July 21st, 2009 by Kristi Stephens

Image by Christopher Chan via Flickr

I listened to something heartbreaking this weekend on NPR. I was in and out of the car running errands, but I actually considered just sitting in my car in the Walmart parking lot to listen to more of this episode of This American Life.

What caught my attention was that they were interviewing people who have a deep and gripping fear of sleep. It started out somewhat lighthearted, but toward the end several people shared how their fear of sleep is connected to their very real fear of death. In the twilight between sleep and wakefulness, they come face to face with the reality of death. They literally cannot breathe, grasp their sheets with all their might, and try to keep from screaming out in terror.

As one person said, he watches the clock, knowing he is watching time march on closer to the end of his life. The fear: the cessation of self. Nothingness.

The program was closed with a haunting poem by Philip Larkin called “Aubade.”

…And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true.

This is a special way of being afraid
No trick dispels. Religion used to try,
That vast, moth-eaten musical brocade
Created to pretend we never die…

My heart wept as I listened to this program. How poignant it is that Paul refers to those without Christ as those who have no hope.

I cannot even imagine being gripped with a fear like this. The dying process doesn’t sound that great, and I surely am not looking forward to that. But death itself?

I am currently reading a book called Notes from the Tilt-a-whirl, which I will be reviewing here soon. I love that he describes our lives on earth as a carnival. Death? Death is simply reaching the black stripe above your head that means you get to go on to the “gnarly rides.”

What a ride it will be.

Those who have no hope think I am foolish. They believe, as Larkin states, that I have based my life upon an illusion, a “moth-eaten musical brocade created to pretend we never die.”

In the words of Paul,

Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.
I Thessalonians 4:13-14

Where, O death, is your victory? Where is your sting?