Chapter 10
In the previous chapters, we examined some of the most compelling evidence for the reality of near-death experiences. We looked at veridical NDEs — cases where patients reported accurate information they could not have known through normal means (Chapter 6). We explored the extraordinary case of Pam Reynolds, whose consciousness apparently functioned during a procedure in which her brain showed zero measurable activity (Chapter 7). We considered blind NDEs, where people born without sight reported visual perceptions during their experiences (Chapter 8). And we surveyed children's NDEs, which undermine the claim that NDEs are shaped by cultural conditioning (Chapter 9).
Now I want to introduce you to a category of evidence that may be the most surprising of all. It is a category that most readers — including most Christians who are already familiar with NDEs — have probably never heard of. And yet, when you grasp what it means, it may be the single most conceptually devastating piece of evidence against the claim that NDEs are just hallucinations produced by a dying brain.
I am talking about shared-death experiences.
A shared-death experience — sometimes abbreviated SDE — is a case in which a person who is physically healthy and present at a death shares some or all of the dying person's spiritual experience. The healthy bystander is not dying. Their brain is not oxygen-deprived. They are not on medication. They are not in a medical crisis of any kind. They are simply present — a family member sitting at the bedside, a nurse in the room, a friend keeping vigil, a chaplain offering comfort. And yet, at the moment of their loved one's death, they experience something extraordinary.
What do they experience? The reports are remarkably consistent, and they overlap significantly with what NDErs themselves report. Here are the most commonly described features:
First, many bystanders report seeing a brilliant, unearthly light emanating from or surrounding the dying person — not metaphorically, but literally. A visible light fills the room. It is not sunlight through a window or a reflection from a passing car. It is a light unlike anything they have ever seen before — warm, intense, and otherworldly.
Second, some bystanders report seeing spiritual beings in the room — angels, deceased relatives, luminous figures — often surrounding the dying person as if welcoming them. These beings are visible to the healthy bystander, not just to the dying person.
Third, some bystanders report seeing the dying person's spirit or soul leave the body. They describe it as a mist, a luminous form, or a transparent image of the person rising from the body and moving upward or toward a light.
Fourth, some bystanders report experiencing an out-of-body state themselves. They feel their own consciousness separate from their body, lifting up alongside the dying person, as if they are being taken on the journey together.
Fifth, some bystanders report being transported to a heavenly realm alongside the dying person. They see landscapes of extraordinary beauty — fields, gardens, brilliant colors, celestial structures — the same kinds of environments that NDErs consistently describe.
Sixth, some bystanders report experiencing the dying person's life review. They see flashes of the dying person's life — sometimes including events they could not have known about.
Seventh, some bystanders report hearing unearthly music — beautiful, harmonious, and unlike any music they have heard on earth. This corresponds to the music that dying persons frequently report hearing in both NDEs and deathbed visions.
Key Definition: A shared-death experience (SDE) occurs when a healthy bystander at the bedside of a dying person shares aspects of the dying person's spiritual experience — seeing light, spiritual beings, heavenly realms, or the soul departing the body. The bystander's brain is perfectly healthy. There is no medical crisis, no oxygen deprivation, no drugs. Yet they experience the same phenomena that NDErs report.
Why does this matter so much? Think about it for a moment. The most common skeptical explanation for NDEs is that they are produced by a dying brain. Oxygen deprivation, a surge of brain chemicals, random neural firing — these are the standard explanations offered by those who want to reduce NDEs to brain chemistry. And while these explanations fail for many reasons we have already explored in previous chapters, they at least have a surface plausibility when applied to the dying person, whose brain really is undergoing physiological stress.
But what about the bystander? The bystander's brain is perfectly healthy. There is no oxygen deprivation. There are no unusual brain chemicals. There is no medical crisis. If NDEs are nothing but dying-brain hallucinations, then the bystander should experience absolutely nothing. They should simply watch their loved one die and feel grief. The fact that healthy bystanders share the dying person's experience eliminates the dying-brain hypothesis in a single stroke.
Let's look at the research.
Raymond Moody is the physician and philosopher who launched the modern study of near-death experiences with his groundbreaking 1975 book Life After Life. It was Moody who coined the term "near-death experience" and first catalogued the common elements that NDErs report — the out-of-body experience, the tunnel, the light, the life review, the encounter with deceased relatives, and the reluctance to return.
After decades of collecting NDE reports, Moody began noticing something he had not expected. Along with the NDE accounts, he started receiving reports from people who had been present at someone else's death — family members, nurses, friends — who described sharing aspects of the dying person's experience. These were not people who had been near death themselves. They were healthy bystanders who, at the moment of their loved one's passing, found themselves drawn into the same spiritual journey.
Moody published the first systematic collection of these cases in his 2010 book Glimpses of Eternity: Sharing a Loved One's Passage from This Life to the Next, coining the term "shared-death experience." Later, in his 2023 book Proof of Life After Life, he expanded his treatment of SDEs and reflected further on their significance.1
As Moody explained, a shared-death experience involves the same kinds of elements that define a near-death experience — but the difference is that the person having the experience is not themselves near death. They are not ill or injured. Rather, they are in the presence of someone who is dying, and they co-live the dying person's experience so closely that Moody came to call these experiences "empathic."2
Moody identified several distinct types of SDEs. Some involved bystanders who were physically present at the bedside. Others involved people at a distance — sometimes many miles away — who experienced phenomena at the precise moment of their loved one's death, before anyone had informed them of the death. Both types challenge the dying-brain hypothesis, but the at-a-distance cases are especially striking, because they rule out any possibility that the bystander was influenced by the emotional atmosphere of the deathbed.
One of the most compelling SDE cases in the research literature was reported to Dr. Moody by a family in an Atlanta suburb. The case involves not one but five healthy bystanders — all of whom independently witnessed the same extraordinary phenomena. Let me share this account, because it is one of those cases that stops you in your tracks.
A woman was dying after a long decline. Her two sons, her daughter, her sister-in-law, and her other daughter were all gathered in the room. The mother had not spoken for hours and was breathing irregularly. The family knew this was the end. None of them were especially upset — they had known this was coming and had made their peace with it.
Then something happened that none of them expected.
