Seminar Leaders
Friederike Hamilton is a Queen’s Nurse who leads the development of care and dementia care for the Pilgrims’ Friend Society, a Christian charity that provides care and support for 600 older people across the UK.
Stephen Hammersley is the Chair of Faith in Later Life, a charity set up to inspire and equip Christians to reach, serve and empower older people in every community, through the local Church. His day job is to head up the work of the Pilgrims’ Friend Society
Saturday, 3 February 2024
9:45am – 1:00pm
Enfield Town Community Church, 79 Cecil Road, Enfield, Middlesex EN2 6TJ
Email for further information or call them on 020 8363 3354.
If you’re able to get to this event in Enfield, Enfield Town Community Church will be delighted to welcome you
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When Jesus said that the second most important commandment was to love your neighbour as yourself, He made it clear that your neighbour is whoever life brings alongside you (Luke 10: 25-37). The two people involved in the story told in Luke’s gospel had never met before and had only a brief relationship, yet it was life changing for the injured one and a great blessing for the other (Acts 20:35).Unlike my church’s neighbourhood outreach, it was a deeply personal interaction.
When it comes to loving a ‘neighbour’ who is coping with dementia, it’s most effective when it comes from a personal, as well as a collective approach. An example is Irene, (81) who I chatted with during the Covid-19 lock-down. She was the sole carer for her husband Douglas, (85). The thing she missed most was having someone from church sit with her husband so she could catch the bus into town where she’d visit the shops and stop for a coffee. Family caregivers can be very protective, and it was fortunate that having been part of the church fellowship for years everyone knew each other, so Douglas was comfortable with the person who came to keep him company. That stopped with lock-down, but Ruth, the closest friend from church stayed connected by passing her house when she went for a walk, and knocking on the sitting room window. Irene would look out and see Ruth, then go to the front door where would have a conversation standing six feet away from each other. As well as a break from isolation, Ruth would bring encouragement and spiritual support.
Most caregivers miss the ordinary, normal, everyday routines. One wife told me that she liked to do the ironing when the carer came to help her husband. For her, producing a pile of freshly ironed clothes was satisfying, soothing, and normal.
‘Doing normal’ is what my friend Rose and I do when her husband Peter (names changed) goes to the Dementia Day Centre. Rose’s health has plummeted in the four years since his diagnosis, and she now has spinal stenosis and a heart pacemaker. Once in town we go first to the Post Office where she hands in her mail order Returns, then we visit shops in the High Street, (especially those with ‘Sale’ signs) and have lunch in the Garden Centre. All the while we talk about life, reflexively for both of us within a Christian context. Rose used to be a teacher and I’ve shown her how not to correct Peter when he gets it wrong, but deflect him to something positive. For instance, when he told the family that tennis star Emma Raducanu had come to visit him in Wales after her first major loss and how he had encouraged her, Rose didn’t point out that Emma hadn’t visited but told Peter that he had always been an encourager and what a blessing that was! We’ve had many talks about residential care, something that Rose wants to avoid. She says that every morning she asks the Lord if He would bring them Home together, and thanks Him for the strength He gives her. The harder life becomes the closer Heaven comes to Rose.
Sadly, although Peter is a retired pastor and church elder, they seem to have dropped off their church radar and only have an occasional visit from a member. But God hasn’t forgotten them: their neighbours in their upmarket apartments help in dozens of ways. The mail is dropped at their door on the second floor; Rose has telephone numbers to call should they need help, and during this year’s scorching summer they were given so many bottles of water that Rose had to stack them on their shady balcony. Without knowing the Scripture, the neighbours are fulfilling it.
When it comes to loving your ‘neighbour’ with dementia, the greatest helps are listening, assuring her (or him) that they are doing a great job of caring, being pro-active with offers of help (‘I’m going into town do you need anything?’) sitting with the person with dementia if possible to give the caregiver a break, providing a touch of normality, making sure she has your telephone number, and above all, bringing Eternity into the conversation. Christians with dementia can ‘come alive’ with spiritual support. Peter beams when they sing the old hymns in, ‘Worshipping with Dementia’.
Church support makes so much difference. Collaborating with others I’ve written a booklet called, ‘Dementia Inclusive Church,’ that describes what fellowships can do to become a little more than ‘friendly.’ It’s available here.
You’ll also find further helpful Dementia resources in the Faith in Later Life Resource Hub.
Louise Morse is a friend to Faith in Later Life, and an experienced cognitive behavioural therapist with expertise on issues facing older people, including dementia. To find out more about ‘deflecting not correcting’ please see our short interview with Louise here.
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Here are a few takeaways from Louise’s talk:
Firstly, Louise defined dementia broadly as the symptoms a person experiences when his or her brain undergoes neurological damage. Although dementia is the name for the symptoms, it’s interchangeable and therefore may be called other names too. Louise reminded us that although we often when we talk about dementia we have the cause in mind, but really it’s the symptoms. It’s the way people behave.
The difficult part is that we still don’t fully understand the all of the causes of Dementia but the good news is that research scientists have been able to show how lifestyle changes can avoid around 40 percent of cases. In fact, now that this advice has been out there a few years now, dementia is actually declining. There has been a 13 percent reduction per decade in new cases for the past few decades in the Western World, in high-income countries. According to a report by Harvard University and others, if the decline rate remains steady, there will be 15 million fewer cases of dementia in the coming years.
A Christian Perspective on Dementia Care
In Matthew 25:40, Jesus reveals, “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’” (NIV)
Louise wanted to stress that dementia caregivers and people who support them should know how important their work is; that in fact everything they do for a person a person suffering from dementia, who now may seem to be the least, is touching Jesus himself as well. In addition, as Christians we ought also to look at each and every person and see the image of God within. “We’re not robots, we’re not mechanical, we’re much more than the sum of our parts.” Louise said.
