Overcoming the Taboo of Death through Knowledge, not Religion
- Stephen Cugley
- May 13, 2016
- 10 min read

We live in a strange society that values youth, beauty (often skin deep), celebrity and money. For me these are symptoms of a society that is permeated by materialism, that is, the belief system that what we perceive with our five senses is the only thing that exists. The majority of us in the West have a good lifestyle that satisfies most of our desires. As the TV advertisement for the appliance manufacturer says, ‘Life is good.’ But we have constructed a cocoon around ourselves to insulate us from a tide of suffering and pain in the world, and we dwell in small and extremely fragile ecosystems called families for nurturing and protection. This is a closed system and all is well until tragedy strikes in the form of the death of a loved one. Suddenly the closed system of materialism is ruptured and we are forced to confront an entirely different reality and set of values that belong to the cosmos, rather than our own little lives. Death inflicts a wound on the person left behind, a wound that takes time to heal and reminds us of another reality.
In Victorian times and down to the 1960s sex was a taboo subject, not discussed in polite company. But nowadays death is the big taboo due to rampant materialism. In the past when someone died the body was kept at home for several days and people could sit quietly with the corpse, to reflect and say their farewells. But now the funeral industry is so efficient. The body is whisked away as soon as possible and we deal with the unwanted visitor of ‘Death’ on our doorstep as best we can. But knowledge is power and if we understand the intricate process involved when a soul departs from the physical body then surely we are in a better space, and able to handle what comes. In this post I wish to reframe the conversation by talking about death from a spiritual perspective.
You could not meet my teacher Mario Schoenmaker without realizing that a remarkable man was standing in front of you. I experienced him as someone who walked with Christ and this shaped his understanding of himself and others. When he looked at someone he saw the Christ in them as a potential. As Paul of Tarsus says, ‘Christ in you, the hope of glory’ (Colossians 1:27). One of the fundamental problems with contemporary Christianity is that the intimate connection between Christ and the high value placed on human identity has been lost.
1. Staying Connected with the Departed Soul through Spirituality rather than Religion
The spectacular failures of institutionalized Christianity can be attributed to a range of factors, but from the time when Constantine the Roman Emperor got involved in 313 CE the organization became political. At the Council of Nicaea (325) he set up the bureaucratic structure of the church using the template of the Roman senate, and henceforth power was vested in a hierarchy of bishops and priests. On the one hand theologies promoted the power and majesty of Christ as the unique Son of God who died for humanity, was resurrected, and ascended into heaven. On the other hand emphasis was placed on the sinful status of puny men and women who fall well short of his exalted status. In this political model, then, the divinity of Christ was used to drive a wedge between God and humanity, authorizing church leaders to function as mediators who claim to represent him. In my reading of the gospels Christ came for all humanity and yet one group, fractured into numerous denominations, has claimed him and men in funny hats and antique robes allegedly speak on his behalf. ‘Christ in you’ became ‘Christ in the church hierarchy’ contributing to the glory of a human institution.
According to the parable of the sower (Matthew 13:1-9) Christ is a hidden power working on our souls. And if we take the existence of our souls seriously then we can begin to understand the redemptive power of the living gospel as a force for change in our lives. At funerals (or thanksgiving services) Mario would emphasize that the soul is alive in the consciousness of family members and friends mourning for the one who has crossed the dark threshold into a world of living light. At a recent funeral I was pleased to hear the poem by Henry Scott Holland recited at the beginning of the service:
Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away to the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other, that, we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Our friend was acknowledged and included as a real but invisible participant in the happenings. The poem conveys the presence of the soul in simple terms related to everyday life, devoid of religious sentiment and flowery language. The person we love has stripped off the mortal robe of the physical body, and now lives in a different sphere of existence but remains connected with us. But the atmosphere changed when the Christian pastor spoke, with great sincerity, and told us that his friend was a Christian and that she is now in heaven with Jesus. Hallelujah! The door in heaven slams shut! End of story! The problem, though, is that this is not the end of the story and we know it. I experienced a fundamental disconnect between the poem affirming the soul’s presence, and the old Christian dogma that if you believe in Christ as your saviour then after death you will be miraculously lifted up into heaven to dwell in bliss. It is extremely painful for the soul when a loved one severs the connection by believing they are in heaven, or due to the materialistic thinking of an atheist or agnostic who thinks death is the absolute end. Both belief systems have the same effect of cutting us off from the soul.
The ‘top down’ approach of imposing religious doctrines doesn’t work anymore. People do not buy the empty rhetoric and hollow promise of eternal life as a cheap barter for blind faith. The great lie of orthodox Christianity is that mindless and self-interested belief in the doctrine of ‘Christ as my saviour’ guarantees a Christian resurrection and the payoff of eternal life. In my first year at university I encountered an American evangelist called Harvey who was paid a healthy stipend to swan around the campus, play squash with undergraduates, and try to convert them to his brand of Christianity. He approached me full of confidence and the first thing he said was, ‘Have you got everlasting life, man?’ And, of course, did I want it. I replied, ‘But isn’t that a selfish motivation for becoming a Christian?’ What could he say? His spiel fell flat. He converted two of my close friends (temporarily), but he couldn’t crack this nut. Thinking young people want to find their own answers to the great questions of existence, and express what lives in their hearts. This is the sure sign of a positive development in human consciousness because faith has been replaced by a quest for knowledge.
I attended a second funeral recently that was led by a civil celebrant and she brought a wonderful mix of empathy and spirituality to the sad occasion. She introduced the hope of the gospel by reading from John 14:1-6, ‘In my father’s house there are many rooms …,’ as well as leading us in reciting the Lord’s Prayer. I experienced her as a channel of Christ and afterwards I shared that sense with her, that she was preaching the gospel in a powerful ‘secular’ form that strengthens and comforts those who mourn. What we need is more of this kind of spirituality – which we all have, believers, agnostics and atheists – and less organized religion that has become such a divisive force in the world, undermining who we really are.
2. Reincarnation and the Growing Pearl of Great Price
What is a viable Christian teaching concerning the afterlife? Even though Christ is divine and dwells far beyond our level of being, he assumed human form as Jesus of Nazareth. And as a consequence he is the ultimate exemplar of what it means to be fully human because of what came to fruition during his earthly life. The problem is that none of us is anywhere near embodying his love, compassion and goodness. I do not like the word ‘perfect,’ but let us say that we are far from complete human beings who have learnt all the lessons that earthly existence can teach us. At this point esoteric knowledge (the word ‘esoteric’ means ‘inner’ or ‘secret’) can help make sense of the gospel that Jesus taught, gnosis in the Greek sense of ‘inner knowing’ that was lost in the church by the fourth century. He asks his disciples who people think he is, and they reply that some say he is Elijah the prophet who lived 900 years earlier in Palestine (Matthew 16:13-14) And in Matthew 11:14 Jesus states that ‘John is Elijah.’ This belief that Israelite prophets from the past reincarnate was widespread in the first century. According to John’s gospel (9:1-12) the disciples walked past a man and asked Jesus, ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?’ The question presupposes belief in reincarnation because if the man’s own sin caused the physical defect then his soul must have committed the misdeed in a previous lifetime. From this we can infer that Jesus taught his disciples the doctrine of reincarnation and some early church fathers, like Origen of Alexandria, followed suit. Nowadays the idea of reincarnation is usually associated with Buddhism and Hinduism, but Mario reconnected with ancient traditions and taught it as part of a Christian philosophy.
If we place this teaching into the context of death and contemplate the resurrection then it is obvious that the realization of human potentials is envisaged as a long journey spanning many lifetimes. At this deeper level of the gospel, the fairy tale of eternal life in heaven as a miracle in the afterlife evaporates. The old saying is true, ‘As you live, so will you die.’ We are imperfect in life and imperfect in death. The soul has not changed, except that the physical body has been relinquished. In the place of wishful thinking, though, there is a sense of the soul gradually growing more Christ-like, lifetime after lifetime, like the exquisite pearl in Jesus’ story:
The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls. On finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it (Matthew 13:45-46).

