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A Precious Moment In The End Of Life-Part II - November 2005 |
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Written by Rev. Tatsuo Muneto
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Wednesday, 16 November 2005 |
Editor's Note - This is an excerpt from the November 2005 issue of the Buddhist Wheel
The July issue of The Buddhist Wheel contained an explanation of “Rinju
Gongyo,” the deathbed ritual. This traditional Buddhist rite provides a
precious moment for a terminally ill patient to be reminded of his/her
true source of life. For the family members, it is a time to bid
farewell to a dying family member, and also to thank him/her for
sharing the precious life.
More people are now asking Buddhist ministers to perform this rite
before removing a life support system from a terminally ill family
member. The decision for such a removal is not an easy one, for
it inevitably means death in a short period of time. What is then
wished for is the comfortable and peaceful transition from life on
earth, a wish to “pray” to the Buddha for the family member’s journey
to the “better place.” In consideration of these circumstances, “Rinju
Gongyo” is conducted.
I wish to share how I once conducted a service for a Hongwanji member
about five years ago at the Queen’s Medical Center. When I was
contacted by the family, I remembered the patient and his family
because I had served the family’s temple some twenty years ago. A
retired manager of a social agency in the district, this person I will
call Yasu, often offered assistance to the temple. At the age of
82, Yasu suffered multiple internal complications, and after receiving
many treatments, was placed on a life support system. Yasu’s condition
worsened until he fell into a coma. After several days, the
family decided to remove the life support system.
When I arrived at the hospital room, I saw the familiar faces of Yasu’s
children and his sister. With a smile, I nodded my head slightly
to say “Hello” to them. Drawing close to Yasu’s ear, I introduced
myself to him and told him that I remembered him and thanked him for
his assistance to the temple. I also reminded him that his family
members were with him, and that, therefore, he was not alone. I briefly
reminisced about his home town and earlier life, emphasizing his
parents’ love for him and his mother’s devotion to the temple.
To connect his life to the compassionate heart of Amida Buddha, I used
the metaphor of a stream of water and ocean water from a hymn (Wasan)
of Shinran. I told Yasu that he, as a stream of water, was
entering the ocean of wisdom of Amida Buddha. I asked him not to be
afraid to go forth. “Encouraged by the call of Amida Buddha, ‘Namo
Amida Butsu,’ keep on going and become part of the ocean,” I asked, as
Yasu breathed quietly and more slowly.
I concluded with a short sutra chanting, praising the virtue of the
Buddha that embraces us eternally. I continued chanting even as a nurse
came into the room to adjust the machine, and concluded with the
repeating of “Namo Amida Butsu.” The Rinju Gongyo took about twenty
minutes, after which I thanked the family for the opportunity.
When Yasu’s sister told me that Yasu had expired during the chanting, I
responded that it was a good way to go. After exchanging brief comments
about Yasu’s life and his passing with the family, I left for home.
The next morning, all of Yasu’s children came to see me and told me how
much they were at peace after all the worry they had felt for weeks.
The funeral service for Yasu was held at his family temple several days
later.
The Rinju Gongyo has such a profound effect on the dying person and the
families as well. It serves not only for closure but also as a means by
which life can go on.
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