By JIM NICHOLS

If one advertised a church class series titled “Religion, Spirituality, and the Aging Person,” one would logically draw a limited audience. Besides the obvious age distinction expected, one might also sense hesitancy for more pure reasons. “Aging” implies an interest in a human future and yet scripture clearly promotes that we should avoid being overly concerned about tomorrow. Instead, we should focus on the blessings and work that God has given us today. That is true. However, when you get to a certain age, this consideration ceases to be an optional activity; it becomes a clearer and clearer part of one’s life.

My hospice chaplain role has shown me some sides of aging, death, and dying that I had not expected. Understanding the complexity of the topic, I share here a few observations.

It is an understatement to suggest that we live in a modern time of death denial. Even starting through reading this, you may be asking yourself, “Do I really want to continue this article?” This brings sadness of our past and fear of our future. Our tendency toward this denial appears in our funeral/memorial services by the move away from worship gatherings that unite the participants with one another and God and replaces worship with upbeat, bouncy “celebrations of life.”

Rather than a denial of death approach, it would be better if we could strive for a view of death that involves Christian anticipation. With a minimum amount of development, I note here some areas of “anticipation.”

1. Appreciation for their care. Seldom have I seen a dying person continue in bitterness (if it were ever present). I am thinking of a patient in a care facility who initially felt nothing was acceptable. The food was awful and so was the roommate; the level of attentiveness by the staff was bad, as was the temperature of the room. Within just a few weeks, however, she seemed to move to a positive level of acceptance. Every one of her caretakers was struck by the change that was largely due to their good care for her.

Another patient had a set of staggeringly difficult physical, emotional, and psychological problems yet remained largely positive and thanking God for her blessed life.

A man dying of kidney failure spent his whole last visit with me praising the excellent care provided for him in the home of his sister-in-law. 

2. Sense of peace. By the end of life many people seem to have gotten past most fears and apprehensions. The unknown seems welcome if it is God’s unknown. I believe this is the work of the Holy Spirit removing fear. Jesus talks about this often.
3. Anticipation of reunions. Every one of us misses someone who has passed before us. The concept of “reunion” is exceedingly positive and our human experiences of that lead us to anticipate great reunions after we leave this earth.
4. Anticipation of understanding and glory. I make no claim to much understanding of the book of Revelation. What I do sense is that we can anticipate a grand welcoming into God’s existence, an inclusion in the story that has been unfolding for centuries. Our adoption as God’s children will be finally recognized completely. From the bedside, I can sense this occurring in patients.

These four observations have been repeated in my experience; they encourage me about my personal future.

Dan Blazer is an emeritus professor and physician at Duke Medical School. He was commenting specifically on dementia, but I believe his impulse applies to death and dying in general. He suggested that this event is like a symphony; there are a few themes that repeatedly cycle through, but there are also specific different dimensions around those themes.

If correct, this makes generalizations difficult. Because we are humans, we seem to have an inbuilt fear of the unknown; mysteries may be fascinating when they occur to characters in novels, but we prefer predictability. 

Death and dying present inevitable unknowns for each of us. It is important as believers that we camp on the idea that God continues to be present during that time for us. The last chapter will be written by God. Author and theologian Will Willimon notes, “It’s not over with us until God says it’s over.”

Jim Nichols is a retired Abilene Christian University biology professor and current hospice chaplain