I recently changed vehicles, saying goodbye to my large and thirsty SUV in favor of avery efficient car: a plug-in hybrid sedan. My decision to make the switch was reallydriven (pun not intended but noted) by two things. First, my growing unease with drivinga vehicle that consumed so much fuel despite typically carrying one passenger, and thegrowing cost of ownership – fuel and upcoming repairs. I loved my SUV, and I hadnearly 200,000 miles on it – just a fraction of what is possible with that particular V-8motor. At sixteen and half years old, the motor’s longevity was not my only concern,however. While the motor might make it a half a million miles, various parts and someimportant systems would need replaced simply because of age.I belonged to a few Facebook groups for owners of that particular SUV, so I knew whatrepairs were coming. The timing belt and water pump were due for scheduledreplacement. The valve cover gaskets and the rear main seal were beginning to weep.The front CV axles needed replaced. I am pretty sure I didn’t have long on my brakecalipers, especially the rears, as I cooked them a bit a few years ago dragging thebrakes when towing it down the mountain into Yosemite. A little incident after a long triplast Christmas reminded me they needed attention before too long. And those were justthe things I knew I needed to be addressing relatively soon. All of it was within myscope of ability, yet was still going to be expensive, and would have exceeded thevehicles value. And truthfully, as much as I like working on my own cars, all those jobswould certainly have induced headaches, too.When I sat down to calculate the “cost to own” for that truck and the car I ended upchoosing, it became an easy choice. Yes, the newer vehicle will cost more over the nextfour years, but most of its cost is absorbed by the high fuel and repair expenditures, andthe equity at the end of the period is radically different, too. In addition to the financialrealities, using 90% less fuel and what should be relatively headache-free ownershipsealed the deal. So far, I have been affirmed in my choice. I don’t really miss the largervehicle, and it’s been really nice to realize 120 mpg in the first 1500 miles of driving. Ionly wish all such decisions were so easily arrived at.In a recent Hospice meeting I was reminded what a difficult choice it can be to decidewhen to enter into end of life care. Our bodies age, just like cars, and as we age, wepick up diagnoses because some of our systems don’t work the way they once did.Sometimes we have parts that go bad. And even if we’re relatively healthy, there aresome terrible illnesses that upend everything we had expected, which suddenly bringour mortality into focus and make it appear a lot closer than it did for most of our lives.We all know that at some point we will breathe our last. Despite our faith in what comesnext, however, it’s still a sobering and challenging reality to confront.When we are facing our mortality in very specific ways, maybe because a doctor hastold us how serious things are, there are usually some choices. It may be a choicebetween treatments, or it could be a choice between treatment or not. While the world ofmedicine has bell curves, it does not have crystal balls. Sometimes, doctors are reticentto suggest a timeframe for a prognosis as a result. Veterinarians seem to be less so, aswe’ve had vets tell us it was time for both of our first two dogs. But with humans, thoseclear messages seem to be rarer. I know why; it’s not easy to tell someone that it’s timeto truly and finally embrace their death. We spend our lives taking medicine andreceiving treatment so that we can be healthy and extend our lives, so it’s literally acomplete turn-around entertain a different way of thinking. Many doctors struggle withthat moment. Their training is to extend life, in the most basic sense.We rarely have clear analytics when we face such choices. It’s not as easy as it is with acar, where we can calculate the various costs and determine if the value is there tomake the repairs. Our lives are priceless, so cost isn’t typically the question. In suchtimes we are dealing with realities beyond the measures of this world. These momentsare spiritual moments more than practical ones. The measuring of days, weeks, andmonths is very different than anything else we might try to measure. Because our livesare so full of love, we’re not exactly eager to waste any moment of them.The question should shift to quality at some point, though. Modern medicine can extendlife in incredible ways – sometimes to the extent that it is literally labeled miraculous.Ask a person whose had a quadruple bypass, for example. Or someone who has hadthe risky surgery and the chemo that followed it and has celebrated being out on thesliding side of the bell curve. Nonetheless, there comes a time when there really aren’tgood options for extending life with any quality. In those cases, we must choosewhether we undergo procedures and treatment at all costs, physical, emotional, andspiritual included, to carve out what may represent a comparatively small gain inlifespan. Or do we focus on making the most of the time we have left with as littlediscomfort as possible?

I haven’t had to make that kind of decision for myself or someone I love, but I have beenwith countless families who have faced such choices. In most cases, I would say we’remeasuring in weeks before the typical decision is finally made. Granted, there are caseswhere there are only weeks from diagnosis to mortality, but those instances areblessedly rare. Instead, it’s typically our best intentions to treat whatever the presentingproblem is, if for no other reason than to see where things stand afterwards, in thehopes that another outcome will come to fruition. Eventually, however, we all get there.When we do, I’m glad we have options like hospice care to being comfort to patientsand families who face those final chapters. I’m also aware that no one has ever told methat they wished they had waited to enter hospice care. By contrast, I’ve heard theopposite more times than I can count.I don’t want anyone to give up or give in or choose not to fight when they face a healthcrisis. Not at all. I also grieve to watch the struggle and the pain that can come withnever-ending treatments and toll they can take on a person and their loved ones. Onsome level, our faith is informative in these moments, if we are attuned to what it canoffer. We proclaim first and foremost the life that we find in the resurrection of Jesus.Knowing that we have an eternal life doesn’t make us automatically ready to leave thisworld, any more than that knowledge takes away the grief when we lose a loved one.They may be enjoying the fruits of their faith, but we miss them terribly. As it should be.The recent story of Lazarus in the lectionary reminds us that even Jesus, who had andused the power to break the bonds of death for his friend, experienced grief at the lossof a loved one.Our faith doesn’t make hard choices easy, but it can make them a little easier,remembering that God wants life and health and goodness for us. It is also worthremembering the words that will be said at our funeral as we ponder our last days: “youwere formed of the earth, and to earth you will return.” We will all die, as it has beendesigned. Understanding that, and the promise of life on the other side of our death canreshape our lives, not only as we consider the final moments, but every day that we getto spend in this world. We don’t have to fear death because we’re already dead…andyet we live.I wish it were as simple as using the metaphor of the new car to suggest that we shouldlet go of these mortal bodies with ease because there’s something new and shinywaiting for us. That’s true, in the broadest sense, but it’s not at all the same, either. Ormaybe it’s closer to the reality than we can imagine? Who knows. All I want to say todaythrough all of this pondering is that when we face these moments we must strive to bebrave, be grateful, and be faithful, and trust that there is no right answer. Whatever wechoose, we God goes with us, and that’s a gift without measure.Tom+Direct us, O Lord, in all our doings with thy most graciousfavor, and further us with thy continual help; that in all ourworks begun, continued, and ended in thee, we may glorifythy holy Name, and finally, by thy mercy, obtain everlastinglife; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.