One of the daughters described it this way: a brilliant light suddenly appeared in the room. Her first thought was that it might be a reflection from a car passing outside. But even as she thought this, she knew it was not true. This was not any kind of light she had ever seen on earth. She nudged her sister to see if she could see it too — and when she looked at her sister, her sister's eyes were enormous. At the same time, she saw her brother literally gasp. Everyone in the room saw the light. For a little while, they were frightened.3
Then their mother expired. And at that moment, the family saw something even more extraordinary. Vivid, bright lights seemed to gather and form into what the daughter could only describe as an entranceway. The lights looked something like clouds, though she stressed that was only a rough comparison. The family then saw their mother's form lift up out of her body and move through that entranceway. Standing near the entranceway, they felt a sense of complete joy. One brother described it as a chorus of joyful feelings. One sister reported hearing beautiful music, though the others did not hear it.4
The family — originally from Virginia — agreed that the entranceway was shaped something like the Natural Bridge in the Shenandoah Valley. The lights were so vivid, and the experience so overwhelming, that they felt compelled to tell the hospice nurse what had happened. The nurse listened calmly and told them she knew of similar things happening. It was not uncommon, she said, for the dying process to encompass people nearby.5
Why This Case Matters: Five healthy adults — none of them dying, none of them on medication, none of them in any kind of medical crisis — independently witnessed the same phenomena: a brilliant unearthly light, a luminous entranceway, and their mother's form rising from her body. This cannot be explained by the dying-brain hypothesis, because the bystanders' brains were perfectly healthy. It cannot be explained by individual hallucination, because multiple people saw the same thing. It cannot be explained by grief, because the family was calm and prepared. This is exactly what we would expect if the dying process involves an objective spiritual reality — a real transition from one realm to another that can sometimes be perceived by those who are present.
I want you to notice several things about this case. The family members were not expecting anything unusual. They had gathered to say goodbye and were emotionally prepared for their mother's death. There was no anticipation of a supernatural event. The phenomena were not gradual or ambiguous — they were sudden, vivid, and unmistakable. Multiple family members independently noticed the light at the same moment — the daughter nudged her sister, her brother gasped. This rules out the possibility that one person imagined something and then talked the others into believing they saw it too. And the content of the experience — light, an entranceway, the mother's form rising, feelings of joy, celestial music — is consistent with what NDErs report when they describe leaving the body and entering a heavenly realm.
Another remarkable case was reported by Linda Moore in her doctoral dissertation, which surveyed 571 nursing faculty across the United States about their experiences with dying patients. One of the respondents shared the following account from her hospital.
A patient who was dying had been talking about seeing deceased relatives near her bed. When she died, the hospital staff — many of them — were monitoring her room through the telemetry camera system. On the monitor, they saw what appeared to be a large number of people gathered around the patient's bed. However, the only people physically present in the room were the hospital nurse and the respiratory therapist. When the woman died, the camera showed the figures all leaving the bedside. Multiple staff members witnessed this on the monitors, and the experience — as Moore reported — deeply unsettled them.6
This case is significant for several reasons. First, it was observed on a camera system, not just by bedside observers. Second, multiple staff members independently witnessed the same phenomena on the monitors. Third, the content — figures appearing around the dying patient and then departing after death — is consistent with the deathbed vision reports that nurses and family members have documented for centuries: the dying person sees deceased relatives coming to greet them, and at the moment of death, these figures seem to escort the person away.
Now, I want to be careful here. A single case like this, without the ability to examine the camera footage ourselves, does not constitute definitive proof of anything. We are relying on the testimony of the nursing staff who reported it to Moore. But it is one more piece in a growing body of evidence — and when combined with cases like the Anderson family, where multiple healthy bystanders independently witnessed the same phenomena, the cumulative weight becomes very difficult to dismiss.
J. Steve Miller, whose research on the compatibility of NDEs and Christianity forms a central pillar of this book, reports a shared-death experience from his own family circle. Miller's relative, Bucky Barrett, was a retired history teacher — a man Miller knew personally and trusted for his intelligence, his levelheadedness, and his integrity.7
One night, Bucky woke at around 3:00 AM feeling an extreme heaviness on his chest, much like what people describe during a heart attack. He then left his body — looking down at himself from the ceiling. He saw a tunnel of light in the upper corner of his bedroom and felt a profound sense of peace. He also perceived what seemed to be celestial beings. Then, suddenly, he found himself back in his body, drenched in sweat.8
Immediately the phone rang. A nurse on the other end told him that his father — who lived ninety miles away and had not been ill — had just died of a sudden heart attack.9
Think about what happened here. Bucky was not dying. He was not near death. He was healthy and asleep in his own bed, ninety miles from his father. He had no idea his father was in danger. Yet at the precise moment of his father's death, he experienced classic NDE elements — the chest pressure, the out-of-body state, the tunnel, the light, celestial beings, a feeling of peace — and then was snapped back to his body by the ringing of the phone.
As Miller asks: How do we explain a shared-death experience as a natural outcome of a dying brain, when the person experiencing it is not dying? There is no anoxia — no oxygen deprivation — in Bucky's brain. There is no surge of brain chemicals. There is no medical crisis. His brain is functioning normally. He is asleep in his own house. And yet he shares his father's dying experience from ninety miles away.10
This type of case — an at-a-distance SDE — is especially powerful because it eliminates not only the dying-brain hypothesis but also any explanation based on the emotional atmosphere of the deathbed. Bucky was not sitting in a hospital room surrounded by grief-stricken family members. He was alone, asleep, in his own bedroom. The only connection between him and his father was an emotional and relational bond. If the shared-death experience is real, it suggests that the dying process involves something that can reach across physical distance — something that is not limited by the constraints of the material world.
Shaun Tabatt, whose important work on discernment regarding NDEs we will engage extensively in Chapter 25, provides a touching SDE case in The NDE Conspiracy. Tabatt describes three types of shared-death experiences he has encountered in his reading and interviews. One of the most compelling involves a hospice nurse named Heidi, whose mother was dying in a memory care facility.11
During her mother's final days, Heidi's mother experienced terminal lucidity — that remarkable phenomenon where a person whose brain has been severely compromised suddenly regains full consciousness, speaks clearly, and communicates meaningful things before dying. Heidi's mother had a lucid conversation in which her last words were striking: "Life was meant to be fun." Then she slipped into a coma.
Ten days later, Heidi — who was not at the facility — had a vivid dream of her mother's death. In the dream, she saw her mother clearly. She saw her mother having fun, full of joy. And she saw her mother get on what she described as "a train to Heaven." Immediately after the dream, Heidi was awakened by a phone call from the memory care facility informing her that her mother had just passed away.12
As Tabatt noted, this falls into the category of a shared-death experience — specifically, the type where someone at a distance has a vision or dream of their loved one at the moment of death. Heidi was not dying. Her brain was healthy. She was asleep in her own home. And yet, at the precise moment of her mother's death, she had an experience that appears to have been a window into her mother's transition from this life to the next.
