Remember, You Will Die

If I told you Puritans spent a lot of time thinking about death, would it surprise you? When death approached, how could a Puritan know that God had chosen them for eternal life? 

First, we must start with predestination. The assurance of being one of God’s Elect, and therefore heaven-bound, was the source and summit of the Puritan faith. Death was on the Puritan brain because believers sought reliable evidence that they were among the Elect. Predestination was the Puritan belief that God had already determined who would receive salvation and eternal life. For believers, this choice was God’s alone, not something a person could earn through good works or change through their own actions. Historian Peter J. Thuesen describes Puritan predestination thus: 

What, then, are we to conclude about the mass of scholastic subtleties, contradictory images, and conflicting emotions that make up predestination’s Puritan career? In the final analysis, the irrepressibly dialectical Puritans aimed for a dialectic in their everyday piety as well, alternating self-abasement with meditation on heavenly joys–a regiment attested in such Catholic devotional masters as Bernard of Clairvaux, Thomas a Kempis, and Francis de Sales. For the Puritans, this spiritual discipline aimed for what we might call an ecstatic agony. Unlike a sudden acute pain caused by injury or disease, ecstatic agony was the constructive pain of ongoing struggle–the spiritual equivalent of the bodybuilder’s motto “no pain, no gain.” It is worth noting that the word “agony” comes from the Greek root for contest; similarly, an agonothete was the official who presided over the public games in ancient Greece. Agony in this sense was not always distinguishable from ecstasy, especially since the ultimate goal of any contest was to experience the exhilarating rush of victory. In fact, one of the definitions in the Oxford English Dictionary is “intensity or paroxysm of pleasure.” This might well describe the subjective experience of the Puritan who, after arduous spiritual struggle, finally reached a new high point of predestinarian assurance [pp. 68].

The spiritual struggle Thuesen describes was ultimately about assurance. Puritans believed salvation was determined by God, but they also sought evidence of God's grace in their own lives. For those who believed themselves among the Elect, death was not an occasion to discover whether they had done enough to earn heaven. It was the anticipated passage into the eternal life God had already prepared for them.

One of the most revealing accounts of a Puritan death comes from Increase Mather’s biography of his father, the Reverend Richard Mather, who died in Dorchester on April 22, 1669, at the age of seventy-three. Richard had spent more than fifty years in the ministry. According to Increase, he had enjoyed remarkably good health for most of his life, rarely missing a Sunday of public worship because of illness. But during the final two years of his life, he suffered from a painful condition known as the stone, which brought both his life and ministry to an end.

Richard’s final illness began on April 16, 1669, while he was attending a gathering of ministers in Boston. He became gravely ill and returned to Dorchester. Though his suffering was considerable, Increase describes his father as remarkably patient. He did not cry out, and he continued reading a work on patience by the English theologian Thomas Goodwin, even on the day he died.

His son recalled that when Richard was told that the passage of several small stones might bring him some relief, he simply answered, “As for that matter, the Will of the Lord be done.” When asked how he was feeling, his usual response was, “Far from well, yet far better than my iniquities deserve.”

These words reveal something important about the Puritan understanding of a good death. Physical suffering was not necessarily a sign that God had abandoned someone. Rather, the response to suffering could become an expression of faith, humility, and submission to divine providence.

Increase also records a final conversation between father and son. Realizing that his father might not live much longer, he asked whether there was anything he wished to impress upon him. Richard paused, and raised his eyes and hands toward heaven. He spoke not about his own salvation or his personal legacy, but about the rising generation in New England. He urged his son to care for the young and bring them under the government of Christ and the church.

As his condition worsened, Richard could speak very little. On the morning of April 22, Increase visited him and told him he would soon be in the joy of his Lord. His father raised his hands, but could not answer. When Increase reminded Richard that he would soon see Jesus Christ, whose presence would make amends for all his pain and sorrow, he again lifted his hands. He died quietly that evening.

Michael Wigglesworth, the minister of Malden and author of The Day of Doom, offers another perspective. Like Richard Mather, Wigglesworth endured years of poor health. His illnesses repeatedly interrupted his ministry, at times keeping him from public work for extended periods. Cotton Mather, who preached his funeral sermon in June 1705, described him as a man who continued to serve his congregation despite physical weakness.

Wigglesworth’s own writings give us an especially personal glimpse into how he thought about death. In a poem titled “Death Expected and Welcomed,” he imagines death not simply as an ending, but as release from the pain and weariness of earthly life:

Welcome sweet Rest, by me so long Desir’d,

Who have with Sins and Griefs so long been tir’d;

And welcome Death, my Father’s messenger;

Of my Felicity the hastener.

Wigglesworth died on Sunday morning, June 10, 1705, in the seventy-fourth year of his life.

Richard Mather and Michael Wigglesworth lived in different generations, but their accounts share a number of themes. For these men, death was not a terrifying leap into the unknown. Their testimonies suggest they regarded themselves as among the Elect, and that the assurance of salvation brought comfort as their earthly lives came to an end. 

For the Puritans, death was never merely the end of life. It was a moment when the uncertainties and struggles of earthly existence gave way to eternity. A lifetime of faith could offer grounds for assurance, but it did not earn salvation. In the end, the hope of the Elect rested not in their own accomplishments, but in the grace of God.

Until next time, keep questioning the past. It normally has receipts.

Notes & Sources

1. Mather, Cotton. A Faithful Man, Described and Rewarded: Some Observable & Serviceable Passages in Life and Death of Mr. Michael Wigglesworth. Boston: Printed by B. Green for Benjamin Eliot, 1705. 

2. Mather, Increase. The Life and Death of That Reverend Man of God, Mr. Richard Mather, Teacher of the Church in Dorchester in New-England (1670). Reprinted in Journal of Richard Mather, 1635: His Life and Death, 1670, 2nd ed. Boston: D. Clapp, 1874.

3. Sproul, R.C. Now That’s a Good Question!  Wheaton, Ill.: Tyndale House, 1996, pp. 90.

4. Thuesen, Peter J. Predestination: The American Career of a Contentious Doctrine. New York: Oxford University Press, 2009, especially chapter 2, “The Agony and the Ecstasy: Predestination in New England Puritanism,” pp. 44-72.