The Slavery of Death: Part 24, Timor Mortis and "the Glory of Those Who Are Reborn"

As we near the end of this series it's time to clean up some lingering questions.

As you know, this entire series has been a prolonged meditation upon Hebrew 2.14-15:

Hebrews 2.14-15
Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might break the power of him who holds the power of death—that is, the devil—and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death.
By this point in the series we've unpacked how our lives can become "enslaved to the fear of death" and how that slavery makes us participate in "the works of the devil." We have also briefly sketched how Christ sets us free from this dynamic (Christus Victor), something I'll try to describe in a bit more detail in a final summary post. In the last post I described the beginning of this process as adopting a martyrological identity--learning to die so that we might live, losing our life so that we might find it.

In light of the word "martyr" it's time to clarify some things regarding our fear of death and address a couple of the questions you've been asking me from the very beginning of this series. Specifically, is the fear of death to be totally conquered? Are Christians to be fearless in the face of death? And if so, what prevents us from throwing our lives away?

I'd like to approach these questions by talking about the development of timor mortis in the thought of Augustine.

First, a hat tip to Charlie Collier over at Wipf & Stock. As Unclean was wrapping up Charlie and I exchanged some emails about future books I might do. I mentioned I had been thinking about a book fusing the work of Ernest Becker with theologians like William Stringfellow. In light of that, Charlie mentioned I look into Augustine's treatment of timor mortis.

Timor mortis is Latin for the "fear of death" (timor being the root of words like timorous and mortis the root for words like mortality).

Timor mortis has an interesting history in the thought of Augustine and tracing the development of his thought on this subject helps us address some of the lingering questions in this series. Like we have been doing, Augustine was trying to address these sorts of questions in relation to timor mortis: Does the faithful Christian fear death? Is the fear of death a sign of spiritual cowardice and a lack of faith?

Early in this writing Augustine seems to suggest that Christians should not fear death. To fear death would be a sign that the Christian did not trust in God and the resurrection. Here Augustine seems to have been greatly influenced by the heroic feats of both pagan and Christian martyrs, individuals who showed no fear in facing death. For Augustine this appears to have been the ideal the Christian should aspire to. More, Augustine was also influenced by the Stoics who argued that the truly wise and virtuous would be calm and fearless in the face of death. Exemplars here are Socrates and Seneca.

This heroic ideal, one based upon the examples of the Christian martyrs, seems an almost impossible standard. Normal people fear death. Does this mean that we lack faith?

Over time Augustine began to change his stance on this issue. It seems that Augustine's early treatments of timor mortis were overly influenced by his desire to place the courage of Christian martyrs in the same heroic pantheon with the pagan philosophers, warriors, and martyrs. Augustine wanted the Christian heroes to be as courageous as the pagan heroes. In this, Augustine was writing more apologetically than pastorally. Later, as his interests in timor mortis became more pastoral Augustine began to back away from the heroic ideal of the Christian martyr scorning death.

According to scholars this change in Augustine's views regarding timor mortis started during the Pelagian controversies. Why that controversy sparked this change need not concern us. But the result was that Augustine began to take a more realistic stance about the experience of timor mortis in the Christian experience. Crucially, Augustine no longer considered timor mortis to be a spiritual or moral failure. Augustine comes to argue that the fear of death is a natural and regular feature of being human. Consequently, the goal of the Christian life is not in the eradication of timor mortis but in how we wrestle with it day after day. The virtue here is less about scorning death than about daily fortitude and perseverance. Here is Carole Straw summarizing this development in Augustine:
Before Augustine, conquest of the fear of death was held to test the faith of Christians in the immortality of the soul and the resurrection; it proved confidence in the reward awaiting a life of virtue. Fear of death revealed doubt, guilt, and a misguided attachment to the body. Augustine began his career within this tradition, but the controversies he faced led him to change his views...Augustine will come to reject the triumphalism of earlier tradition. He will accept fear of death as a part of the human condition. Fear of death is a natural response that does not indicate want of faith; rather, it affirms the value of bodily existence realized finally in the resurrection. Prudence also dictates that one fear death to check sinfulness.
Various arguments seem to have moved Augustine in this direction. First, Augustine came to realize that a complete absence of timor mortis would cause Christians to become indifferent to things like suicide. More, an absence of timor mortis would cause Christians to use suicide as a sign of faith. That is, if timor mortis is a lack of faith in the resurrection wouldn't suicide become the ultimate expression of faith? Augustine senses this line of argument and he works in The City of God to push back. He mentions the student of Plato who, upon reading about the immortality of the soul, got up and jumped off a building to his death. Isn't that faith? And is that the sort of faith and fearlessness we should see in the Christian? Augustine realizes that a line of reasoning, similar to the one followed by the student of Plato, could be worked out from within the Christian tradition. Specifically, why struggle with the Christian life when we could simply commit suicide after being baptized? Wouldn't that be the easiest and safest way to guarantee our salvation? Augustine floating that argument:
[W]hy do we spend time on those exhortations to the newly baptized. We do our best to kindle their resolve to preserve their virginal purity, or to remain continent in widowhood, or to remain faithful to their marriage vows. But there is available an excellent short cut which avoids any danger of sinning; if we can persuade them to rush to a self-inflicted death immediately upon receiving remission of sins, we shall send them to the Lord in the purest and soundest condition!
To this Augustine responds that "if anyone thinks that we should go in for persuasion on these lines, I should not call him silly, but quite crazy." He concludes that "suicide is monstrous."

