Beyond Heaven and Earth

by Steven H. Propp

  However—as with almost everything about Judaism—there is an exception. Only a suicide performed “with one’s full wits” is considered as grievously sinful. Thus, there are other factors that must be taken into consideration in assessing the degree of guilt of a suicide: A person under severe mental stress, or in extreme physical pain when committing suicide, may be judged as not having been in full possession of his or her faculties, and can consequently have all the traditional burial and mourning rites observed. King Saul, who threw himself upon his own sword (1 Sam 31:4), is sometimes suggested to have been in such a condition. Similarly, the Jewish soldiers who killed each other when hopelessly surrounded by the Roman forces at Masada, or Jewish prisoners who killed themselves or each other rather than being tortured and then killed by the Nazis, may similarly have been innocent of self-murder. The influence of alcohol or drugs can also mitigate the guilt of a suicide.

  Finally, even in cases where the suicide was done with full awareness, the person might have repented or changed his mind while actually dying, which reduces the guilt. Consequently, in Reuven Bulka’s book, What You Thought You Knew About Judaism, it is said that, “For all intents and purposes, it can be assumed that one who commits suicide did so without full wits, and there is no justifiable reason to refrain from a respectful farewell and burial.” Another consideration is that there are only about five direct references in the Old Testament to people that commit suicide (Judges 9:53, Judges 16:29, 2 Sam 17:23, 1 Kings 16:18, and 1 Chr 10:4-5), and none of these explicitly speaks against the person’s act. So in general terms, Judaism leaves a considerable degree of room for hope, even in cases of suicide.

  Except that none of these exceptions pertain to Abraham’s case. Although he had contracted AIDS, it was early enough in the progression of the virus that he was apparently not suffering from any debilitating effects yet. (So much so, that none of us even would have suspected that he had HIV or AIDS!) He was not even suffering from any social stigmatism or ostracism yet, since his condition was unknown. Abraham seldom drank (except apparently during one of his “episodes”), and his advance planning and careful preparations—as well as the forethought shown by personally-delivering his suicide note while he knew I would be at Ted’s funeral—show that he was behaving in a quite logical, rational manner. Furthermore, his manner of death (gunshot to the head) would probably have been too swift to allow for any possibility of “second thoughts,” much less any chance for repentance of the act. Unfortunately, from the standpoint of Judaism (and what other standpoint can you start with, for a rabbi?), there is little basis for hope, and much basis for anxiety.

  Are Christian theologians any more optimistic? Hard to say: after searching through the Indexes of my dozens of volumes of Systematic Theology, I discovered that the topic of “Suicide” is almost never mentioned—and where it is mentioned, it is only briefly. In Charles Hodge’s 2250-page Systematic Theology, for example, he gives only one paragraph to the issue of suicide. (Which he states results in the “loss of the soul,” naturally.) Similarly, the only explicit New Testament reference to suicide is in the case of Judas hanging himself (Matthew 27:5) after betraying Jesus. While this action is hardly one to encourage us to “Go and do likewise,” it is significant that as with the Old Testament, this passage does not explicitly condemn Judas’s action. (And who knows? Maybe his intention was to perform some kind of expiatory action, rather than simply running from his responsibility.)

  Nevertheless, I am forced to admit that the Catholic Church, the Eastern Orthodox Church, as well as theologically conservative Protestants consider suicide to be a grave sin, and one probably meriting eternal damnation. (And of course, since I am in the process of converting, the Catholic point of view is supposedly my point of view.) Traditionally, Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy even refuse Christian Burial to one who was judged to be in sound mind and full possession of reason at the time of the suicide. For example, the old Baltimore Catechism No. 3 (which never bothers to “sugarcoat” anything) taught (#1274) that “It is a mortal sin…to commit suicide…and persons who willfully and knowingly commit such an act die in a state of mortal sin and are deprived of Christian burial.”

