It seems a long time ago that I turned 70, in fact nearly ten years ago now, but since then I find myself thinking about death far more often.
Will this be the last time I change the car? Maybe this is the last suit I will buy. I don’t think I will be visiting Scotland again. Then there are all those funerals I seem to have to attend: one a month in 2017. Whereas for most of my life death has been a taboo subject for conversation, suddenly I discover that interest in the subject is much more widespread.
Accordingly, in the summer of 2018 I went into my favourite secular bookshop, an independent bookseller in Sidmouth. Heading straight for the ‘New Releases’ table, I was surprised to find an array of books about death and dying. Evidently the publishing world considered this a subject of topical interest too. Had society at last come to realise that this is something to be faced rather than feared? I had to find out...
Book 1
All That Remains: A Life in Death, written by Dame Sue Black, reflects on her life as a foremost forensic anthropologist. She has spent her professional career reconstructing the lives of people who have died by examining and identifying their remains. It is both a fascinating and at times chilling account of what can be learned from a corpse. What I found curious about this book was the deep respect for a dead body shown by those who study cadavers, a regard for which no reasonable explanation is given. Perhaps this reflects an underlying Christian view rather than an evolutionary perspective. Nevertheless, her compassion for humanity weakens when she comments on assisted suicide and talks of human rights and self-determination.
Book 2
Dr Kathryn Mannix is a consultant in palliative medicine and a therapist in Cognitive Behaviour Therapy who has worked for many years in hospices. In With the End in Mind: Dying, Death and Wisdom in an Age of Denial she shares stories of many of her past patients. It is a compassionate and compelling story, as she tells of the support individuals and family members required with the approach of death. Indeed, this would be a very useful book for those who pastor congregations of elderly people.
While no two stories are the same, it is illuminating to read how there are patterns in the ‘process’ of dying. Being aware of these can diffuse fear and quell anxiety for both the dying and those close to them. Incidentally, there is a story about the disturbing impact on the practice of medicine in a country where euthanasia has been legalised.
Book 3
The strangest of these books on death is The Darker the Night the Brighter the Stars: a Neuropsychologist’s Odyssey by Paul Broks. This is not, as he warns, ‘a conventional book’. Rather it is a mix of memoir, case studies and reflections of ‘life, death and the mind’. At times it is fact. At times it is fiction. Sometimes it is plain fantasy. The reader is left to discern! His spark for writing was the terminal illness and death of his wife from cancer. Broks dismisses religion, seeks to understand consciousness and imagines a discussion with C S Lewis. He regards hope as useless. Indeed he believes that only hopelessness will get you through. While at times it feigns humour, it is a bleak read.
Book 4
Every Third Thought by Robert McCrum also piqued my curiosity with its intriguing title – a quote from Shakespeare – and its subtitle, On Life, Death and the Endgame. McCrum, former literary editor of The Observer, suffered a devastating stroke in his early 40s. This triggered his determination to discover whether his heightened awareness of his mortality was shared by others. Much of the book is devoted to elegant accounts of conversations with a diverse range of people, from a neurosurgeon to a comedian – Clive James, no less. The only Christian among them thought that no Christian now believes in heaven or hell! He reflects also on characters in literature, including Tolstoy and a 15th-century friar.
By the end of his research he arrives at his point of departure, convinced that there is no God, no soul and no afterlife. He calls us to live in the ‘nowness of things’. Enjoy old age; make the most of the day. His beautiful writing serves only to dress despair with elegance. It is still despair.
Book 5
For a bracing read, try Natural Causes: Life, Death and the Illusion of Control by Barbara Ehrenreich. She is a cell biologist and science journalist prepared to challenge conventional wisdom – and to do so with verve. There is nothing gentle or tactful about her approach! I don’t imagine she is very popular in the medical profession.
Ehrenreich challenges the way medical science seeks to retain power over us, keeping us in respectful subservience. She is blistering about unnecessarily humiliating procedures carried out on the false premise that they are beneficial when there is no evidence that this is so. She also trains her sights on the ‘wellness’ culture, the unproven benefits of therapies like mindfulness, and the assumption that we can and should extend our lives indefinitely. She takes aim at the narcissism of our dedication to the ‘self ’. The universe can manage without us.
Her goal is not to give us hope, but to make us more honest. And why fear death? ‘Life is an interruption in an eternity of non-existence.’ Far from fearing death we should accept that we will once again be absorbed into the living universe.
Book 6
There was only one book on that bookshop’s table that held any prospect of a Christian perspective. It was written by the retired Bishop of Edinburgh, Richard Holloway. Waiting for the Last Bus: Reflections on Life and Death. Already an established and popular writer – this is his 30th book – Holloway can always be relied on to be interesting and elegant. I might even have enjoyed it were it not for the fact that it was no different from the previous five books: it offers no sure and certain hope. Rather Holloway shares the doubts which have dominated his writing throughout his career, even expressing uncertainty about the existence of God. As a result all he offers, in admittedly beautiful prose, is encouragement to live gratefully, to be reconciled to others and to be honest with yourself.
Books 7 and 8
However, along the way a friend sent me a copy of a new self-published commentary, Are we Nearly There Yet? by David Bracewell. It aims to be a ‘big theme’ survey of the book of Revelation and I found this really helpful.
Moreover, there is John Wyatt’s excellent book Dying Well, Dying Faithfully. What a relief it was to turn to such books after the depressing escapism that our culture still uses to face the reality of death. Wyatt, in particular, offers practical and biblical counsel to strengthen us and to empower us to strengthen others.
Death, and the desire to be in control, haunts our present-day culture as much as it has ever done. We who are God’s people are called to offer hope to the dying by sharing the gospel of life through Jesus. And before you say you don’t know anyone who is dying, let me remind you: you don’t know anyone who is not dying! The death rate, as Kathryn Mannix observes, currently stands at 100%.