How are you preparing for your own death?
As soon as i spotted the police cars in our driveway I knew that my father had died. Although he was recovering rapidly from the heart attack he had suffered less than a month before, it took me only a moment to deduce that his weakened heart had been victimized by a second attack.
When I went into the house my mother, always the strong one in our family, acknowledged what I had already surmised. After we consoled each other, my mother returned to the unpleasant chore of telephoning the rest of our family to give them the unexpected news, while I timidly and curiously made my way downstairs to view my father’s body.
I had never seen a dead person before. I was 20 years old and well aware that people died, yet I had never come close to touching a dead body. I wasn’t sure what to think as I sat there on the floor looking at the body of the man who had been my father. I didn’t know whether to cry or to be angry, whether to hold his hand or just look, whether to say something or sit in silence.
Then, what I didn’t want to think about forced its way into my consciousness: “Someday, I’m going to die, too. Someday that will be me.”
Since then, I’ve discovered from talking with others who have lost a parent that it is very common to have such thoughts. When a grandparent dies, we unconsciously sense that our parents serve as a buffer between ourselves and death. But when a parent dies, there is no escaping the reality that our generation is next in line.
I have thought about death often since that time, but never considered it as seriously as I did last year when I enrolled in a graduate program in counseling to improve my skills as a pastor and counselor. I was immediately asked to fill out a 20-page form entitled “Personal Death Awareness” (PDA) Its purpose is to force one to come to grips with his or her feelings and fears about death. The rationale for this is that it is presumptuous for counselors who have never done anything to prepare for their own deaths to counsel people who are facing death. Though I vigorously resisted doing the PDA, it proved to be helpful, for it motivated me to rethink my theology of death. Here are some of the questions the PDA asked:
• How old do you think you will be when you die?
• What do you expect to die from?
• If you had your choice, how would you want to die?
• Which, if either, frightens you more: death, or dying?
• What about dying do you fear: (1) Pain? (2) Progressive deterioration and disability? (3) Being left alone? (4) Receiving inadequate medical care?
• Have you ever thought about committing suicide?
• Who would you like to have involved in your funeral? What do you want to have happen at your funeral? What message would you want people attending your funeral to hear?
• What do you most want to accomplish before you die?
Answering these and other questions, then discussing them with my classmates, was an uncomfortable experience. As strong as I think my faith in God is, thinking about my own death was—and is—a bit unsettling. It is unsettling because death seems so final; it is unsettling because I value having control over the circumstances of my life, and death is something very much out of my control; it is unsettling because though I’ve known many people who have died and have studied the dynamics of death and dying, the actual experience of dying is, quite obviously, one I’ve never had. It is an unknown, and the unknown unsettles me.
How is a Christian supposed to think about death? Is it wrong to be afraid of dying? Since we Christians believe in resurrection and eternal life, is it hypocritical to grieve when a loved one dies? To be angry when test results reveal that I have an inoperable tumor? What is the appropriate perspective for a Christian to have about death?
Common Attitudes Toward Death
It is instructive to consider some of the more common ways people think about death. One prevalent attitude toward death is denial. Rather than admit that death is inevitable, some people deny that it will ever happen to them.
Last year I often visited a 75-year-old man who had been informed that he had terminal cancer. Despite gentle efforts that would have permitted him to talk openly about that fact and his feelings about it, not once did he ever verbally admit that he was going to die. He said nothing about it to his wife and children, and refused to discuss it with his doctors. As far as I could observe, he had done his best to banish the thought of death completely from his awareness.
We all know intellectually that someday we too will die, but one’s own death can be a very frightening thing to contemplate. We tend to think of death as some nebulous creature that we won’t encounter for so long that there is no real reason to bother thinking about it. In his Pulitzer Prize-winning book The Denial of Death (Free Press, 1973), Ernest Becker suggested that the primary concern of every living person is death, and that most people deal with that concern by denying that it will ever happen to them.