But why? For Augustine faith isn't really faith until it has wrestled with the fear of death across the lifespan. That is, a lack of concern about death isn't a sign of faith. Rather, faith is manifested in the daily wrestling with death. This is what perfects faith over time in the saints. Augustine writes, "[T]he faithful overcoming the fear of death is a part of the struggle of faith itself." More, the fear of death is simply an acknowledgement of the gift and goodness of life itself. To be indifferent to your life is to spurn the gift of God. Timor mortis, wanting to preserve your own life, is, at root, an act of gratitude.

What this means, then, is that timor mortis is a fact of life and a regular feature of the Christian experience. The fear of death is always with us, moment by moment and day by day. A lack of timor mortis would signal an indifference that could be, by turns, pathological, triumphalistic, or a spurning of the gift of life. Thus, a victory over the fear of death is not experienced as fearlessness, the complete absence of timor morits. Rather, the victory over the fear of death is witnessed in daily perseverance.

The key, in light of Hebrews 2, has less to do with the fear of death than with a slavery to the fear of death. The fear cannot be healthily avoided. But overcoming a slavery to the fear can be, must be, pursued day in and day out.

As Augustine says, our faith doesn't mean "that death had turned into a good thing." No, he contends, "the death of the body...is not good for anyone." So the goal of the Christian life is not to seek out death or to treat life cheaply. Death is evil. Consequently, we are to struggle against death, resisting death in all its manifestations. This struggle, according to Augustine, "increases the merit of patience if it is endured with devout faith."

For Augustine timor mortis no longer signals the failure of faith but rather works to produce "the glory of those who are reborn."

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27 thoughts on “The Slavery of Death: Part 24, Timor Mortis and "the Glory of Those Who Are Reborn"”

  1. Very rich material. I've always been confused by those who go so far from fearing death that they seem to celebrate it. At all times, death is a terrible thing. We should find comfort in Heaven and courage in the face of adversity, but we most always acknowledge the tragedy of death.

  2. The quote at the top of your blog (Heschel) goes well with the conclusions to which Augustine finally arrived.

    We are programmed to ignore our own demise almost from birth.  As the 2012 tornado season starts with horrible destruction and death (I am thinking of the entire family, including the young girl in the field, who all died the other day), it reminds us that the fear of death is relative to our perceived proximity to it.  "There are no atheists in a foxhole".  Whenever the warnings go out, people who live in Tornado Alley focus on staying alive -- immediately.

  3. I tend to think that those who are celebrating death are just more afraid of life. I have a brother who, over the last 30 years, has pulled a lot of suicide stunts. It's not that they really aren't afraid of death, they're just more afraid of life. It takes a lot of faith to live and face the uncertainties and responsibilities each day brings.

  4. I see Nihilism and God (big G notion) as both having an equal effect when it comes to investing one's self in living the human life here and now; both can serve as a way out of the work of human becoming. 

  5. I so agree with the last part of your post where you distinguish between christian freedom from slavery to the fear of death and the reckless disregard for their own and others' safety which misguided martyrs sometimes demonstrate.

  6. Richard, thanks for this series. I just wrote an essay about human evil that draws on the primacy of death in the biblical narrative. 

    http://micahredding.com/blog/2012/03/06/why-are-humans-evil

    I think the problem introduced with Genesis is not death, per se, but the awareness of mortality. Humanity had reached a new stage of development, a stage that provoked a new crisis, never before seen in nature. The work of Jesus is then to help resolve that crisis, and pave the way for further development. Jesus does that, not by removing death from human experience, but by showing on the one hand that 1) compassion is stronger than violence, and that 2) God preserves human beings through death.