  Preeminent theologian Augustine said in the City of God (Bk I, 20) that suicide was a rejection of God and of God’s will, and was particularly sinful since it allowed no time for repentance. He also interpreted the 5th commandment as prohibiting suicide—since whoever kills himself still kills man, which is what is prohibited by the commandment. St. Thomas Aquinas said that suicide was contrary to the divine law, which declares that life is God’s greatest gift to men, and that God alone has power over life and death (Wisdom 16:13), and God alone can say when life shall begin and when it shall end. He further said that since every creature naturally attempts to preserve its own life and resists forces that would destroy it, suicide is also contrary to the natural law. The argument that the suicide may have been a person who was suffering did not impress St. Thomas, since Christians are called to endure sufferings in imitation of Christ’s own sufferings (2 Cor 4:17). Finally, Thomas agreed with Aristotle that by taking one’s own life, one is also depriving the community of that which belongs to rightfully belongs to it: a useful citizen. Finally, suicide is taking a power over life and death that rightly belongs to God alone. The Christian perspective is thus even more bleak than in Judaism.

  However, even as with Judaism, while every act of suicide is mortally sinful, it does not necessarily follow that every man who commits suicide is guilty of mortal sin. To commit a mortal sin requires not only the act, but also that the person be in sound mind, such that the sinful choice is made with full freedom and deliberation. Theologians apparently admit that sometimes it is very difficult to determine whether or not the person was really sane at the time he committed the act; and thus, the suicide is sometimes given the benefit of the doubt with regard to burials, etc. Moreover, if there are good reasons to believe that a suicide was not in his normal senses—for example, if the person was in ill health, or severely depressed; and 95% of suicides have a diagnosable psychiatric illness—the Church may permit Catholic burial, particularly since charity would demand that we give the person the benefit of any doubts.

  So in fact, the Catholic Church steadfastly refuses to judge whether or not an individual person will go to Hell as a result of suicide; there may be invisible orders of grace in operation, which the Church cannot perceive. Thus, the Church cannot evaluate the individual’s subjective responsibility, which depends on his state of mind, his degree of consent, and so on. Furthermore, even in cases of apparent guilt, there may have been an extraordinary act of God’s mercy that intervened between the sin, and the actual death of the individual, enabling repentance to take place.

  But again, these extenuating circumstances do not seem applicable in Abraham’s case. In Catholicism, suicide to avoid pain is definitely forbidden by God, and is a violation of God’s supreme dominion over human life. If God wills a person to live on in a suffering condition (and God obviously could end the sufferer’s life by an act of His will), then how can we contradict God’s wishes? After all, man is not independent of God, to do with himself—or do away with himself—as he pleases, right?

  So here I sit, facing squarely up to the “other side of the coin,” with regard to Life After Death. I have been so focused on the possibility of joyful reunion with Sophia, that I completely ignored the other aspects of the issue. Namely: If you believe in the possibility of eternal life, then you also believe in at least the possibility of eternal damnation.

  The prospect of Hell held no terrors for me when I was discussing the matter with the fundamentalist Pastor who thought that all Catholics go to Hell, since I really didn’t think there was any conceivable chance that Sophia was truly damned. But in Abraham’s case, I am presented squarely with the realistic possibility of the eternal damnation of someone I both knew, and loved.

  I
n some ways, I now find myself envying Ted’s position: the perspective of the atheist—that there is nothing but emptiness, and thus peace, beyond the grave— would actually be a comfort to me now. If Ted was right, then he simply went into a state of non-existence upon his death; he is not being tormented, nor will he ever come back to earthly life. He now “exists” only in the memory of those of us who cared for him, and in the works he did on Earth. It is as if he simply went to sleep, and never woke up.

