Is God Dead? Let us Cross Over The River

From his deathbed in May of 1863, in his final moments, Confederate General Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson calmly said: “Let us cross over the river.” Jackson had spent the day fading in and out of consciousness, at times frantically shouting orders as if still in the fray of battle. Suddenly, it was reported that he became very calm, and his entire body, which had been fixed and rigid, relaxed at once. A slight and peaceful smile washed over his face. And in that final moment, Jackson gently said, “Let us cross over the river and rest under the shade of the trees.” Even now, as it was certainly then, one can only imagine what he saw as his life slipped away. In her memoir, Jackson’s wife, Mary Anna, wrote, “Was his soul wandering back in dreams to the river of his beloved Valley? . . . Or was he reaching forward across the River of Death, to the golden streets of the Celestial City, and the trees whose leaves are for the healing of the nations? It was there that God was bringing him, through his last battle and victory; and under their shade, he walks, with the blessed company of the redeemed.” The details of Jackson’s last moments are both moving and incredibly interesting, and yet such phenomena are common enough that the modern-day medical community regards these events as terminal lucidity. As we discovered last time, patients who have long since become catatonic due to disease or trauma affecting brain function often experience a brief moment of lucidity, allowing them to converse with those around them with incredible clarity and coherence shortly before they die. However, there are many cases of terminal lucidity in which patients converse with clarity and coherence with figures not physically present. Religious experience researcher Dale Allison, Jr. provides the following brief accounts as testimony: “All of a sudden, she [a dying cancer patient] opened her eyes. She called her [deceased] husband by name and said she was coming to him. She had the most peaceful, nicest smile, just as if she were going to the arms of someone she thought a great deal of. She said, ‘Guy, I am coming.’ She didn’t seem to realize I was there. It was almost as if she were in another world. It was as if something beautiful had opened up to her; she was experiencing something so wonderful and beautiful.” Another caregiver reported, “I recall the death of a woman who was the victim of . . . malignant cancer. Her sufferings were excruciating, and she prayed earnestly that death might speedily come to her and end her agony. Suddenly, her sufferings appeared to cease; the expression on her face, which a moment before had been distorted with pain, changed to one of radiant joy. Gazing upwards, with a glad light in her eyes, she raised her hands and exclaimed, ‘Oh, Mother dear, you have come to take me home. I am so glad!’ And in another moment, her physical life ceased.” As we alluded to last time, terminal lucidity and deathbed visions are not rare events; rather, they occur quite frequently, and they occur around the world. Allison suggests that in one study, forty-one percent of caregivers had personally witnessed a patient experiencing a deathbed vision. From Japan, another study reports thirty-nine percent of bereaved families reported their loved one having had a deathbed vision. And what are we to make of those caregivers and family members who report the presence of a great light? Eyewitnesses often describe the room as being filled with bright light—the light of an unknown source. For example: “When Mom died, everyone present saw the room fill with light from ‘an angelic presence.” Or, “There was what I can only describe as a white light or form around the top of her head and face. Her face looked radiant in all that very bright light.” Such stories seem to push credibility to the limit, and yet, again, these types of experiences are not one-off imaginings of attention-seekers; they are multiply attested. In fact, a recent survey indicates that thirty-two percent of professional caregivers have witnessed “luminous emanations” at one time or another. All told, something peculiar seems to be going on here. Scientists, holding to a materialist worldview, argue that end-of-life experiences are the product of evolutionary processes. Nevertheless, I ask, “To what benefit?” Evolution, it is argued, proceeds by natural selection for beneficial genetic changes. It seems to me there is no conceivable evolutionary benefit to dying peacefully as opposed to dying terrified. If we are all soulless composites of atoms only, what does it matter? Other scientists argue that deathbed experiences are nothing more than electrical surges through the dying brain. That may be true in some cases, but what about those who no longer have a brain left due to the destructive nature of cancer or meningitis—when there is no functional brain tissue remaining for electrical impulses to act upon? Even so, it is often reported they, too, experience events of terminal lucidity.