Spiritual collage exploring life after death, with a galaxy, figures from religious traditions, spirit communication, books, a person in contemplation, and a winding path leading toward light.

Is there really life after death?

Every generation returns to the same question, not because science fails to answer it, but because the human heart keeps asking. It’s perhaps one of the oldest questions asked by humans, “What happens after death?”

Science can tell us a remarkable amount about what happens to the physical body when we die but says little about the continuity of life. Neil deGrasse Tyson, the noted astrophysicist, reminds us of the ancient origins of the matter that makes up our bodies. As he writes in Astrophysics for People in a Hurry (2017), “We are stardust brought to life, then empowered by the universe to figure itself out—and we have only just begun.”

It isn’t a metaphor, it’s astrophysics. Matter does not disappear, it reorganizes. Science, however, cannot speak to personal continuity, only to the material continuity of the body. The atoms that make us are ancient, and they do not vanish at death—they return to the cosmos that formed them. There is also the annihilationist view that the person ceases to exist at death. All that might remain are nonreligious forms of continuity in the form of, for example, social bonds, memories, or elements of the natural world. These are, of course, not scientific proofs of an afterlife, but are views that integrate scientific understanding with personal meaning.

I am not a scientist. But I enjoy reading about how science views human experience. When it comes to life after death, the truthful answer is... well, we don't know. But I have had many experiences that made it impossible for me to dismiss the question.

For a brief period in my early life, I became a minister in a Spiritualist church. My curiosity and quest for knowledge led me to a world-renowned physical phenomena medium. I was invited to a presentation by a member of a spiritualist church. A spiritualist church is a religious and philosophical community organized about the belief that life continues after physical death and that communication with the deceased spirit is possible that typically takes place through a trained medium. In the United States the spiritualist movement began in the 1840s and is usually linked to the séances conducted by the Fox sisters at Hydesville, Arcadia, New York.

Spiritualism was not limited to the United States. Spiritualist and related traditions can be found in different parts of the world, including Europe, Latin America, the Caribbean, and Africa. There is also an important distinction between Spiritualism and Spiritism. The terms are sometimes used interchangeably, but they do not mean exactly the same thing. Spiritism developed from the teachings of the French educator Allan Kardec and became particularly influential in Latin America, especially Brazil. And long before either movement appeared, Indigenous cultures around the world had their own traditions involving ancestors, spirits, and communication with the unseen world.

A medium is a person who serves as an intermediary between the living and the dead—someone who perceives, senses, or communicates impressions believed to come from individuals who have passed on. My family never discussed such things. And my Lutheran church certainly shunned such activities. At that time in my young life, I had heard of séances but never had I attended a so-called séance. I was curious. But what was I to expect? Someone I had just met recognized my curiosity and invited me to a church meeting.

I sat in the front row with a dear friend I asked to go with me for security and support. We listened to a communication and then witnessed incredible things. The interesting part of this story is that even though we both witnessed the same thing and confirmed what we both saw in a long discussion afterward, he never came back to that little church. But I did. I had many, many questions.

I read. I asked even more questions. I studied. I studied to the point where I was asked, through spiritual communication, if I would be willing to become a spiritual leader of that small church. I said yes.

And over several years of being a part of that group I witnessed hundreds of communications from the so-called dead. But why would I even mention this to you? My personal experience with hearing communications from the dead proves nothing to you. But it does suggest how I arrived to where I am now in life.

Mediumship has many definitions. A textbook definition might describe mediumship as an experiential ability rather than a doctrinal claim, and it typically involves intuition, symbolic perception, and a heightened sensitivity to subtle impressions. When I was trying to explain it to someone new, I used the analogy of a telephone operator—a conduit through which information passes. But there was another analogy I found useful. A conduit is also like a pipe. The pipe can be clean and unobstructed, or it can be rusty and filled with debris. What flows through it may be affected by the condition of the pipe. Or the skill of the medium.

The interesting part is that with time I came to understand my own abilities. I never thought of myself as psychic. I still don't. But over the years I have come to recognize a certain sensitivity in myself—to intuition, to people, and sometimes to things I cannot easily explain. Learning to trust my intuition has been a lifelong process. Indeed, I am trusting that instinct now to share this writing with you.

During my time with that church one of the questions I asked was what was the purpose of the phenomenon I witnessed. The response was rhetorical, “What was the purpose of the phenomenon surrounding the life of Jesus? Additionally, what was more important, the phenomena, or the words of Christ?”

As I considered this thought more closely, I began to notice how often extraordinary experiences appear in the history of religion. There was Moses and the burning bush. And countless Hebrew prophets who received visions and messages attributed to God. There was Paul’s experience on the road to Damascus. Muhammad’s reported reception of revelation from the Archangel Gabriel. And Joseph Smith’s account of visions and angelic encounters. There was also Buddha’s experience of enlightenment under the Bodhi tree. Different in character, certainly. But each involved an extraordinary experience that changed what followed.

With this understanding, I began to focus less on the phenomena and more on the communications themselves—the concepts being expressed and who or what was communicating.

I soon discovered that just as there appears to be a hierarchy of intelligence and insight among human beings, a similar hierarchy seemed to exist in the spirit world. If I was going to listen to the words of departed souls, I wanted to listen to the ones who seemed most Christ-like.

But how could this be known? My previous faith denounced all communications not sanctioned by the Christian church. But my curiosity and my intuition led me elsewhere. Because I welcomed unusual spiritual experiences in my life, I began to develop the ability to discern worthwhile communications from nonsense. I had various contrasts to draw from. Discernment is a very important skill to develop in life. It comes from the experience of assessment: learning to discern by repeatedly having to discern. It means observing mindfully, comparing, judging, sometimes getting it wrong, and learning from the result. In truth, sometimes you get it right and sometimes not. But experience makes the difference.

Again, I don’t claim to be some sort of expert. I have listened to and studied many different perspectives. Over time, I began to notice certain themes that appeared again and again, even among very different beliefs and traditions. Their commonality did not necessarily make them true. But it gave me reason to look more closely and consider how those principles held up against my own experience.

It shouldn’t be hard for most of us to understand, for example, that the Golden Rule is an effective guiding principle for one’s life.

I remember something I was taught in that small spiritualist church decades ago: “Do the teachings heal the sick, comfort the mourner, or inspire the truth seeker?”

These are the same principles you should apply to the commentary on this website.

Continue the journey...
— uMdali Light 🌿

If this topic interests you, these references may be useful:

  • Jim B. Tucker, Life Before Life — scientific research into children’s past-life memories at the University of Virginia’s Division of Perceptual Studies.

  • Weston D. Bailey, A Profile of Human Potential — a concise guide to metaphysics, parapsychology, religion, and the evolution of consciousness.

  • William T. Stead and Estelle Stead, The Blue Island and Other Spiritualist Writings – a selection of classic accounts of the afterlife.