From the moment we are conceived we are stalked by death.

Early hominids were caught in a constant struggle for survival. Prior to the twentieth-century, survival could not be taken for granted. A pregnant woman's life was under threat, as was that of the infant she was carrying. Invasion brought slaughter and devastation. Plagues were a constant scourge, and child mortality was high.

We remain fearful of death and dying. This is evident in our concern with heart attacks, strokes, cancer and AIDS. We are aware of the lethal potential of superbugs, and of plagues that are making a comeback. We are conscious of the possibility of trans-species infection, for which there are few antidotes. We live with the possibility of nuclear accidents, and recognize that our planet could be the target of galactic debris that could wipe us out.

While we have been able to keep death at bay more successfully than previous generations, largely because of improvements in sanitation, nutrition and medical science, we have not rid ourselves of the fear associated with death. If anything, our fear has grown. The reason for this is that, unlike our ancestors, we live with the expectation that our lives are secure, that our wellbeing is guaranteed. When tragedy strikes, it is unexpected. It is the unexpected that we fear. [117]

The fact that we cannot insulate ourselves against catastrophe has been driven home to us in recent years, as we have had to confront the fact that global warming is a reality. Weather patterns are changing, bringing suffering to many. The fact that there are no easy solutions, that we are left with a choice between two equally unpalatable alternatives, physical disaster or economic, political and social chaos, has re-stoked our fears.

The electronic media also feeds us a constant diet of violence and savagery, highlighting the atavistic, reptilian responses of those whose frustration and anger has pushed them beyond civilised exchange and moral constraints. This sort of behaviour is revealed in the carnage of war, which has witnessed the boiling over of centuries of mutual hatred.

We experience ourselves as stalked by death, however, not only because we are aware of the fragility of our human existence, but also because fear of death, of being savaged by others, or by the environment, has been built into our physiology. The history of the evolution of the species is etched into our genes.

From Birth

We are programmed for death. From the moment we are born the inevitable progress towards death begins to manifest in our bodies. When we are young we don't pay much attention to the changes. As we approach mid-life we are aware that the sun has already begun to go down.

Living the Tension

Once we begin to seriously face the issue of our dying, we discover that we are being pulled in two directions. We are [118] possessed by a lust for life, while, at the same time, we are aware that we are beginning the descent. To successfully negotiate mid-life, and to prepare for the years ahead, we must learn to live this tension.

Inadequate Approaches

Some approaches to living the tension are less than helpful.

There are those who deny that they are deteriorating. These often engage in activities designed to convince themselves that they are still young. However, the only way they can sustain this denial is by distracting, or pre-occupying ourselves. The difficulty with this approach is that we cannot outfox death. It will have the last word.

Others approach death by trying to dress it up so that it doesn't look so disfiguring, or final. The funeral industry cooperates in this exercise. The simulation of death in video and computer games has the same effect. It trivializes death by making it look unreal, temporary, or insignificant.

At the other end of the spectrum, there are those who attempt to crash through the barrier that death represents, to hurl themselves towards it as a surfer does who races down the beach and throws herself into a wave. Intended as an act of defiance, this action is really a form of capitulation. Suicide, while sometimes a courageous act, represents an opting out of the dilemma.

Attitudes Towards Death

The way we view death has a profound influence on how we cope with our mortality. [119]

Some regard death as a Grim Reaper, a cruel eventuality that will cut short their lives. Death is an enemy, rather than a friend. When death is regarded in this light, we are often haunted by the fear that death may be lurking in the shadows, preparing to mug us.

Some who regard death as an evil to be avoided associate it with judgment. The three monotheistic religions that have been deeply influenced by Zoroastrian dualism--Judaism, Christianity and Islam--take this position.

When the Hebrews emerged from captivity in Babylon, they brought with them, as part of their theological baggage, elements of Zoroastrian dualism, belief in the eternal opposition of good and evil deities, of angels and demons. They were later to be influenced by the Greek notion of Hades, an abode inhabited by disembodied spirits of the dead, who lived a phantom existence in this land of shades. When apocalyptic visions of death and destruction were substituted for prophetic denunciation, judgement was shifted from the sphere of history and projected into the future.

Christians, building on this foundation, intensified the contrast between the fate of the godly and the ungodly, between heaven and hell. Early evangelists, while arguing that Christ was the embodiment of divine Love, threatened those unwilling to accept his offer of pardon with eternal torment in the fires of hell. Throughout the following centuries, this threat was used to secure conversions.

Influenced by both Judaism and Christianity, Islam, in an atmosphere of ecological and political insecurity, seized on the theme of eternal rewards and punishments. While Allah is frequently described as the Compassionate One in the Koran, the veritable word of God for followers of the [120] Prophet, this text constantly reiterates the theme of punishment, of the gruesome fate awaiting the unbelieving, the immoral and the apostate.

Others have adopted a different attitude towards death. They have considered that it offered them a fast track to heaven.

