What is the Value of a Life?

What is the value of a human life? And not just at the beginning of life, but towards the end? Do we still have value when our bodies and minds fail? 

My mother died recently, at the age of (almost) 96. She developed dementia towards the end of her life and, as a result, could be a challenge at times to deal with. I spent that last year of her life flying back and forth to check on her, providing nourishing food, visiting with her, and taking her to doctor appointments.  

Her dementia came on gradually, so it took me a while to realize that she even had it. She started remembering things that had never happened and forgetting things that she had always known. She would get easily confused watching TV shows, and even stopped reading, despite having always had a sharp mind and the ability to think circles around most people. Then she started forgetting to eat, so at that point, we had to start looking for caretakers.

But in the midst of this process, I could still call her on the phone, tell her about a problem or situation with someone in the family, and ask her to pray, and she would instantly agree. And as time went on and her confusion got worse, she still would have moments of lucidity. She still loved to give, and her clearest moments often came when someone needed her most. But as time progressed, she became less rational and needed more care. But as the quality of her life decreased, did her value also decrease?

How does God think about human life? 

Christianity teaches that human life has intrinsic worth—value for its own sake—and not for pragmatic reasons. Scripture affirms that every person has dignity because he is made in the image of God and has a soul that will never die (Gen. 1:26-27; 2:7; Eccl. 12:7). This is evident by God’s own loving regard for each person, regardless of size or capability (Mt. 19:14; 20:29-34; John 3:16). 

That perspective on human life is important, because there is a new push to normalize and legalize assisted suicide around the United States. 

Perhaps that’s an unsurprising move for a society where people increasingly don’t believe in God or follow his laws. But it’s alarming and troubling that Christians are beginning to approve assisted suicide.[1]

The prevailing sentiment is that there comes a point when a person’s suffering is so extreme or their infirmity is so advanced that death becomes a fitting treatment. When life seems meaningless—even cruel—and death seems inevitable, some think it okay to hasten the dying process.

But is that okay? How should Christians care for the elderly during the end-of-life process? Is there any virtue in caring for someone at the end of life—someone who can no longer respond, or perhaps responds, but in strange or negative ways?

Cultivating Virtue in End-of-Life Care

The cardinal transcendental virtues of truth, beauty, and goodness are either demonstrated or trampled underfoot by the attitude our society has towards its treatment of the elderly. The truth is that all human life has value, including the lives of the elderly and those struggling with life’s most basic functions and requiring constant care. 

And the truth is also that if we don’t love, we don’t know God, for God is love (1 John 4:8). Elderly people with dementia or people with severe handicaps are not always able to return our love, but our responsibility is to love and care for them. As we do, even if only in small ways, our souls are affected by them, and we grow in virtue. 

As I reflect on the time I spent with my mother towards the end of her life, I cannot tell how my own soul was affected. I know that I was quite frustrated at times, because my mother was totally inconsistent in her behavior. At times, she was immensely appreciative of my efforts to make her a home-cooked meal or even a fresh cup of coffee; at other times, she made it clear that I was “taking over” and was not welcome. But she maintained a sense of humor almost to the end, and she was even able to stay in her own home without requiring extreme care. 

Then she had a brain bleed (a hemorrhagic stroke) and lay in a coma for several days before she died. She could not speak or respond in any way. And yet, when I arrived the next day—a Tuesday—I spoke to her as she lay unresponsive in a hospital bed, seemingly unable to hear me. My sister and I instructed her to wait until Saturday to die, as Saturday was our dad’s (and her beloved husband’s) birthday.

Meanwhile, I played prayers and songs on my phone whenever I was sitting by her bed, to pass the days until Saturday. Every now and then I would remind her to wait. Anytime I tried to leave—to run an errand or even to sleep—the nurses would tell me they did not think she would last until I returned. But finally, when Friday rolled around, they decided that maybe I was right, and she was waiting for my dad’s birthday to go.

In God’s Time, Not Mine

Some would have wanted to hasten her death. After all, what kind of meaning did her life have at this point? 

A number of years ago, when I was wondering about the ethics of abortion, I read part of a transcript of a court case involving the fate of frozen embryos. One of the witnesses, a French geneticist, said something that struck me. Regarding the frozen human embryos, he said that what they are, we all once were.[2] At one time, each of us was in fact a fertilized egg—a zygote—containing all the genetic material required for our fully developed adult bodies. We are the same person today that we were as an early human being.

That same thought process can be applied to the elderly. What they are (no matter how infirm) we all may one day be, if we live long enough. They are the same person they once were, and we are the same person today that we will one day be. Though we change in all kinds of ways, our intrinsic value remains incalculable by virtue of the fact that we bear the image of God. 

How we live now matters forever. Do we really know what is going on in the soul of an elderly person who has dementia, or someone who is in a coma and cannot respond? Only God knows, and it is God’s place alone to decide when we die. If we choose to hasten death, are we really putting that person out of their misery? Or, as fellow creatures who cannot see past death, are we rather putting our own souls in jeopardy?  

On Friday, my brothers arrived around midnight. I told them I thought our mother was waiting on them, as well as for our dad’s birthday. At 8:00 Saturday morning, on my dad’s birthday, my mother stopped breathing, and her soul left her body. It was God’s time, and I was blessed to be there. 

Jesus admonished, “Whatever you have done to one of the least of these… you have done it also unto me” (Mt. 25:40). Who are the least in our society? Among them are those at the beginning and at the end of life. Who are more helpless than unborn babies and the elderly?

Two cultures stand before us—one, a culture based on death and fear; the other, a culture focused on grace and faith, hope, and love. The first may result in personal pleasure and affluence; the second may be more difficult to achieve and may require personal hardship. But which culture do we want to leave to our children and grandchildren? What kind of legacy do we want to leave? 

In every elderly person’s face, we should see the face of Jesus. The soul of our culture is at stake.

Notes and Works Cited:

[1] Ryan Burge, “God, Death, and the Right to Choose: A Religious Divide on Assisted Suicide,” Graphs About Religion, April 16, 2026, https://www.graphsaboutreligion.com/p/god-death-and-the-right-to-choose.

[2] Attributed to Jérôme Lejeune.