    The effect then is not even to remove the fear of dying, but to break the "sting" of this fear - the painful dynamic of violence-worship that arises from our fear.

  7. Richard; this has been a great series that has shed much light on this subject. I agree almost 100% with everything; the only thing that bothers me a bit is the martyrological identity. Not that I think that identity is the wrong one, but rather the suggested approach to it, perhaps. You seem to be suggesting that we need to learn to die, but I think that this is slightly incorrect. I don't think we need to learn to die, but rather learn to recognize that we are already dead, and live into that. We need to accept that "we" are already dead and that the only life that we posess is the life of Christ in us that we "put on" in place of our old life which has been crucified with Christ...

  8. In a sense, the phrase "fear of death" seems antiquated for our time and culture.  I think a more relevant term would be fear of the unkown.  Whether it is physical death or next months rent, if we are in a position where we can't control the situation (or at least know its outcome) this can be a fearful thing.  Some personality types don't struggle a whole lot with the unkown, in fact, they embrace it as an adventure.  Others crumble at the mere thought.  But I don't think the issue is so much about death as it is the prospect of not knowing.  In this sense, perhaps death would be the ultimate unknowing in that not only do you not know but neither does anyone else.  Age, wisdom, experience; none of this can help. 

  9. Thanks Richard,

    I think this is an excellent distinction. It fits wholly with Jesus' own experience of death. He has to confront his fear, not avoid it. Gethsemane and his crying out to God on the cross suggest he does not go to his death lightly or without fear. Rather, he goes to his death in spite of his fears. His faith is vindicated by his resistence of the slavery of fear of death, but death is not cheapened. He still suffers a putrifying death, and is taken to his tomb having confronted the full reality of death squarely and once and for all.

    For me, I probably tend towards the unhealthy lack of fear, arising out of my Christus Victor theology. So I am challeged to reassess my position.

  10. > Death is evil.

    I think this assertion deserves more support, at least if you're going to put a lot of weight on Christus Victor. This is a big disagreement among and between religious systems. It's not sufficient to make the bald claim that death, in and of itself, is evil. That's simply not obvious.

  11. That's true. The background assumption is that death is evil within the Christian worldview, particularly within a Christus Victor paradigm. But all of that could be called into question from a perspective outside that worldview/paradigm.

  12. Thinking some more. A religious claim that death is "evil" might be hard to prove. Something more empirically and publicly accessible might be death as a source of suffering, perhaps the ultimate source of suffering.

  13. So, the initial fear of death gives rise to hero systems and powers that humans create to avoid death, but also to avoid the meaninglessness of life that ends with death. But some hero systems demand martyrdom and still attract people, so maybe the fear of meaninglessness is really a greater power than the fear of the death of the body. However, as you mentioned earlier, death is still calling the shots, and meaninglessness cannot be avoided, your descendants will eventually forget that you even existed. And the institutions of mortality, the powers, we find to be creatures as well, existing in competition to keep sinful humanity from immortal power, binding the creation to futility. But even the best of these, the Law, could not impart life.The letter kills, but the Spirit gives life by taking the fulfillment of the Law, which is love, and inscribing it on human hearts. Martyrdom here, then, is not an act of heroism, but the acceptance of a life that transcends the death of the body and the human struggle for meaning in the face of mortality. It's a life that has come from the "other side" to raise Jesus and spell the beginning of the end of all powers, both from Heaven (the Law, the temple) and from earth (kingdoms, institutions, the family unit, etc.) It is the making of a new family from all humanity, and creation. This love by the Spirit makes our mission one of reconciliation to this family making end, our meaning and identity coming from the other side. Am I getting close?

  14. I'd say so. :-)

    Regarding martyrdom and heroism. In the City of God Augustine talks about how the Roman martyrs were really striving for glory and renown. So there is a sense in which martyrdom is just another self-esteem project.

    Perhaps notion of martyrdom is too laden with other associations to do good work in this series. But I'm trying to use it to guesture at the Christian call to "die," to "take up the cross." And to clarify I'm using the word "martyrological" as an adjective for identity, a martyrological identity. I'm not calling for real martyrs. I'm talking about an identity that dies, not a physical life.

  15. Sara, wow.

    The way you write this looks something like an itinerary; but only on its surface. You didn't write an itinerary though, you drew a map of sorts: it doesn't lead to a destination, it leads to openings. You've layed out landmarks that mark those openings we typically miss and avoid. 

  16. How can death be evil ? Your God enjoyed killing off numerous people -see genesis deuteronomy , exodus etc. Death is god's tool to eliminate people who supposedly had the free will to disbelieve him . Your will is not free.

