<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy would God do this to me?\u201d \u00a0My elderly hospice patient greeted me with this question as I walked into her sunny room one spring afternoon. \u00a0She repeated these same words to me several times during each of my weekly visits. \u00a0I do not think she expected an answer from me, because she always continued on with her reasoning: \u00a0\u201cI worked for the church my entire life, and this is what I get? \u00a0Everything hurts. \u00a0I am all alone. \u00a0I cannot believe that God would repay me in this way.\u201d \u00a0I gently stroked her wrinkled hand and tried to comfort her; \u201cI am so sorry you are hurting and alone. \u00a0I wish you did not have to experience this.\u201d \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I never addressed her original question, although I must have heard it at least one hundred times during the months I spent visiting her. \u00a0Years ago, I had made a pact with myself not to engage in similar queries about my own experience. \u00a0During the initial months of my illness, a dear friend asked me, \u201cWhy would this be happening to <\/span>you<\/span><\/i>?\u201d \u00a0Stunned by her question, I replied the only way that made sense to me, \u201cWhy <\/span>not<\/span><\/i> me?\u201d \u00a0Seventeen years later, this is still my reply.<\/span><\/p>\n

Thankfully, my mind has some protection coverage around this area of inquiry. \u00a0Whenever I try to connect my heart condition to any aspect of myself in a causal way, my mind grows fuzzy. \u00a0I simply cannot draw conclusions about the circumstances in which I find myself that relate to my worthiness. \u00a0And I am boundlessly grateful for this, because I have witnessed so many individuals suffering as they venture down pathways of reasoning similar to my patient\u2019s.<\/span><\/p>\n

Countless people may find this elderly woman\u2019s question na\u00efve or old-fashioned, themselves not having a conception of a higher power that chooses our fates based on how well we have served or how many sins we have committed. \u00a0\u201cWhy would God do this to me?\u201d is likely a phrase they have never considered, much less uttered aloud.<\/span><\/p>\n

Nevertheless, they may be venturing down the same path of reasoning as my patient is. \u00a0There are more sophisticated ways to ask the same question; there are different words and newer constructs that have their basis in the same sort of mindset.<\/span><\/p>\n

Recently, I gathered with a group of spiritual practitioners in order to collectively explore death and dying. \u00a0\u00a0And what I found was that people flocked to hear my death stories that endorsed our cultural dream of an easy, peaceful death and those that reified what they believed about the afterlife being a place of absolute beauty and love. \u00a0And I when I gently added, \u201cI have encountered some hellish experiences as well,\u201d people literally turned and walked away from me. \u00a0One person\u2019s reply to this statement was instructive; he said, \u201cWell, I think you were just in a lower level of consciousness during those challenging times. \u00a0If you kept your vibration high, you wouldn\u2019t experience that.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

I was taken aback, not because the sentiments he expressed were new to me, but because I had come to this event in the hopes of connecting with others who were expansive thinkers, who were willing to hold the ambiguities of life \u2013 and of death. \u00a0I was surprised to find that the general assumptions about dying were not dissimilar to those my patient held.<\/span><\/p>\n

Although the language he used was very contemporary and he believed himself to be firmly rooted in the most modern thinking, this man actually was repeating sentiments he would likely be shocked to find associated with himself. \u00a0Indeed, the message he conveyed had more in common with medieval philosophies weaving together good behavior with the reward of good death than it does with any reality I have experienced through dying and supporting others to die. \u00a0\u00a0<\/span> Equating the experiences we encounter as we die with our behavior \u2013 be it acts of sin or levels of consciousness \u2013 is harmful, painful, and in the end absolutely incorrect. \u00a0In that brief moment, this man highlighted for me one of the most harmful aspects of dying today, and it indicates to me that there is a lot of work we can do to disengage death and dying from any type of reward system altogether.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

