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Who Decides? April 3, 2005 Ralph DiBiasio-Snyder Introduction to the Scripture The story we are about to hear of the appearance of the risen Christ to two of his followers as they walked home sad and disappointed to Emmaus raises lots of questions. Why is it that they at first could not recognize Jesus? Why is Jesus so hard on them for not believing that a dead man had risen from the grave? What Scripture passages did Jesus tell them about - Old Testament passages that told about him? And looking forward to partaking of Communion today, how was it that their eyes were opened in the breaking of the bread? How might WE see Jesus in the breaking of bread today? Let us listen on this the first Sunday after Easter to a story of how the risen Christ showed himself to the world. Television evangelist Pat Robertson called it "judicial murder." House MajorityLeader Tom Delay said it was "medical terrorism." A Catholic monk close to the Schindler family pronounced it was a "modern day crucifixion," while the talk show host Rush Limbaugh said that Terri Schiavo had been killed by the United States government. It should have been a private affair, for family in consultation with their doctors. A cause for soul-searching, and a difficult decision, to be sure; no simple matter - heart-wrenching. But loving and reverent, and private - the way it is for thousands of families and health professionals in this country and around the world who are forced to make such decisions every day. But bitter division within her family thrust her onto the national stage where she was transformed into a symbol, politicized in the worst possible way. And so what should have been a private agony became a national spectacle. It is always amazing and disheartening to me when people far removed from such matters, with no expertise, no experience, using hearsay information suddenly become experts and feel perfectly free to announce to the world "the truth" as if it were indisputable. From letters I read in the Northwestern, to know-it-all talk show hosts, to the very halls of Congress people seemed to know the most intimate details of this tragic and unspeakably sad episode in the life of a family. While protestors carried signs that admonished, "Thou shalt not kill," they may have more helpfully displayed another of the commandments, namely, "Thou shalt not bear false witness," which is to say, "Thou shalt not talk about things that thou knowest nothing about." Which is what I don't want to do today either. And so I will not pretend to know what really happened in Terri Schiavo's life and death. Her suffering and that of her family is theirs and theirs alone, and so let us let them alone. I do want us to think, though, about the issues that have been raised by the events of this week. I want us to think about what our faith has to do with the making of these kinds of hard choices. If we have to face such a decision about a loved one, or about our own death, what do we believe about God, and about how God works in the world, that would help us? Let's start by asking a simple question, What does the Bible have to say about disconnecting feeding tubes for people in a persistent vegetative state? Answer: Nothing. Not directly, certainly. Obviously, people in the Bible had no idea what a feeding tube might be, and they knew still less about "vegetative states." If your ox has fallen into a ditch, or your neighbor has stolen your maidservant, you can find some direct advice. But feeding tubes? You're on your own. Like most things in Scripture, you're looking for guiding principles in Scripture, general concepts to point you in a general direction for action. The rest is up to you. So what might be the principles of Christian faith that would guide us in such difficult decisions? First, God is the author of life - all life. Our lives come from God. At least so far, humankind has not been able to create life - certainly nothing like human life. We may be able to do that someday, and that will bring a whole raft of ethical dilemmas. But for now, only God can create life. And if our lives come from God, then follows the second principle, All life is sacred - holy. There will never be another human being just like you or me, or anyone else. Each of us, created by God, is unique, and in fact "a little lower than the angels," as the psalmist said, and therefore to be treated with reverent care. Life that is sacred must be cherished, honored, preserved. If created by God, and therefore sacred, then human beings are not mere commodities. They are not valued for what they contribute to society, discarded when they become a burden, or have nothing to give. And so we must treat decisions of life and death with greatest care. If God gives life, and so every life is sacred, then if would follow that only God can end a life. Yes, but now things start to get muddled. Yes, we say, only God can end a life, but note that if we really believed that, we would as a nation immediately end the death penalty - state-sanctioned, premeditated, violent taking of life, surely. And we would disavow ever going to war, for any reason, even a defensive one, certainly never an unprovoked war, for wars all would agree end human lives - hundreds of thousands, millions of sacred human lives. But we're not likely to do that, are we. And that is the problem, isn't it. There are circumstances, our society has said, rightly or wrongly, when not just God can take a life, but so can we. Only can God take a life, we say, except . . . and as soon as you make an exception things get very murky. There are other questions that complicate the matter. First, there is great disagreement on just what "life" is for human beings. What is life when there is no brain activity? If the body still functions, but the brain is dead, how can we say there is any meaningful life? That question was at the heart of the Shiavo case, of course. Then there is the problem of what happens when life has been artificially prolonged - when humankind through our medicine has overridden the natural - dare we say God's? -- course of events. If we want to say that only God can end a life, then do we want to also say that only God can extend a life? I doubt it. We want the paramedics at the door to use whatever means available to get our hearts pumping again. Advances in medicine have brought us great things, but also great dilemmas, haven't they. The minute we plug in that respirator or insert the feeding tube we have in a very real sense started to "play God." And when it comes time to unplug the machines we are not taking life, but letting the natural process - the work of God that both gives life and takes life - go on. There are two more principles that I think play a part in such decisions. The first one, it seems to me, was very much overlooked in the events of these past weeks. That is our belief in an afterlife. Isn't it odd that those who profess a deep and devout faith in the immortality of the soul - that real life does not end here, that it goes on, as we say in the funeral liturgy, "on another shore and in a greater light" - isn't it odd that we who believe in heaven, fight so desperately to avoid it? If you think that this life is all there is, that you will never ever again see your loved one who is dying then it makes sense that you prolong this life with every means possible, even life when its quality is highly questionable. But if there is an afterlife, a better life, then why do we fear it? Why do we deny it to a loved one whose existence is frustrating or painful and who without extraordinary measures of life support would quickly cross over to a much better life? This life is a gift of God . . . but so is the "next life." And that is an important faith principle in making these kinds of decisions. And that leads to the last principle: the power of prayer. Not the power of prayer to heal. The power of prayer to help us answer the question at the bedside of that loved one, "What should I do?" I believe that God wants to guide us. I believe that we have not been left alone to flounder on our own, to muddle our way through. We don't believe in a God out there who says, "I know what you need to know, and I'm not telling!" do we? I don't believe that God (very often) talks right out loud. Nor does God leave me notes on the dresser, or emails in the In-box. But God guides us, if we ask - through the mysterious but real nudging presence of the Spirit. God "speaks" to us through conversations with friends and family, and in cases of health decisions through consultation with doctors. Somehow - the process defies description, and differs for everyone - somehow the God who loves us, who longs to comfort us in our time of decision, this God Jesus told us about who knows us more intimately than we know ourselves and who goes with us through even the darkest hours, that God will show us the way. God gives us life, and so our lives are sacred. They are to be cherished and cared for not just on our deathbed, but throughout our days. Healthcare decisions are to be made reverently, lovingly - again, not just at the end, but everyday. And when our days on this earth do come to an end, God gives us still more life - life on another plane, in a new dimension. For most of us the time of passing from one life to another is in God's hands alone, and we have no choice. But if we have to make end of life decisions for ourselves or for a loved one, we can face that moment knowing that through prayer, the counsel of friends and family God will guide us. God will tell us what to do. And God will lead us truly home.
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