Honor Thy Mother and Father

When I came home from a church gathering the other night, I asked my parents how they wanted to die. My father said, “Christ died on the Cross. I think it is okay for us to suffer too. Just give me the exact amount of whatever the doctors prescribe at the precise times, and let me go.” To which my mother responded, “But that is not for me. Jesus suffered so that I would not have to. I don’t care what the doctors say; what is important for me is that I die in peace.”

Now imagine a miserable day comes when my father is dying of skin cancer. In terrible pain he begs me for more medicine to relieve his suffering. He could live like this for another week or two. I say, “Dad, I’m sorry, I can’t.” He asks again and again, and every time I have only the same answer to give him. He dies two weeks later. I, however, am left to live with the guilt of not having eased my father’s pain, of ignoring his cries for mercy and his last earthly wish.

Now imagine that it is my mother who is dying of cancer, but this time it is lung cancer; she is unable to speak. She might have a few weeks to live, but the pain is becoming terrible. Instead of one pill every four hours, I begin giving her one and a half. A few days later I begin giving her two pills every four hours. She dies a week later. I, however, am left to live with the guilt that I might have killed my own mother.

Would either one of my differing actions above determine whether or not I was a good son or a good person? Our speaker the other night thinks he knows and he wants to help. In fact, he is so sure of himself that he would tell us, as if we were children taking candy on Halloween, not to seek understanding but simply to obey. Should we obey our speaker? Some, like my father, might say, “Yes,” and some, like my mother, might say “No.”

I say that, with God’s help, we should seek understanding, and not fear the judgment of anyone but the Lord.