This connection of dying experiences with past behavior occurs in various ways. \u00a0When we explain away someone\u2019s lung cancer with, \u201cBut he was a smoker, of course,\u201d or relate someone\u2019s heart disease to her particular diet, we engage in the same type of behavior. \u00a0There absolutely exist important reasons for acknowledging links between specific terminal illnesses and behavioral patterns; this can help us live healthier lives. \u00a0But living healthy lives is not a talisman against prolonged, painful illness at the end of those lives. \u00a0Each of us has heard of someone diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer without ever having taken a puff on a cigarette. \u00a0Likewise, we all know a person whose heart (or other condition) cannot be related to diet or any lifestyle choices (I am one of those persons).<\/span><\/p>\n

What concerns me about our culture\u2019s frequent overindulgence in lines of reasoning that attach behaviors with deaths of ease or with deaths of hardship is what lies beneath these types of reasoning.<\/span><\/p>\n

What lies beneath the preacher\u2019s insistence at a memorial, \u201cThe most peaceful deaths I have witnessed have been those of Christians. \u00a0In fact, I can say that no non-Christian has ever had an easy time dying in my experience\u201d?<\/span><\/p>\n

What inspires the young spiritual practitioner who assures me, \u201cI have done so much work on myself \u2013 so much that I am not afraid to die at all. \u00a0I am certain I will know when it is time for me to die. \u00a0I will just hike up into the mountains and lie down. \u00a0I will wait for a mountain lion or bear to come kill me. \u00a0It will be beautiful\u201d?<\/span><\/p>\n

These are lies. \u00a0They are fairytales.<\/span><\/p>\n

And like all fairytales they have seeds of fear woven throughout. \u00a0The fear that underlies these stories is twofold: \u00a0the dread of a painful, undignified death and the anxiety that a life has been lived incorrectly somehow.<\/span><\/p>\n

In discussions of end-of-life issues, there is often much use of the terms \u201cgood deaths\u201d and \u201cdying well\u201d. \u00a0Such terms unite these fantasy versions of the dying process with \u201cright\u201d behavior throughout life. \u00a0They create a construct in which people earn either their peaceful deaths or their struggles. \u00a0And if we change the language around a bit, all we find is sentiments that resemble what many of us may consider antiquated views of a reward and punishment system at death. <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

These assessments ultimately make of death a meritocracy. \u00a0\u00a0Perhaps it should not be surprising to find that in a culture when our actions are rewarded or punished from the earliest age there lies a belief system that also includes rewards and punishments for our actions that extend all the way to our dying days. \u00a0A culture that gifts a young girl an ice cream cone as a reward for her good grade on a test is one that will gift that same girl with an easy dying experience many decades later. \u00a0If we equate young Johnny\u2019s challenging childhood with his lack of some inherent piece of goodness as a person, we will do the same for older, dying Johnny and his challenging death.<\/span><\/p>\n

Over the past seventeen years, I have had three different journeys with death, three times when my heart failure became so acute that my other organs began to fail as well, three times when I was told to prepare myself for death. \u00a0Throughout those many months of dying, I have encountered experiences both easy and challenging; I have been in pain and have been comfortable; I have been at peace and in fear. \u00a0And none of those experiences was caused by or could be related to any of my behaviors, past or present. \u00a0My first death walk was filled with a lot of ease and peace, while my second one brought great deals of anguish and anxiety to me. \u00a0These events occurred only eighteen months apart; my character had not drastically changed, nor had I suddenly begun to engage in behaviors that would warrant me a challenging death in this system of meritocracy.<\/span><\/p>\n

However, in a culture that ingrains in us that we must work hard, have tremendous talents and skills, and behave well in order to succeed, to earn our success (whatever vision of success that may be), we may find it challenging to disengage from these meritocratic views of dying. \u00a0So perhaps it can be made more clear when we turn to animals\u2019 deaths.<\/span><\/p>\n

My family recently experienced the deaths of two of our beloved guinea pigs over the course of several months. \u00a0The first little guy, Patches, had what appeared to be a very painful dying process. \u00a0He had seizures and strokes over the course of several days; and then one morning his body contracted into a tight ball of tension as he breathed his last breath. \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