Tabatt also shares a deeply personal case from his own family. His mother's brother had suffered brain damage from a surgical complication as an eight-year-old child, leaving him with the mental capacity of an elementary-age child for the rest of his life. When this uncle was in his sixties, he was dying after a series of illnesses. In the hospital room, he was surrounded by Tabatt's mother and several aunts and uncles.13
As he neared death, Tabatt's uncle looked up at the ceiling and excitedly began saying, "Mama! Mama!" — which was how he had always referred to his mother, Tabatt's maternal grandmother, who had preceded him in death. The family members in the room watched as this man with the mental capacity of a child spoke with obvious recognition and excitement toward someone they could not see — someone he identified as his deceased mother.14
Now, strictly speaking, this is a deathbed vision (the dying person seeing a deceased relative) witnessed by healthy bystanders, rather than a case where the bystanders themselves shared the dying person's visual experience. But it belongs in our discussion because the bystanders observed the dying person's reaction — his recognition, his excitement, his communication with an invisible presence — and this observation was shared by the entire family in the room. It is a case where the objective reality of what the dying person was experiencing was indirectly witnessed by multiple healthy observers through his behavior.
And Tabatt makes an important observation: given his uncle's mental capacity, he would have had no ability to construct a fiction or play-act. He spoke things as he saw them. If he said he saw Mama, he was reporting what he genuinely perceived.15
William Peters is a researcher who founded the Shared Crossing Project — an organization specifically dedicated to studying and documenting shared-death experiences. Peters has collected hundreds of SDE cases and developed a detailed classification system for the different types of shared crossings that people report.16
Peters's research has confirmed and expanded Moody's initial findings. His work has shown that SDEs are not as rare as one might think. They occur across cultures, across religious backgrounds, and across all kinds of relational contexts — spouses, children, parents, friends, and even professional caregivers (nurses, hospice workers, chaplains) who have no personal relationship with the dying person beyond their professional role.
Peters has documented cases in which bystanders report the full range of SDE phenomena: seeing light, perceiving the soul leaving the body, feeling transported to another realm, encountering deceased relatives of the patient (sometimes people the bystander had never met and could not have known about), and experiencing profound feelings of peace, love, and joy.
One of the most significant contributions of Peters's research is his documentation of cases where multiple bystanders independently report the same phenomena. As we saw with the Anderson family case reported by Moody, when two or more people see the same light, hear the same music, or feel the same presence — without consulting each other beforehand — the explanation of individual hallucination becomes very difficult to maintain. Group hallucination, in which multiple people simultaneously hallucinate the same specific content without any external stimulus, is not a recognized phenomenon in mainstream psychiatry. People can share delusions through social influence over time, but spontaneous, simultaneous, content-identical hallucinations among multiple healthy people are essentially unheard of in the medical literature.17
As the research has accumulated, it has become possible to classify SDEs into several distinct types. Understanding these categories is important because it shows that SDEs are not a single, monolithic phenomenon but a family of related experiences that share a common core: a healthy person perceiving aspects of a dying person's spiritual transition.
The first type is the bedside SDE. This is the most commonly reported form. A family member, friend, nurse, or chaplain is physically present in the room when the dying person passes, and at the moment of death — or in the minutes immediately surrounding it — the bystander perceives phenomena such as light, spiritual beings, the soul leaving the body, or feelings of peace and joy. The Anderson family case is a classic example. The bystander is right there, physically close to the dying person, and shares in the experience as it happens.
The second type is the at-a-distance SDE. Here, the bystander is not physically present at the deathbed. They may be miles away — at home, at work, in another city, or even in another country. Yet at the precise moment of their loved one's death, they experience something extraordinary: a vivid vision, a sense of presence, a feeling of peace, or even a full-blown NDE-like experience with out-of-body elements. Bucky Barrett's case is a clear example. The Fenwicks documented numerous such cases in the UK. These are especially significant because they eliminate any explanation based on the emotional atmosphere of the deathbed — there is no deathbed atmosphere for the bystander. The only connection is the relational bond between the bystander and the dying person.
The third type is the dream SDE. In these cases, the bystander has a vivid dream of the dying person — a dream that is qualitatively different from ordinary dreams, often described as hyper-real, lucid, and saturated with emotion — at or near the moment of death. The hospice nurse Heidi, whose case Tabatt describes, experienced this type. She dreamed of her mother getting on a train to heaven and was awakened by the phone call informing her that her mother had died. Dream SDEs are sometimes dismissed as coincidence, but when the specific content of the dream matches the timing of the death — and when the dreamer had no advance knowledge that the death was imminent — coincidence becomes a strained explanation.
The fourth type is the shared vision SDE. In some cases, the bystander does not merely see light or feel peace — they are apparently taken into the same heavenly realm that the dying person is entering. They see landscapes, beings, and structures that correspond to what NDErs and deathbed visionaries describe. These are the most dramatic and detailed SDEs, and they are also the rarest. But when they occur, they provide extraordinarily rich descriptions of the spiritual realm — descriptions given by people who were not dying, not on medication, and not in any kind of altered mental state.
Each of these types has its own evidential strengths. Bedside SDEs demonstrate that the experience at death is objective — perceptible by others in the room. At-a-distance SDEs demonstrate that whatever is happening is not limited by physical proximity. Dream SDEs show that the connection between the living and the dying can cross the boundary of consciousness itself. And shared vision SDEs provide detailed information about the spiritual realm from a source that cannot be explained by the dying-brain hypothesis.
Peter Fenwick, a distinguished British neuropsychiatrist, and his wife Elizabeth Fenwick conducted extensive research on end-of-life experiences in the United Kingdom, published in their book The Art of Dying. Their research is especially valuable because it comes from a medical professional with impeccable credentials in neuroscience — someone who understands how the brain works and is not inclined to accept supernatural explanations without careful scrutiny.18
The Fenwicks documented numerous cases of what they called "deathbed coincidences" — phenomena experienced by healthy relatives or friends at or near the moment of a loved one's death. These included seeing unexplained light in the room, sensing a vivid "visit" from the dying person at the moment of death, hearing music, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace or love, and even perceiving the dying person's spirit leaving the body.
Particularly striking are the Fenwicks' at-a-distance cases. In these, a family member or friend who is miles away from the dying person experiences a sudden, vivid phenomenon — a vision, a feeling of presence, an inexplicable sense of peace — and later learns that it occurred at the precise moment of their loved one's death. In some cases, the bystander did not even know the person was ill or in danger. These at-a-distance cases are devastating for any explanation based on the emotional atmosphere of the deathbed, because there is no deathbed atmosphere — the bystander is at home, at work, or somewhere else entirely.
