Sunday, October 22, 2006

Dust in the Wind

(I realize this is a decidedly uncheerful topic. I promise to not only make the next post more cheerful, but also to start it with a knock-knock joke as a bit of compensation.)

During a terminally ill patient’s less lucid moments, he’d reach his arms up to the ceiling, ignoring everyone around him, the nurse at the head of the table explained. Eventually, when he was awake, he informed his family that he was reaching up to god and that they shouldn’t disturb him during these moments. Everyone around the table nodded approvingly. The nurse recounted another story, where a staff member’s grandfather, “a very bad man”, started yelling that his feet were burning as he lay dying in his hospital bed. Everyone around the table gasped and looked properly horrified. We all had ours stories to tell, of inspiring or scary end of life experiences, and everyone was able to happily file away the information as further evidence of the afterlife planned by a Christian god.

Well, everyone except me.

I’m five weeks into a seven week training program for a local non-profit Hospice and, as the only atheist (actually, as the only non-Christian), periodically find myself squirming in my seat in the unable-to-identify-yet-unwilling-to-dissent sort of uncomfortable that comes from being part of an often distrusted minority. My New Year’s resolution of this year was to be more outspoken, and one of the ways I’ve attempted to do so is by being more open about my lack-of-theism. However, sitting around that table, I was entirely uncomfortable with the idea of expressing my own interpretations of those stories and I instead just squirmed silently.

I can’t think of a moment where atheism is more of a challenge to a Christian belief system than when it comes to death and the concept of an afterlife. When considering heaven and hell, Christians can’t brush us off as just a misinterpretation, as they might other varieties of Christianity, Judaism, or even less related religions, such as Islam or Hinduism. Atheism isn’t just another version of theism, but instead a direct rejection of the biblical idea of the afterlife. This is a touchy subject when it comes to loved ones who people desperately want to believe “live on.”

I’m not scared of death. Certainly, I’m in favor of living. However, the thought of slipping into an unknown doesn’t terrify me; it just gives me incentive to live more deeply and savor the time I do have. I’m okay with not knowing what might come after death, even if, as I think is likely, it’s nothing at all. It’s a question that I’m willing to leave unanswered, for the moment at least. Deciding whether to be vocal when others come up with answers that I find implausible? Now, that’s more of an immediate challenge.

I think that after I move past the training and into the volunteering itself, it should be less complicated. My goal is to be a Hospice volunteer specifically for nonreligious families, because I think the end of life concerns and questions are a bit different. It would perhaps be a bit easier for a terminally-ill freethinker to talk about this with a fellow freethinker rather than even a well-intentioned believer.

My questions to you: as atheists, what are your views towards death and dying? Do you feel the end of life issues and inquiries are different for an atheist than for a believer? How can we provide support to terminally-ill atheists? Finally, have you had situations where you’ve discussed dying with theists? How have you handled these discussions? I’d appreciate any input.

(cross posted at The Atheist Mama)