How Religions Deal with Death 
Wendy Dennis (lay led)
UU Church of Wakefield
October 31, 2004

Opening Words by  Edna St. Vincent Millay
Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

How Religions Deal with Death…Now…There is a weighty and enormous topic!  Let me start by stating that I will not be presenting in-depth coverage of this subject here today.  In fact, a more accurate title would be something like: What can we learn from some of the insights and teachings offered by different organized religions, and the personal experience and spiritual paths of others, that may help us deal with death?  But, I didn't want to put Eric Reid over the edge when he was putting the sermon title on the sign out front last week.  I suspect he would have run out of letters…

Actually, I didn't know exactly where I would go with my thoughts, so I picked a title comprehensive enough to have at least some relationship with the final focus of my talk.  

I knew, of course, that the topic would relate to death in some way.  This is the Sunday when, each year, we create a wonderful sacred space in which to remember and honor those beloved by us who have died.  As is common in UU congregations, we have drawn upon the beliefs and practices of various religions and created our own holy ritual.  

For example, this is the time of year when many following the European-based pagan religions believe that the veil between the worlds is most thin.  It is believed to be a time when contact with those who have moved on to another dimension is possible.  

It is also, of course, the time of year when some Christian religions celebrate All Hallow's Eve, All Saints Day, and All Souls Day – holidays inspired by the original pagan belief about this time of year. 

And, one of the more colorful celebrations from which we draw is the Mexican Day of the Dead.  To quote Dale Hoyt Palfrey from the mexconnect.com website:  

"November 1, All Saints Day, and November 2, All Souls Day are marked throughout Mexico by a plethora of intriguing customs that vary widely according to the ethnic roots of each region. Common to all, however, are colorful adornments and lively reunions at family burial plots, the preparation of special foods, offerings laid out for the departed on commemorative altars and religious rites that are likely to include noisy fireworks.  [And, something I didn't know:]

In most localities November 1 is set aside for remembrance of deceased infants and children, often referred to as angelitos (little angels). Those who have died as adults are honored November 2."

So, this is where we are today. We have created this alter that symbolizes the place in our hearts where we still know the essence of our beloved…It is a simple yet lovely, positive, and healthy ritual.

Yet, death is not simple, or, I should say, dealing with death is not simple.  Death is simple.  One moment a person is alive… the next moment begins the eternity and finality of stillness…But, that stillness, that finality, gives rise to much complexity in those of us who are here, who are still living.

How do we get through the difficult parts of grieving?  

I don't pretend to have in-depth knowledge of many, or even a few religious belief systems.  But, from what I have read or experienced, the main focus of most traditions around death seems to be on the person who died and how the living can help that person achieve heaven, reduce karma in their next life, or otherwise advance on their spiritual journey.  

Of course, all have rituals of closure for the living, and some direct mourners to show physical expression of grief, such as the tearing of clothes or fasting. Many have very complex burial rites and some have rules governing the mourning period that ensure that the family is taken care of for more than a few days after their loved one's death while they grieve.  But, I have not found a lot of insights that transcend the particular belief system that offer guidance to the bereaved in the darker moments 

I guess that makes sense.  After all, most religions are based on the assumption that we have faith in God or an afterlife of some sort, and that the faith will support us.

But, whether or not we find comfort in a belief in an afterlife, death is final in our world here on earth and we have to deal with death while we are living. 

The psychiatrist Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, who is well-known for research and writings about death, outlines five stages through which people approach death: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.  Although Kubler-Ross's subject is people with terminal illnesses, these emotions also apply to those facing and dealing with the death of a loved one.

There are those who challenge Kubler-Ross's theory, arguing that she insists that a person must go through and then totally let go of the previous steps to achieve a full acceptance of death.  But, regardless, the five steps certainly highlight common reactions to death.  I know I have experienced them all.

However, I wonder about the anger.  It seems to me that there is less acknowledgement of the anger we may feel at those who die, less than the acknowledgement of our feelings of denial, bargaining, depression, and acceptance – and any other feelings that arise.

Many years ago, when my sister killed herself, a professor with whom I was studying at the time told me that Judaism has a saying that goes something like this: 

In the face of death, you can even curse God and it will not be a sin.  I have also read in many places that in the tradition of Judaism, it is acceptable, and even expected that people are going to get angry at God.  

But, to be able to curse God without guilt or fear???…That concept intrigued me.

I remembered this saying as I thought about what I would speak of this morning.  Ironically, our much-loved church member Daniel Eaton Pentlarge, who died at age 46 of a sudden illness last month, was scheduled to present the service and sermon on this day.

