Recently I got to catch up with an old friend of mine. A lot had happened in both our lives since we last chatted. One thing she told me was her struggle seeing her friend die, specifically with what to do about last visits. It’s something I’ve heard often, and before my mom’s death, I never thought twice about it. This time I did. She said, “I didn’t want my kids to come say goodbye in the hospital. I didn’t want them to remember her that way.”

I understand. To view death changes you. Depending on the circumstances, seeing someone die can be traumatic. Of course you would never sign up voluntarily to view a traumatic experience, or volunteer your children for one. However, her statement revealed a misunderstanding we have about death and the value it brings. I’d like to highlight the value of death as our teacher, particularly from a biblical, Christian perspective. 

Rob Moll, in his book The Art of Dying, notes, “Death, while ever present, is ever more removed from our firsthand experience.” We live in a culture which pushes death away. Unconsciously, I believe many Western Christians have done the same. As the experience of death is pushed out of our homes into hospitals or care facilities, many now don’t know what to do at a deathbed. We don’t know how to navigate conversations when someone is dying. Medical advances, while offering longer life spans and treatment options for previously incurable diseases, have also reduced the opportunities for humans to be familiar with death. In this “divorce” from dying, we have lost much. 

Ecclesiastes 7:2 (NIV) says, “It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of everyone; the living should take this to heart.” And it continues. A couple verses later, the NLT puts verse 4 this way. “A wise person thinks a lot about death, while a fool thinks only about having a good time.”

So if it is better and wise to consider death, what lessons does death have to teach us? How does God view death? While I cannot devote much time to a biblical survey of death, it is good to first note a couple things God’s word tells us about it.

Death wasn’t part of God’s creation. Genesis 1 & 2 reveal how God created the world, sea, heavens, plants, birds, fish, and people, and declared it “very good”. Death, however, was named before sin entered the world. God told Adam and Eve that they must not eat of the fruit of the tree from the middle of the garden, or they would die. If you know the story, you know that our first parents did indeed eat, and death has been part of our lives ever since. 

Psalm 116:15 says, “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.” Precious. He counts death, specifically of his children, to be incredibly valuable. Yes, death can be a traumatic thing. But that is not all it is. It is also a holy thing.

In Ezekiel 33:11, God says, “…I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live; turn back, turn back from your evil ways, for why will you die, O house of Israel?” This sentiment is echoed in 2 Peter 3:9, where Peter says that the Lord is patient, not wishing anyone to perish but for all to repent (turn back to the Lord). We hear God’s passionate pleas to his people to turn back to him, for he wants them to live and not die. We hear how he takes no pleasure in the wicked’s death.

Fast forward to the New Testament. In Christ, who died and was raised again by the Spirit of God (Romans 8:11), the curse of death was broken. This does not mean we will not die; it means we who are in Christ will rise to eternal life. Romans 6:8-9 tell us this grand promise regarding Jesus. “Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. For we know that since Christ was raised from the dead, he cannot die again; death no longer has mastery over him.” 

And finally, in Revelation 21:4 we hear that Jesus “will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” One day, death will be no more.

While not by choice, I’ve been considering death and living in the house of mourning since my mom was diagnosed with Stage 4 tongue cancer. I was in it while I cared for her through a horrendous treatment process. I was with her while she died six months later. Death was ugly. Death isn’t God’s design. It wasn’t in his creation and it won’t be in his new creation that is coming. Yet I cannot deny that death has become my teacher. I have learned the following from death.

1. Death reminds us of our end and helps us live better. As Ecclesiastes 7 put it, we’re all heading to the same door. If we lay that to heart, if we are wise to consider death, we make course corrections. It acts like a purifying fire. You begin to see the things that do not matter which you thought did. You see the ways you’ve been wasting your time. You see what is temporary and eternal with shocking clarity. You see the good things you’ve elevated to higher status than they deserve. Your life comes into focus, and you see adjustments you want to make in order to spend whatever days you have left ad gloriam Dei. Death refines us.
2. Death provides opportunity. Every death story is unique, but death tends to create a powerful space for God’s work to be done. It can be a time of teaching, learning, giving and receiving comfort, prayer, forgiveness, and reconciliation. Some people get a glimpse into the spiritual realm while sitting at one’s deathbed. Also, we tend to forget the simple yet profound value of presence. My mom’s particular type of cancer meant that she lost the ability to speak five months before she died. A few days before she died, she lost the ability to write or type anything. Verbal communication wasn’t an option for us. But as soon as she knew she was dying, she began mouthing words to me. She mouthed names of people. She wanted presence from her friends and family. I got on the phone with the ones who couldn’t travel so they could have one more chat with her, and she could hear their voice one more time. I could see the visible calming effect being with her people had on her in her last hours. Of course we must be sensitive to the circumstances and the preferences of the dying and their family, but we must also know and remember the value of such a sacred space and seek to join in as the opportunity affords. 
3. Death brings glory to God. Witnessing our loved one dying gives us one of the most painful pictures of how evil death really is. It reminds us of the ultimate effect of sin. How dark, how deep, how vile to witness the human body of an image bearer of God wear out, decay, or be overtaken by disease. While Christians today often approach death with rejoicing because it brings us to God, we also need to mourn its evilness, and hold joy and sorrow in tandem. It may break your heart. As it breaks God’s heart. It is deeply profound and powerful. It gives us a better image of what God hates and what Jesus came to defeat. It makes the glory of God in Jesus Christ shine. We must remember from what Jesus is saving us. The good news isn’t good until you see the depth of the bad. 

While seeing death can (and often is) traumatic, it is not the only thing you will remember about your loved one. Trauma does not get the last word. I can speak from experience. I’ve heard of deaths that are peaceful and worshipful. Mom’s circumstances did not allow for such a death. It was traumatic. I thank God for the mercy of morphine that allowed her final breaths to be peaceful. Yet our traumatic experiences do not now dominate my memory of her. I also thank God for trauma therapy that allows our brains to heal from traumatic experiences. Another time I could tell you of my phenomenal trauma therapist and the hard, fruitful process of trauma therapy. The lie behind the reason, “I don’t want to remember them that way,” says that trauma or death has the final word. It does not have to. While I will remember those moments to my last day, they have lost their power to give my body a trauma response. Now, what floods my mind are memories of my gloriously human, imperfect, beautiful mother, of our life together. Walking through tulip fields together, laughing at Aunt Hetty from Avonlea, rambunctious, way too competitive Pictionary games, almost getting bounced from the Paul McCartney concert because she got too close to his wardrobe storage. I remember her brokenness. I also imagine who she will be when I see her again. Perfected. I wait eagerly for that day. 

1 Corinthians 15:26 says, “The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.” While it is indeed our enemy, God has also turned it to be our teacher, if we are wise enough and brave enough to attend to it. 

Next blog teaser: what might it look like to welcome death to church?