Recently we lost a longtime friend and supporter of the seminary, former chair of the board of trustees, Dr. Bill Wood. In addition, our faculty member Dr. Gwenfair Adams just lost her mother. These deaths both occurred in the past week. So my thoughts have turned to reflect upon sobering transitions and the place of death in our lives.

I read recently the following from Thomas à Kempis:

Very soon it will be over with you here; then, see how things stand! Today we are, and tomorrow we are gone…Blessed is that person who always has the hour of death before his eyes and is daily prepared to die.[1]

It is a very common part of most spiritual theology to be always aware and conscious that this day may be your last. For some this consciousness means waking up each morning and thanking God for one more day to bring him glory. In this way, the imminence of death becomes a guide to a pure heart and holy life. For other theologians, they speak of it more directly, reminding us to live each day as if it is your last.

I myself have been intimately acquainted with mortality, having been fully present in three deaths.

I was in an ambulance during one sudden death and in a hospital room holding a hand or stroking a head for the other two. It is a strange blessing to have been with my sister, my mother and my father as they each took their last breath. We had little warning about each of them. One died about 20 minutes after a boating accident and the others died within two days of each other (one of a stroke and the other, lung failure). I was grateful to be able to speak words of love to them and pray with them as they left this world. I have no regrets. And now, despite the deep loss, I live with wonderful memories.

I suppose that is usually the way it is: we often have some warning of the end of a person’s life. However, sometimes death is sudden or we are far away and there is no possibility of any goodbyes, thank yous, or apologies. We would hope and pray that when death comes, all relationships would be reconciled and life’s loose ends tied up. Our mortality and the fleeting nature of life ought always to be in our consciousness.

Yet, in a culture that puts a premium on happiness and self-fulfillment[2] teaching about death or even talking about death seems counter-intuitive or even unhuman.

“Why are you writing about something so depressing?” some may ask.

However, nothing could be more human than being honest about what it means to be mortal: I did not choose to be born when, where, and into what family, but here I am. And my life is temporary. It is like a flower that blooms briefly then quickly fades, or like a fleeting breath. Birth, life, suffering, joy, family, community, worship, reconciliation, anger, forgiveness; these are all aspects of what it means to be human. We are created to live in this fallen world for a short time as if to prepare us to enter eternity.

In this way, reflecting on your death can be healthy for your life.

If I consider that this might be my last day in this world, I would want to end my life well. I would want to go to my grave and meet my Maker knowing I had loved my wife that last day and that I had helped someone in need, and that I had learned more of God’s Word to guide my thinking that day.

I would like to think that when I meet our Lord, I could say something like, “Jesus, yes, on my last day of life I sent an anonymous financial gift to support a missionary translating the Bible. Oh, and I sent a surprise note of love to my wife.”

As with all of us, I hope and plan to live many more days or years. But, in truth, today may be my last as it may also be yours. Either way, being aware of my mortality, I will be guided in how I learn, how I love, how I forgive and how I treat my enemies so that when my time comes, I may go down in peace.

Lord, you have been our dwelling place
    throughout all generations…

You turn people back to dust,
    saying, “Return to dust, you mortals.”
A thousand years in your sight
    are like a day that has just gone by,
    or like a watch in the night.
Yet you sweep people away in the sleep of death—
    they are like the new grass of the morning:
In the morning it springs up new,
    but by evening it is dry and withered…

Our days may come to seventy years,
    or eighty, if our strength endures…
Teach us to number our days,
    that we may gain a heart of wisdom…

May the favor of the Lord our God rest on us;
    establish the work of our hands for us—
    yes, establish the work of our hands.

–Psalm 90

[1] In Imitation of Christ, chapter 23.
[2] Jessica Grose, “Are we Happy Yet?” in The New York Times. August 11, 2024.

Dr. Scott W. Sunquist, President of Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, is author of the “Attentiveness” blog. He welcomes comments, responses, and good ideas.