In their study, Fenwick and Brayne reported that approximately five percent of their end-of-life cases involved what they described as simultaneous viewing of apparitions by both the dying person and the bystander. That number may seem small until you consider how many people die each year — and how many family members and friends are present at those deaths. Five percent of millions of deaths translates to a very large number of shared-death experiences occurring around the world every year.19
The research on shared-death experiences extends beyond the work of Moody, Peters, and the Fenwicks. Bill and Judy Guggenheim devoted an entire chapter to shared experiences in their book Hello From Heaven!, which catalogued over 3,300 after-death communication experiences collected from people across the United States and Canada.20 In the scholarly literature, Howarth and Kellehear published a peer-reviewed article in the Journal of Near-Death Studies documenting shared near-death and related illness experiences and noting that bystanders sometimes perceive the same phenomena as the dying person.21 As far back as 1906, Bozzano published cases of apparitions of deceased persons at deathbeds that were perceived by multiple people.22 And Hart, in a 1933 study for the Society for Psychical Research, documented what he called "collectively and reciprocally perceived" visions and apparitions — cases where multiple people simultaneously perceived the same phenomenon.23
Dr. Melvin Morse, the pediatrician known for his pioneering research on children's NDEs, also documented shared experiences in the peer-reviewed journal Current Problems in Pediatrics.24 The fact that a pediatric journal published such material reflects the reality that these experiences are being taken seriously by medical professionals, not just by popular writers or those with a religious agenda.
Miller notes in his research that this growing body of evidence deserves our attention. He encourages readers to explore their own "circles of trust" — to ask trusted relatives and friends whether they have ever had such experiences. Miller suspects that if we did, we would discover that these phenomena are far more common than most people realize. Many who have experienced them have simply never told anyone, either because they feared being thought crazy or because they were never given an opportunity to share.25
Now that we have surveyed the evidence, let me spell out clearly why SDEs are so significant for our investigation. I believe there are three main reasons.
Reason #1: The Bystander's Brain Is Healthy. The entire architecture of the dying-brain hypothesis rests on the claim that NDEs are produced by physiological processes in a brain that is shutting down — oxygen deprivation, a surge of endorphins or DMT, random neural firing in the temporal lobe, or some combination of these. But in a shared-death experience, the bystander's brain is perfectly healthy. There is no oxygen deprivation. There are no unusual chemicals flooding the brain. There is no medical crisis. There is no abnormal brain activity of any kind. The bystander is a healthy person with a normally functioning brain. If the dying-brain hypothesis were correct, only the dying person should have these experiences. The healthy bystander should experience absolutely nothing beyond normal grief and sadness. The fact that healthy bystanders do experience the same phenomena — the light, the beings, the heavenly realm, the out-of-body state — eliminates the dying-brain explanation entirely.
I want to make sure this point is clear, because it is absolutely crucial. Every skeptical explanation for NDEs that has been proposed over the last fifty years — oxygen deprivation, carbon dioxide buildup, DMT release, temporal lobe seizures, endorphin floods, residual brain activity — applies only to the dying person. None of these explanations can account for a healthy bystander experiencing the same phenomena. If SDEs are real — and the weight of testimony from medical professionals, family members, and researchers across multiple countries suggests that they are — then the dying-brain hypothesis fails. Not just for this or that particular NDE. It fails in principle. Because if healthy brains can perceive the same spiritual realities that dying persons perceive, then those realities are not being generated by dying brains. They are being perceived by all brains — or rather, by conscious souls that can perceive spiritual realities under certain conditions, whether or not the brain is compromised.
Reason #2: What Is Happening at Death Is Objective. SDEs suggest that what happens at the moment of death is not a subjective, internal hallucination — it is an objective, external spiritual reality that can be perceived by more than one person at the same time. When five members of the Anderson family all see the same light, the same entranceway, and the same form of their mother rising from her body, something real is happening. This is consistent with the biblical worldview, which teaches that the spiritual realm is real and objective — not merely a projection of the individual mind. The Bible describes spiritual realities that are perceived by multiple people simultaneously. At the Transfiguration, Peter, James, and John all saw Jesus transfigured and spoke with Moses and Elijah (Matthew 17:1–8). When Elisha's servant's eyes were opened, he saw the angelic army surrounding the city (2 Kings 6:17). When Stephen was being stoned, he saw heaven opened and Jesus standing at the right hand of God (Acts 7:55–56). The Bible takes for granted that spiritual realities exist objectively and can sometimes be perceived by human beings. SDEs fit naturally within this framework.
Reason #3: Psychological Contagion and Grief Cannot Explain the Data. Some skeptics might try to explain SDEs as psychological contagion — the idea that being in an emotionally intense environment (a deathbed) can trigger unusual psychological experiences. Or they might suggest that grief causes hallucinations. But these explanations fail for several important reasons. (1) Many SDEs occur in bystanders who are not yet aware the person has died. Bucky Barrett did not know his father was in danger. He was asleep ninety miles away. Grief cannot cause a hallucination before the person knows there is anything to grieve about. (2) In many cases, the dying person is unconscious and has not communicated anything about their experience. The bystander has no information to "mimic" or be influenced by. There is no content to be psychologically contagious. (3) In cases where multiple bystanders independently report the same phenomena — seeing the same light, hearing the same music, sensing the same presence — the explanation of individual psychological response becomes very strained. Multiple people do not spontaneously hallucinate the same specific content at the same time.
Miller, in his careful assessment of shared-death experiences, gave them a 9 out of 10 for being better explained by the afterlife hypothesis than by any naturalistic explanation. His reasoning is worth quoting: the shared experience circumvents several possible objections to deathbed visions being genuine. Since they are experienced by healthy bystanders, they cannot be attributed to the dying brain. Since they come unexpectedly, they cannot be attributed to expectations. And since sometimes more than one person reports the same experience, they cannot easily be dismissed as hallucinations.26
I think Miller's assessment is exactly right. And I would add one more consideration: when you combine SDEs with the other evidence we have examined — veridical NDEs (Chapter 6), the Pam Reynolds case (Chapter 7), blind NDEs (Chapter 8), and children's NDEs (Chapter 9) — the cumulative case becomes extraordinarily strong. Each line of evidence independently undermines the dying-brain hypothesis. Together, they render it essentially untenable.