The pearl of great price as a metaphor for the soul growing into the
consciousness that is the kingdom of heaven.
The slow and intricate process of a natural pearl forming within the shell of an oyster is a powerful metaphor for the soul growing into the consciousness referred to as ‘the kingdom of heaven’ in the New Testament. The unique lustre of a pearl depends upon the reflection, refraction, and diffraction of light from the translucent layers. The thinner and more numerous the layers in the pearl, the finer the lustre. The iridescence is caused by the overlapping of successive layers that breaks up light falling on the surface. When we die the experiences and knowledge of this lifetime will be absorbed into our soul in the form of wisdom, symbolized by one coating of mother of pearl. In the course of successive lifetimes the soul grows richer and more precious as one metaphorical layer after another is deposited.
The graphic imagery is drawn from a rare occurrence when a piece of grit becomes lodged in the flesh of an oyster, and the organism overcomes the constant irritation by secreting calcium carbonate. And the tiny particle of sand or grit comes to exist at the centre of a natural pearl. The metaphor indicates that it is not easy to live for one’s soul. The cost involves orientating ourselves towards the kingdom of heaven and its values, not the materialistic kingdom of this world. There is always a reminder, sometimes an irritation, that there is another level of reality to take into account. The merchant is the person who has an awakening and becomes aware of their soul and decides to change priorities by selling possessions, with the aim of acquiring something that cannot be valued in earthly terms. This awakened person becomes actively involved in fostering the inner life unto the ‘salvation’ of becoming whole. This is a sobering message of living with a focus on a reality beyond the world, and undertaking hard work on self that somehow involves the grace of God.
To understand the resurrection we need another organic metaphor, this time of a seed. There is a link between the process undergone by Christ and what we experience after death, but the actuality of his resurrection only exists in seed form in our case. Hopefully in the course of these lives, connected by karma, we are growing in wisdom and our capacity to love and serve humanity, until eventually we too like Christ can experience the complete transformation of the physical body into a spirit body. The Johannine Christ tells us, ‘I AM the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me, though they die, yet will they live. And whoever lives and believes in me will never die’ (John 11:25). The two statements are sequential. Currently we die but our soul lives on in the afterlife, and if we have lived well then the seed-like power of his resurrection is working within us. And eventually, not now, but in centuries or millennia, there will come a time when we will no longer die because we have realized who we are, and stand in eternity. Then we can truly say, with the Lord of our life, ‘I AM.’

The ‘dark threshold’ is really only dark from an earthly perspective of ignorance and fear, for the soul blends into the light of the eternal.
3. Future Posts
In the next two blogs I want to have a conversation with you about the reality of death, what it involves, how we can assist those who have passed over the threshold, how we can stay connected with the dead, and what preparations we can make for our own demise. We will explore the process of dying from a spiritual perspective, and what we can do in practical terms to help someone who has died. I will include some tips on designing a funeral for someone else or yourself, including a checklist.
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