We find a second common attitude toward death in Hebrews 2:14–15: “Since the children, as he calls them, are people of flesh and blood, Jesus himself became like them and shared their human nature. He did this so that through his death he might destroy the Devil, who has the power over death, and so set free those who were slaves all their lives because of their fear of death” (GNB)
Of all the fears and anxieties we sustain in human life, the fear of death is likely the most universal, and it can be an especially paralyzing fear. Some, as the author of Hebrews says, have been enslaved by that fear all their lives. The perspective of the person afraid of death—which, I suspect, includes each of us at some time or other—is that death means pain, loneliness, and even terror.
A third common attitude toward death is one I have found to be particularly prevalent among my non-Christian friends. It might be called the “bridge” attitude, and it says, “Death is a bridge that I’ll cross when I reach it. There’s nothing I can do about it now, and what I think about it won’t change what will happen anyway. So why worry?” People with this perspective don’t seem to fear death, nor do they deny that they, too, will someday die. They simply see no alternative to waiting until it happens and taking it as it comes.
The Biblical Perspective
What does the Bible teach about death? And how should Christians think about death?
The Bible repeatedly emphasizes two central truths about death. The first is that death is an enemy. It is not a “natural” part of human existence, not something to be accepted casually and nonchalantly.
Shortly after my father died I attended a seminar where I heard a seminary professor talk about coping with crisis. He related his own experience with the death of his mother-in-law a few weeks previously. This dynamic and greatly loved woman had died from cancer. Following the funeral service, a number of sincere, well-meaning Christian friends said to this professor, who was obviously shaken by the loss of a woman he cared for deeply: “Don’t feel bad. Don’t cry. Isn’t it wonderful that she’s gone to be with the Lord?”
He had smiled weakly, he said, and given a token nod of assent to his friends’ comments. Inside, however, he felt ready to explode with anger and grief and frustration. He wanted to shout at the top of his lungs, “No, it’s not wonderful that she’s gone! I miss her and I hurt and I’m going to cry as much as I want!”
He then explained a biblical perspective of death that was new to me, and one that was very effective in helping me to make sense out of my feelings about my father’s death. Death, he said, is never a good thing. Death is an evil. When God created the world, everything that he created was good. Death was not a part of God’s original creation. It only became “natural”—in the sense that all living things die—after mankind’s sin (Gen. 3:19). Death, according to the Bible, is a consequence of evil and a punishment for evil.
Futhermore, death is under the authority of the Evil One himself, Satan. Says the author of Hebrews: Jesus came to … destroy him who holds the power of death—that is, the devil” (Heb. 2:14, NIV). Death, then, is one of the weapons in Satan’s arsenal that he uses to wage war on God and on humanity. More than once the Book of Revelation reveals the fact that one of Satan’s chief methods of waging war on the saints is to put the saints to death (Rev. 11:7; 12:17; 13:7; 17:6; 18:24). In 1 Corinthians 15:26 the apostle Paul says of death, “The last enemy to be destroyed is death.”
Because death is evil, it is entirely appropriate to hate death, to grieve over death, to be apprehensive about death, and to be angry at death. Even though we believe in resurrection and eternal life, it is not evidence of a lack of faith to grieve over death. Rather, to resist and loathe death is a proper response.
Remember how Jesus responded to the death of his close friend Lazarus? “When Jesus saw her [Mary] weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled; and he said, ‘Where have you laid him?’ They said to him, ‘Lord, come and see.’ Jesus wept” (John 11:33–35).
Greek scholars tell us that the Greek words translated “deeply moved” and “troubled” can just as well be translated: “indignant,” “outraged,” “agitated,” and “angry.” But why was Jesus outraged? After all, wasn’t Lazarus better off? Wasn’t Jesus about to resurrect him anyway? Don’t be upset, Jesus; don’t cry.
We must realize that Jesus was outraged because the Enemy had just won another battle. Death had claimed another victim. But Jesus was not only angry, he was grieved, and the tears poured down his face. He was overwhelmed by the loss and the pain and the anguish of knowing that a person he dearly loved had died.
