My wife, Cassie, and I went to see My Sister’s Keeper the other night at the dollar theater. The premise of the movie centers on Anna, the younger sister of Kate. Kate has suffered from Leukemia since she was a child and Anna was conceived with the purpose of being a donor for her – and ever since she was a newborn, that’s exactly what Anna was. Poked. Prodded. Cut. And so, at the age of 11, she sues her parents for medical emancipation all of which culminates in the death of Kate. The movie was excellent. Great acting, great story, very moving.
But this isn’t a review.
There’s a scene near the end of the movie that Christians have a lot to learn from.
Kate is dying of cancer and as we’ve seen her cancer progress, we know that she is very near the end of her life (by the way they make her look, its obvious), and she has extended family coming in to see her. One by one they come in to say hello and one by one they offer her advice on how she can get better.
“Just tell yourself that you’re going to get better and you will.”
“I heard one lady that talked to her cancer cells and told them to go away and they did. You should do that.”
“Image yourself beating this.”
As you listen to Kate’s extended family say these things to her you find yourself wincing at their self-absorbed attempts to comfort her because, well, they aren’t comforting. In fact, they fall drastically short of comforting her and are borderline offensive. I sat there wondering why they couldn’t just let her die well? Why do they have to trivialize the pain and dignity that come with death by pretending its just a matter of thinking or saying the right things? Why couldn’t they praise her for how strong and brave she had been and encourage her to keep it up as she looks death in the face? Why couldn’t they share their favorite memories about her?
Why are we so afraid of death?
And why, in our fear of death, do we find ourselves unable to offer anything more than the you-can-get-better antidotes that completely ignore what those who are suffering really need?
Christians are not exempt from this – in fact, we may be the worst offenders. You’ve heard them:
“You just need to have faith.”
“Rebuke your cancer cells in Jesus’ name and they’ll go away.”
“Imagine Jesus beating this.”
This is not hope that is being spread, friends.
Its denial, its cowardice, its fear, and its judgment – none of which helps…at all.
The truth is that we have much to learn when it comes to helping others die. Read that sentence again. You see, dying well should be just as important as living well because both require the same things: a faith in God that says whatever happens, he can be trusted; the courage to face every trial with rejoicing; love for friends as well as enemies – the list goes on.
God’s people have, by and large, been on the wrong side of this conversation.
And the only question is how long its going to take before we wake up to that reality. Because here’s the scary thing: it won’t be long before you and I are drawing our last breaths. And I hope that when that time comes, whatever the circumstances, we are given the dignity that comes with our friends and family saying those few simple words:
“I love you. Good bye. Fear not.”
Filed under: Uncategorized Tagged: | Death, Entertainment, Healing, Pain
It seems to me that in the evangelical world in which I live, move and have my being (at the present), issues of dying well are largely left out of the discussion. In the rise of triumphalism, we have made living well and living long (regardless of the ethical considerations of major medical decisions being chosen by particular people very often for cosmetic or leisure reason) the ultimate goal. Death is seen as defeat. It’s a particular theology that disallows the defeat of limits to our lives.
Therefore there is no room to talk about death and dying well. Trump card played and played solidly. And yet, in doing so, we deny the reality that prior to resurrection death must occur. “Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies…” We must enter death in order to experience resurrection- not just physically either.
And because our theology has now become so skewed in this, we make up colloquial sayings in order to “encourage” the dying… or to simply satisfy our own unrest. While we cannot discount that healing happens and that God is a God of restoration, we struggle to account for restoration that may look very very differently than what we assume.
When I worked as a chaplain we talked about these matters at great lengths, because we had to determine what was a “good death” and what was a “bad death.” This is in purely spiritual tones, but how we defined these matters came into play with how we viewed the theology of death and resurrection. For instance, my favorite patient named Bernie, suffered terribly all summer long. He was very sick. Near the end of the summer, he died. While he suffered terribly and died a long death made painless by medicine, he still died well… surrounded by the community that loved him, who passed him into the hands of God in those sacred moments, dignified, honored and cared for to the end. It was sad, deeply sad. But he died well. And his family and loved ones and me, because I loved him too, all helped him die well.
Another patient did not so well. He died apart from any community, with no one to give meaning to his life, with no one to honor his name, with no one to hold onto his hand until he grasped the hand of God (if that’s what one does when one dies- I don’t know yet). He died separated from the very things that made him most human- human community and connection and love. A community that was willing to release him to God and say the same words you say, “I love you. Good bye. Fear not.”
We must learn to teach people to die well. And in our own grief to offer them the dignity and hope of death… and wait for the resurrection.
Wow, good stuff, edenshope! You would make a good preacher!
[...] My Sister’s Keeper: A Lesson in Dying Posted on September 14, 2009 by Jesse Medina [...]