Some of them are

I’ve been bedside at more deaths than I can accurately recall. Most of them followed some religion or another, and there were a dozen or so that expressed peace and/or joy at the thought of the afterlife promised to them. Some of the others hoped it would be there, but expressed it with some degree of fear or doubt. The rest were honestly either not in their mind at all, or were otherwise unable to communicate towards the very end.

Christians, most of them, for what that matters. Three Muslims that I recall because you don’t find many here in the rural south. All of them were awake and alert towards the end, and expresses still having faith, though they seemed to focus more on making their last days be about saying goodbye. No clue if that was them as individuals, or a facet of Islam in their lives.

The ones that were the most outright joyous were what you might call a bit obsessed with their religion, but it didn’t seem to stay along denomination lines with the caveat that Catholics aren’t much better represented here than Muslims, so protestants made up the majority of my religious patients, period.

Only ever had one Hindu patient that was dying, and he never mentioned it at all. He just wanted to cuddle with his wife and enjoy good food.

But shit, one the happiest people I ever sat with as they were dying was a secular humanist. Dude was all about going out with a smile. Kept himself just high enough to feel no pain, and was otherwise essentially partying until the cancer made that impossible. Then it was just enough medication to keep pain minimized while allowing him to be aware and able to talk. But he said he was happy with his life, and expected death to be a welcome cessation of the bullshit that comes with a body.

I think the most “impressive” Christian I sat with was an retired evangelical preacher. Despite his religion, the guy was very zen about it. “The Lord will reach down for me when it is time. I’m just going to enjoy what I have until then, and praise his name with my last breath.” But it wasn’t some kind of crazy thing, it was said very calmly, very matter-of-fact. He shrugged a little when he said it, like it was no big deal when he went.

That guy was of one of my favorite patients tbh. We’d go walking, and just chat about whatever our minds brought up. Wasn’t always deep stuff, sometimes it would just be swapping stories about ourselves. Never preached at me, not once, and I had let him know I was essentially atheist, but also Buddhist despite that. You’d think a retired preacher from the kind of church he was in would be all up my ass, but he never even hinted at that kind of thinking.

I came late to when he was passing. It was late at night, and he was a morning patient for me. He was pretty much non verbal the last two days, but he would reach out to people you hold their hands, and smile.

Some people really, truly believe. They can believe so deeply that death is either a momentary inconvenience between them and their afterlife, or is a very welcome gift from god. There’s no doubt in them, no fear, but also no desire to accelerate it.

Anyway, it’s obvious that nobody can speak for the billions of religious people in the world totally. Even as many deaths as I saw are a drop in an ocean of death. But it’s certain that religion can bring about what you’re asking.

Careful that’s how you end up drinking the blue Kool aid.

The ending of life is a sad thing, it can be frightening to imagine losing that control.

Faith is one form of trying to capture that control. Please try to cherish the life you have here and make the most of it. For most I suspect there’s no need to rush it.

It was actually her obsession with the afterlife and the coming of the end times that led to me cutting off contact with my mother in 2014 and me renouncing my faith.

My mom was a devout Christian my whole life, but she went full-on fire-and-brimstone Bible thumper during her divorce from my dad. My dad had cheated on her multiple times and she’d finally had enough of it.

She hated my dad for walking out, but vehemently denied that fact and instead projected her hatred onto God himself. She would always say my dad (and anyone who supported him on his side of the family) would be judged harshly for his actions in the next life. By the way, she said this about basically anyone she didn’t like, including people she disagreed with politically or morally; it might not surprise you to learn that she was quite a bigot as well.

In the last few years I knew her, she started to obsess over the prophecies in Revelations. She’d constantly send me chain emails about how the various conflicts in the middle east were a sign that Jesus Christ was about to return, or a misquoted article about the US government looking into identity microchips was Obama (the Antichrist, obviously) giving his followers the Mark of the Beast. The last time I spoke to her was in 2014 so I never got to ask her what she thought of Trump and his MAGA hats, but I have a strong feeling the irony would have been lost on her; I once had to explain to her that an article she showed me from The Onion was satire and her response was, “they shouldn’t be allowed to say those things.”

She died in 2020, but not from COVID. Two years earlier, she had let a kidney stone get infected which then progressed to full-on sepsis. It responded to the treatment at the time but the infection damaged her heart, which ended up killing her. For the life of me, I couldn’t imagine why she didn’t see a doctor because a kidney stone would have hurt like hell, but then I realized she probably felt that it was just God calling her home.

So yes, anecdotally speaking there are religious people out there who are obsessed with the afterlife. I think people are still inherently afraid of death, though, so they’re not exactly in a hurry to die. But for a religious person who’s ready to die, it’s likely nearly all they can think about.

So this turned into a bit of a rant and while it’s likely nobody cares I’ll post it anyway.