Learning that it was acceptable for me as a Christian to ache inside because my father had died and to be apprehensive about the thought that I would someday die was a tremendously liberating insight. That discovery has allowed me to grieve over death without guilt. It has removed the burden of trying to pretend that I don’t have any fears or anxieties whatsoever about death since I am a Christian. I take great comfort in the knowledge that Jesus himself not only wept when Lazarus died, but that he also wept when contemplating his own death (cf. Matt. 26:36–39 with Heb. 5:7).
I also take great comfort in the knowledge that Jesus is able to empathize with my concerns over death. When I grieve, Jesus grieves both for me and with me. He has not left me to endure the pain of death alone. He shares that pain with me. In describing Jesus as our High Priest, Hebrews 4:15 states, “Our High Priest is not one who cannot feel sympathy for our weaknesses. On the contrary, we have a High Priest who was tempted in every way that we are, but did not sin” (GNB) When the time comes for each of us to face death, we will not face it alone. We will face it with Jesus at our side, the one who understands our dread and our insecurity completely because he has faced death himself.
Death As A Beginning
There is a second truth that Scripture emphasizes about death: the truth that through the resurrection of Jesus Christ death has been transformed from an ending into a beginning. Through the resurrection death has been changed from a period into a comma, from a conclusion into an introduction, from a final destination into a rest stop.
That is not to intimate, however, that transitions are painless. Moving away from Minnesota, where I had spent the first 23 years of my life, was a very traumatic experience for me. Leaving Minnesota meant leaving my family, leaving friends, leaving the church where I was baptized, and leaving years of fond memories. It was a bit frightening to pack all my earthly goods into my car, wave goodbye to my family, and head for a strange place called California where I had yet to make my first friend.
But after the initial disorientation and homesickness, I discovered that California wasn’t all that bad a place to live. In fact, it has a variety of advantages I didn’t enjoy in Minnesota. In less than one hour I can be sailing on the Pacific Ocean, and in four hours I can be hiking in the Sierra Nevadas. To add to the pleasure, two-thirds of the year the skies are clear blue and the days pleasantly warm. After living in California it is hard for me to remember why I was so reluctant to leave behind the mosquitoes and the humidity of midwestern summers and the ice and dead car batteries of Minnesota winters.
As natural as it is to be reluctant to leave behind our physical existence on earth, we need to remember that the end of life here is the necessary transition to the beginning of a new life in heaven. And what a life that will be! Heaven will be more beautiful than the most dazzling sunset, more satisfying than the most delicious meal, more joyful than the birth of a first child.
Best of all, heaven will be home. After living as aliens on earth, our heavenly Father will welcome us with open arms to our eternal home where pain and heartache won’t even be a memory, and where we will be able to enjoy an intimacy with God and with our loved ones that we had never imagined to be possible.
Death is an ending, and endings are painful. Leaving behind the known for the unknown is never easy. Yet death is also a beginning, the beginning of a life so far better than what we know now as to defy comparison. Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die” (John 11:25–26).
Through his grace and power our almighty God is able to take that which is evil in itself and use it to accomplish something good. Death is an evil, but in the hands of God, that’s not all it is. Through Christ’s resurrection it has also become a means of good. The evil of death has become the beginning of a new, abundant, eternal life in heaven.
Preparing For Death
Because death is an enemy, it is entirely appropriate to grieve when a loved one dies and to feel anxious about our own future death. Knowing that death is also the beginning of an infinitely better life provides us with comfort to assuage our grief and courage to face our fears. But there is one thing death is not. Death is not a bridge that we can cross when we come to it. It is an event for which we must be prepared. It is an event each of us is preparing for every day, whether carefully or haphazardly.
How are you preparing for your death—not your parents’ or your spouse’s or your friends’—but yours? How have you prepared for your death today, or this last week, or this last year? Each time I think about my own death, I ask myself three questions to help me to evaluate how well I am prepared for that day:
• Am I right in my relationship with God?
• Am I right in my relationships with my family, with my friends, with my coworkers? Are there relationships I need to reconcile? Are there words I need to say?
• Am I investing myself in things that will last for eternity?
Unless our Lord returns, I will someday die. I will have to face death the enemy and know death the new beginning. It cannot be prevented. But there is a great deal I can do to prepare for it. And the time to begin healthy and earnest preparation is now.
