Assisted dying?

 

To me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. Philippians 1:21

Jesus said, Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me… I will come back and take you to be with me so that you also may be where I am. John 14:1-3

My little world has been rather full of death recently, or the close threat of it: friends and loved ones dying or very ill; well-known figures suddenly taken; even watching the latest episodes of the Thomas Cromwell series; and then, just as if to rub it in, along comes the parliamentary debate on “assisted dying”.

So what’s new there, then? Of course, not much at all; we live in close company with death every minute of every day. But somehow, as we say, “it really comes home to you”, doesn’t it? Suddenly, as you look at yourself, you realise that death is no longer something that only happens to other people…

Whatever our view might be on assisted dying, we who call ourselves Christians need to take positive steps to ensure that we don’t let ourselves get sucked into the gloominess that characterises many of those who, as Paul puts it, “have no hope” (1Thessalonians 4:13).

Reflecting on Paul’s great declaration in Philippians 1:21 is as good a  safeguard against this danger as we are likely to find: “to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain” - a mere nine words in his original Greek, while the English NIV translation takes it up to eleven. But what luminous, glowing  words!

Why don’t we know Philippians 1:21 better? Why don’t we put it on a par with John 3:16 or 1 Corinthians 13 as one of the best-known passages in the Bible? If what Paul says is true for himself, why shouldn’t it be true also for us whose hope is in Christ? And if it is indeed true for us, isn’t it something worth celebrating rather than just tucking away at the back of our minds as a distant, even rather theoretical, hope? It chimes in perfectly with the promise Jesus gave to his nervous, “troubled”, disciples in John 14:3.

Please don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean to make light of death - far from it. Death may be defeated in Christ, but according to 1 Corinthians 15:26, it is still an “enemy” (though, let’s note, “the last enemy”). But I am very grateful that Luke, writing Acts, chose to describe honestly the funeral of Stephen in chapter 8 verses 1-3 - those “godly men” who buried him were not ashamed or embarrassed to “mourn deeply for him”. No shallow, false bravado there!

I think of a fine Christian man I once knew who was diagnosed with terminal illness in, I think, his middle twenties. He seemed to be determined to, as it were, not let the side down, so that, even though he had a wife and small children and much else to live for, he seemed to put on a permanent display of unremitting cheerfulness. It came across as  unnatural, and must have been an unhealthy strain on him. One longed to give him permission to relax and be his true self!

Going back to 1 Thessalonians 4:13… the point Paul is making is clear: the fact that we don’t grieve “as those who have no hope” doesn’t mean that we don’t grieve full stop. Of course we do. Grief is the price you pay for love; or, putting it another way, if you don’t love you don’t grieve. Which would we prefer?

So, what should we think about assisted dying?

I imagine that most Christians would accept it only with great hesitation – surely it is for God alone to give and take life, and all sorts of safeguards are needed? That is certainly my instinctive reaction. But as the present debates are demonstrating, perhaps it isn’t totally clear-cut. However strongly we may feel, it is our duty to listen respectfully to those who see things differently, especially if we are reasonably content with our earthly lot; after all, it’s easy enough for us to hold that black-and-white line, isn’t it?

One factor that influences me is very simple – in general, we are living far longer than we used to a hundred or even just fifty years ago, thanks to the wonderful advances in medical science. But sometimes the question arises, May not death be preferable? What’s the point of staying alive if one’s “quality of life” has drained away? The Victorian poet A H Clough wrote, "Thou shalt not kill; but needst not strive officiously to keep alive”, and I suspect that many if not the majority of people probably agree with that.

Another poet, John Keats (who died aged 25), wrote of being “half in love with easeful Death”, adding these very powerful words: “Now more than ever seems it rich to die,/ To cease upon the midnight with no pain…”. By this he presumably meant “to die quietly in my sleep” – and, yes, what many of us fear most is the possible suffering we may have to go through, and, of course, the pain and trouble our loved ones also have to go through.

Assisted dying is a serious and delicate topic for debate. But if we belong to the risen Christ we have a wonderful lesson to teach our loved ones and neighbours – better still, in fact, a wonderful example to set, focussing on the resurrection story of Jesus and the promise he gave his disciples.

Christian, learn to echo the apostle Paul: “… to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain”.

Father in heaven, just as I attempt to live as a witness for you, please help me too to preach the good news of Jesus by the manner of my dying when that time comes. Amen.