    Wait , maybe the old testament god is different in the new testament. Jesus promoted peace , right ? If he was the incarnated god, then he is the same ruthless , jealous god of the old testament. In addition , Jesus made it clear that unbelievers will suffer eternal torment. Or will they parish ? Either way, he will end your life as you know it - and some think torture you , if your name is not written in the lambs book.

    Your god delights in death which creates a subtle, nervous tension within you causing you to fear god ,not death, which perpetuates religious obedience. Choose to wake up dear readers! True peace awaits those who are freed from the god delusion.

    (Sidenote, I am not bitter or critical of you Richard. I truly enjoy this series and respect the effort you expend and scholarly nature. While I am no longer a Christian, I do wish more Christians had your tolerance, patience and humility.)

  17.  Yes, especially since the original meaning of martyr is "witness". They were killed because of what they testified to, so I guess that is how it got associated with dying for a cause. Though that included both dying to the self and being willing to undergo the death of the body. I think the authenticity of the Christian call to die rests partly on the content of the thing witnessed (Christ), partly on the subjective state of the "heart"(putting on Christ)....and something else. Perhaps the legends/ metaphors surrounding the "stigmata", bearing the marks of crucifixion on the body. It's a call to be stigmatized by existing hero systems.

  18. In my personal experience, this isn't quite accurate. I know a fair few folks who think they know perfectly well what follows death (bodily decomposition, loss of consciousness, nothing else). Some of these folks are pretty afraid of that. They don't want to die, it scares them, and it has nothing to do with the unknown.

  19.  Thanks! I think Dr. Beck's analysis in this incredible series brings some radical light to Paul's whole discourse on the Law in Romans so I was trying to tease that out a little.

  20. This is roughly what I was thinking while reading your post. Death and the idea of being dead doesn't frighten me at all, but the idea of physical suffering does. I also wonder to what extent Jesus was afraid of his death (on the mount of olives) and to what extent he was afraid of the pain that would precede it.

  21. Please forgive the intrusion, but as I read yesterday and reflected on this post from my own experiences, it seems to me that one thing hasn't been talked about.  From a very high-level spirituality, willingness to lay down one's life for a cause, all sounds very heroic.  Taking one's own life (or subjecting oneself to undue risks toward that end) to prove a fearlessness of bodily death, all sounds very stoic.  However, from my own personal experience with suicidal thoughts, in the depths of depression after my son's death, it was not a desire to die but a lack of will to live -- an ambivalence, if you will -- that was really tempting to me.  Furthermore, aside from the grace of God which I'm sure was being activated in my thoughts and emotions (probably because of that grace enacted), the single idea that stopped me was remembering the unconditional love of my grandparents and imagining how they would suffer if I took my own life.  I was able to care about hurting them, because they had first loved me so well.  I think this is why we need to love each other, ON EARTH (as it is in heaven), because at the end of the day, we can't see God (Spirit), and we know of Jesus through stories -- stories that we believe to be true and right, but we were not eyewitnesses and have not met him face to face...yet.  We come to know God, as He revealed Himself in Jesus, to be the essence of love, compassion, mercy, and grace, through others who love us as Christ-ones.  We need at least one person like that in our lives, I'm convinced, in order to find our way, have faith in Love as the true witness of God/Christ in this world.  God is *for* us, God is *with* us; God is *within* us.  Pardon the interruption, Sara H...  ~Peace~

  22. I have to really thank you for this series.  It has given me quite a bit to think about, and has actually inspired me along several lines of psych research I would like to do for my Master's thesis.

  23. Yes, exactly; they think they know.  But of course no one knows if we lose consciousness or not.  And also, being in a state of unbeing is an unkown experience--in fact we can't even imagine it :) 

  24. To what degree, do you think, do fundamentalist religious structures encourage and exacerbate the fear of death? Have you covered this already? Does your recent book cover this (still haven't gotten my copy)? Thanks. 

  25. I haven't talked much about this. But I think fundamentalism is driven by a death fetish, striving to secure your status as saved at death over against the damned. That's the motive force behind fundamentalism. Which is why it's so fear-based.

  26.  Thanks. Yeah... as I've spread my relational wings out from my original childhood community, I keep discovering that many of my non-fundamentalist friends do not seem to be clasped by such a gripping fear as I. It's both humbling, and optimism-inducing. "For God did not give us a spirit of fear," and all that jive. Or, as Radiohead would put it, "you do it to yourself. You do. That's what really hurts. You do it to yourself, just you, you and no one else."

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