As a Christian investigator, I find it significant that the Bible contains several precedents for the kind of shared spiritual perception we see in SDEs. Let me walk you through the most important ones.
The prophet Elisha and his servant were in the city of Dothan, surrounded by the Syrian army. The servant was terrified. But Elisha said, "Do not be afraid, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them." Then Elisha prayed, "O LORD, please open his eyes that he may see." And the LORD opened the servant's eyes, and he saw — the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha (2 Kings 6:15–17, ESV).
Notice what happened. The spiritual reality — the angelic army — was already there. It was objectively present. But the servant could not perceive it until God "opened his eyes." This is precisely the pattern we see in shared-death experiences: the spiritual realm is real and objectively present at the moment of death, but most people cannot perceive it. In SDEs, it seems that the veil is momentarily thinned, and certain bystanders are given the ability to see what is normally invisible.
The Hebrew text uses the word paqach (פָּקַח), meaning to open the eyes — the same word used when blind Bartimaeus received his sight (in the LXX). The implication is that spiritual perception is not the creation of something new but the opening of a capacity that already exists but is normally dormant. We might say that in SDEs, God opens the spiritual eyes of certain bystanders, allowing them to perceive the reality of what is happening as their loved one transitions from this world to the next.
Jesus took Peter, James, and John up a high mountain. There He was transfigured before them — His face shone like the sun, and His garments became white as light. Moses and Elijah appeared and were talking with Jesus. A bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him" (Matthew 17:1–5, ESV).
Three people simultaneously perceived the same spiritual reality: the glorified Christ, the presence of Moses and Elijah, the bright cloud, and the divine voice. This was not a private vision experienced by one disciple — it was a shared spiritual experience perceived by three different people at the same time. The Transfiguration establishes the biblical principle that spiritual realities can be perceived by multiple people simultaneously. And while the Transfiguration was obviously a unique event involving the Son of God, the principle it illustrates — shared spiritual perception — is consistent with what we see in SDEs.
As Stephen was being stoned to death, he "gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. And he said, 'Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God'" (Acts 7:55–56, ESV).
Stephen was a dying man — not yet dead, but in the process of dying under the blows of the stones. And as he died, God opened his eyes to see the spiritual realm. While the text does not say that the bystanders saw what Stephen saw, it does say that they heard his proclamation and were affected by it. The episode shows that at the moment of death, spiritual perception can be heightened — which is consistent with both NDEs and SDEs.
It is also worth noting that several early manuscript traditions of the related account in Acts 9:7 and Acts 22:9 (Paul's Damascus road experience) describe the companions as perceiving aspects of the experience — seeing the light but not hearing the voice clearly, or hearing a sound but not understanding the words. This suggests a pattern of partial, shared spiritual perception — some bystanders perceive more than others, which is exactly what we see in SDEs, where different family members may perceive different elements (one sees the light, another hears the music, a third feels the peace).
When Rachel died in childbirth, the text says, "And as her soul was departing (for she was dying), she called his name Ben-oni; but his father called him Benjamin" (Genesis 35:18, ESV). The Hebrew phrase betsē't naphshah (בְּצֵ֣את נַפְשָׁ֔הּ) — literally "in the going out of her soul" — treats the departure of the soul from the body at death as a real event, not a metaphor. While this passage does not describe a shared-death experience, it provides the theological framework within which SDEs make sense: at death, the soul really does leave the body. And if the soul's departure is a real, objective event, then it is not surprising that bystanders might sometimes perceive it — especially if God opens their spiritual eyes, as He did for Elisha's servant.
The Biblical Pattern: The Bible teaches that (1) the spiritual realm is real and objective, not a projection of the individual mind; (2) spiritual realities can sometimes be perceived by multiple people simultaneously (the Transfiguration, Elisha's servant); (3) spiritual perception can be heightened at the moment of death (Stephen); and (4) the soul genuinely departs the body at death (Genesis 35:18; Ecclesiastes 12:7). Shared-death experiences fit naturally within this biblical framework. They are not identical to the biblical events, but they are consistent with the principles those events establish.
Beyond their evidential value for the debate over the dying-brain hypothesis, shared-death experiences carry significant theological implications that we should consider carefully.
If the dying person's soul is genuinely departing the body and traveling to a spiritual realm — as the Bible teaches (2 Corinthians 5:6–8; Philippians 1:21–23; Luke 23:43) — then it makes sense that those who are emotionally and spiritually connected to the dying person might sometimes perceive aspects of this transition. The SDE is, in effect, a window into the intermediate state — that conscious, blessed realm where the righteous dead are with Christ, as we explore in detail in Chapter 20. The bystander is catching a momentary glimpse of where their loved one is going.
As we discussed in Chapter 5, the Bible teaches that the soul survives bodily death and enters a conscious intermediate state — Paradise for the righteous (Luke 23:43), Hades for the unrighteous (Luke 16:22–26). SDEs provide empirical evidence that something genuinely happens at the moment of death — a real transition, a real departure, a real journey. This is consistent with the biblical picture and inconsistent with physicalism, which holds that consciousness is entirely generated by the brain and ceases at death. If physicalism were true, there would be nothing for the bystander to perceive. The fact that bystanders perceive something — light, beings, the soul departing — suggests that the biblical picture is closer to the truth.
Shared-death experiences provide yet another line of evidence supporting the substance dualist view of human nature — the view that a human being is composed of two distinct substances: a material body and an immaterial soul (as argued comprehensively in Chapter 5). If the soul were not a real, distinct entity that can separate from the body at death, then what are bystanders seeing when they report witnessing the soul leave the body? If there is no soul — if human consciousness is nothing but brain chemistry — then the Anderson family could not have seen their mother's form rise from her body and enter an entranceway of light. There would be nothing to see. The fact that they saw it — and that all five of them saw it independently — is strong evidence that the soul is real, that it genuinely separates from the body at death, and that this separation can sometimes be perceived by others.
This has direct implications for the debate within Christian theology between dualism and physicalism. As we will explore in Chapter 35, some contemporary theologians and philosophers — including some within the conditional immortality movement — have argued for forms of Christian physicalism, holding that human beings are purely physical organisms with no immaterial soul. SDEs pose a serious problem for this view. If the physicalists are right, then there is nothing that leaves the body at death — and yet bystanders report seeing exactly that. The SDE evidence is one more piece of the cumulative case that substance dualism is true and that physicalism — whether secular or Christian — is false.
