Sunday, March 21, 1999, I heard a teenager die. It was about 3:45 in the morning, and I was sleeping with the window open - I love the night air on cool nights. There was a loud screech of tires, a rumble, and an incredibly loud POP! It certainly wasn't the sound you'd expect, from listening to the wrecks in TV shows, the way the foley artists make them sound. I grabbed my phone and fumbled at dialing 911 in the dark. Looking out the window, I saw flames, and talked with the operator, giving all the information she needed.
As quickly as I could, I put on some clothes, grabbed a jacket and headed out. I have a Red Cross First Aid certificate, and I hoped I'd be able to help in some way. When I got to the scene, I saw a pile of wreckage leaning against a tree, in flames. A car pulled up at the time I was just getting there. Two guys got out, and one said, "E.M.T!" so I backed away, to let them do their work.
At first, they thought they were dealing with a motorcycle, because the wreckage on fire was so small, but it turned out that it was only the front end of the car that had wrecked. Further on, we found the main body of the car, and one body, lying on its side, as if asleep on the ground. The EMTs spent only a little time examining the body. There was nothing to be done.
I hung around a little while. None of the other neighbors came out to offer help. They had their lights on, and they watched from their bedrooms. I expect that none of them were trained in first aid, and were aware that they had no real help to offer. I kept thinking of a similar accident, more than 20 years ago now, in which a good friend had been thrown from the car he was in. He was found, barely alive, and spent the next couple of months in the hospital. I had wanted to help here, but I had nothing to offer at this time, either.
I looked over the scene, fixing it in my mind. I noticed that this person was wearing a University of North Carolina t-shirt, nice powder blue and white and clean. There were a pair of rather expensive tennis shoes about 30 feet away from the body. I later learned that he had earlier in the night been in a Junior League basketball tournament (his team had won a championship), so they could have been just tossed from the car, instead of being ripped from his feet. I didn't get close enough to check, in any case. There were car parts all over the place, and the engine itself was sitting on the grass, clean and silvery in the light of the nearby street lamp. The car, what little was still recognizable, was a maroon hatchback of some sort. The paint looked well-kept, and the wheel I saw had a chrome cover. Soon, there were several volunteer firemen around - some came to briefly cluster around the body, but most appeared concerned with the business of putting out the fire and making sure the scene was safe. The State Patrol arrived, and an ambulance, but other than covering the body with a plastic sheet, they expressed little interest in the scene. No one appeared to notice me or want to ask me for information or help. After about 20 minutes, I decided to leave.
After I got home, I lay in bed, listening to the proceedings. There was a mutter of thunder, as a storm was sending a line of showers in from the south that morning. Shortly, I heard a woman crying great, loud sobs in the night - his mother, I expect. I started thinking about the grief process, and I also started thinking about the religious aspects of this event.
My first thought was rather cynical (well, I had been awakened from a pretty sound sleep). I thought about the prayers that would come about after this. I wondered if anyone (especially in the family) would pray for this young man to be resurrected. I had been dealing for quite a while with the subject of prayer, as presented in the Christian Bible. I especially thought about the promises of Jesus that anything prayed for by believers would be granted. The writers of the Gospels made no exceptions in the promise - Jesus said that anything would be granted. He left an out for God, though. The supplicant had to believe enough. So in the case of this poor young man's family, not only would they not get their prayer granted to them, they would have to accept the fact that (according to Jesus) it's their fault for not believing their prayer would result in the asked-for miracle. On the other hand, most people who follow the reasoning of prayer usually prefer the explanation in the book of 1 John - their prayer must ask for things in accordance with God's will. You want your son back? No, it's not in God's will. A little less damaging to the faith, but harmful nonetheless. In any event, all who dare to pray for the miracle of Lazarus are going to be disappointed, regardless of the "reason."
But then, I went on to contemplate the grief process from the Christian point of view. During the 20 or so years I was a Christian, I never had the misfortune to lose any family member. The closest I came to this was when a pastor of my church died due to complications from leukemia. It was only a few months after he had presided at my wedding (Deb and I were the next to last couple he married; the very last couple has since divorced, I think). I remember thinking long and hard over this loss. I believed this good, wise man had gone to heaven to live in happiness forever. However, a few nights during that first month, I dreamed of him. Once, I dreamed that he had faked his death and was hiding in the church's attic. The event had my attention (conscious and subconscious) for over a year.
My question in this case is whether the Christian approach to the death of a loved one is superior? We all know that the Christian view of death is one of denial, an attitude that it shares with nearly all religions. They believe that everyone has an immortal soul, meaning that physical death has no effect on the soul, except to relieve it of its earthly habitation. We also know that all religious sects based on the Christian Bible believe there are two possible final destinations for the souls of the deceased - heavenly eternal life or not. There is great disagreement over the actual nature of those not getting to heaven, so I don't need to go into that problem in this work.
The point is that all surviving family members, if they were to look at the issue logically, would have to worry over the final destination of the soul of a loved one. Especially in the case of teenagers, the problem becomes magnified, because there's no certainty of the true nature of their status with God. If one gets to heaven by works, they usually have a mediocre record there. If through faith, no one can honestly tell. Even those who went through their sect's ceremonies for acceptance into church membership could have done so through peer pressure, rather than "true faith." These are issues that the Christian survivors will have to face - if they ever get to the point of facing the issue logically. The likelihood of this is small, but it is a problem lurking in the background.
