Christopher Hitchens is always an interesting read. I find his writing entertaining and found him to be a pleasant individual. Recently he wrote of his own impeding death.
In the preface to my first collection of essays, Prepared for the Worst, in 1988, I annexed a thought of Nadine Gordimer's, to the effect that a serious person should try and write posthumously. By that I took her to mean that one should compose as if the usual constraints -- of fashion, commerce, self-censorship, public and perhaps especially intellectual opinion -- did not operate. Impossible perhaps to live up to, this admonition and aspiration did possess some muscle, as well as some warning of how it can decay. Then, about a year ago, I was informed by a doctor that I might have as little as another year to live. In consequence, some of my recent articles were written with the full consciousness that they may be my very last. Sobering in one way and exhilarating in another, this practice can obviously never become perfected. But it has given me a more vivid idea of what makes life worth living, and defending.
This inspired me to reflect upon my own mortality. I, as is Hitchens, am an unbeliever. I lack a belief in a deity of any kind and I have no reason to assume there is life after death. That baffles the believers.
They seem unable to comprehend non-believers, especially those who have no fear of death. There is insecurity among them; they find it unsettling that others don't accept what they cling to so tenaciously. Some, to explain away the lack of fear pretended it existed and invented deathbed conversions for those who challenged them to think. Figures as diverse as Thomas Paine, Robert Ingersoll, Jean-Paul Sartre, and Charles Darwin have all been falsely credited with "seeing the light" and converting seconds before their deaths.
On three occasions, I assumed I would die -- not in the sense that we all assume we will die eventually, but imminently so. Oddly, all three occasions were in Nadine Gordimer's South Africa -- a nation that has had more than its share of dying. On the first occasion I almost drowned off the coast of Durban, but was rescued just before going under.
The second incident began as I was sleeping. Sean, my housemate, just left for work when something startled me and I jumped out of bed. The kitchen door opened and three men entered pushing Sean. Two of them were behind him. The third came toward me with a gun pointed at my forehead.
They tied my hands, as they had already done with Sean, and pushed me onto the bed. After ransacking the place, and beating me, they wanted the keys to other buildings on the property, where I had a business and ready cash. I told them where to find them but they took the wrong keys.
When the keys didn't work they came back and threatened loudly, furiously, and repeatedly to kill us. I laid there thinking that in a few seconds they would shoot Sean in the head and then do it to me. I don't remember feeling afraid, only concerned about Sean. After two more failed attempts to find the right keys, each followed by more threats and gun waving, they grabbed the correct keys and disappeared. I went to my office and called the police.
Months later I was standing at the bedroom window, waiting for Sean, who had just gone out the front door, to walk past. I would watch until he rounded the corner and then turn on a security camera to watch him get into his car and leave. All were precautions taken because of the previous attack.
Sean walked past but never reappeared on camera. Just as I was becoming impatient he walked past with two armed men behind him. I went to knock on the widow, to let them know they were seen and to show them a phone, but instead put my entire arm though it, shattering the glass in a loud explosion of shreds that flew outwards. The armed man turned and shot at me. The men fled and I called the police and then got Sean into the house.
In both incidents death seemed the likely outcome. Yet, that didn't worry me. I was far more upset that Sean was facing such violence.
That is what believers don't understand. Atheists tend to believe that life ends here; there is nothing beyond. Because there is nothing beyond life, there is nothing to fear. I don't fear because I don't believe.
A character in my novel City Limits expressed my view of life and death. Young Tony is dealing with the news that his mentor, Stella, is facing her own death. He was afraid to ask her about this because "he felt as if he were bringing death into her life in a way that she would never do herself." Stella patted his hand, comforting him and then she spoke.
"How did 1950 feel to you?" she asked him. Tony was confused. That was long before he was born. Stella knew this. Why ask such a question? But before he could respond, Stella answered the question herself."You didn't exist in 1950 and at some point in the future you will once again cease to exist. That's really it, you know. One day you came into being, and you sucked at life itself, grabbing everything you could. You learned, you lived, if lucky, you loved. And one day it simply ceases to be. What is there to fear? Did the time before your birth traumatize you or cause you pain? No. You weren't there to be traumatized or to feel pain. And someday you, and I as well, will simply stop being. It will be as it was for that eternity before our births. The world, for us, came into existence the day we were born and it will cease the day we die. There is an eternity after our death, and an eternity before our birth. Our life is like a slim, but wonderful book sitting between two vast bookends of nothingness. Why worry about the nothingness when we have such a wonderful volume in our hands right now?"
I don't worry about the nothingness, not when I have such a wonderful volume in my hands today. I think Hitchens would agree, even now as he reads his final chapter.
Taylor Glenn: The Smugness of the Recovered Christian
The world did not exist for us before we were born and ends for us when we die....but it was in existence……….. for those before and those after us.
There are similarities in the statements above, but are they the same?
Life continues to be a mystery to atheists and believers.
The excerpt from your book was enough for me. I will be buying a copy.
Thanks!
When I encourage "Christians" to live up to the example of their Lord and Savior, I receive more hatred and more scorn.
Since there are so few "true" Christians to refer people to, our job would be sisyphian.
Not all Atheists believe the same way as that is like saying that all religions are the same. Atheists just believe that there is not a "God" to answer to when you come to the end of your road. I believe that the only one you have to answer to is yourself in the end.
Thanks to Huffington Post for giving us a voice.
"That baffles the believers. They seem unable to comprehend non-believers, especially those who have no fear of death. There is insecurity among them; they find it unsettling that others don't accept what they cling to so tenaciously. "
It is a very limited perspective, and inaccurate when speaking in sweeping terms.
I didn't mention whether or not I was scared of sleep. Being 'gone' for a few hours doesn't bother me though. Perhaps I should clarify. I fear the event that precedes permanent lack of consciousness, because I like 'being'. Another irrational fear.
So yes, I am human and have an irrational fear of death. I guess it could make sense if you look at it from an evolutionary perspective though.
You're looking at it the wrong way around. Is there solid evidence that shows there aren't invisible fire breathing unicorns living in the hollow centre of one of the moons of Jupiter? No, of course not. Do you believe that there are? No, of course not. Most religious claims are the same, when it comes to extraordinary, unsupported claims like life after death, the existence of gods and heavens etc, the default position is disbelief not belief.
See: http://revolutionofreason.com and http://www.youtube.com/RobertLBlackburn
The world is so vast, there is so much to learn, so many things to experience, so many people and things to interact with, so many lifepaths to take. I wish I could get a taste of all these things, but since I am well aware that I have this one life I try to make the most of this one and help people along my way towards my inevitable end of existence.
Who knows. If humanity wisens up, learns to put away its differences and scientific and moral progress doesn't stop, it might very well be that in the future the disease of aging will be a very easily treatable one and future Adams will get their wish of a thousand year long life.
-- Epicurus
Written by Steve Turner:
If chance be the Father of all flesh,
disaster is his rainbow in the sky,
and when you hear
State of Emergency!
Sniper Kills Ten!
Troops on Rampage!
Whites go Looting!
Bomb Blasts School!
It is but the sound of man worshiping his maker.
“Live a good life. If there are gods and they are just, then they will not care how devout you have been, but will welcome you based on the virtues you have lived by. If there are gods, but unjust, then you should not want to worship them. If there are no gods, then you will be gone, but will have lived a a noble life that will live on in the memories of your loved ones.” - Marcus Aurelius