• Nov 16th, 2012 at 3:00 PM (CST)
• By PD
• Categories:

I spend a fair bit of time dealing with death. I am in hospitals, extended care facilities and hospices. I see a lot of pain and concern in the faces of people who are ill and failing in health.

Yet, this does not take me down emotionally. I enjoy lifting the spirit of the person suffering with shared humor. Even in suffering if we are determined we can find joy. I believe the Christian has a wellspring of joy from knowing Jesus Christ and the promise of life eternal through faith in him.

Those who know me are aware I am an audiophile; I just love stereo stuff and listening to music. One of my best friends in the hobby has cancer and was over last night for a "listening session," where you put on beautiful music, listen quietly, then discuss the experience. I would guess that sounds boring to a video game addict or person on the party circuit. The one thing it does is build quality friendships.

My friend was not feeling well; he almost called to say he couldn't make it. But he dug deep for extra strength and came over. He looks and acts weak; not nearly the physical specimen of health he was a couple years ago. He's undergoing testing this week and next; if the results are bad, then the prognosis is he's in a state of dying and the battle to extend his life begins in earnest.

He came over for a specific reason, to ask a favor; if he dies, will I look after helping his wife sell his audio gear? Of course I would, I said. How is that for a thrilling night of fun? Sit quietly to listen and talk about death! Want to join us sometime?

The significance of him playing one of his favorite female vocalists ever for us to listen to, and his halting, slow progress up the steps from the basement after candidly turning to me after 1.5 hours saying, "I have to go," was not lost on me. He is suffering quite a bit, and this may be our last listening session at my home. He came to be with me, his friend, but also to ask if I would help should he need assistance with his estate.

He is a Roman Catholic believer who knows Jesus personally. Faith for him is not some construct, or an institutional relationship, but a daily teasing out of life's purpose and faith as we try to live as Jesus did. We both are insistent upon the need to be close to God; we have much different about ourselves in terms of political and social circles but we both love audio and God - and that has been enough to bond us as friends for years.

He knows I know about death, which is why we speak openly about it to each other. As I have grown and matured in faith in my life I find it easier to "deal with" death; to be at the bedside of a dying person, to stay in a room when there is a dead body, to look into the face of a person dying and say, "Soon you will be in the presence of Christ." I never thought I would have a gift for "Death Ministry," but each of us develops as God wishes in our faith.

Yet, somehow I think all Christians should be this way. Shouldn't we all be able to "stare death in the face," by being confident of the resurrection to life eternal in Jesus' name? Shouldn't we all be prepared to give up life even today? Shouldn't we all be ready to confess Jesus publicly and suffer all, even death, rather than deny Him? Shouldn't we all be able to speak of death openly, ours or others'? Shouldn't we properly be seeing our death as the vehicle of God's selection to usher us to Heaven?

I know some people emotionally run from death, try to avoid anything dealing with it nearly as though it is a virus which they will catch if they acknowledge its presence. I don't get that; we are creatures moving, "ashes to ashes, dust to dust," and no amount of faking and avoiding is going to alter that fact. I find that confidence in Jesus Christ and the resurrection to Life everlasting gives strength and encouragement to not be held captive to fear of death (see Hebrews 2:14-15).

I recall a prayer that Pope John Paul III used to pray, rougly paraphrased, "God grant me the grace to accept my death and the manner in which I will be killed." It strikes me as profound, as we tend to pray for others when facing death but seem to tend less to the topic of our own death when healthy. I pray that prayer occassionally, and wonder how God will call his breath of life in my body back to Himself.

Morbid? Of course! It's death, after all! But like taking a long and potentially arduous journey, I would far rather discuss and prepare for it than not.  I am not suicidal - not remotely close to it; I love the blessed life God has granted me. But I often think, "God, let me die well," meaning that somehow I want my death to mirror my faith, to be consistent with what I have professed of love of God all my days. Like finishing a race well, I want to die well, strong in Jesus.

Hopefully, like my friend, you wish to as well.