The COVID-19 pandemic has certainly confronted us in a brutal way with our mortality.  It’s the first time any of us have been confronted by the stark reality of mass deaths on our TV screens and in the newspapers.   We’ve become painfully aware that for too many people COVID-19 is terminal.  I think too of some of the images that the media have bombarded us with almost daily.  Most confronting of course are the daily grim statistics from all around the world with the total figure worldwide now approaching a quarter of a million casualties—that’s more than the whole population of Hobart wiped out in a matter of weeks.  The images in the media from overseas of the mass graves and the rows and rows of coffins remain vividly imprinted on our memories.

Interestingly, all of this for us in the west, is happening in a society where death is still the unmentionable subject.  If you doubt that just try bringing up the subject at the next family gathering.  Chances are that you’ll be totally ignored or howled down for being morbid.  Or just think of the euphemisms we use for death.  We rarely say that someone died.  No!  They passed away.  Perhaps the present pandemic may help us be a little more open about the reality of our mortality.

With all of that in mind let me share with you some lessons I learnt from a death in a congregation that I served some years ago.  Us older people especially need to heed the lessons—although younger people are not immune to death.  Those who are younger may have elderly parents and you may need to give them permission at some stage to talk about that inevitable event at the end of all our lives.

I had gone away on annual leave one summer knowing that Garry was not real well.  He was in his mid-seventies and his earlier years of battling alcoholism had left him with a legacy.  On returning from holidays I visited Garry and was shocked at how his health had deteriorated during my three weeks away.  He was obviously a very sick man.  We chatted together about the recent death of his sister and his own battle with failing health.  I asked him to sort out a few things like, who would he want us to contact if anything happened to him and who could be given ‘power of attorney’.  Garry agreed that it was time to look into these matters and he did… to begin with.  One of our church folk was asked to take on ‘power of attorney’, to make decisions for Garry if he should no longer be able to do so himself.  Regrettably, in the middle of the arrangements Garry decided to leave it “until he got better” – he never did.  The Lord very shortly afterwards took him to that better place.  But the circumstances of his death left some lessons.

First: One might argue that in Garry’s case such things as a will and the ‘power of attorney’ were not so important since this elderly bachelor had little in worldly goods.  However there are still problems with knowing what to do with assets and how to dispose of personal effects.  That becomes much more serious when there are substantial assets.  If there is no will the estate is frozen and it then becomes the concern of the public trustee.  So, have you made out a will?

Second: a more serious problem arose in Garry’s case.  On the night before his death I watched the hospital staff go to extraordinary lengths to keep Garry alive when he was so obviously dying.  With bodily functions all breaking down, they put him through a dialysis process to do the work that his kidneys were no longer able to do.  In the early hours of the next morning he was even opened up for surgery but he died soon after.  A couple who were close friends of Garry’s and who had been closely involved in the last few days of his life, asked the staff several times whether it was really necessary to put the man though all this.  Why not let him die with some peace and dignity?  The question was then asked whether they were ‘next of kin’ or whether they had power of attorney.  Since neither was the case the hospital decided that they had to keep doing all they could to keep Garry alive.

While I appreciate the hospital’s thoroughness I also wonder why they continued with such extraordinary efforts for so long.  Was it a genuine concern for the patient?  Was it a fear that someone might sue them if they didn’t do all they could?  Were the medicos trying to prove the power of medicine to keep someone alive?  Were they treating the patient as a guinea pig (in a teaching hospital!) to see what might still work in his case?  I don’t know the answer but I do know that in corresponding circumstances I would have wanted to be left alone to die with dignity.

We can take two precautions.  We can make clear to family members what we want.  Certainly, we would love to have medical people do all they can to keep us alive… up to a point.  We who know that there is a better life waiting for us would also want to say that there comes a time when enough is enough – especially when we are already well advanced in age.  Another option is to make out what is called a ‘living will’ in which we, who have the hope of eternal life, spell out that we do not wish to be kept alive artificially.

A third lesson and an even more important lesson is that we all need to face reality.  All of us are going to die.  There comes a time for all of us when we are not going to get well again.  Don’t shrug these things off, talk about them; because the time will come when it will be too late.  I’ve always appreciated it when some of my elderly parishioners have passed me an envelope containing hymns and Bible readings that they would love to have used at their funeral and/or thanksgiving service.  That can be a powerful witness to family and friends.  We who belong to Christ not only need to live well, we also need to die well.

John Westendorp