Live like you’re dying

Have you heard of death doulas?  You may have heard of doulas—it’s the Greek word for slave or servant—though in our culture we use the term doula to refer to people accompanying a birth of a child.  A doula helps as an advocate for the mother-to-be, to assist her through the process of labor and the first stages of parenthood.  As a doula accompanies a birth, a death doula accompanies a person who is dying, assisting them through the end stages of their life. 

I saw a quote from a death doula, Britna Savarese, who says:

“It’s crucial to talk about [death], because it is one of the only things we will all do.  No matter where we’re from, no matter how we were raised, we’re all going to die.  And there’s just no reason not to talk about it.  People feel like if they discuss it, they’re going to manifest it somehow.  They’re all of a sudden going to find out they’re terminal because they had a conversation about death the day before.  And it just doesn’t work like that.”[1] 

Which is good to know.  We all know we’ll die…someday.  But it’s generally easy to put that thought aside and focus on the next project or interest.  Sometimes we avoid the thought of our mortality so much that we avoid speaking of or even thinking of people who have died, people we have loved and who have loved us.  We might be so afraid of death that we’ll avoid our friends or family who are dying, because we don’t know what to say, or we feel awkward. 

If we’re spending our time avoiding death, we’ll also miss out on so much of the richness of life. 

All Saints’ Sunday arrives every year to correct our fears about death, to remember the lives of the saints, and to “perceive…the hope to which [God] has called” us.  Because if there’s anything we should be able to do as followers of Jesus, who died and rose again, shouldn’t we be able to release our fears about death enough to speak practically about it? 

This is the ethic of Margareta Magnusson’s book “The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning”—considering the family members who will have to deal with the stuff you’ve accumulated in life. In her foreword written to the reader, Magnusson writes, “Let me help make your loved ones’ memories of you nice—instead of awful.”  Her advice is down-to-earth and practical, with a sense of humor—all of which are values that have been handed down in this Lutheran congregation built by Swedish immigrants over 130 years ago.  

You may recognize parts of this culture—whether you happen to be of Swedish origin or not—because this is what we’ve inherited from our ancestors, which carried the faith in God that sustains us still.  The writer of Ephesians encourages believers by praying for them to recognize “the riches of [God’s] glorious inheritance among the saints.”  We come to this inheritance not by way of birth but by baptism—we all become part of this family because God makes us brothers and sisters and siblings of one another. 

Some of our family members have died, and they become part of the communion of the saints, which makes up part of the eternal body of Christ that stretches across time and space.  The Holy Spirit connects us, in the mystery of God’s grace, between those who have died and those who are still living.  Our true inheritance comes from Jesus, who gives us eternal life and sets us free from sin and fear and all the things that would clutter our lives and distract us from our purpose in life. 

Jesus didn’t spend all his time talking about death and the afterlife, but he wasn’t afraid of it either.  Jesus knew how to live like he was dying, not wasting a moment.  Jesus remained focused on life and the people living in difficult circumstances, people without hope, people without food. 

In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus delivers “the sermon on the plain,” where he’s seated on the ground and looking up at his disciples—did you notice that detail in the Gospel lesson?  Jesus could not be more literally “down-to-earth” than by sitting on the ground and asking the rest of us to pay attention. 

So in that spirit of earthy teaching, I want to read a translation of this Gospel lesson, which comes from “The Message” translation by Eugene Peterson, which sounds more like the way we speak to each other these days.  How do these words sound different or stick in your mind?  How can you show up for life, unafraid to speak of or acknowledge death?  How can you live like you’re dying, embracing this world and treasuring the moment? 

Hear these words from Jesus, eternal wisdom rendered in down-to-earth advice:

“You are blessed when you’ve lost it all.  God’s kingdom is there for the finding.

You’re blessed when you’re ravenously hungry.  Then you’re ready for the Messianic meal.

You’re blessed when the tears flow freely.  Joy comes with the morning.

Count yourself blessed every time someone cuts you down or throws you out, every time someone smears or blackens your name to discredit me.  What it means is that the truth is too close for comfort and that that person is uncomfortable.  You can be glad when that happens—skip like a lamb, if you like!—for even though they don’t like it, I do…and all heaven applauds.  And know that you are in good company; my preachers and witnesses have always been treated like this.

But it’s big trouble ahead if you think you have it made.  What you have is all you’ll ever get.

And it’s trouble ahead if you’re satisfied with yourself.  Your self will not satisfy you for long. 

And it’s trouble ahead if you think life’s all fun and games.  There’s suffering to be met, and you’re going to meet it.

There’s trouble ahead when you live only for the approval of others, saying what flatters them, doing what indulges them.  Popularity contests are not truth contests—look how many scoundrel preachers were approved by your ancestors!  Your task is to be true, not popular.

To you who are ready for the truth, I say this: Love your enemies.  Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst.  When someone gives you a hard time, respond with the energies of prayer for that person.  If someone slaps you in the face, stand there and take it.  If someone grabs your shirt, giftwrap your best coat and make a present of it.  If someone takes unfair advantage of you, use the occasion to practice the servant life.  No more tit-for-tat stuff.  Live generously. 

Here is a simple rule of thumb for behavior: ask yourself what you want people to do for you, then grab the initiative and do it for them!  If you only love the lovable, do you expect a pat on the back?  Run-of-the-mill sinners do that.  If you only help those who help you, do you expect a medal?  Garden-variety sinners do that.  If you only give for what you hope to get out of it, do you think that’s charity?  The stingiest of pawnbrokers does that.

I tell you, love your enemies.  Help and give without expecting a return.  You’ll never—I promise—regret it.  Live out this God-created identity the way our Father lives toward us, generously and graciously, even when we’re at our worst.  Our Father is kind; you be kind. 

Don’t pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults—unless, of course, you want the same treatment.  Don’t condemn those who are down; that hardness can boomerang.  Be easy on people; you’ll find life a lot easier.  Give away your life; you’ll find life given back, but not merely given back—given back with bonus and blessing. 

Giving, not getting, is the way.  Generosity begets generosity.”[2]

Amen.

Pastor Cheryl

[1] S. Holland Murphy, “End-of-Life Doulas, Death Cafes, and Free Cake: The death positivity movement has finally come for the Grim Reaper,” D Magazine, November 2024, page 61. 

[2] Luke 6: 20-38, The Message by Eugene Peterson.