A new paper in the journal Emergency Nurse discusses how ER nurses are particularly prone to experience “thanatophobia” — which author Mike Brady describes as “a state in which people experience negative emotional reactions in recognition of their own mortality.”
Healthline puts it more bluntly: “a fear of death or the dying process.”
Mental health professionals divide phobias into “specific phobias,” “social phobias,” and “agoraphobia,” and thanatophobia is a “specific phobia.”
The Cleveland Clinic compares it to claustrophobia (which Christians would never condemn) or aerophobia (fear of flying, which is often based on a fear of heights — which Christians would never condemn).
According to Healthline, some physical symptoms are: Panic attacks, nausea, stomach pain, heart palpitations.
Some emotional symptoms: agitation, sadness, persistent worry, and even avoidance of friends and family.
Additionally, you might develop health anxiety, where you research any possible disease you might have that could lead to death.
And, as in any avenue of mental health, eventually, it can be so paralyzing that it becomes disabling.
There are a number of risk factors, including being diagnosed with other phobias, witnessing close family members who have either recently died or have a terminal illness, other traumatic life events, physical illness, and according to the National Institute of Mental Health, even being particularly shy as a child.
Further, if you’re a healthcare worker (the paper I mentioned is specifically about emergency room nurses), you’re at particular risk.
Death anxiety is also linked with numerous mental disorders, including anxiety, depressive and panic disorders and is associated with more severe symptoms in each of those conditions.
That’s an enormously important point (more on that later).
Interestingly, studies show that younger people are more afraid of death, but older people are more afraid of the dying process.
Now, there are quite a few things to say about this.
First, the American Psychiatric Association doesn’t recognize it as a disorder, but it’s widely accepted to be associated with Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD).
So if you go to the doctor and talk about your persistent, distressing fear of death, the dying process, or your fear over your loved ones’ passing — Healthline notes that your doctor is more likely to view your thanatophobia as part of an anxiety disorder.
This has important implications for treatment, because if it’s a manifestation of GAD, it’s treated in similar fashion.
Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, Talk Therapy, Relaxation Techniques, and/or medication are just some of the means.
And it has important implications for how Christians address it, as well.
As a symptom of a disease, we should never impute spiritual deficiencies or faulty faith to its development or manifestation.
We don’t do that for people with cancer, and we should never do the same for someone with a phobia.
And yet, this is one particular phobia that Christians swarm over like a pack of hungry wolves.
I’ve frequently discussed how Christians frequently shame and stigmatize health anxiety.
The “Who Cares?” Christians claim we’re not supposed to care about our health because our time on earth is so short, Christ conquered death, we know we’re going to have resurrected bodies etc.,
And yet.
We can still find ourselves fixated on our health, on the notion of dying, on the fear of our loved ones dying.
We wonder how our fears over our health, the process of dying, and death itself can be compatible with the message we’re constantly bombarded with at church — which is: your body is just a broken vessel and life is all about your soul, and if God’s got that taken care of, what’s the big deal about losing your health, or dying?
Again, you will find a lot of “Who Cares?” Christians roaming about at church, and even preaching from the pulpit.
Consequently, if you go and talk about your phobia over death, you’ll probably get a sermon that boils down to this implicit message: “Your faith is deficient, your fears are a sin, and get over it.”
Well, a few things.
Why do Christians accept some phobias and not others?
Why does the church say, “It’s okay to have claustrophobia and not thanatophobia?”
Both are phobias, both provoke similar feelings of anxiety, dread, and distress.
But one is treated as a spiritual condition, the other isn’t.
If you told someone at church you were getting an MRI and said, “I have claustrophobia and just hate that feeling of being constricted in a tight place. I panic, I sweat, I get palpitations etc”, you’d never be spiritually shamed.
And yet — if you said the same thing about death, that’s when the Shame Brigade would swoop in.
But there’s absolutely nothing in Christianity that suggests fears over our health and death should be shamed.
In fact, God knows what a big deal sickness and death are.
