Care, love and grace through assisted death
Whether endings are planned or unexpected, every life — and death — is spiritual
I remain uncertain about the new reality of assisted dying in Canada. It is not as clear cut an issue for me as it is for others
Sally’s voice quivered on the phone as she spoke. Months earlier, Sally’s 57-year-old son, James, had been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumour. Estimates were that he might live up to one year. I had been supporting Sally on this journey. Even so, I wasn’t prepared for her question: “Could you come to be with us? Tomorrow at six o’clock has been set as the time for James to die. Could you come?”
Since Bill C-14 was passed by Parliament one year ago today — paving the way for legalized assisted dying in Canada — I have wondered when, not if, such a call would come. As a minister, I have sat with dozens of people at the end of life. But this was a first. Would the “old standby” readings, prayers and blessings suffice now? What would I say and do?
I Googled “prayers for assisted deaths,” hoping to discover new wisdom. Instead, invitations from faith groups to attend rallies protesting assisted dying appeared. If the devastating illnesses that accelerate the option of assisted dying for people in the first place aren’t enough, many of these same individuals wrestle with what their faith traditions say concerning their choice.
The religious reasons are strenuously articulated: It’s not “biblical.” We have no business “playing God.” Human life is sacred. They are the same arguments that have been used concerning social issues by some faith groups for generations. Divorce, abortion and same-sex marriage come to mind.
No, assisted dying is not “biblical” because many of today’s issues were simply not part of life 2,000 or 5,000 years ago. I suppose we have “played God” for generations in a host of ways — the use of medication, the withdrawal of freedom and liberty in the criminal justice system, the fertilization of crops. But while some call it “playing God,” others say it is exercising God’s gift of free will. And, if human life is sacred, why do some people condone capital punishment or military action even as they condemn assisted dying? Is there a gradation of the value of human lives?
When Sally’s call came, however, none of these questions mattered. All that mattered was Sally, James, and the family.
I arrived at 5:30 p.m. James was in bed, surrounded by his siblings, his children, his beloved wife and, of course, his mother.
The ensuing minutes felt like a strange dichotomy of waiting for the unknown while at the same time preparing for the death that had been planned. James was joking and smiling. Others tried to mirror his good spirits while fighting back tears.
Shortly after 6, the doctor arrived. She cradled a large package of materials under her arm — the equipment and potions needed to conduct “the deed.” She set up in the powder room while James and the family shared final stories and memories. His favourite music played in the background.
We blessed James using the same ancient prayers that have accompanied countless faithful to the great unknown. It felt like many end-of-life situations in which I have shared. The important spiritual resources one can offer are presence, care, love and grace. Apart from the planned prayers and blessings, the most helpful words spoken seem to naturally take their cues from the needs of those gathered. Silence often speaks louder than sound.
In the span of about 15 minutes, James went from laughing and joking, to sharing words of farewell, to a deep sleep, to loss of consciousness and, finally, to the gradual cessation of the heart’s beat. At 7:20 p.m., the doctor pronounced, “He has passed away.”
It was one of the most profoundly meaningful endings I’ve ever witnessed. And yet, I remain uncertain about the new reality of assisted dying in Canada. It is not as clear cut an issue for me as it is for others. How I feel seems to differ from what I think.
But it was Sally who called. And because Sally called, spiritual experience trumped any questions of religion or belief. Was it a spiritual experience? Absolutely. Was something or someone beyond ourselves present that night? Yes, indeed. For even amid the best laid plans, there is always some element of mystery.
Whether endings are sudden or prolonged, planned or unexpected, calm or violent, so often they are surrounded by a peace which passes all understanding. This is what makes every life — and every death — a spiritual matter.