The Culture of Death

When society calls death compassion and confusion identity, the Church must rise—not in outrage, but in truth and love—to remind the world that life still matters because God still breathes life into it.

There’s a quiet epidemic spreading through Western culture. It doesn’t make headlines every day, but it’s everywhere—from the way we talk about life, to how we treat the weak, the elderly, the unborn, and even ourselves. It’s what Pope John Paul II once called “the culture of death”—a mindset that devalues life when it’s inconvenient, unprofitable, or imperfect.

We’ve learned to sanitize death and celebrate autonomy. We’ve traded the sanctity of life for the illusion of control. Whether it’s abortion disguised as “reproductive health,” assisted suicide framed as “dying with dignity,” or the glorification of violence in entertainment, death has become strangely normalized—even noble.

But the culture of death goes deeper than policy—it shapes how we think about people. It’s not only about ending life; it’s about redefining whose life is worth living. In places like Canada, we’ve begun to see this shift firsthand. Those facing terminal diagnoses are no longer viewed as the ones suffering—it’s society that supposedly suffers because of them. The dying are framed as burdens: too costly, too time-consuming, too inconvenient. Keeping them alive is viewed as unfair to the healthy. So, the terminally ill person stops being seen as precious and becomes an expense line item to manage.

The same logic is applied to the unborn. The baby is no longer the victim, but the inconvenience. The mother—facing a difficult or unplanned pregnancy—is told she is the one suffering, that her freedom, career, or future is being threatened by this “clump of cells.” The victim has changed places. Society becomes the victim, and death becomes the solution.

But when we adopt that way of thinking, destruction always follows. Once life becomes negotiable, so does identity. Gender dysphoria rises, and the mutilation of children’s bodies becomes not only accepted but celebrated. Doctors are pressured to affirm what God never intended to change, and children—made in His image—are taught to doubt His design. The destruction of what God called good is now called progress.

This is what happens when a culture detaches itself from its Creator. It can no longer tell the difference between compassion and convenience, between freedom and bondage, between good and evil. As Isaiah warned, “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness” (Isaiah 5:20). Nietzsche once described this condition as “the earth being unchained from its sun.” The light that once guided us is gone, and now we wander in the dark—like being dropped into a forest with a compass that only points back at the person who is lost. Without light to lead and truth to direct, both individuals and societies lose all sense of direction.

But the gospel speaks into this darkness with an entirely different vision. Jesus said, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it abundantly” (John 10:10). Where the culture of death steals meaning, Christ restores it. Where it kills, Christ revives. Where it destroys, Christ redeems.

Christians must never grow numb to this contrast. We are not merely against abortion or euthanasia; we are for life—every life, from womb to tomb. We believe that every person bears the image of God, and that image gives immeasurable worth.

Our response can’t just be outrage. It must be presence. The Church is called to step into the broken places with compassion and conviction—to hold the hand of the suffering, to adopt the abandoned, to speak truth in love to a confused generation. We don’t just defend life; we model it—by showing what it looks like to live with joy, hope, and holiness in a dying world.

Romans 8 says that all creation groans, waiting for redemption. And maybe part of that redemption starts when the people of God refuse to accept death as normal. When we choose to celebrate life, to protect it, and to offer the life-giving truth of Jesus to a culture that desperately needs it.

Because the culture of death has nothing to offer beyond despair. But the Kingdom of God? It offers life everlasting.