I don’t know about Christianity but at least in Islam this isn’t how it works. So there’s a hadith that says that death is the worst of what comes before it and the easiest of what comes after it, because the day of judgement is just that bad. There’s another that says that in the day of judgement it will be so hard that people will want Allah to start it even if they go to hell. No matter how much you think you’ve been a good person it’s not at all something to look forward to. And that’s not counting how even as a Muslim depending on what you did in your life, you could go to hell, spend a certain time there according to your sins in life and then go to heaven. Again not something most people want to find out, especially because Islam teaches that with the exception of prophets everyone sins and that we all need Allah’s forgiveness and mercy to go to heaven. The kind of arrogance it’d take to actually hope for death because you’re confident you’re going to heaven can in fact be the reason you go to hell. A devout Muslim will never think “oh I’ve been really good in life I can’t wait to die and go to heaven”.

Then we get into how in the day of judgement people will have mountains of good deeds and mountains of bad deeds and people’s (temporary; again all Muslims will eventually go to heaven) fate will be decided over a single good or bad deed. Most people thinking seriously about the afterlife will want to live as long as possible to do good deeds and beg god for forgiveness for their bad deeds. Again, no sane Muslim will think “yep, I’m doing alright, death please”.

That’s the reason the prohibition against suicide was introduced by the Catholic Church: people were killing themselves to go to Paradise. Why wait?

I am an atheist and have always been one, so feel free to reject what I say here, but I think I understand why they aren’t, and let me illustrate with a story from my own life:

When I was 26, I moved from the Indiana town where I had spent my whole life to Los Angeles for work. I left my parents, my friends, even my wife for six months because she was finishing grad school. I knew I would see them all again eventually, but I still didn’t want to leave them and if there were a way I could have delayed it for years but still have been able to have a dream job in L.A., I probably would have. The first night when I got to L.A., I cried and cried because of everything I had left behind even though I was looking forward to a bright new future.

So it’s not that they don’t want to go to the afterlife, it’s that they want to experience this life as long as possible. They want to be with all of their friends and family now, not wait for them all to die so they can be reunited in heaven.

I don’t know, it makes sense to me.

Yes. I’ve seen a religious person on their death bed saying that they have lived long enough and are ready for god to take them.

No matter how good the afterlife is, it’s not going anywhere. Life, however, is unique and finite and so should be savored.

We see this in some cultures. Classic folks songs from the antebellum United States (e.g. Swing Low, Sweet Chariot or Wayfaring Stranger ) welcome death with the promise of salvation or afterlife. And there are plenty of worship songs and hymns that praise the afterlife and the end of the world, as if these are good things to look forward to.

Part of this is because of the hierarchical system of middle ages feudalism. Death was always near anyway. Winter always had a body count. Child mortality was terrible (and it was always a happy thing when someone made majority at ~15, even if they were an idiot, antisocial or a bastard.) A bad run of harsh winters and poor crop yields — even a couple of sucky years — could spell famine for the entire region. There was always a labor shortage. Life for common folk was brief anyway, so there was seldom a need to hurry their way to heaven.

As for suicides, yes, there are proscriptions against needless suicide, but this doesn’t stop countless miserables from taking on a heroic task, that is, one in which they can die easily. Revolutionaries and suicide bombers emerge from this ilk. From the Troubles and the War on Terror, we learned that our terrorists were radicalized by circumstances in their life, and imams and priests would just point them in the direction where they could get arms or bombs and a target. When you have nothing to live for, it gets easy to look to divine wind opportunities, and consider ways to make a horrific mess, and news that bleeds.

In modern Christianity in the US, ministries look to fuel doubt in one’s own salvation. Jesus saves, but only if you’re in his in group, and He doesn’t select everyone (according to many preachers). I’ve noted this defeats the purpose, since the narrative is everyone sins, but only Jesus can forgive and making it sound like its a rare lottery ticket makes God sound more like an eldritch horror than a loving personal deity. During the protestant reformation, this was one of the reasons for the traditions Sola Fides (salvation by faith alone) and Sola Scriptura (guidance by scripture alone), so the individual parishioner doesn’t need a minister to guide them, but their salvation depends solely on their own relationship with God and scripture. In that regard, it’s possible to assume God is just and merciful and provides salvation for everyone. After all, God allegedly knows the circumstances of your life, and put you there.

But then it’s also common to imagine that we personally, and our local kin, are going to heaven and everyone we don’t like (e.g. Hitler) is burning in Hell for eternity, though that is just a failure of empathy, of recognizing that even the worst of us do not choose cruelty, suspicion and deception, rather were shaped to do so by the elements and society around us.

