I attended a conference in Stockbridge, Ga., last week, sponsored by the College of Pastoral Supervision and Psychotherapy. The subject of the conference was “caregiver care.” To my surprise, a good deal of the subject matter dealt with death. Not death in general, or the death of others, but our death — in my case, my death.
In one group exercise, we were asked to imagine ourselves at home, in our favorite chair or place, surrounded by family and friends. Then we were to “fade out” and imagine ourselves gone from the scene. Imagine that we had died. Now, what did we see? How were our friends and family reacting? Our thoughts were then shared and explored. It was not a comfortable exercise.
Later, in a small group, the leader said that the five leading causes of death in America were:
Heart disease
Cancer
Lung disease
Accidents
Strokes
We were then asked to choose our preferred death from the list. It was another uncomfortable exercise.
My father and maternal grandfather died of cancer. My mother died of lung-related issues as did my paternal grandmother. My good friend and bishop took seven years to die of a debilitating stroke. My maternal grandmother had a heart attack before my eyes and died within minutes in her home. My paternal grandfather died of heart disease. I have had good friends die of accidents over the years. None of the options looked attractive to me.
One man at the conference said he wanted to die in his bed in his sleep. The leader said that only about 11 percent of people will die that way, so good luck with that. In an effort to lighten the mood, the man said, “Then I want to go in the Rapture when Jesus comes!” Everyone laughed, which was a good thing. By that time we needed some humor.
For my part, I do not particularly fear death. On at least three occasions over the years I thought my own death was imminent. Once, I thought I was having a stroke, which turned out to be the beginning of my first severe migraine. Another was a car accident in which I thought my life was over. Once was in Africa when I thought I had fallen into the hands of Jihadists. Thankfully, that turned out not to be so. The method or means of dying is another matter. I don’t think about it and do not want to.
I suppose my thinking is that whatever happens will happen when it happens. I can do little to influence my dying unless I engage in risky behaviors. I don’t smoke and never have. I don’t do drugs. I don’t drink except at Holy Communion and at an occasional special event. I do eat too much and exercise too little. I think about life and I sometimes think about what lies beyond this life. I do not think about the way I will die.
Orthodox monks are known to pray “for a good and peaceable death.” It seems a good prayer to pray. I will pray for that, too. If it is going to be otherwise, I don’t want to know about it now.
[David Epps is the pastor of Christ the King Church, Sharpsburg, GA (www.ctkcec.org). He is the bishop of the Mid-South Diocese which consists of Georgia and Tennessee (www.midsouthdiocese.org) and the Associate Endorser for the Department of the Armed Forces, U. S. Military Chaplains, ICCEC. He may be contacted at frepps@ctkcec.org.]