Those who regard death in this light have willingly embraced martyrdom, for the cause of God, in preference to renouncing their faith, or as a means of accelerating their ascent to paradise. It hardly comes as a surprise that it has generally been members of the three great monotheistic faiths who have embraced this point of view.

This spirit was evident in the Maccabean revolt, which attempted to counter the Hellenizing tendencies of the Roman Empire. A number of early Christian martyrs exhibited a similar spirit, refusing offers of clemency from magistrates, who were goaded into signing their death warrants. Islamic fundamentalism preaches a similar gospel, promising young men who lose their lives in a holy Jihad that they will go directly to heaven. The latter are celebrated by their communities. The families of those considered martyrs gain respect and status.

While some regard death as the enemy, and others see it as a portal leading to paradise, others again regard death as a moment of transition in a larger process that spans many lives.

Belief in reincarnation, which views death as a point of transition in a continuing cycle of rebirths, was entertained by the ancient Greeks, and became a central tenet of Eastern religions. In Hinduism and Buddhism, death constitutes a point of transition between this life and the next [121] reincarnation, unless one has finally freed oneself from the craving, the lusting after life, that perpetuates the cycle of rebirths.

Easterners are not in a hurry to compress their aspirations into a single life. While they are concerned to escape the cycle of rebirth, and to experience oneness with reality or divinity, this desire for deliverance is not as intense as is that of religious Jews, Christians and disciples of Mohammed, who are concerned to escape the torments of an afterlife that they believe awaits the ungodly.

Finally, there are those who, while they may be troubled by the physical distress that could accompany their dying, do not regard death as a threat or a barrier. These are people who are able to live in the present, transcend the mythological elements of their religious traditions, and engage directly with the Spiritual Presence that suffuses all reality. The Greek doctrine of immortality, the Hindu notion of Atman, the Buddhist concept of Nirvana and the Christian doctrine of resurrection point to the commonality of this experience.

Facing Death

How can we best face the inevitability of our dying?

There are a number of approaches we can take.

First, we should accept opportunities to explore life's deepest issues. I remember, in my early years in high school, wondering what it would be like if I had never been born. In my imagination, I walked through my life backwards, re-entering my mother's womb. I attempted to put myself in the position of someone whose birth had never occurred, to penetrate the experience of non-existence. It is by following [122] through on these existential ruminations, by exploring issues associated with the contingency of human existence, that we begin to explore our mortality.

It is also important for us to linger with observations about death, observations prompted by our exposure to tragedy, either first hand, or through the media. Buddhist tradition argues that it was when Siddhartha Gautama encountered the decrepit, the suffering and the dying that he set out in pursuit of enlightenment. The preacher of the book of Ecclesiastes suggested that we should remember our creator in the days of our youth before the onset of old age, when it will be too late for our observations to have any positive benefit. Jesus suggested that it was important for him to do the work for which he had been commissioned, for the night was coming when he would no longer be able to work. Death was to intervene and cut his life short.³⁹

There are Buddhist meditative practices, focused on the dissolution and putrefaction of the human body, which are designed to confront the person meditating, in a startling fashion, with their mortality. For centuries, Christian preachers used graphic depictions of deathbed scenes to challenge those listening to face up to the fact that they would one day die, and pointed out to them that the way they faced death would be a reflection of how they had lived.

Another way of coming to terms with death, and learning how to confront it with dignity, is to spend time with people who are staring death in the face. We can observe the contrast between those who have put off coming to terms with death, and others, whose lives have been enriched because they faced their mortality early. The latter are wise, compassionate, accepting, rather than resentful. We will also be confronted by those whose lives have been cut short by [123] disease or accident. These will teach us that there is no guarantee that we will live to a ripe old age. They will help us appreciate the fragility of life, and the importance of making the best of our opportunities and of living generously, with an eye to the interests of others. Spending time with the dying will help us realise that the most important thing we will leave behind is what we have contributed to others--our affirmation, our support, our encouragement, our honesty, our open-heartedness, and our commitment to their welfare.

It is not beyond the bounds of possibility that our most effective teachers will be the young, who have been forced to face death before they have lived. We will notice that some have had their development accelerated to such a degree that we marvel at their wisdom and capacity for relinquishment, at their maturity.

We can prepare for death, for the final episode, by learning to negotiate "little deaths--increasing physical limitations, the death of our friends, and the progressive curtailment of our activities and opportunities. At the Spiritual level, these "little deaths" may involve a relinquishment of our attachment to things, ambitions, attitudes, even relationships. The "little deaths" help prepare us for the finale.

If we have never discovered who we are, never earthed ourselves, it will be difficult for us to make the final surrender, because there will be nothing substantial to surrender. If, on the other hand, we are earthed in the deeper levels of the self, relinquishment will be a deliberate process, prepared for by the "little deaths" that have been part of our growing. As this growth will be measured by the ease with which we are able to flow with life, to ride the currents of the Spirit, the more we have learned to trust ourselves to the Grace that carries us forward, the more natural will it be for us to flow with it, to surrender to it, in the culminating moment. [123]

[ROI 117-123]