Consider the implications more carefully. The Christian physicalist typically argues that at death, the whole person ceases to exist — there is no soul that survives — and that the person's continued existence depends entirely on God's act of re-creation at the final resurrection. On this view, death is an extinction, and resurrection is a new creation. But if bystanders are witnessing the soul departing the body — if they are seeing a luminous form rise from the corpse and enter a spiritual realm — then the physicalist account of death is simply wrong. Something does survive. Something does depart. And that something is the immaterial soul that Scripture teaches was breathed into us by God at creation (Genesis 2:7).
As John Cooper argues in Body, Soul, and Life Everlasting, the biblical evidence for the conscious intermediate state necessarily implies some form of anthropological dualism. If the dead are conscious and active between death and resurrection — as passages like Luke 23:43, Philippians 1:21–23, 2 Corinthians 5:6–8, and Revelation 6:9–11 clearly teach — then there must be something that survives death and carries that consciousness. That something is the soul. And SDEs give us empirical evidence of the soul's departure that confirms what Scripture teaches.29
I do not want to discuss SDEs only as evidence in an intellectual debate. These are real experiences involving real people who are losing someone they love. And one of the most beautiful aspects of SDEs is the comfort they provide to the bereaved.
Knowing that the dying person's journey is real — that they are genuinely being received into a realm of light and love — can be profoundly reassuring to grieving family members. The Anderson family did not just watch their mother die. They watched her enter into joy. They saw the entranceway. They felt the peace. Their grief was not eliminated — they still lost their mother — but it was transformed by the knowledge that her departure was a real arrival somewhere else. Somewhere beautiful. Somewhere filled with joy.
The apostle Paul wrote to the Thessalonians: "But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep" (1 Thessalonians 4:13–14, ESV). Paul did not say we should not grieve. He said we should not grieve without hope. Shared-death experiences give us concrete, experiential reasons to ground that hope. The dying person is not being annihilated. They are not simply ceasing to exist. They are making a journey — and sometimes God allows us to see just enough of that journey to know that it is real, and that it ends in light.
No presentation of evidence is complete without addressing the strongest objections. Let me take the most common ones in turn.
This is probably the most natural objection. The death of a loved one is one of the most emotionally intense experiences a person can have. Isn't it possible that the intense emotion of the deathbed triggers unusual psychological experiences — visions, sensations, perceptions — that feel real but are actually hallucinations?
This objection has some initial plausibility, but it fails for several reasons.
First, as we have already noted, many SDEs occur in bystanders who are not yet aware the person has died. Bucky Barrett was asleep in his own home, ninety miles away, with no knowledge that his father was in danger. The Fenwicks documented numerous cases of family members who experienced phenomena at the moment of their loved one's death, before they received the phone call informing them of the death. Grief cannot cause a hallucination before the person knows there is anything to grieve about. If I do not know that my mother has died, I cannot be hallucinating because of my grief over her death.
Second, as Miller notes in his assessment, SDEs are often unexpected. The bystanders were not anticipating anything supernatural. The Anderson family had gathered to say goodbye and was emotionally calm. They were not in a state of emotional agitation that might trigger unusual perceptions. The experience came as a complete surprise.27
Third, the content of SDEs is specific, consistent, and matches what the dying person is presumably experiencing — light, beings, heavenly realms, the soul departing. Grief hallucinations, by contrast, tend to be variable, disorganized, and personally idiosyncratic. A grief hallucination might involve hearing the deceased's voice or briefly seeing their face. It would not typically involve seeing an entranceway of light, watching the person's form rise from the body, and feeling transported to a heavenly realm — especially not when multiple bystanders experience the same thing.
Another objection is that SDEs are a form of psychological contagion — the bystander unconsciously mimics or absorbs the dying person's reported experience. Perhaps the dying person says, "I see a light," and the bystander's mind, in the heightened emotional state of the deathbed, constructs a corresponding visual experience.
This objection fails because in many cases, the dying person is unconscious, comatose, or otherwise unable to communicate. They have not said anything about seeing a light or encountering spiritual beings. The bystander has no information to "mimic." There is no content to be contagious. And yet the bystander experiences the phenomena anyway.
In the Anderson family case, the mother had not spoken for hours and was breathing irregularly. She was not describing her experience to her children. They had no information about what she might be seeing or experiencing. Yet they all saw the light and the entranceway independently.
Could the deathbed environment — the emotional intensity, the flickering lights of a hospital room, the presence of grieving relatives — create a kind of group suggestibility where people collectively perceive things that are not there?
This objection is worth taking seriously, but it has significant weaknesses. First, genuine mass hysteria is a recognized but quite specific phenomenon in psychology. It typically requires a sustained period of social influence, shared beliefs, and escalating anxiety. It does not typically produce detailed, specific, content-identical perceptions in multiple people simultaneously without any discussion or suggestion. The Anderson family saw the same light at the same moment without anyone saying, "Look at the light!" They noticed each other's reactions — the sister's wide eyes, the brother's gasp — and realized they were all seeing it.28
Second, group suggestion cannot explain the at-a-distance cases, where the bystander is miles away and completely alone. Bucky Barrett was not in a group. He was asleep in his own bed. There was no group to suggest anything to him.
Third, the camera case reported by Moore — where hospital staff observed figures on the telemetry monitor — introduces an element that is independent of the emotional dynamics of the deathbed. The staff were watching a monitor, not standing at the bedside. Their observation was mediated through technology, not through direct emotional presence.
This is a fair objection that deserves a fair response. It is true that most SDE evidence comes in the form of personal testimony — anecdotes, case reports, interview data — rather than controlled laboratory experiments. There is no randomized controlled trial of shared-death experiences. You cannot design an experiment in which you assign some people to have SDEs and others to serve as controls.
But this limitation applies to all death-related experience research, not just SDEs. We cannot create death on demand in a laboratory. We cannot predict when someone will die, who will be present, and whether any bystanders will have unusual experiences. The very nature of the subject makes controlled experiments virtually impossible.
What we can do — and what Moody, Peters, the Fenwicks, Miller, and others have done — is systematically collect, categorize, and analyze the testimony. We can look for patterns. We can compare cases from different countries, different cultures, different time periods. We can check whether the cases are internally consistent and whether they align with other lines of evidence (NDEs, DBEs, terminal lucidity). And when we do all of this, we find that the SDE testimony is remarkably consistent, cross-culturally robust, and convergent with the broader body of evidence for the afterlife.
Moreover, in the scholarly literature, the evidence has been published in peer-reviewed journals — Howarth and Kellehear in the Journal of Near-Death Studies, Fenwick and Brayne in the American Journal of Hospice and Palliative Medicine, Morse in Current Problems in Pediatrics. These are not fringe publications. They are respected academic venues. The fact that medical professionals and scholars have found the SDE evidence credible enough to publish in peer-reviewed journals should give the "just anecdotes" objection some pause.
