Category: Dying Well

Dying well:
Living like a tree- producing a burst of beauty as death approaches.

Dying well is not just about what happens when death is immanent, it is about living well in preparation for the final event.

The process of dying begins when we we are born, therefore, planning to die should, theoretically, be a life-long undertaking. In reality, planning to die well becomes relevant we accept our mortality. Culture’s avoidance of death, explains why many do not plan or die well.

Some may object to the idea planning to die well, i.e. “No one knows when where or how they will die!” ” God will take me when He is ready.”
It is ironic one would object to planning to die well and be very emphatic about planning for retirement, for example. It is true that our life is always tenuous. “I never thought I would live this long.” is not a reason to forgo planning.

Dying well, as defined, is a spiritual discipline, — advancing sanctification, It is also practical — addressing the welfare of those we leave behind. This post attends to the latter.
What follows is a stream of consciousness intended to eventually produce a cogent framework for addressing the welfare of those we leave behind. Future posts will focus on the spiritual.

In all the moments I spent at the bedside of the dying, I witnessed none where pain did not overcome the survivors. Even in deaths that were anticipated, like those among elderly people who had suffered the ravages of long-standing terminal illness, the loss left scars. Families who voiced acceptance of a loved one’s impending death struggled afterward, blindsided by the abrupt absence of someone dear to them. It was as if a part of their heart had been removed suddenly.
Kathryn Butler

For the dying, death’s effect – fear, temptation, sin – precede its appearance. Death’s consequences — grief, sorrow, loss – are the burden of those left behind.
Dying well does not eliminate, but attends to, the reality of the consequences of death for those left behind. To die well well is an act of love.
What follows are topics which minister to those we leave behind. Each topic is worthy of more discussion and may be addressed in future posts. For now, they are presented to further stimulate thinking about preparing to die well.

End of Life
End of life is often defined as the time between a medical declaration that one is dying and death. For this discussion the span end of life is from acceptance “I am going to die” until death. In either case the span of end of life is tenuous and can vary greatly, increasing the importance of the following topics

Last rites
An occurrence of death is a terrible time to make important decisions. To the extent possible, decisions should be made and executed in advance, or at least communicated clearly.It is true that the dead won’t know or care, but those left behind do.

• Cremation and/or burial
• Funeral arrangements / Prepaid?
• Funeral service
• Officiant/s

Legal/ Medical

• Medical Advance directive
• Living will
• Power of Attorney
• Driving Advance Directive
• Last Will and Testament
  
  Establish guardrails to help prepare for dying in our high-tech world before death is imminent.:
• Stay out of the hospital if possible.
• Avoid new devices, interventions, and procedures if possible.
• Spend your remaining days at home if possible.
• Nurture relationships with those you love.
  L.S. Dugdale
  

Conversation

Conversations are an essential part of nurturing relationships with those you love. It is important to have meaningful conversations before there is an immanent death crisis. In crisis , conversations about extraneous matters will not be a priority.
There is an inverse proportional relationship between meaningful conversations and the caliber of relationship. Paradoxically, the closer the relationship the more difficult, or less likely, it is for meaningful conversations to occur. There are exceptions, but the key point is “meaningful”. Close relationships are typically filled with fun, entertaining and informative conversations but when meaningful and/or serious topics arise— not so much. Either the conversation shuts down or it is diverted to a less risky topic.
This story about my father illustrates the point:

It has been well over two decades, but I remember it clearly. My father, in the closing days of his life, was in a shabby nursing home in North Alabama. Traveling from Kentucky to make what might be a final visit, I was hopeful we could have “the conversation” . You know what I mean, that conversation where you talk about all the “stuff” left unsaid; or, at a minimum, say final goodbyes. I did not have the forethought to prepare for that conversation, but as he lay there, bed-ridden, disfigured by age and ravaged by disease, I knew that there might never be another opportunity. When we had finished our usual small talk, and the room was quiet, I said “Dad, Is there anything you would like to talk about?” Laying on his back, looking at the ceiling, I could tell he was thinking. Absent his dentures he was chewing on his gums, unsupported lips flapping. As I looked at him he avoided eye contact. Tears began to well up and slowly roll down his cheeks. Chewing vigorously, he looked at me and said, “Could you hand me a cookie out of that drawer?”

Perhaps the most difficult challenge to preparing and dying well is having meaningful conversation about death and related issues. I can attest to this by my experience over the past year or so as I have intentionally engaged in developing a plan to die well. To have meaningful conversations requires attending to relationships which may be fragile or broken. Even when relationships are healthy, avoidance of death restraints needed conversations.
One more reason why dying well ain’t easy.

Community

We want somebody there when we die, and it is worth rehearsing for the inevitable in community now—while we have our wits about us and are able-bodied. Community does not materialize instantly at a deathbed; it must be cultivated over a lifetime.

The ars moriendi drives home the point that we die best in community. Rare is the person who dies alone and dies well. In fact, we might go so far as to say that it is impossible to die well if you die alone. Dying in the fifteenth century was truly a community affair.
ars moriendi literary genre sometimes characterized dying as a drama in which moriens (the dying person) is the protagonist and all other members of the patient’s community, from youngest to oldest, play supporting roles. The idea is that those in attendance at the deathbed could rehearse their roles in this familial drama while still young and healthy, in anticipation of their own future role as moriens. Rehearsing made it easier to sustain a supportive community once death hovered. When someone died, there would be no guessing about what one should do or say.
The Lost Art of Dying

A community surrounding us when we die is naturally thought of as family. Sadly in today’s world, often families are broken and absent at the end of life. For that reason, community needs a broader definition i.e. church or another group. In any case it is important that community be cultivated in a way that we are able to be in the company of loved ones when death nears.

