Accounts of Premortality?
The following originally appeared on Sic et Non. CLICK HERE to read more.
Here are a few more passages that I marked while reading P.M.H. Atwater, The Big Book of Near-Death Experiences: The Ultimate Guide to What Happens When We Die (Charlottesville, VA: Hampton Roads Publishing Company, 2007). As I’ve noted here already, P.M.H. Atwater herself died about three months ago, at the age of eighty-eight.
The first two passages, I think, will resonate with Latter-day Saint readers, who affirm belief in the antemortal existence of the human soul:
In my research of 277 child experiencers, half could remember their birth; one-third had prebirth memories. What’s intriguing, though, is that some remembered not only choosing their parents before conception, but selecting what genes—and even physical handicaps—they might need to accomplish their life’s goal. They spoke as if they were a soul leaving one home to go to another. Most of the prebirth memories I was able to trace began at about seven months in utero, a time when it is known medically that the fetus can respond to pain. (286)
Ned Dougherty of the Hamptons, New York, is a former nightclub owner and self-professed former hedonist and womanizer, who “died” following a violent fight. During his near-death scenario, he found himself in the presence of a number of beautiful children. Upon asking the angel who accompanied him who they were, he learned to his horror that each one was a child intended for him while he was on Earth. But because he didn’t want to be inconvenienced by fatherhood, none of them were able to be born and they now existed as “spirit children.” This experience so transformed Ned that not only did he reprioritize his life, he also became an active supporter of the “Right to Life” movement and has since testified against abortion at a congressional hearing. His entire account, including revelations given to him, is detailed in his book Fast Lane to Heaven. (287)
Although the “blue ball” is unfamiliar to me, the next passage is very reminiscent of an account given to me several years ago, quite unsolicited, by a man in North Carolina who similarly said that he had found himself floating about a hundred feet above a serious accident in which his car had been t-boned by a truck in the woods. He watched the lights of the emergency vehicles reflected on the trees as they approached, and then saw paramedics working on his body. He tried to tell them not to worry, that he felt absolutely — indeed perfectly — find, but he couldn’t make himself heard. And then he suddenly found himself back in his body, and I’ve never forgotten the expression of his voice as he recalled to me that “it hurt like hell!”
One woman I interviewed was involved in a serious car accident. In the midst of the twisted steel she saw and felt herself rise up from her body and enter a gorgeous blue ball. In the ball she felt protected and loved, and totally without pain or concern for what had happened to her.
The ball floated in and around the accident scene, giving her an opportunity to view everything from both close up and far away. She saw emergency vans rushing to the site and noticed that her husband, who worked for the hospital rescue squad, was in one of them. She discovered that she could move the blue ball with her thoughts, so she guided it to where her husband was as he fought his way through the wreckage. The moment he recognized his own wife’s body, she watched as he fell apart with grief. His grief so touched her that she decided to return to her body so she could console him. That desire instantly brought her back. (20-21)
I’m strongly inclined to share Atwater’s opinion of such accounts, which are legion:
True, we can rationalize away a few of the findings in the field of near-death studies, but we can’t even begin to explain the core drama, its clarity and consistency over time, and how lives are transformed—most of them permanently. (255-256)
But one aspect of her experience in the field is striking. One might certainly have expected that religious people, and especially members of the clergy, would welcome near-death experiences as validated a theistic worldview. And, in fact, many do. But, for various reasons, many also do not:
In the beginning of near-death research, people such as myself were excited by the findings we were getting and looked forward to the religious community being equally excited. We were not only surprised but shocked to discover that, in many religions, “people of the cloth” turned against our work and condemned or heavily criticized the entire phenomenon. (225)
A Latter-day Saint can hardly fail to be reminded, in this context, of the experience of the very young Joseph Smith in the period immediately following his First Vision:
Some few days after I had this vision, I happened to be in company with one of the Methodist preachers, who was very active in the before mentioned religious excitement; and, conversing with him on the subject of religion, I took occasion to give him an account of the vision which I had had. I was greatly surprised at his behavior; he treated my communication not only lightly, but with great contempt, saying it was all of the devil, that there were no such things as visions or revelations in these days; that all such things had ceased with the apostles, and that there would never be any more of them. (Joseph Smith—History 1:21)