Reflections on Death

“For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith; in the future there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day; and not only to me, but also to all who have loved His appearing.” 2 Timothy 4:6-8

I guess I’m getting old. Most of the close relatives that I’ve loved in my life are gone. My Dad died over 17 years ago and he was preceded by an older brother now dead almost 25 years. Most of my parents’ siblings have passed on and my mother has begun to wonder if she will be the last one to say goodbye to her generation (she’s a mere 85 years young). The “Circle of Life” philosophy is depressing if you ask me. I much prefer the “Eternal Life” theology of God’s Word.

Last month, August 2010, my family and I began our journey home to the USA for about 5 months of what we call Stateside Assignment (STAS). We left Seoul, Korea on Monday, 9 Aug, and stopped over in Vancouver, BC for a 4-day visit with our friends the Thompsons. On Friday, 13 Aug, we completed our journey to the USA when we arrived in my hometown of Kansas City, Missouri. That evening we had dinner with my immediate family and I was made aware that my Aunt Margaret was not expected to live much longer. The next day, Saturday, 14 Aug, my family and I went to the hospice which was providing final care for Aunt Margaret in order to pay our respects to the family and say goodbye. Our travel plan called for only six days in Kansas City because we needed to get the boys to Texas for the beginning of their public school experience.

Nancy and Judy, my cousins, Aunt Margaret’s only children were present along with many members of their respective immediate families. Aunt Margaret had been placed in the hospice over four weeks prior to my visit. Soon after her arrival, she had slipped into a coma which they didn’t expect her to awake from prior to death. Her family was honoring her wish that no extreme measure be carried out to sustain her life and this included even intravenous feeding. Still the caregivers were saying that her vital functions remained stable and relatively strong after almost a month without sustenance. The girls had been maintaining a constant presence and many others visited regularly in order to provide comfort. The wear and tear on each person’s face made it evident that the four weeks of waiting was taking a toll and the emotions were on edge. I decided that while my responsibility as a nephew/cousin had been met, it was apparent that the family needed spiritual support as well. I had previous pastoral experience in ministering to families at the time of a loved one’s death and asked if we could read some Scripture and have a time of prayer. Reminding them all of God’s presence and providence eased their suffering. I had each of my four sons come forward and say goodbye to their great-aunt Margaret then promised that if time allowed on Sunday I would try to stop by once more before we left for Texas. It was a good visit and ministry opportunity which also provided a chance to teach my boys about facing death.

I wish this was the end of the story because the rest is an uncomfortable exercise in transparency. My purpose in sharing these intimate details is to trust that the Holy Spirit will use my experience to teach you something about how we as born-again believers should be prepared to cross death’s doorway into our eternal future with Jesus Christ. I don’t have many conclusions to make only reflections for thought.

Sunday, Aug 15, will always be a special day in my spiritual walk with the Lord. It was planned to be a day of celebration with my immediate family as we scheduled a “covered dish dinner” following the morning worship services at my nephew’s church in Lee’s Summit, MO.; but God had much bigger and better plans. After a late Saturday night visiting with my family and an early Sunday morning of worship, followed by an afternoon of fellowship, I was ready for a nap. I remembered my promise made to Judy and Nancy but thought that the previous day’s ministry would be hard to top and decided to call it a day. As we settled in for the evening at my nephew’s, my mother and sister decided it was time to go as they had plans to stop by the hospice on their way back to Independence where my sister and mom live.

The nagging ache of conviction kept me from my nap. I knew my 85 year old mother, suffering from chronic arthritis and bursitis, was much more in need of rest than me, yet motivated by love she made the sacrifice to once again go out of her way to visit the sick much as Jesus had demonstrated time and time again. I’m slow but not stupid! I gathered my family together and off we went to visit a comatose aunt and her family that nobody in the car except for me knew anything about.