Legacy

”With few exceptions, everyone wants to be remembered . That desire can be fulfilled in numerous ways — gravesites, monuments, photographs, etc. Reality is, those and other attempts to assure remembrance will fade and/or be forgotten.

“Almost all human endeavor is the attempt to mine the past for what we need to survive into the future.”
A legacy is the radiations of significance from a life-as it is lived and after it is over. “Your legacy is the fragrance of your life that remains when you yourself are not present.”
“The closest thing we have to a more permanent existence is our stories. Our stories capture more of who we are and what our life has been than anything else in the human experience.
_{Creating a Spiritual Legacy by Daniel Taylor}

“Preserve your stories now, while the memories are vivid. Think of the stories you’ve heard your partner or parents tell a thousand times. They are precious. When someone dies, we need those stories—not in a vague, half-remembered, second-hand form but in the original version, with all the plot twists, nuances, and personal storytelling quirks. Your own words and insights are more illuminating than others’ eulogies and tributes.”
https://mikefrost.net/the-way-you-tell-your-spiritual-autobiography-matters/

After our death, like ripples on the water, each story shared, is a memorial, sustaining our legacy.

What stories will be told?

poet Jim Harrison once wrote, “Death steals everything except our stories.” But if you don’t take care, death can steal those, too.

STILL ON THE JOURNEY

Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might break the power of him who holds the power of death—that is, the devil—and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death. 

Hebrews 2.14-15

With the exception of a few conclusions/comments, very little of this is post original to me. No surprise to regular readers, Richard Beck is my primary resource. His book “The Slavery of Death” has been formative in my engagement with the subject of death and dying. I highly recommend his blog “Experimental Theology” for current posts and as a great resource.

An important, perhaps the most important, factor in dying well is acknowledging our fear of death and it’s spiritual, mental, emotional and psychological manifestations in our lives.

The following quote from The Slavery of Death summarizes Beck’s contention:

Through the power of death and the devil, sin that reigns in men gives rise to fear and anxiety and to the general instinct of self-preservation or survival. Thus, Satan manipulates man’s fear and his desire for self-satisfaction, raising up sin in him. . . . Because of death, man must first attend to the necessities of life in order to stay alive. In this struggle, self-interests are unavoidable. Thus, man is unable to live in accordance with his original destiny of unselfish love. This state of subjection under the reign of death is the root of man’s weakness in which he becomes entangled in sin at the urging of the demons and by his own consent. Resting in the hands of the devil, the power of the fear of death is the root from which self-aggrandizement, egotism, hatred, envy, and other similar passions spring up. In addition to the fact that man “subjects himself to anything in order to avoid dying,” he constantly fears that his life is without meaning. Thus, he strives to demonstrate to himself and to others that it has worth. . . Fear and anxiety render man an individual.
This passage is a concise summary of the entire argument to this point. As mortal creatures the selfish pursuit of survival and self-preservation becomes our highest good, and these survival fears lead us into all sorts of sinful practices. Almost every unwholesome pursuit of humanity—from hedonism to self-aggrandizement to acquisitiveness to rivalry to violence—can be traced back to these basic survival fears.

Beck’s assertions regarding the relationship between the power of death, devil and sin challenged my assumptions about Genesis chapter 3, original sin, salvation and a variety of other related subjects and passages. For that reason, it is a impossible task to do Beck’s case justice in this post.
I will say, after reading The Slavery of Death, I have embraced his belief — “that death, not sin, is the primary predicament of the human condition. Death is the cause of sin. More properly, the fear of death produces most of the sin in our lives.”
My purpose is not to convince readers but hopefully stimulate curiosity, investigation and reading of “The Slavery of Death”.
Implications of the fear of death being the source of sin in our lives are profound. They not only effect our capability to die well, almost every aspect of our relationship with Christ is affected; from praxis and discipleship to spiritual formation and more. I cannot say you will be convinced, but I will say you will profit from the experience.

To conclude this post I will share a couple of observations that nudged toward my conclusion:

>Christian resistance to accepting death..

Although religious communities are not defined, it is reasonable to assume a significant population oof the study to be Christian or hold some belief in life after death. My limited, anecdotal, experience supports the study’s conclusion. Why would people who believe in heaven fight vigorously using all possible means to avoid their enviable death? I believe the answer, at least in part, is a fear of death. The most honest testimony I have read describing the terror of death for a Christian was written by Pastor and Theologian Timothy Keller. You read his essay HERE.

>Evidence from ars moriendi

According to Tractatus artis bene moriendi, or “Treatise on the Art of Dying Well, there are five temptations faced by the dying. Of his eleven woodcut prints, five depicted those temptations,  and another five pictured their resolutions. This meant that the illustration of disbelief was paired with an image of encouragement in faith, despair was coupled with an illustration of comfort through hope, impatience with a print encouraging patience, pride with humility, and avarice with “letting go” of the earthly.
Those temptations are eerily familiar in the protracted dying experiences in our modern context.
Interestingly, temptation of disbelief, despair, impatience and avarice are continually present in the Christian’s life, when we yield to them we lead to sin.
Connecting the dots of between ars moriendi and temptations of everyday Christian experience, was a significant nudge toward Beck’s position.

Changing the way we die takes work. What sort of work? …dying well requires the recovery of a sense of finitude and the embrace of community —both central features of the original ars moriendi.

L. S. Dugdale

I plan additional posts filtered through the lens of “death is the cause of sin”.

STILL ON THE JOURNEY