained to see it that way. I find it sad when doctors and loved ones subject the dying to endless invasive drugs, tests and procedures when it is obvious that it is time to die. I am an enthusiastic supporter of hospice care for the dying.
Each of us is born one moment of one day, we die one moment of another day and have an unknown number of days to live in between. Make the most of the time you and your loved one have left together. Fill it with tenderness and be of loving service to their wishes and needs. Give them a good send off.
We are of an age, Butch and I. As he has lost many of his family, the same thing has happened to me. Suddenly, I am the patriarch of the family, and therefore, perhaps the next to pass. I am not happy about this. His wife’s comment about the last time seeing the Florida Keys brought my immediate response: “But I’ve never even SEEN the Florida Keys.” There is so much left to experience. And those we’ve lost will not be part of that. My cousin died while I was on a study tour to England one summer. I came home, and he was not there. I know he’s gone, but I keep looking for him nonetheless. Grandparents, parents, contemporaries are all missing now that I’m in my 60’s. It’s not going to get better. I confess, with death and dying, I take the day to day view. I don’t ask myself where we’ll all be ten years from now. I ask myself if I have loved that person today, and I take the next step. That’s all I’ve got.
Thanks, Kenneth.
I completely agree, Ken.
I learned a long time ago that being afraid of dying was rather colossal waste of time. And when I quit worrying about whether or not I was “ready” for an afterlife (more on that another time), life got really simple.
Treat others the way you want to be treated and help those who can’t help themselves to the best of your ability and leave the planet better than when you got here. . . very easy to remember, even in my dotage!
Of all people, Christians should have no fear of death. Their entire religion was built on Christ’s Resurrection, assurances that they, too, will have eternal life. As someone said: “I don’t fear death; I only fear dying.” And there’s the rub: we do not get to choose our time or means of death. Christ never promised eternal life on this earth, and if it were, it would be a terrible curse: To live forever with more infirmities and never have death as relief. The biblical three score and ten has been extended, but not forever. Live every moment to the best advantage by loving others, and enjoying life.
Just so Elaine, well put.
O’ death, where is thy sting, O’ grave, where is thy victory?? Having lived 9 decades, i have
completed my bucket tour. i have experienced many enjoyable times with family and friends, and tasted of Earth’s delights. In 1936 i stood within 5 feet of Franklin Delano Roosevelt.
i have been to many of the world’s beautiful and desirable places, and a few of its undesirable ones. i have have witnessed death, and seen many of its worst, sad, and godless killing grounds. i have witnessed the origin of the old Model T Fords, the first passenger commercial airplane transport, the first usage of antibiotics, such as Penicillin, the Salk vaccine to combat Polio, heart transplants, and all the rest of medical tech which we have today. In my earlier years many died from common infections, many died from appendicitis. unheard of today. And only in the past 25 years, Scientific tech and dramatic breakthroughs
in all areas of scientific and general knowledge has advanced to where my head spins, to be able to gather it all in. Due to the discovery of Computerization, its language, coding, and speed, knowledge is doubling every 18 months. Fasten your seat belts, you ain’t seen nuttin
yet. Robotics and cloning are scary things you young people must take a stand on. Also the
world drifting into Socialism, with a ONE WORLD ORDER, making slaves of most, is most scary, as the youth are drifting that way. Socialism degenerates into Communism, and the elite rules. Study Russia since 1917. Best wishes to all.
Dealing with death is not easy. After all, it is the ultimate contradiction to the way “everything is supposed to be.” It can shake us to the roots of our faith, or it can drive us to God for the hope in His promises.
We buried my father-in-law on Father’s Day so the sting of death is fresh in our house. He was 90 and in a nursing home so his death was not unexpected. The only real question was when he would die. Since he was the last of our parents we felt like we’d worked through a lot of our grief ahead of time. Still, the news of his death came as the rudest of slaps in the face. At the cemetery I mused to friends about how I was raised to respect my elders but it was harder to find any of them because so many of their names were on the headstones around us.
My father-in-law was a conundrum because he professed no faith in God and the only time I ever saw him in a church was for a wedding or a funeral, yet he was more loving than a great many professed Christians. He personified to me what Paul spoke of in Romans 1 about those who do not know God yet obey that law by nature. I puzzled for many years about how to bring him into a relationship with God. Finally, I had to surrender him to God and quit trying. That’s when others took-over. People like our son and the chaplain. On my last visit with him, I thanked him for all the things he had done to help us over the years and told him that I believed he was loving as God loved. He said nothing but I could tell he was thinking about it. The chaplain told us that he made a profession of faith two days before he died. So my faith in God allows me to trust that he received the same promise of salvation as I have, so I expect to see him on the Resurrection Morning.
Ultimately, I see how we deal with death is a measure of our faith in God. If we trust God with the smaller things of life, are we willing to trust Him to handle the bigger things like life and death and to comfort us in our sorrows.
Death is not a great mystery to me, life is.
That you and I are here is an even greater wonder than that we will die.
How wonderful that every time we are sick, we have gotten well. Every bone we have broken has knit, every cold we suffered didn’t turn into pneumonia, every stab wound or scalpel invasion has healed.
And always will.
Except once.
No one is permitted more than one final illness. Every other illness shall be cured.
You and your lovable, kindly, helpful existence is the mystery. Healing is the daily miracle. Breathing is the wonder.
So I refuse to worship at the altar of death, I praise and wonder and worship the giver of Life. And my fear of death is diminished by my joy of life. So when you die I will weep, and when I die I hope to have left you good memories. That there was a miracle called Butch is the wonder.
And since I am no more capable of creating life that I am of solving death, both remain in the care of the creator of DNA, Carbon, Uranium, Oxygen, and sucrose. Those hands have camped with us, and told us that death is an aberration, to be handled by the same power that handed us unbidden our lives.
Who am I to question that? I didn’t bring myself here, I cannot bring myself back. But Someone somehow did. That alone is reason enough to look forward to what comes next. Not without a bit of keen anticipation and the usual slight anxiety about travel to a place I’ve never been before.
Ah, Jack, you made my day! 🙂
I go to a nearby Starbucks very early every morning and all the new baristas ask me how my day is going.
My stock reply is “Wonderful! I woke up!”
Some get it, some don’t. But clearly you do.
Testimony sure is more powerful than theology.
Let’s turn Jack’s reply into a track.
Seriously.
The first line is the headline.
Add a signature line:
Jack Hoehn, MD,
Seventh-day Adventist
That’s it.
Who might be interested?
–Retirees
–Whole Food Shoppers
–24 Hour Fitness members
–Chaplains
–Military members
–First time parents
–Cancer infested families
–Seventh-day Adventist ministers
–General Conference of Seventh-day Adventist officers
—
Let’s just say this list won’t fit in 1,500 characters!
You’d better check and make sure Jack didn’t plagiarize Norman Vincent Peale before you publish and distribute.
Copy and Paste, Bill. Tweet to your heart’s consent. My patients hear it from me when they need it. And I repeat it to myself when shadows loom.
(And I’ve never read Norman Vincent Peal, but he has never read me either, so perhaps both of us were inspired by the same Sweet Truth?)
Jack
Jack,
Enjoyed your post and a healthy way to look at life.
For so many a background of losing family at a young age or witnessing a violent death can cause years of PTSD no matter how strong their belief system. So I am careful of judging people’s faith by their fears. Sometimes we can make horrible comments on this subject to a fragile soul. I may have been guilty of that.
But I like what one evangelist friend says: “No one has really died yet!” Only Jesus, we believe, has died the second and final death. Interesting how pastors rarely talk about this, especially in other denominations.