A deathly hush (oops, sorry!) falls over everyone.

I like what one of the holy men said as it became clear he was going to die. His disciples became depressed. He said to them, "Don't you see that death gives loveliness to life? .... No, we'd much rather that you didn't die." Master:- "Whatever is truly alive must die. Look at the flowers - only plastic flowers never die."

When do you start teaching people to die? The Christian Church rightly makes a lot of fuss about the death of Jesus, but in my experience has a poor record in talking about death with people. The last possible moment is soon enough, it seems. Don't say anything until you have to, especially with people who are hale and hearty. I have done my share in keeping silent.

The Buddhists are very different. A young sprightly Buddhist monk once came to the local high school to talk about meditation. A dozen or so 13 - 14 year olds came of their own free will to listen. He looked quietly round the room and began so lightly and easily saying "we are all born to die. That's where we begin. Not by thinking we are going to live for ever. We are all dying now. Face that fact in the centre of your life and everything else falls into place."

That's not morbid, it's real. It starts right at the beginning to make clear what is important and what is less important to hold onto through life.

When did your family last talk together about your own deaths? When someone you -knew was mentally ill? or when Uncle Arthur had a heart attack? or over a cool pint one night? And which is preferable, do you think?

Some people die and don't know they're dead. Dead but they won't lie down. Literally. They're ghosts. 0h! they are around for some people in some places and though they may make you feel afraid because they spring surprises on you, they really need warmth, friendship, a greeting, and a quiet prayer to help them settle down and meet their new situation. Some people though have risen from the dead before they die. A young woman some of you know was dying of cancer. One day I went to see her and she was so weak she could hardly reach out and . A few days later when I called she was sitting in her nightie on her exercise bike, colostomy bag in her hand, cycling away merrily. She wrote a letter for me to read at her funeral that made everyone laugh. She had looked fear and death fight in the eye, that one, and the real death, the death of the spirit, had retreated in defeat.

An oldish lady, quite paralysed, gleamed at me from out the bedclothes just before she died and said, 'I feel as if I'm at the beginning of a brand new adventure."

I like this bit from the bible:-