I am not at peace with his death. As a matter of fact, I am angry about it.  And, although it was more a desperate attempt at comic relief than actual anger at Daniel, I found myself saying aloud, at one point: "Thanks, Daniel.  Now, who is going to play Father Christmas in the Mummer's Play?"  For those of you who do not know, Daniel has played that role in the past few annual Solstice Celebrations – and that I, for the first time, am coordinating it this year.  

Of course, my reaction of anger in this case is trivial.  As much as I love Daniel, he is not my sibling, long-term best friend, or close relative.  But, the anger is still there.  How can he just go like that??? But, even more so, how can I even jokingly complain to him about his dying like that - when it wasn't even his fault??

…I keep coming back to the saying:  In the face of death, you can curse God and it is not a sin.  

To curse God, or Life, or the Universe, or, from a strictly secular view, to curse existence, is pretty extreme.  But, to express anger at someone who died is, to many people, even more beyond the acceptable boundaries of expressions grief, despair, and sorrow.  

It took me seven years to fully acknowledge that I was angry with my sister for killing herself.  And with a suicide, there is at least some kind of personal responsibility of blame to place, however much one understands the pain experienced by the person who chooses to end it all.

But what about those who die from circumstances beyond their control?  A car accident.  Sudden illness.  A valiant fight against cancer.  Old age.  But anger can still there. 

How can we acknowledge it without feeling guilty? 

My professor, so many years ago, was telling me that it was okay to feel angry at my sister.  Although, as I said earlier, it took me a long time to truly realize it, and realize that it was a normal feeling.  It was okay.  And, remembering what my professor said let me yell at Daniel and not feel that I was being a heartless, selfish person.  

What I was looking for when I started thinking about and researching for this sermon were beliefs and traditions, such as that saying about cursing God being okay, from religious teachings that could help us deal with the more often unspoken sides of grief.  

Especially the anger.  How could you abandon me?  How could be so stupid as to let that accident happen?  Why didn't you take care of yourself better?  Couldn't you have looked to see if a car was coming? Why did you come into my life only to leave before you even grew up? …I won't assume that everyone feels this kind of anger.  But I think it is okay to feel this kind of anger.  

Because anger comes from hurt.  And from fear – but what we fear are those things that may hurt us. The death of a loved one hurts.  The loss of someone on whom you depended is frightening.  Seeing that death can happen so suddenly brings home to us that we too could die at any time.  Or, anyone else whom we love could die at anytime. 

And, of course, we all know that we all, and everyone we love, will die at some point.  

Death can seem to be a betrayal of love.  A betrayal of the promise of love.  Love is supposed to be forever.  What do we do with this?  

I think this feeling of betrayal explains the anger we may feel, whether we direct it at ourselves for not being able to keep the person from dying, at the person for abandoning us, or at Life itself.  

Even those with strong faith in God, reincarnation, or the spirit world will have their moments of despair, of feeling betrayed.  “My God, My God, why has Thou forsaken me?" …

Yet, this thing called love that can cause such feelings of pain is also what brings us the most joy in life.  I don't really know what Love is.  I don't think anyone really knows.  But I believe it exists.  And I believe that, death or not, Love can indeed be forever. 

Earlier I mentioned Elizabeth Kubler-Ross's stages or steps for dealing with death and those who criticize her theories.   Her critics feel that she insists that a person must go through and then totally let go of the previous steps to achieve a full acceptance of death.

If this is indeed her thesis, then I also disagree with her.  We can accept that death is part of life, and even be at peace with our losses, but still sometimes feel the sadness and anger that death inspires.  Death just seems so…unjust, unfair…And it is so Final.

But I believe that we can experience and accept the finality of death while also realizing that love is not necessarily betrayed by that finality.  The love between two people does not go away when one of the people dies.  Our memories keep the essence of those we loved alive, and with us, here and now, regardless of our beliefs about an afterlife…  I know that I smile, laugh, cry bittersweet tears - and still learn from my parents, my sister, and other relatives and friends who have died. And, sometimes I still feel angry that they have died, or, especially with my parents, angry at things that happened when they were alive.  But I still love them, even if I do yell at them once in a while.  

Death may be final, but our love for and our relationships with those who died before us is not.  Death causes hurt, fear, anger, sadness.  But it does not cause a betrayal of love. Death would not cause these, or any feelings, if we did not love.  We can sit with all the feelings, sad and happy, and know that our capacity for love, love that can bring such joy, is what also causes, or enables us to mourn the death of one we love, and also cherish the part they played in our lives.  

I think that May Sarton's words, that we read earlier in the service, ring true:

Did someone say that there would be an end, and end, oh an end, to love and mourning?

Listen, and feel new-cherished, new-forgiven, as the lost human voices speak through us and blend our complex love, our mourning without end.
Amen.