When Jesus came to earth, he seemed to spend the bulk of his time doing what?
Healing people.
He didn’t meet up with lepers, the blind, the crippled, and say, “Hey guys, I know things suck for you right now, but just forget about how sick you are. I’ve got some Good News for you to focus on, instead. Here’s some literature. Bye-bye now!”
No, when John wondered whether Jesus was really the Messiah, Christ pointed primarily to what?
The fact he was healing the suffering.
“Sure, sure,” the “Who Cares?” Christians might glumly acknowledge, “But that’s no excuse for emotional suffering. Christians have the good theology to put that to bed.”
Yeah, we have good theology but we might not have a good gut, which plays an incredibly important role in our emotional health.
So, as this blog and medical research has proven, the line between physical and emotional suffering is blurred to an almost inconsequential point.
Depression, anxiety, any mood disorder are diseases.
And we know that Christ never shamed people for their diseases.
Instead, he was “filled with compassion” innumerable times, and there’s a reason why he was called “The Great Physician” and it didn’t just have to do with spiritual healing.
Historically, Christians have understood this.
That’s why Christians have always been deeply involved in the medical field, in ministries for those with diseases.
It sucks to be sick.
It really does.
I broke three bones in my foot a few years ago. It hurt just as terribly for me as an athiest.
Physical suffering just sucks.
My hunch is that the Christians who preach the “who cares” message are pretty healthy or have never been around someone chronically sick, or in an environment where they see constant physical suffering.
There’s another important point.
The “Who Cares?” Christians often cherry pick verses to build a theology.
They constantly cite Jesus’ famous words to not “not let your heart be troubled,” but ignore that Jesus’ own heart was frequently “greatly troubled,” and yes, about his own suffering.
The “Who Cares?” Christians will cite Paul’s exaltation “Death, where is your sting?” while ignoring that Jesus wept when Lazarus experienced that sting.
The “Who Cares?” Christians will lean on Paul’s observation that “to live is Christ, to die is gain,” while ignoring the fact that, when ill, one of God’s most faithful servants — Hezekiah — “cried with a bitter cry” for God to extend his life.
God answered, “I have heard your prayer. I have seen your tears. See, I will all add fifteen years to your life.”
The Bible, thankfully, is infinitely more reflective of the human experience than what’s preached at church, which often looks more like a propaganda film than the real story of our lives.
And of course that’s what most churches have become.
They want to sell Sunday Morning as the solution to every problem because you’re more likely to come back on Sunday Morning.
Just like any organization, it’s a battle for existential survival.
That’s not to impute bad motives to every church, it’s just to say, “Be wary of churches that won’t talk about the tougher stuff, be wary of churches that shame, that sell Christ as the solution to your physical problems, your mood disorders, your financial problems.”
The Prosperity Gospel is everywhere — even in churches that condemn the Prosperity Gospel.
Because any church that shames people who are afflicted with thanatophobia or any other fear are essentially preaching a form of the Prosperity Gospel.
“Come to Jesus and he’ll heal all your diseases, including depression, anxiety, and any phobia you might have.”
That is a form of the Prosperity Gospel.
Death is tragic. God never intended it.
The process of dying is tragic. God never dismisses that.
The pain of seeing a loved one die is almost insurmountable. Jesus wept when he saw it.
All of this pain is sacred, and to diminish it, to shame it — that is defiling the sacred.
Jesus understands your fears, he doesn’t condemn you for them — instead, he will hold your hand through them, even if you can’t feel it, and he will never judge you because he begged his own Father to, if possible, take away his upcoming cup of suffering.
If Jesus dreaded physical and emotional suffering, it’s quite okay for you, too.
Don’t let the “Who Cares” Christians get to you. Jesus is on your side. He knows how hard it is.
And in the mean time, if you struggle with thanatophobia, I’d urge you to look for professional help.
So…
Find a psychiatrist here.
Find a therapist here.
And I like the Cleveland Clinic’s brief overview here.
[Painting: Hopper, Automat]