The good news is even the pope admits Only God knows the nature of the afterlife, how people are sorted. So we can assume He is reasonable and takes into account our circumstances, or He is an arbitrary monster, in which case our best behavior doesn’t matter. The natural world informs the latter, so we’re safer with the likelihood of oblivion ( All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain ) than an afterlife in which we are once again slaves to a parasitic system.

And speaking of us naturalists, how we define our lives and identity informs how we see mortality. An afterlife has an intersection with the transporter paradox (when Captain Kirk beams down, is it Kirk or Memorex? – that should date me.) In reality, while we don’t have breaks in consciousness by space, we have breaks in consciousness by time, hence the robots in Freefall are nervous about updates and reboots, and we may not be the same person when we wake up from a good night’s sleep (rather another iteration of ourselves, with all our bits and memories and thoughts.) End-of-life studies show that a lot of people on their death bed have more frequent, more prolonged periods of unconsciousness until one day they don’t wake up. So if we don’t exist after death, we may not exist under general anesthetic or during non-REM sleep.

(When you live, your thoughts, feelings, memories, sensations are all driven by your brain and nervous system. So when you die, if an afterlife continues your existence, it’s done by another medium, maybe a spirit-brain or magic brain or something that allows you to continue to think, perceive and exist. Otherwise, your soul could be in the center of the sun at 15 million Kelvins, and not even notice. So, assuming that Heaven and Hell exist, your physical brain won’t experience it, but some other version of you will, much like the simulation of you in Roko’s Basilisk.)

Others define our identities by any iteration of ourselves, which allows us to wake up and be the same person who went to bed. This can get interesting now that Deep South, a computer that can run computations nearly equivalent to a human brain, has been developed as proof-of-concept. Surely, our billionaires are wondering now to create a simulation of themselves, run by a Deep South system, and give it power of attorney over their estate upon the conclusion of their human life.

But that brings us to phase two of the transporter paradox, when a mishap creates a second Riker. The technician is saying hold on for a minute, we’ll get that dematerialized in a moment, but Riker-who-didn’t-leave is literally begging for his life. Who is the true Riker, and why isn’t it the other one?

And before you answer that question, Holodeck simulation Riker wants to raise a critical point about civil rights.

I’ve been reading Heaven’s River, the third fourth part of the Bobiverse series (which teems with replications of computer-simulation Bob, id est Robert Johansson) which discusses questions regarding replication drift (all the Bobs personalities diverge upon activation), and it does raise a specific illusion: Even as we live and age, we change and deviate from who we are at any previous given moment. Some of this is due to experience, other is due to age and development. So even if we could attain medical immortality, or run as a computer simulation on a robust machine with a perpetual service contract, we’d still drift away from our identity as defined in any given instant of time.

(Incidentally, the same thing can be said about any given religion and any given culture. They change continuously, and all efforts to preserve a given identity will prove futile as time pushes up mountains and the oceans erode them away again.)

So yeah. Memento Mori. Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero.

Edit: Draft pass

This is like saying that Atheists shouldn’t fear death because they know it will just be blank nothingness that they won’t perceive.

Fear of death doesn’t come from the logical part of our brains.

The good afterlife is only available to them if they have been “good people” while alive, and dying early is not being a “good person”. Also, after their death, they supposedly get “judged”, and everybody is going to worry about the X number of “sins” that they did during their life that might end them up in hell.

In roman-catholicism suicide is a bad thing that makes god angry. In the past, clerics said you would go to hell if you were to commit suicide. We also have the commandment that says “thou shall not kill”, which is shared with a lot of other religions. So, we are educated to not facilitate death, and I guess the idea is to die peacefully when death comes, thinking about the afterlife. Don’t think “exciting” is the goal here.

I had to sleep on this before coming up with a reply. As an individual who is not what you would call religiously devout, you can take it with a grain of salt. But whatever the case, here goes…

I grew up without religion for the most part but married a Catholic, and as musicians, we wound up playing at the local church.

As it stands, I would not say that I have bought into the whole religious faith thing at the deepest levels. That does not come easily for me. But I think it is fair to say that certain aspects of the religious experience have rubbed off?

In particular, I am more invested in the welfare of others ranging from my immediate family and friends (many of whom I met indirectly through church connections) to the community at large. As such, I am in no hurry to shuffle off at this point, as I feel there are people who depend on me and so I guess I still have unfinished business?

I don’t know what happens in any afterlife. Does anyone, really? Frankly, if we all just fade away into oblivion, I’d be satisfied to simply have a peaceful release from worldy concerns, but I don’t have any expectations beyond that.

Jesus’ verses to us about life being a gift resonate here. The duties we have aside that may shift the balance, it’s too unique an experience to say Heaven surpasses it in gift status. I wish I enjoyed mine more though, I’m more indifferent to it.

When I was in primary school with mandatory religious education this is how I saw it