  But suppose that Ted wasn’t right? What if there really is such a thing as eternal damnation? At the very moment I am writing this, it seems entirely possible theologically that both he and Abraham are presently suffering the torments and anguish of the damned, and will continue to do so for all of eternity. Jesus is reported to have said, “And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out: it is better for thee to enter into the kingdom of God with one eye, than having two eyes to be cast into hell fire. Where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched.” (Mk 9:47-48) Such sayings are as well-attested as any sayings of Jesus that we have. Am I then, as a professing Christian, required to believe in Hell?

  What would be the function of Hell, anyway? I’ve been critical of the Catholic doctrine of Purgatory all along, yet at least the sufferings of Purgatory are thought of as being in some sense redemptive—your sufferings are not without purpose, because they will ultimately purge the unworthiness of your soul so that you are able to enter the bliss of Heaven. But Hell is another matter; even if it is supposed to stand as some kind of “eternal witness to the righteousness of God,” it is still hard to see its ongoing function. Maybe that’s why many theologians (including even relatively conservative ones such as Hans Urs Von Balthasar, John Stott, Clark Pinnock, John Wenham, and Edward Fudge) find it hard to reconcile the notion of God’s love with the notion of eternal conscious torment—day and night, forever and ever. For me, it would be so much easier, rationally, to believe in the eternal annihilation of the wicked, such as the Jehovah’s Witnesses and Seventh-Day Adventists teach. If it were up to me, that is certainly how things would be.

  But of course, it isn’t up to me; nor is annihilation the historical teaching of the main body of the Christian Church. I suppose that was part of the point of that Calvinist minister: If God wants to make one vessel unto honor, and another unto dishonor, who are we to talk back to God? We might just be forced into silence, as was Job.

  But why should suicide be such a grievous sin? In the early centuries of the Christian era, some Christians actively courted martyrdom—which they were taught, would deliver them into blessedness immediately—and such persons are considered heroes by Christians; yet isn’t seeking martyrdom close to suicide? Even if suicide is contrary to the will of God, why should this one sin be so disproportionately punished? People do things contrary to the will of God constantly, but they aren’t damned for doing so. If we marry the wrong spouse, we may be “stuck” with our choice here on Earth, but we aren’t cast into the Lake of Fire as a result. We aren’t thrown into the pit when we drive our cars in a crazy, reckless manner, are we? Eating, drinking, and smoking too much leads to our early death, but smokers and drinkers aren’t refused Christian burial, are they?

  And what of my recently-adopted religion of Catholicism? Religion is supposed to be able to comfort people in times of trouble; what would I have told Abraham—from the Catholic perspective—if I had been given the chance to counsel him? I imagine that I would have been supposed to advise him that while a homosexual orientation was not in itself sinful, homosexual behavior was—particularly when it is conducted in a random, promiscuous manner, with men you encounter in bars and bathhouses. I presume that I was supposed to tell him that his disease may have actually have been a blessing in disguise, as it would prevent him from carrying on his sinful activity, and his earthly suffering may have been intended to have a redemptive effect on his soul. So I imagine that, as a ‘good Catholic,’ I would have been supposed to tell him to just “take up your cross, and bear it, even as Christ did.”

  But, although I am now committed to the Catholic religion, I can’t—in all good conscience—believe that this would have been the “proper” course to have taken. Although I was surprised to learn of Abraham’s sexual orientation and/or behavior, it in no way diminishes the respect and love that I had for him: He was an intelligent, sensitive, concerned and committed man, and it was a privilege to have known him, and to have been his friend. If he will spend eternity in torment for his deeds…well, then I’m not sure but that I deserve the same, for my own behavior fails the test of charity, of love, because I failed to love my brother as myself. By being so self-absorbed, I failed not only myself and my friend, but I failed God.

  “Why didn’t you stay and fight it, Abe? Why would you let a few bigots drive you from your religion so easily?”

  * * *

  I just realized that I had forgotten one rather obvious source to check: The Catechism of the Catholic Church, in which I now read the following words:

  2282 Grave psychological disturbances, anguish, or grave fear of hardship, suffering, or torture can diminish the responsibility of the one committing suicide.