Some Christians may wonder whether shared-death experiences could be demonic deception. After all, the Bible warns that Satan disguises himself as an angel of light (2 Corinthians 11:14). Could the light, the beings, and the heavenly visions that bystanders perceive be part of a demonic scheme to lead people away from the truth?
This is a concern I take seriously, and we will address the question of demonic hijacking of NDEs extensively in Chapter 25. But let me offer a few preliminary observations here.
First, the fruit of SDEs is overwhelmingly positive. Bystanders who experience SDEs consistently report increased faith, decreased fear of death, greater love for others, and a deepened sense of God's reality. As Jesus taught, "You will recognize them by their fruits" (Matthew 7:16, ESV). Good trees produce good fruit. Demonic deception, by contrast, typically produces confusion, fear, theological error, or moral decline. SDEs produce none of these.
Second, the content of SDEs is consistent with biblical teaching. Light, peace, joy, the presence of spiritual beings, the soul departing the body — these are all elements that Scripture associates with the righteous dead being received into God's presence. There is nothing in the typical SDE that contradicts the Bible. When the Anderson family saw their mother's soul enter an entranceway of light accompanied by feelings of complete joy, what they witnessed was consistent with — not contrary to — what Scripture teaches about death and the afterlife.
Third, the blanket suspicion that any spiritual experience at the moment of death must be demonic raises a serious theological problem. If God is real, and if He genuinely cares for the dying and the bereaved (and Scripture repeatedly assures us that He does), then why would we assume that He would not occasionally allow the living to perceive the reality of what He is doing at the moment of death? The Bible shows God opening the eyes of Elisha's servant to see the angelic army. Is it so strange that He might open the eyes of a grieving family to see their mother entering His presence? A God who cares for the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18) and who collects our tears (Psalm 56:8) is exactly the kind of God who might give such a gift to the grieving.
That said, I want to be clear: not every spiritual experience should be accepted uncritically. Discernment is always necessary. But the default posture should not be suspicion. When the fruit is good, when the content is biblical, and when the experience draws people closer to God rather than away from Him, we have strong reasons to receive it as genuine — not as demonic.
As I mentioned earlier, shared-death experiences do not stand alone. They are one piece of a much larger puzzle. Let me briefly situate them within the cumulative case we are building throughout this book.
In Chapter 6, we examined veridical NDEs — cases where patients reported accurate information they could not have known through normal sensory channels. This evidence shows that consciousness can perceive the world accurately while the brain is not functioning.
In Chapter 7, we examined the case of Pam Reynolds, whose consciousness functioned during a procedure designed to eliminate all measurable brain activity. This shows that consciousness does not require measurable brain activity.
In Chapter 8, we examined blind NDEs, where people born without sight reported visual perceptions during their experiences. This shows that consciousness can perceive without the physical sense organs — the brain literally lacks the hardware for visual experience, yet visual experience occurs.
In Chapter 9, we examined children's NDEs, which undermine the claim that NDE content is shaped by cultural expectations. This shows that the consistency of NDE reports is not due to cultural conditioning.
And now, in this chapter, we have examined shared-death experiences, which show that the phenomena of the dying process can be perceived by people whose brains are perfectly healthy. This eliminates the dying-brain hypothesis entirely.
Each of these lines of evidence is significant on its own. But when you stack them together, the cumulative weight becomes overwhelming. Consciousness operates independently of the brain. It does not require measurable brain activity. It does not require physical sense organs. It is not culturally conditioned. And the spiritual realities it perceives at death are not subjective hallucinations — they are objective realities that can be perceived by multiple people.
This is exactly what substance dualism predicts. If human beings are composed of a material body and an immaterial soul — and if the soul can function independently of the body — then we would expect exactly the evidence we find. We would expect consciousness during cardiac arrest. We would expect perception without functioning sense organs. We would expect the consistency of reports across cultures. And we would expect that when the soul departs the body at death, the departure would sometimes be visible to others.
And as we will explore in Chapter 35, this cumulative evidence constitutes a powerful empirical case for dualism and against physicalism — the philosophical view that human beings are nothing but their physical bodies and that consciousness is nothing but brain chemistry.
Before we close this chapter, I want to speak directly to any reader who has experienced something like what we have described here. Perhaps you were at the bedside of a dying parent, spouse, child, or friend, and something happened that you have never been able to explain. You saw a light. You felt a presence. You had a sense of peace that was completely out of proportion to the grief of the moment. You saw something leave the body. You heard music.
And perhaps you have never told anyone, because you were afraid they would think you were crazy. Or perhaps you told someone and they dismissed your experience as grief, stress, or imagination.
I want you to know that you are not crazy. What you experienced is consistent with a large and growing body of documented cases from around the world. It is consistent with the testimony of medical professionals, researchers, and scholars. And most importantly, it is consistent with what the Bible teaches about the reality of the spiritual realm and the soul's journey at death.
You did not hallucinate. You were given a gift — a momentary glimpse of the reality that your loved one was entering. As Elisha said to his terrified servant, "Do not be afraid, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them" (2 Kings 6:16, ESV). The spiritual realm is real. The journey your loved one made was real. And the destination — for those who are in Christ — is a place of indescribable light, love, and joy.
Shared-death experiences are, in my judgment, among the most powerful categories of evidence in the entire NDE field. They take the dying-brain hypothesis — the most common skeptical explanation for NDEs — and eliminate it with surgical precision. If healthy bystanders can perceive the same spiritual realities that dying persons perceive, then those realities are not being generated by dying brains. They exist independently of the brain. They are objective. They are real.
The evidence from Moody's pioneering research, Peters's Shared Crossing Project, the Fenwicks' UK studies, Miller's carefully documented cases, Tabatt's personal accounts, and the peer-reviewed literature all point in the same direction: at the moment of death, something real happens. The soul departs the body. It enters a realm of light. It is received by spiritual beings. And sometimes — by the grace of God — the living are allowed to see it.
This is not a new discovery. The Bible has taught it for thousands of years. God opened the eyes of Elisha's servant, and he saw the angelic army. God opened the eyes of Peter, James, and John, and they saw the glorified Christ. God opened the eyes of Stephen, and he saw heaven itself. And God, it seems, continues to open the eyes of those who are present at the threshold between this world and the next — allowing them to catch a fleeting, unforgettable glimpse of the reality that awaits us all.
