A UU Pagan Looks at Death and Beyond
The Denton UU Fellowship
October 27, 2024
To be human is to be aware that we are alive, and to also be aware that someday we will die.
I can’t find the source of that quote – it’s not mine. But it’s absolutely true. There is evidence that some other species understand the concept of death. But as far as we know, we are the only species who lives with the awareness that someday we will die.
We are born innocent – and unaware. As early as a few months we become aware that we exist. Later we begin to develop memories and a sense of identity. We learn that we’re going to grow and change. And then at some point, we realize that someday all that will end. We become aware that sooner or later, our body, which we inhabit, or which we are, will stop working and die.
And then what?
We know what will happen to our body. If it’s left to Nature it will decay and decompose, and eventually return to the Earth, from whence it came. Our survivors may burn it, or preserve it with processes ranging from mummification to modern embalming.
But we are more than our bodies. What happens to the essence of who and what we are? Does it too cease to exist? Does it move on to another world, a world of spirit? Does it find a newly born or soon to be born body to inhabit? Or perhaps something else that we’ve never even considered?
We don’t know.
How do we deal with this knowing and not knowing? Mostly, we don’t.
We ignore death, and when it comes – as it always does – we hide it away. It’s not been that long ago that people cared for their own dead: washing the body, laying it out, digging the grave, and burying it. And mourning together. Now we’ve outsourced the care of our dead to professionals. If we’re lucky we get three days bereavement leave and then it’s back to work. Much of this is capitalism’s insistence on “productivity” but some of is our own desire to forget about death.
We know that someday it will be us, but we try not to think about it. Until we can’t not think about it.
We are alive, and someday each and every one of us will die.
The time to think about death and what – if anything – comes after is not when we’re about to die, or when we’re at the funeral of a loved one. The time to think about death is on a beautiful Sunday morning when we feel like we’re going to live forever, even though we know we won’t.
Perhaps there is nothing
I am a Druid, a Pagan, a polytheist, and much more, but I stand here this morning as Unitarian Universalist. Many UUs believe there is only this one world and this one life. If you’re one of them, know that I freely acknowledge that you might be right.
Some years ago I had some medical tests that required me to be unconscious. The anesthesia was both quick and effective. One moment I’m laying there on the table with the doctor standing over me and the next moment I’m waking up in the recovery room. No fading in and out, no dreaming, no nothing. It was as though I ceased to exist for 15 minutes or however long it was. And when I woke up the first thought that went through my head was “if the atheists are right, this is what death is like, and I’m OK with that.”
Nearing his own death in 1910, Mark Twain said “I do not fear death. I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it.”
Death is not the opposite of life. Death is a part of life, the end of the process that begins at birth. Contemporary Druid and philosopher Brendan Myers compares life to a bird that flies into a great hall at birth, and then flies out of the other end of the hall at death. Did the bird exist before it flew into the hall? Does the bird exist after it flies out of the hall? All we can say for sure is that for a while, the bird is in the hall.
And if that’s all there is, then it is enough – in part because this one life is beautiful and terrible and wonderful and amazing all at the same time, and in part because if this is all there is then it has to be enough. We have to make it enough.
Like so much in life, death is neither good nor bad. It simply is.
There is no hell
We don’t know what happens after death. That’s never stopped people from speculating about what they hope comes next for themselves and their loved ones, and about what they hope comes next for the people they don’t like.
Life is many things, but it is not fair, and it is natural to hope there will be justice in the next life. Many religions teach some form of rewards for the good and punishment for the bad, either in an afterlife or in a future life in this world.
Unfortunately for us, the predominant religion in our culture proposes not just punishments, but eternal torment. And not just for those who do especially bad things, but for anyone and everyone who doesn’t follow the right religion in the right way.
Many people are afraid of death because they’re afraid they might go to hell.
We are gathered here this morning in a Unitarian Universalist church, the spiritual heirs of dissenting Christians who said “no.” Unitarians taught the unity of God and the humanity of Jesus. Universalists taught that all will be reconciled to God. Both arose in opposition to the kind of Christianity that threatens people with hellfire, and especially to the Calvinist Christianity that says some are predestined for hell, and that God is good for saving some and damning others.
I’m a polytheist who accepts the reality of all the Gods, but I see the God of Calvinism as a mad deity who the other Gods mostly ignore, and I do the same.
The idea that people born in countries where Christianity predominates have a great chance of finding their way to heaven while those born in countries where other religions predominate are virtually assured to go to hell was my first hint that what I was being taught in the fundamentalist church could not be right. A God who would set up such is system is neither all-good nor all-wise, and he is certainly not all-loving.
Many Christians agree, and today many Mainline Protestants and some Catholics are universalists in all but name. So are many non-fundamentalist Muslims. Some religions, including some Pagan religions, teach that the afterlife may involve some unpleasant lessons… as does this life. But the idea of eternal damnation is only taught by the most conservative sects of a few religions, and I do not fear it.
And neither did our Unitarian and Universalist predecessors. I stand here this morning on the shoulders of John Murray, who told preachers to “give them not hell but hope and courage.”
Death is coming for all of us. Let us face it not with fear, but with hope and courage.
Why I think we live on after death
Why should we have hope? Why should we think we might live on after death?
Materialists – people who believe that matter and the interactions of matter are all that exists, or that can exist – insist that what we call consciousness is a product of brain activity, and so when the brain dies consciousness dies.
