Waiting for the Last Bus: Reflections on Life and Death

Waiting is a brief, erudite book filled with poetic quotations, and it reads like a rambling valedictory. It has tones of human optimism as well as pessimism in the loss of loved ones and the doubt of existence after death. Holloway recalls many experiences of ministering to the bereaved and the dying, ranging from the uplifting to the tragic, but all genuine and thought-provoking. Holloway quotes from scripture, not to make a point about faith, but to strengthen an assertion about human nature. The spectrum of issues which Holloway addresses is virtually all-inclusive: the history of attitudes toward death, heaven and hell, aging, the fight for survival, the imperative of death, religion as the human response to existence, predestination, forgiveness, near-death experiences, reincarnation, Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam, cryo-preservation, memory and remembrance, the death of a child, the meaning of the universe, obituaries, and grief.

For me, one observation I could take away is Holloway’s assertion that people can be divided into four categories by religious or agnostic vs fearful or acceptance of death. I put myself in the religious and accepting category (though with a twinge of concern).

And I would have liked to hear more from Holloway about his personal beliefs and why they are what they are. My curiosity is precipitated by his renunciation of formal religion. OK, thanks for the in-depth discussion of the issues, now, tell us, wise old man, ex-clergyman, and thoughtful writer and philosopher, what is your opinion?

I have no hesitation in recommending this book. It is thought-provoking, well-written, balanced in its message and not too long.

The title of this book appealed to me and I wanted to like it. I enjoyed Leaving Alexandria and I do admire and respect Richard Holloway; he's certainly deserving of all the accolades, so I was disappointed to find his reflections on death and dying less than comforting or uplifting for me, an aging baby boomer. I do credit Holloway for giving me a greater appreciation of my own insights and spiritual beliefs. I'm thankful that I don't have a mindset like his on this particular subject.
I had several points of contention, as when Holloway says, "We die. Then what? What happens next? Very different answers have been given this question. I'll begin with the most complicated which comes from India and is the oldest of organized religions, Hinduism. When the thinkers of India looked at the dead, and wondered where they had gone, this is the idea they came up with..." An abbreviated and imprecise description of reincarnation, karma and nirvana follows and he concludes with, "How to escape from the wheel of existence and be blown into nothingness was the ultimate purpose of the Hindus." The Vedas and Upanishads, and all those other sacred texts and wisdom traditions are given short shrift; I took offense with his making light of what I find profound and meaningful. He goes on to say that the other two big religions, Christianity and Islam are equally depressing because with them your only options are heaven or hell. I think, except for fundamentalists, most people of faith traditions (and those more likely to be reading this book) have progressed beyond the old fire & brimstone mentality.
He continues with "If what awaits us after death is not samsara and its endless wondering through other lives; if it's not hell and its endless torment, if it is not even heaven and its endless joy; if it is no-thing, no-where, no-anything, why fear it? Wistfulness at missing the future, particularly the future of those we love, of course. But fear--of nothing?" Oh, come now.... few of us are okay with ceasing to exist. Earnest Becker in his book The Denial of Death, says "The idea of death, the fear of it, haunts the human animal like nothing else."

Holloway talks about the brain and its workings but not so much about the mind/consciousness. He leans in uncomfortably close to sceptics who reject anything that can't be scientifically explained to their satisfaction. There is a preponderance of anecdotal evidence that we continue to exist, yet they dismiss such evidence outright, discounting physicists, neuroscientists and other distinguished academics who affirm the synthesis of science and spirituality. Famed theoretical physicist Max Planck said "All matter originates and exists only by virtue of a force...We must assume behind this force the existence of a conscious and intelligent mind. This mind is the matrix of all matter."

In concluding this longer-than-intended review I would add that I await that last bus with those like Father Zosima, the character in Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov who says:
" It is the great mystery of human life that old grief passes gradually into quiet, tender joy. The mild serenity of age takes the place of the riotous blood of youth. I bless the rising sun each day, and, as before, my heart sings to meet it, but now I love even more its setting, its long slanting rays and the soft, tender, gentle memories that come with them, the dear images from the whole of my long, happy life--and over all the Divine Truth, softening, reconciling, forgiving!
My life is ending, I know that well, but every day that is left to me I feel how my earthly life is in touch with a new infinite, unknown, but approaching life, the nearness of which sets my soul quivering with rapture, my mind glowing and my heart weeping with joy."

This is the work of a kind, sensitive and erudite man. Do not let the fact that he was the Archbishop of the Anglican Church in Scotland put you off. This is a human being of capacity, somehow surviving the perversions of power. That is what is required for this topic. He is talking about death. Yours and mine and his!

He brings to bear on the topic not only his intelligence but the thoughts of dozens of writers and speakers that he has read and assimilated over the nine plus decades of his life.

He is a deeply religious man who has little respect for the boundaries expected in a religious man. (How often it is that the deeply religious have the least respect for the boundaries. Take Jesus for example.) One factual story he tells will suffice I think:

He was present for this, but not the central figure. The central figures were a priest and a four year old girl the priest was ministering to. She was dying and everyone knew it, including her. She asked him if when she died she would be able to see her brother and sister again and he assured her that she would, that she would play with them, and that God had a home created for her and her family, that they would all live in together in total happiness, forever.

She died peacefully.

One of her aunts challenged the priest saying, “I know what you believe! I have heard you. You think, as I do, that death is final. Why did you not tell her the truth?

He replied, “There was no room for the truth in there.”

I read that while at a conference at which I was in a group of ten practicing Quaker silent worship for five days, two and a half hours at a time in the morning and then a half hour of chat. I dropped it on them and we soaked in it for a good amount of time.

You might like him. You might want to soak in him for a good amount of time.

This is the work of a kind, sensitive and erudite man. Do not let the fact that he was the Archbishop of the Anglican Church in Scotland put you off. This is a human being of capacity, somehow surviving the perversions of power. That is what is required for this topic. He is talking about death. Yours and mine and his!

He brings to bear on the topic not only his intelligence but the thoughts of dozens of writers and speakers that he has read and assimilated over the nine plus decades of his life.

He is a deeply religious man who has little respect for the boundaries expected in a religious man. (How often it is that the deeply religious have the least respect for the boundaries. Take Jesus for example.) One factual story he tells will suffice I think:

He was present for this, but not the central figure. The central figures were a priest and a four year old girl the priest was ministering to. She was dying and everyone knew it, including her. She asked him if when she died she would be able to see her brother and sister again and he assured her that she would, that she would play with them, and that God had a home created for her and her family, that they would all live in together in total happiness, forever.

She died peacefully.

One of her aunts challenged the priest saying, “I know what you believe! I have heard you. You think, as I do, that death is final. Why did you not tell her the truth?

He replied, “There was no room for the truth in there.”

I read that while at a conference at which I was in a group of ten practicing Quaker silent worship for five days, two and a half hours at a time in the morning and then a half hour of chat. I dropped it on them and we soaked in it for a good amount of time.

You might like him. You might want to soak in him for a good amount of time.