Sunday afternoon in the hospice was busy and crowded with staff and visiting family members. Most of the doors along the corridor were open in order to contain the standing room only audiences of grieving loved ones gathered to say final farewells. Aunt Margaret’s was no exception. On Sunday, even the kids came out and her room was full of people I didn’t even recognize. In my heart, I secretly rejoiced that my quick hello and goodbye would meet with little resistance. I left my family in the hallway and took the plunge into a swirling eddy of tears and grief. Nancy gave me an update of no significant change and as far as I could see, Aunt Margaret’s breathing sounded normal and she appeared peacefully asleep. It also became readily apparent that she was the only one in the room at peace. I’m uncomfortable when women cry. Several men in the room on the verge of tears was more than I could handle so I decided to change the environment. I ask permission from no one in particular if we could have a time of worship. This is my comfort zone, and besides it was Sunday and I figured most of those present, especially Nancy and Judy, had not had the chance to attend worship today.

Nancy is the worship leader at the small Baptist Church she attends, so I ask her if she would lead us in singing the old standard hymn, “When We All Get to Heaven.” I was expecting that Nancy and I would basically sing a subdued and shaky duet. Instead, she led a magnificent choir in a heavenly rendition that filled the entire wing of the hospice to everyone’s delight. Now that I had the undivided attention of an audience that included staff and guests from other rooms it occurred to me that I was totally unprepared as to what message God wanted shared. In a moment of surrender mixed together with trembling fear, I was guided by the Holy Spirit to the Scripture verses from 2 Timothy listed above. As I read these inspired words and shared my thoughts on a life well lived and pleasing to God, I challenged everyone that Christians should not only live well but we should die well also.

It was my intent to close our worship with a moment of prayer at Aunt Margaret’s bedside. As I stood next to her and laid my hand upon her head it is my testimony to you all that the prayer I prayed came not from me but literally from He who indwells me, the Holy Spirit of Jesus Christ. I’ve prayed over dying people several times in my pastoral ministry and I knew what I wanted to say. It was my desire to thank Aunt Margaret for her positive Christian lifestyle witness and to simply say that we all looked forward to the day when we would join her and our loved ones that had gone before. Instead I spoke in a clear and strong voice the following: “Aunt Margaret let go and go home!”

My friends, I witness to you that my first emotion was fear. I was afraid of the negative response that I expected from my cousins as I heard these words come out of my mouth. As I lifted up my head and made eye contact with them, I was sorry for what I had prayed. Never before in my life had I thought of praying such a prayer. Literally embarrassed, I turned and started mumbling my goodbye as I started to leave the room. My mother was sitting next to Aunt Margaret’s head softly crying when she broke the uncomfortable silence that had come over the room. She said to Nancy and Judy that Aunt Margaret had stopped breathing. I stopped in my tracks and pivoted to see Nancy and a nurse rush over to check her vital signs. The nurse said Aunt Margaret had no pulse and we all stared in silence at the body lying on the bed waiting for the final words of closure.

Secretly, I prayed that her heart would start beating again. My mother broke the silence by looking at me and stating that Aunt Margaret had waited for permission to go home. I thought to myself this was nonsense and just hoped that no one else was listening. Several minutes passed and finally the nurse officially pronounced that Aunt Margaret was gone. The dam burst and everyone in the room broke into a crescendo of tears mixed together with praise as the family of God joined in Spirit to say goodbye to a dearly loved mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and Aunt.

Three days later, on Wednesday, 18 Aug, at Nancy and Judy’s request I officiated at Aunt Margaret’s funeral service. The message I gave was a personal testimony of God’s Grace to let me and my family be a part of the learning process that Aunt Margaret’s passing had become for everyone. I’m still not sure of what all God wanted me to learn from this experience. Also, I’m certain that people got a variety of lessons especially tailored for their circumstances from the same event. However, I feel confident to say at least this much, our Christian testimony is sealed as much by the way we die as by the way we live!

“For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.” Philippians 1:21