Animists – people who believe that everything is not a thing but a person – point out that trees respond to their environment, they communicate with other trees, and they do their own things for their own reasons – they demonstrate autonomy. Trees have mind. A tree mind is not a human mind, but is a mind, and thus we can say that trees have consciousness. And if trees have consciousness then consciousness cannot come from the brain, because trees do not have brains.
Materialists claim that consciousness comes from matter. Animists argue that matter comes from consciousness. And if matter comes from consciousness then it is reasonable to assume that consciousness lives on after the brain and the rest of the body are dead.
There are countless stories of past life experiences, and some of them are too precise and verifiable to simply dismiss. They don’t prove anything. But they point toward something more than just the material world.
Virtually every culture has stories of an afterlife or a Otherworld. Are they all expressions of wishful thinking? Or do they point – however vaguely – toward something more?
Virtually every culture has stories of communication with the dead, of ghosts and spirits. So do more people in this country here and now than you might think. Many, perhaps most of us have experiences that indicate there’s something more. Most people keep them to themselves, for fear of being seen as immature or uneducated or mentally disturbed. But put them in a safe space and they’ll tell you all about something the mainstream world says cannot happen, but it did.
Perhaps you have such a story. If so, I encourage you to tell it. In sharing these stories we remind ourselves that we are not alone in our experiences, or in the beliefs we form around them.
If you hear these stories and investigate these ideas and come to the conclusion that there is only this one world and this one life, I respect your thinking. You might be right.
But I’ve come to the conclusion the essence of who and what we are is more than the product of brain activity, and I believe we live on after death.
Unhelpful obsessions with the afterlife
When we accept the inevitability of death and we contemplate the possibilities of what might come afterwards, our fear of death begins to fade. But like all good things, it can be taken too far.
Even if we live on in an afterlife, or if we will be reincarnated many times, this life here and now is a thing of great value. Too many people spend all their time trying to qualify for the good place in the afterlife and they neglect to live in this life.
Others waste this life, accepting mediocrity on the assumption that they’ll do better next time.
Perhaps the worst are those who believe apocalyptic prophecies, who think the world is going to end in the near future and so there’s no need to work for a better world. In the mid-19th century the preacher William Miller convinced thousands of people that Jesus would return to Earth on October 22, 1844. Many of them stopped working on their farms or in their professions. Some sold their belongings. And then, as happens every time with apocalyptic prophecies, nothing happened. October 22, 1844 is known as the Great Disappointment.
In our time we have some people in positions of power who refuse to care for the environment and who are encouraging war in the Middle East because they believe a “new heaven” and a “new Earth” are coming any day now.
Whether we will return to this world or not is a matter of speculation. What is certain is that those who come after us will continue to inhabit the Earth for countless generations to come. We owe it to them to leave this world a better place than we found it, even if we aren’t coming back.
And even if we will reincarnate many times, there is much to learn and do and experience in this life. Let’s make the most of it.
That which is remembered, lives
Even if the naturalists are correct and there is only this one life in this one world, we still live on.
We live on in our deeds. We are gathered in this room we call Miller Hall, named for Tom and Isabel Miller, the architects who helped found this fellowship and who designed this building. Because of the Millers and those of their generation, we have a home. As I understand it, the Millers were humanists who did not expect an afterlife of any sort. But even if they were right and their consciousness has vanished, they live on in us and in our work to maintain and advance Unitarian Universalism in Denton, and to build a better world here and now.
Samhain is the holiest day on the modern Pagan Wheel of the Year. Denton CUUPS will observe it this coming Saturday evening, and everyone is invited. One of the themes of Samhain is honoring our ancestors: our parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, and all those who came before us, going back as far as we can tell, and then some. We set up their pictures, eat their favorite foods, and most importantly, we tell their stories. Legend says that the Veil Between the Worlds is especially thin at this time of year. Perhaps their souls, the essence of who and what they are, are with us here. Perhaps they are here only in our memories. But this much is certain: that which is remembered, lives.
One of Denton CUUPS’ most beloved ancestors is Dolores Nabors, who died in 2021 at the age of 88. Dolores was part of this fellowship for many years – she was congregation President in 2008. She was an active member of CUUPS – she was a good teacher and a wonderful meditation leader. Some of those meditations led people beyond the Veil and into the Otherworld.
When I got word that Dolores had died, I did what I always do at times like these – I prayed. I prayed to my Gods and to the Gods I knew Dolores honored and worked with. I prayed that her journey into the next life would be safe and easy. But I do not think those prayers were necessary. Dolores knew where she was going, because she had been there before, in meditation. And there were people there ready to greet her, because she always remembered them while she was here.
What comes after death is a mystery, and I believe it will remain a mystery even as our knowledge of the innermost workings of the universe continues to expand and grow. But it is a mystery we can explore: in rational thought, in contemplation and mediation, in discussing and comparing our experiences, in ritual and in worship. In exploring the mysteries of death and what comes afterwards, we lose – or at least, greatly reduce – our fear of death.
This we know: all that lives will someday die. Let us face death not with fear and not with denial, but with hope and courage.
Benediction
To be human is to be aware that we are alive, and to also be aware that someday we will die. How do we deal with this great and terrible knowledge?
We can ignore it… for a while. We can live in fear of non-existence, or in fear of ending up in a bad afterlife. Or we can contemplate the nature of life and death and what comes after, explore it, think about what it might involve and what it almost certainly does not involve. We can approach death with hope and courage, while we live this life as fully as we can.
Go in peace, when you leave this place today and when your time comes to leave this world.
Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In