As we will see in the next chapter, the out-of-body experience — the most commonly reported feature of NDEs — provides yet another bridge between the biblical teaching on the soul and the empirical evidence from NDE research. But even before we get there, the shared-death experience has already done something remarkable: it has shown us that the dying-brain hypothesis cannot account for the full range of evidence. Something more is happening at death than brain chemistry. And that something more is exactly what the Bible has been telling us all along.
1 Raymond A. Moody with Paul Perry, Glimpses of Eternity: Sharing a Loved One's Passage from This Life to the Next (New York: Guideposts, 2010); Raymond A. Moody with Paul Perry, Proof of Life After Life: 7 Reasons to Believe There Is an Afterlife (New York: Atria Books, 2023). ↩
2 Moody, as quoted in Shaun Tabatt, The NDE Conspiracy, chap. 3, "What Is a Shared-Death Experience?" Moody writes: "A shared death experience can consist of some of the same elements that we use to define a near-death experience. But the difference is that the person to whom the experience occurs is not themselves near death." ↩
3 Moody with Perry, Glimpses of Eternity, 13–14; also reported in J. Steve Miller, Deathbed Experiences as Evidence for the Afterlife, vol. 1 (Acworth, GA: Wisdom Creek Press, 2021), chap. 4, "If DBEs Can Be Fully Attributed to Physical Characteristics of the Dying Brain, Then How Do We Explain Deathbed Phenomena Being Shared at the Bedside by the Living Who Have Healthy Brains?" ↩
4 Moody with Perry, Glimpses of Eternity, 13–14. ↩
5 Moody with Perry, Glimpses of Eternity, 14. ↩
6 Linda H. Moore, Perceptions of Nursing Faculty toward Near-Death Experiences and Death Bed Visions, PhD dissertation (Texas A&M University – Corpus Christi, 2010), 112. Also cited in J. Steve Miller, Deathbed Experiences as Evidence for the Afterlife, vol. 1, chap. 4; and J. Steve Miller, Deathbed Experiences (PhD dissertation), p. 201. ↩
7 J. Steve Miller, Is Christianity Compatible with Deathbed and Near-Death Experiences? The Surprising Presence of Jesus, Scarcity of Anti-Christian Elements, and Compatibility with Historic Christian Teachings (Acworth, GA: Wisdom Creek Press, 2024), Introduction, "Bucky." ↩
8 Miller, Is Christianity Compatible?, Introduction, "Bucky"; also Miller, Deathbed Experiences as Evidence for the Afterlife, vol. 1, chap. 4, "Exploring Circles of Trust." ↩
9 Miller, Is Christianity Compatible?, Introduction, "Bucky." ↩
10 Miller, Is Christianity Compatible?, Introduction, "Bucky." ↩
11 Shaun Tabatt, The NDE Conspiracy (Shippensburg, PA: Destiny Image, 2025), chap. 3, "What Is a Shared-Death Experience?" subheading "1. The Train to Heaven." ↩
12 Tabatt, The NDE Conspiracy, chap. 3, "1. The Train to Heaven." ↩
13 Tabatt, The NDE Conspiracy, chap. 3, "2. Mama, Mama." ↩
14 Tabatt, The NDE Conspiracy, chap. 3, "2. Mama, Mama." ↩
15 Tabatt, The NDE Conspiracy, chap. 3, "2. Mama, Mama." ↩
16 William Peters founded the Shared Crossing Project (sharedcrossing.com) to systematically research and document shared-death experiences. Peters has collected hundreds of cases and published his findings in William Peters, At Heaven's Door: What Shared Journeys to the Afterlife Teach about Dying Well and Living Better (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2022). ↩
17 Peters, At Heaven's Door. On the impossibility of simultaneous content-identical hallucinations among healthy individuals, see also the discussion in Moody with Perry, Glimpses of Eternity, 139–155. ↩
18 Peter Fenwick and Elizabeth Fenwick, The Art of Dying (London: Continuum, 2008). ↩
19 Peter Fenwick and Sue Brayne, "End-of-Life Experiences: Reaching Out for Compassion, Communication, and Connection — Meaning of Deathbed Visions and Coincidences," American Journal of Hospice and Palliative Medicine 28, no. 1 (2011): 7–15, especially p. 10. ↩
20 Bill Guggenheim and Judy Guggenheim, Hello From Heaven! (New York: Bantam, 1995), 243–258. ↩
21 G. Howarth and A. Kellehear, "Shared Near-Death and Related Illness Experiences," Journal of Near-Death Studies 20 (2001): 71–85. ↩
22 E. Bozzano, "Apparitions of Deceased Persons at Deathbeds," Annals of Psychic Science 3 (1906): 67–100. ↩
23 H. Hart, "Visions and Apparitions Collectively and Reciprocally Perceived," Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research 50 (1933): 153–239. ↩
24 M. L. Morse, "Near-Death Experiences and Death-Related Visions in Children: Implications for the Clinician," Current Problems in Pediatrics 24, no. 2 (1994): 55–83, especially 72–73. ↩
25 Miller, Deathbed Experiences as Evidence for the Afterlife, vol. 1, chap. 4, "Exploring Circles of Trust." Miller also discusses this in Faith That's Not Blind (Acworth, GA: Wisdom Creek Academic, 2016), 25–26. ↩
26 J. Steve Miller, Deathbed Experiences (PhD dissertation, Columbia International University), p. 204. Miller's exact assessment: "The shared experience seems to circumvent several possible objections to DBEs being veridical. First, since they are experienced by healthy bystanders, they cannot be attributed to the dying brain. Second, since they come unexpected, they cannot be attributed to expectations. Third, they cannot easily be explained away as hallucinations, since sometimes more than one person reports the same experience. We give this experience a 9 out of 10 for being better explained by the afterlife hypothesis." ↩
27 Miller, Deathbed Experiences (PhD dissertation), p. 204. ↩
28 Moody with Perry, Glimpses of Eternity, 13–14. ↩
29 John W. Cooper, Body, Soul, and Life Everlasting: Biblical Anthropology and the Monism-Dualism Debate (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), 159–164. Cooper argues that the intermediate state necessarily entails dualism: "Not everyone who holds the traditional view of the afterlife is willing to admit being a dualist. I can recall sermons, college lectures, and theological debates in which speakers confidently affirmed the hope of being with Christ between death and resurrection. A paragraph later, however, they roundly denounced the body-soul distinction." Cooper demonstrates that this position is logically incoherent — if the dead are conscious, something non-physical must survive death. ↩