My experiences as a Hospice chaplain would support the statement that death can be one of Faith's most teachable moments. I don't talk too much in these podcasts about the impact chaplaincy has had on my life, but I will say here, that it has had significant impact.
Our spiritual beliefs are often held close to our hearts. Many people find it almost impossible to put into words what they truly believe when it comes to their spirituality. Most of our lives, there’s little need to try. However, when someone we love is dying or if we ourselves are facing our own mortality, what we believe in is sometimes all we have. And even then, for many, it is a topic of discussion difficult to put into words.
There is very little this life offers in the way of teachable moments that can compare to losing the physical presence of another human being we love.
I’ll never forget a woman whispering to me hours before she died “How does anyone do this without God?” and all I could say to her was “I don't know Jean, but they don't do it with the Grace I see in you.”
Belief in something we can’t see or prove; something good, something true, something sacred; gives those who are dying an intimate sense of comfort and helps give those of us being left the strength we need to survive our grief. But not everyone has a sense of what awaits that is steeped in goodness and love.
In Hospice care we understand that those facing end of life issues navigate the experience much more smoothly when supported and assisted by a team of trained and experienced professionals. When spirituality is explored as part of that journey, patients and their families can find a safe and supportive way to express and explore their beliefs. It is a beautiful and rich experience when our questions, fears, concerns and expectations feel heard.
“What do you think happens to us when we die?” is a question we all have. I imagine it to be something every human wrestles with at some point in their living. I can't speak to any of the other living things we share this planet with but something tells me that humans are probably exclusive in this. It's that whole ego and free will thing that we have that the other animals do not.
Some people easily answer that question with “Nothing. Nothing happens. It's just over.” and others will say, “I don't know. I haven't done it yet” but when I've been super fortunate, someone will actually talk to me in length about what they believe. Sitting with a couple of dear friends, having a serious thoughtful honest exchange about our beliefs around life and living, and then death and the possibility of 'living on' can be so thought provoking and enlightening.
The moment we are born, we begin the trajectory to death. Every day, if we wake up not in our grave, we are one day closer to it. It's the big truth. The truth of the inevitability of death seems to be part of what makes it so hard to talk about. That, and the fact that these conversations can be painful and we typically avoid pain whenever and wherever and in whatever form we can.
I believe it's so much more important to focus on our living than it is to focus on our dying. And yet, all things death seem to be where I am constantly drawn. A friend and I were having a discussion last night about death and life and she said “How much longer do you have to live? Possibly? People live to 100. So it is possible you could live another 30 years. Yes or no? And when you die, how long will you be dead for? FOREVER! So why do we waste so much time being unhappy and worrying about things that are past or things that haven't yet happened instead of just being excited to be breathing?”
Of course I agree with that. Being alive, in this human form, as far as I can tell, is our time to heal, to help, to love, to be grateful and to grow in a deeper understanding of what this is all for.
And I also believe that this existence as humans is a brief encounter with something, some opportunity, some gift, that, if ignored, is lost. We have the ability to formulate ideas and explore beliefs about existential things.
I can't say for certain what happens when we die. But I have far too much evidence in my own life to ever believe that it's just over. I have sadly seen how some organized religions, through their teachings about an afterlife harmfully interfere with some people being able to peacefully approach leaving our Earth suits behind. It feels very vulnerable to be exposing myself here, talking about religion. And I do not want, ever, to insult or dismiss anyone's beliefs.
And still, I know, part of what I signed on for when I started these podcasts
was to participate in an honest expression of the idea that if we are not willing to have these conversations with people, especially the people we love, we miss something. And it might just be that 'something' that comes with the privilege or burden of being human. I don't know.
People who have been exposed, before they are able to thoughtfully and maturely discern for themselves what they believe, when they are taught early and often that we must live and feel a certain way, that we are born bad and have to earn our goodness, that there are things we might do that are unforgivable AND that when we die it can go one of two ways; those folks are sometimes very challenged by the imminence of death.
I was bedside one day with someone at the hospital. Someone who's body was ravaged with cancers and 25 other co-morbidities and someone who was devote in her Catholic faith. She was still able to talk but just barely. The hospital doctors were throwing everything but the laundry room sink at her to keep her alive. She was not a DNR or a DNI and we were very close to needing to move her to critical care and put her on machines. She was suffering, she was frail and old, she wanted to go but she believed that if she stopped any of the interventions that she was somehow saying she did not believe in God. It was a deeply memorable teaching moment in my life.
This woman did not fear, as so many others have, that she perhaps had not lived a good enough life to enter heaven. She simply worried about asking us to remove the obstacles to her being able to die, as though by doing so, she was somehow committing suicide. Once this conversation took place, with her blessing I called the priest from her church and asked if he would come hear what she was struggling with. I knew that if there was anyone who could help her it would be him; it needed to be him. The conversations we had shared during her months of treatment in the cancer center had been meaningful and comforting. But I learned in that moment at her bedside that I did not have the power or the right to tell her she would be fine. But her priest did. Our hospital is built directly across the street from the local parish of the Catholic church. Her priest, thankfully, came immediately and within minutes gave her the blessing and reassurance she needed to fall like a feather into the hands of God.
The lessons learned through the honor of being alongside as someone dies that relate directly to what we believe are quietly hidden within the folds of all the other things going on. And, they have been for me, the lessons that teach me about my faith. And about how I want to live my life.
When my mom used the months she had between diagnosis and death to prepare her children for the inevitability that we would walk the earth as motherless adults, she gave us the greatest gift she had to give besides the gift of life itself. None of us could grasp how we would survive losing her. In her eloquent words, she express her beliefs about death, God, the Universe and living the life she had by then, almost finished living. She explored her heart the only way she knew how and poured it out like pints of pretty paint on a white canvass. She gave us hope in the assurances she offered based on her faith in something so much larger than our brains can probably even begin to comprehend. And she did it while she was able to answer our questions and participate in discussions and, she set the course for my life work being what it is today.
Spirituality, at end of life, becomes larger than life itself.
When we can find the courage to reveal what we hold most sacred to those we most love, we open doors to abundant possibilities for discovery.
And I believe all of us have the power to make that kind of difference in the world.
Wouldn't it be lovely if more of us did?
This is SJ. Thank you for listening and I hope you will join me again WTVGT.