So, what are the phases of the grief process? 1 - Denial. 2 - Anger. 3 - Bargaining. 4 - Depression. 5 - Acceptance. From my limited experiences with loss of loved ones, I expect that these "stages" are not isolated, but they come and go in waves, often in combinations. A person can dwell on these emotions for weeks, months, or even years after the event, depending on the emotional trauma experienced. However, one of the strongest aspects of religious views here is denial.
No minister in his right mind would preach at a funeral that the deceased has gone to hell. He may believe it himself, and it may be whispered behind the backs of the family members, but the minister knows that his primary responsibility is to comfort the survivors. He must do this at all costs, because comfort in the face of mortality is the primary use people have for religion. If he were to tell the assembled church (as he could have in the case of this particular person, I have heard) that the deceased was a party animal, unruly, drunk, and almost never attended church, and therefore most likely writhing in eternal torment - there wouldn't be much of a future for the minister. So, they skirt the issue, or just come right out and lie about how nice the deceased was.
On the other hand, how do atheists handle denial? In the atheist view, death is the end of existence. An atheist may try to deny the fact of death, particularly in the emotional context of the death of a family member. However, under more rational circumstances, this phase of the process will pass away. The intellectual side of the mind is not clouded by the religious ramifications - it is free to dwell on denial until it is no longer needed, then drop this protective reaction to the emotional trauma.
The second phase of the process is anger. Anger at the loved one, anger at the person responsible, anger at the world in general, I expect, for going on without missing a beat while the death is tearing apart the lives of the survivors. I don't know of anything in the Christian belief system that addresses this part of the grief process. Of course, there can be anger at God, for allowing the death to occur. If this were to happen, the feeling would be discouraged by the ministers, for that way lies atheism. Other than that, feelings of anger are allowed to run their natural course, matching the experiences of atheists.
The next phase to consider is bargaining. Here is where some major damage occurs in the realm of religion. Favors are asked of the god who the family understands to be all-powerful. They remember the stories of people being raised from the dead. In their pain, they wish that this death could be reversed, that they get another chance. Of course, this never happens. Left on its own, this lack of wish-fulfillment in light of the extravagant claims of the religion can lead to estrangement. The ministers of all religions are well-trained to handle this problem. The story of heavenly peace for the departed (in spite of lack of real evidence supporting it) is presented. The concept of following God's will, and telling people that the death was part of God's plan is quite common. All these methods are quite good at deflecting the problems arising from the failure of the bargaining response to grief.
I often wonder whether atheists even experience the "bargaining" phase of grief. Except at the very beginning of the process, when the doctor or EMT or whoever tells the survivor of the loss, there should be no inclination to try to bargain. You could offer the doctor, in that first moment of panic, anything or everything to employ some unknown, wished-for treatment to rescue the deceased. But after that, what possible entity could the atheist attempt to bargain with? In any event, this should be a non-issue with any rational person.
The last, quite harmful phase of the grief process is depression. This is an understandable, natural response to the loss of a loved one. A major part of the survivor's life is taken away, and the adjustment process means constant reminders of the loss. It is often a personal thing - the survivor is sad about the changes in his own life, more so than being sad about the tragedy of the dead person's loss of life. The believing mourner may feel pressure to avoid this depression. After all, the dead person is said to be in a better place (once again, the conflict of the heaven/hell dichotomy rears its head in Christian or Muslim situations), and so the survivor is encouraged to be happy for the loss. I have seen this happen in the past - people who are struggling with a hard loss, trying to smile through their tears, saying "I'm happy he's in heaven now!" They work to suppress their feelings of sadness and loss, because they're convinced it's wrong to feel that way. This attitude can lead to feelings of guilt, further depression, alienation etc.
An atheist, though, does not necessarily have this layering of problems when it comes to depression. Naturally, depression will be a problem to be faced. However, it can be faced and dealt with by itself. There's no reason to try to deny the feelings of sadness or loneliness. There's no reason to try and deny that the deceased is gone forever. The process of experiencing these feelings can be handled by themselves with no complications of guilt or fear.
So - does the religious life help in the process of grief? I believe that in many cases, the process of grief is harmed and prolonged. The family in the case related at the beginning of this article is well aware of their sect's views of how to get into heaven. They're also aware of how their son measured up to those views. It's not hard to imagine the extra pain they must feel when they realize that behind the facade of smiles and flowers, the people of the church are truly thinking that this person is in hell. Is it any wonder that many families drop away from their churches in circumstances such as this?
In a rational, atheist family and community, the situation would be far more helpful. Friends would understand the problems being faced by the family. They would know the need to concentrate on helping the survivors deal with their loss, instead of being concerned with the assumed, problematic fate of the deceased soul. A concern for the lives of the living would be paramount, and such a community could react in constructive ways to recover from the emotional trauma involved. In my opinion, this outcome is clearly superior to that normally achieved by any religion.
(c) 1999 J. Eric Harrington