  2283 We should not despair of the eternal salvation of persons who have taken their own lives. By ways known to him alone, God can provide the opportunity for salutary repentance. The Church prays for persons who have taken their own lives.

  Well, if it was not exactly “comforting” for my soul, at least it was a positive step beyond the old Baltimore Catechism. I suppose that it will have to be comfort enough for me. Thus, I now write—as well as fervently pray—the following words:

  Goodbye, Abraham—my dear, wonderful friend.

  Although in a different way than my darling Sophia, I truly loved you.

  You were a cherished friend, and a true companion along life’s way.

  I miss you dearly; but yet I allow myself to hope that we shall meet again, some day.

  Someplace beyond this world;

  Someplace where there is only a spirit of love, and not of condemnation;

  Someplace where our spirits can be free;

  Forever.

  Suddenly, the phone rang. Almost as a premonition, I knew what it was about. It was someone calling to let me know that my friend had been found dead.

  31

  JOY TO THE WORLD

  On Christmas Eve, the buses operate on a limited schedule, so Jobran is walking home at about 7:00 PM, the bus he had to take from work dropping him off half-a-mile further away than his normal bus. At least it’s not too cold, even if it’s dark, Jobran thought as he began to walk up the freeway overpass. Hopefully, there won’t be any muggers out on Christmas Eve.

  Halfway across the overpass, he happens to glance up and sees something large and dark attached to the safety fence lining the overpass. Looking more carefully, he realizes it is a man, clinging tightly to the wire fence, with nothing between him and falling to the freeway below but air.

  “My God, hold on!” Jobran shouted at him. “How did you get up there? Don’t let go, I’ll get someone to call 911!”

  “Don’t call anyone!” came a frantic voice from the fence above. “If you do, I’ll throw myself off, head first! Right when a car is coming!”

  Jobran was stunned, and finally the realization dawned on him that this person was a potential suicide. Frantically, Jobran looked for a way of reaching the man, but he couldn’t see any way of climbing up the fence (which had been too well-designed to easily permit such attempts)—until he saw a gap in the fence, and realized that the wire had been cut with a pair of wire cutters, that were still laying on the sidewalk. Trying to force his voice to sound calm, Jobran called out, “OK, relax, I’m not going to call anybody.” He held out his empty hands, and said, “Look, I don’t even have a cell phone. But why don’t you let me help you down from there, so we can talk?”

&n
bsp; “I don’t want to talk to anybody! You can’t change my mind, anyway,” came the reply.

  “That’s fine,” Jobran said, “But don’t you even have any last wishes you want me to tell to anybody? Anyone you want me to give a last message to?”

  There was a moment of silence, then he heard a crazed laugh, followed by, “Yeah, sure! You can talk to my goddam fucking ex-boss! Tell him to go stick his fucking ‘Letter of Recommendation’ up his ass! The heartless bastard!”

  Trying to keep his voice sounding helpful and reasonable, Jobran said, “Who is your ex-boss? How can I reach him?”

  “He’s the son-of-a-bitch night shift manager at E-Z Cleaning Services, and he just fired me on Christmas Eve! Fucking piece of shit is contracting out all the work to Mexican immigrants, and he’s firing all of us. Oh, yeah, and you can tell my landlord and all the goddam bill collectors to go fuck themselves! They can’t get anything more from me now, can they?” and he laughed maniacally. “Goddam bloodsucking leeches! They’ll be sorry!”

  Jobran tried a ploy, saying, “Wouldn’t you rather tell them off yourself? Why don’t you come down from there, and then you can tell them yourself exactly what you think of them? Just get on the phone and call them.”

  “Phone?!” the voice laughed uproariously. “It’s been turned off for a week! And I finally get home tonight and find out that they turned the power! And its Christmas Eve! So even if I had any money, I couldn’t get the power turned back on. I only have electric heat in the apartment—I’ll freeze to death!”