November 2024

The call to be neighbour includes attention to those who are dying

For me, life is precious, life is God’s gift. For me, the end of life also remains in the mystery of God. The timing is not within human control, writes Congregational Leader Sister Catherine McCahill.

“The life and death of each of us has its influence on others,” St Paul wrote to the Christian community in Rome some 2000 years ago.

This month, Catholics and many other Christians around the world celebrate all the unnamed saints of the church and pray for all those who have died. We are in communion with them and in hope we trust that they are in the full presence of our loving God. Reflecting on these special days, I have been thinking about the mystery of death and dying.

Death is such a mysterious reality. We can speculate on what it might mean for the dying of the person but, in fact, it is only speculation or faith. We use science and facts to determine that a person really is dead. If necessary, we use science to determine the cause of death. But what lies beyond death is beyond science.

For me, the call to be neighbour includes attention to those who are dying. For some, death comes quickly and unannounced and there is no time to attend the one who dies apart from care of the body and the rites of funeral. For others, the approach of death is known through frailty or disease. These women, men and children need our particular care.

In Australia, “voluntary assisted dying” has been legalised. The landscape associated with dying has changed. For many people, especially those with a terminal diagnosis and their families, the questions and choices associated with living and dying have a new dimension.

For me, life is precious, life is God’s gift. For me, the end of life also remains in the mystery of God. The timing (hours, days, months or years) is not within human control.

The announcement of the ending of life, whether by medical diagnosis or self-realisation, is itself life changing. Hopes, expectations, arrangements, lifestyles will require scrutiny and adjustment. The impact ripples well beyond the one receiving the announcement to family, friends, colleagues and, in some cases, the wider community.

As neighbour, as family member, as Sister, as colleague, I ask myself: How will I bear witness? How will I accompany this person now?

Well aware that, in most cases, the reality is exponentially more challenging than my simple reflection, I dare to make some comments. Not being a clinician, I can only reflect from the place of being family, friend, neighbour or pastoral carer.

I recall weekly visits to a mother of one of my students. Each week, she seemed frailer and the family sadder and more anxious as death approached far too soon in the normal course of a lifetime. I recall my own anguish on the homeward journey, railing before God about the suffering I was witnessing, asking why her “life” was being prolonged.

Then I realised that my need to see the end of her suffering had become my focus. It was probably not her need. Despite her suffering and her extreme frailty, there was always some next thing for which to live: her daughter’s 14th birthday, the end of the school term, her husband to return from work at the end of the day and relieve the palliative care nurse.

Those final months of living were mysterious, filled with intense suffering and poignant gifts of love for her and her family. As I bore witness, there were no words, only presence and much learning.

I learnt most of all that life, even at this extreme, is a gift.

However, I am not naïve, and I know that individuals and families in our community also see the choice of “voluntary assisted dying” as a gift. They have the possibility of choosing the timing of death, they believe that they can relieve the suffering of the dying one and those around them. But I wonder about the reality of this claim. For me, life is God-given, the first and last breath are mystery and not within my choice.

A lack of palliative care in many places might explain why some people, fearing pain, loneliness and being a burden to others, might consider choosing “voluntary assisted dying”. The Church continues to advocate for adequate palliative and supportive care to be available for all who need it.

Confronted by the reality of deep suffering (physical, emotional or psychological), either immediately or on the horizon, most of us will seek alternative paths. We will want this reality to end. However, I suggest that these are times when we truly learn about love and compassion, when we witness the fullness of our humanity.

This is because the meaning of our lives is found in cultivating love and relationships with the people around us and not just in the collection of experiences that we undergo. When everything else falls away … we see that love is most powerfully realised through vulnerability, disempowerment, bearing the burdens of others and the truth that we are connected and that we need each other. Living for this kind of love is what motivates spouses, siblings, children, friends, healthcare professionals and chaplains to attend upon patients with heroic love, even when little recognition or gratitude may be received. In these moments, everyone – including a patient who is sick and suffering – can participate in the moments of love and presence that make life worth living. (To Witness and to Accompany with Christian Hope, Australian Catholic Bishops Conference, 2023)

 

Catherine McCahill

Good Samaritan Sister Catherine McCahill is the Congregational Leader of the Sisters of the Good Samaritan. She has served on the Congregation's leadership team since 2011. Catherine has been involved in education for more than 30 years, in secondary schools and, more recently, at a tertiary level in biblical studies and religious education.

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