In contrast, his brother Pumpkin\u2019s death seemed much more ease-filled. \u00a0I felt his heart rate increase for a few days and noticed that he walked a bit more slowly than usual. \u00a0Then one day, he walked to the door of his cage, almost asking to be let out like a dog. \u00a0He sat next to me on the couch, under layers of quilts as I lay down for a nap next to him. \u00a0As I dozed, I dreamt of a dying guinea pig. \u00a0And later that evening, our daughter found him dead, lying on his side looking peaceful.<\/span><\/p>\n

These two different deaths are instructive on many levels. \u00a0Neither guinea pig had \u201cearned\u201d his experience. \u00a0There was no reward in the more gentle death and no punishment in the challenging one. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And although Patches seemed to be in a great deal of pain, he did not seem to suffer any more than his brother did; he did not struggle against his pain, he was not in any emotional turmoil about it, he merely experienced this. \u00a0Humans are rarely able to do this \u2013 to experience pain or discomfort without suffering. \u00a0We often add layers and layers of suffering to the pain we encounter, and much of that is created through this habit we have of connecting our experience to our behavior, our value, our worth. \u00a0When we believe that hurting bodies are some sort of penance for specific actions, the self-judgment, ridicule, and castigation can make our situation nearly unbearable.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

But here\u2019s what is absolutely true: \u00a0dying has painful parts. \u00a0Dying has parts that are undignified. \u00a0And experiencing these things does not make us bad or lacking in talent. \u00a0It makes us human.<\/span><\/p>\n

In fact, this convention our culture has of associating specific death experiences with an individual\u2019s merit has nothing to teach us about dying itself \u2013 and much to teach us about our culture.<\/span><\/p>\n

From our earliest years, most of us are taught that good or right actions warrant prizes of some sort \u2013 praise from parents, good grades at school, attention from peers. \u00a0Likewise, bad or wrong actions result in punishment of some sort, be it ridicule from parents, bad grades at school, ostracism from peers. \u00a0After living a lifetime within this system of meritocracy, it is reasonable that we would approach our dying with the same construct.<\/span><\/p>\n

However, to do so is incredibly harmful and damaging to our psyches, our bodies, our spirits. \u00a0During a time when we may benefit most from being kind and gentle to ourselves, many of us have no idea how to extricate ourselves from this merit-based system of belief.<\/span><\/p>\n

My teacher, the Franciscan friar and priest Richard Rohr, notes that:<\/span><\/p>\n

The mentality that divides the world into \u201cdeserving and undeserving\u201d has not yet experienced the absolute gratuity of grace or the undeserved character of mercy. \u00a0. . . Such people will remain inside the prison of \u201cmeritocracy,\u201d where all has to be deserved. \u00a0(to learn more about Richard Rohr\u2019s work, visit the <\/span>Center for Action and Contemplation<\/span><\/a>)<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

This prison of meritocracy exists in much of our society\u2019s relating of death experiences to specific behaviors. \u00a0And it allows no room for the grace that permeates death and dying, a grace we will see everywhere if we know how to look for it.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cWhy would God do this to me?\u201d \u00a0My elderly hospice patient greeted me with this question as I walked into her sunny room one spring afternoon. \u00a0She repeated these same words to me several times during each of my weekly visits. \u00a0I do not think she expected an answer from me, because she always continued on with her reasoning: \u00a0\u201cI worked for the church my entire life, and this is what I get? \u00a0Everything hurts. \u00a0I am all alone. \u00a0I cannot believe that God would repay me in this way.\u201d \u00a0I gently stroked her wrinkled hand and tried to comfort […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"episode_type":"","audio_file":"","cover_image":"","cover_image_id":"","duration":"","filesize":"","date_recorded":"","explicit":"","block":"","filesize_raw":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"yoast_head":"\n