Abstract
It would seem that death is ‘having a moment’, if that were not such a patently absurd observation, given its universality and determinative character for the human condition. Yet death features in the current zeitgeist in ways that would have been unimaginable only a few years ago: ‘death cafés’, internet chatrooms dedicated to death, and books both popular and academic written on the topic by everyone from medical and forensic specialists, to philosophers and ethicists. While this phenomenon may at least in part be related to changing demographic profiles in Europe and North America (for instance, the baby-boomers have clearly reached an age and stage where this topic has an existential urgency), for a number of reasons this public engagement with issues of ageing, death and dying is to be welcomed.
Some of these reasons, which she calls ‘pressure points’, are named by Autumn Alcott Ridenour in the introduction to Sabbath Rest as Vocation: ‘images of glorified youth’, which are pervasive (not just) in marketing and advertising (p. 1); the transhumanist movement, which seeks to eradicate the suffering associated with ageing, dying and death by changing the very nature of being human; and medical approaches, which, however laudable the motivations and ends, seem to emphasise cure over care in ways that are inadequate or even problematic for facing the realities of human finitude and mortality. I would add at least one other reason, namely that our social imaginary does not provide us with appropriate templates for how to face the changes of the ageing process, let alone the challenges and suffering which often accompany dying and death. While Ridenour does not name this issue or address it explicitly, her engagement contributes to the current discussions which are beginning to create an imaginary. However, as Ridenour demonstrates regarding the transhumanist movement and medical approaches, there are, in fact, competing imaginaries in need of examination and illumination through the lens of Christian theology.
Ridenour’s approach is to look in detail at the work of Augustine of Hippo and Karl Barth to discover how they saw ageing and death (chapters 1 and 2, respectively). These topics are discussed by both theologians as having negative as well as positive significance: ageing and death entail loss in a variety of forms; yet they are also constitutive of human finitude and ultimate dependence on God.
Her next consideration is to look at the Christology of Augustine and Barth (chapters 3 and 4, respectively) on the grounds that Jesus Christ is the model for understanding how humanity and faithful living should be. She names the obvious difficulty with this approach, namely that, although Jesus died and this (along with his resurrection) is central to the faith, he did not experience ageing or living with the challenges of old age. However, she argues that ‘turning to the person and work of Christ illuminates not only desirable qualities and characteristics for those aging individuals, but also the renewed image of God that teaches a new way to be human and thus a new way to be old’ (p. 101). The key features of this renewed humanity she discovers in both Augustine and Barth relate to wisdom and knowledge. Drawing on Augustine, together with W.H. Vanstone’s discussion of Jesus as ‘waiting’ in the gospels of Mark and John, highlights the role of both contemplation and action in union with Christ to enable this sense of renewed humanity. In Barth’s Christology, she finds something analogous to this pairing of contemplation and action: a discussion of Christ’s active and passive agency, which can have direct impact on our understanding of the agency of ageing and dying persons, as well as implications for considering the interdependence of persons.
Only when she has done this theological work does Ridenour begin the more constructive work of discussing ‘the virtues of aging’ (chapter 5), which she considers both for those who are ageing and for those who are accompanying them. The virtues for the ageing, in her view, are: humility, gratitude, generosity, wisdom, prudence, fortitude, and hope. And those for the surrounding community are: respect, friendship, justice, mercy, and love.
The book is the publication of Ridenour’s doctoral thesis (done at Boston College under the supervision of Lisa Sowle Cahill, among others), and this is evident through the virtues of her detailed engagement with central figures of Christian theology, and thoughtful discussion of some of the most prominent contemporary work on Augustine and Barth. Despite the detail of her treatment, she retains the focus on how their theology might address the question of how we are to understand ageing, dying and death. For instance, while discussing Augustine’s understanding of death, she writes, In terms of contemporary medical ethics, an Augustinian approach carves out a mean between the extremes, teaching us neither to seek out the illusion of a ‘good death’ through active euthanasia made justifiable through a more Stoic position, nor aggressively deny physical death through grasping onto this material life by means of an illusory salvation through medical technology as a kind of false idol (p. 45).
Similarly, current realities are in view when Ridenour examines Barth’s understanding of death: ‘The realities of death and aging are strongly situated in the shadow of the Creator-creature break. Nevertheless, whether facing pain or joy, humanity is not alone when experiencing death and aging—for the God in Christ is present with both the individual and body of Christ, providing opportunity for participation in Him by grace’ (p. 99).
Overall, Ridenour’s structure is clear, and her argument is tightly constructed in the main. However, although it may simply be a product of my own tidy-mindedness, I found myself wishing for either a more compact structure or a stronger rationale for some of the choices. For instance, although W.H. Vanstone’s work is compelling, I was not persuaded that it fully belongs in a discussion of Barth’s Christology. Also, I would have liked to see stronger links between the theological work of the earlier chapters and her discussion of virtues in the final chapter, where in a number of instances she turns to different themes and sources. I also have a number of other concerns in this final chapter: her discussion of those who are ageing seems to imagine only those who are essentially well, at least in mind (the mention of the potential for the changes of ageing to be experienced as loss does not, to my mind, do the issues justice, p. 218); there is no explicit look at when and how the virtues she names might be learned, acquired or given (and no recognition that by the point in ageing when the need for them might become apparent, it may be a bit late to begin those processes); and it is not even clear how she understands the concept of virtue, since on most understandings ‘friendship’, for instance, while a great good of human life, is not a virtue, but may be a relationship where virtues are learned and/or practised.
Nonetheless, these are weaknesses which I hope Ridenour will be able to address in her next offerings, because the only drawback I could see arising out of the genre of the doctoral thesis is that the reader hears too little of Ridenour’s voice. When this does come through, it promises not only good scholarship, but the virtues of wisdom and generosity. For that reason, I will finish by letting her speak for herself: Considering the aging experience as one of virtue and vocation directed at Sabbath rest in the context of community offers meaning for this often perplexing and ambiguous stage of life. Reflecting on the possible meaning and content of this life stage holds significance not only for theological communities but also holds possibilities for the broader society, particularly medicine in its acceptance of finitude and limits within its practice (pp. 239–40).
In conclusion, she writes of ageing persons being like Anna and Simeon in St Luke’s gospel as they await and bear witness to union with Christ through death and the hope of resurrection . . . Like Simeon, the aged among our communities become signs and witnesses of the eternal rest we anticipate through contemplation while embodying virtuous acts of humility, gratitude, generosity, wisdom, fortitude, and hope during our travel here as pilgrims. Their vocation is integral to the Christian community as witnesses to the eschatological hope of Sabbath rest for full union with God in eternity while remaining faithful through participation in Christ through time (p. 243).