Continuing Education—October 2011
Medical Issues and Spirituality
By Rev. Susan Schultz, Stephentown, NY
Dying is the most spiritual thing we do.
With the possible exception of birth, which we don’t remember, dying is the most human, most universal and most profound, conscious spiritual experience we can have. Whatever our theology or dogma, death makes it personal.
I was asked to write about how my faith has impacted my ministry as a Hospice Chaplain, and I must admit that it has been the other way around. Being with those who are dying has expanded my vision and understanding of what faith is all about. And … (cover your ears if you are easily threatened) … I have learned that on the deathbed, dogma means almost nothing. The questions which people ask are about whether or not their lives have meaning, what legacy they leave behind, what it will be like on the other side.
The congregation I serve does not gather in a church; they are in their homes. Since I cover all of Rensselaer County, they may be rich or poor, city or country, farmers, university professors or unemployed, dedicated church members or unchurched, believers, agnostic or atheist, old or—yes—young. Some very young.
What they have in common is that they are facing the great unknown. They are losing everything they own, everyone they know, and so they are left with only the essential questions: “Who am I, and what happens after my body dies?”
How does one minister to the dying? Be present. That’s it.
My ministry has taught me to let go of my need to “fix” things. There is no fixing this, and it should not be fixed, anyway. Death is a natural occurrence in the life cycle. Our culture is not happy with that reality, and for many years has ignored or denied death. Now the Hospice philosophy is helping people reclaim death just as we reclaimed birth in the 70s: it belongs to the person who is having the experience, not to the medical community. The family deserves to be involved, and the dying person has a right to dignity and comfort.
Spiritually this means providing a person the opportunity to explore questions without fear of being judged or proselytized. Just as a midwife attends birth, encouraging, comforting, being the presence of calm, so do we attend the “birth out of the body.” We admit that we cannot take away sorrow, but we commit to being present with them in it.
Certainly, for those who hold a strong faith in a particular tradition, familiar prayers or hymns provide comfort and a reminder of where their hope lies. In order to provide this comfort, I have had to become familiar with the holy writings, music and end-of-life theologies and practices of many faiths. This in itself has been a blessing, as it has shown me how much we have in common, and how, as humans, we seek to explain what we cannot understand. It has also taught me that, in the end, it cannot be explained; in the end we step off the edge of life into the arms of Mystery.
Hospice ministry allows us the profound awe of being embraced by that Mystery. It is there that I have also learned that there is another common experience in dying that transcends theology, race, age, class or understanding. What in the past we called “hallucination” or “coma,” is really part of the spiritual process. Those who are dying see beloved relatives who have gone before them. They seem to be traveling back and forth between the worlds, getting glimpses of what is ahead. And, no matter what one’s life has been like, this vision gives comfort; that, in turn, comforts the living who observe the patient. This has taught me that there is a world awaiting us that is not nearly as far away as some may think, and that we are fools to judge what any person’s afterlife experience might be, no matter who they are or how they might have lived.
In short, being with the dying has taught me to let go of everything I thought I knew. My faith has been challenged, stretched, pulled open, shaken, lifted to the level of complete abandonment to Mystery.
And I believe. I hope. I give thanks.
(originally published in Presbyterian Connection, January/February 2001, reprinted with permission of the author)