In C.S. Lewis’s book “The Dawn Treader,” a boy named Eustace comes across a man named Ramandu who just happens to be a retired Star.
“In our world,” said Eustace, “a star is a huge ball of flaming gas.”
“Even in your world, my son, that is not what a star is but only what it is made of.
In the western world we might often be tempted to adopt the ageism of our time, we need to remember, like Eustace, that people are worth far more than their function, their use, their job, or their mental capacity. In the book of Ezekiel, we read about the temple, the outer walls, “which is like the body that you and I see” Louise said. “We see each other but we don’t really see each other, we just see our outer walls. Then, you have three entrances into the temple. You could say eyes, nose, mouth. The outer court is our gathering place. It’s where all the information comes in that we take in and then we drill that down and discard some and it goes through another door into the inner court. The inner court is where we process that information. And it’s where our emotions are and where we make decisions. It’s where we weigh up values, all the things that make us human.”
“…And then we have the priest’s chambers. That is the innermost court. In Hebrew, that’s the Kodesh Hakodashim, the holy of holies. That represents the spirit of the human being, which is alive from conception and is eternal. This is where we have our humanity, our spirit, it’s our real essence. It’s that which is alive and will live forever. And it’s where God communicates with us, in this priest’s chambers. When that flame was lit.”
When we’re talking about people with dementia, we are talking about people who have had damage to their brains. Their outer courts and their inner courts, particularly, have been damaged and they’ve been reduced. The brain is changing, neurological structures are disappearing, and yet, here we have, right in the heart of them, this priest’s chambers. It’s the spirit, it’s the human. It’s the person, It’s the ‘he’ or ‘she’ that can still receive and give love. It’s the ‘he’ or ‘she’ that can still respond to emotional environments. It’s the person that’s still a unique individual.
Importance of Person-Centered Care in Dementia
This is why person-centred care is so important. It’s recognising the person behind the dementia, recognising the human spirit, that they are still there. When we’re caring for someone with dementia, we’re looking at that damage, we’re acknowledging it, but we’re not stopping there. We’re moving on and seeing the person for who they really are, their true self. The person within. When we interact with someone with dementia, we need to see more than their cognitive impairment. Look for their spirit, their love, their feelings, their joys, their fears. They are more than their dementia, they are human beings with lives to live and stories to tell.
The Role of Caregivers and Supporters
And as caregivers, supporters, friend, and churches, it’s our role to help people with dementia live those lives and tell those stories, even if they can’t articulate them in the same way anymore. It’s our role to step into their world and see things from their perspective, to validate their experiences and emotions.
Conclusion
Remember that whatever you do for one of the least, you do for Jesus. So every act of love, every moment of understanding, every time we hold a hand or wipe a tear, we’re not just caring for a person with dementia. We are, in a very real sense, touching the heart of Jesus.
Thanks so much again to Louise for coming to speak with us.
Grace and Peace
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1. Treat the person with respect and dignity
Be positive and encouraging; make the individual feel included and valued.
2. Be a Good Listener
It is important to be a good listener to the person and their family. Often, people just need a chance to share what they are experiencing, their fears, and their feelings. Someone with Dementia may need more time to answer questions or say what they mean to say.
3. Communicate Well
Do your best to be clear and calm. Ask questions clearly and simply to convey warmth and understanding. Even if you don’t understand what is being said, try not to get irritated or stressed.
4. Remember the Little Things
Show that you care and they count. Don’t avoid or exclude the person with Dementia, but reassure, encourage, and include them.
5. Stay in Touch
Hearing from someone briefly, even if it’s just a five minute phonecall, helps a person with Dementia and their family to feel less isolated or less like they have been forgotten. So, do your best to stay in touch because it can make all the difference!
6. Offer Practical Help
Sometimes, it’s the little things that make all the difference for someone living with Dementia. Supporting the person with independence by offering practical help in the form of transport, housework, shopping, gardening, or chores is often greatly appreciated. Try to offer help with practical tasks but in a sensitive way (maybe asking to undertake a task jointly with them so they aren’t made to feel incapable).
7. Organise a Treat
We are all different and so organising a treat is something very person-specific. Some treats do not need to cost a lot or even take up a lot of your time; for example: bringing around afternoon tea, flowers, or a nice meal. Try to think of some way you could brighten up their day with something special.
8. Help Family Members
Supporting those living with and caring for the person with Dementia is just as important as caring for the individual themselves. Often, family members need practical help, emotional support, and regular breaks from being a carer. So, do what you can to offer support to family members in ways that bless them.
9. Find Out More About Dementia
Much of the fear around this condition is due to a lack of understanding of it, how it affects people, and how it might alter behaviours. So, the most helpful thing you can do is educate yourself by finding out more about Dementia. Equipping yourself with all the information is a great way to get rid of the fear that surrounds this condition and take control of your response to it.
10. Help People Get Help and Support
There are many different services, helplines, and support groups to help people with Dementia and their families. Whilst health services may be able to help with diagnosis and medication, the majority of support and ongoing help comes from community groups, services, and voluntary organisations.
We hope you have found this advice helpful and we pray it equips you with the support and guidance you need to support another person with dementia in the best way possible.
(Based on Alzheimer’s society 2014)
© Professor Keith Brown excerpt from ‘Guidance for Christian Faith Organisations in the Support and Value of Older People’ – become a church champion to receive a free copy of the full guidance booklet over email
]]>‘What’s the point in visiting her, now she doesn’t remember who I am?’ a daughter was asked by her mother’s friend. Heather says one of the most hurtful things about caring for her mother with dementia was seeing how her friends dropped away, one by one. ‘They didn’t see how much their visits meant to her,’ Heather recalled sadly. They may not have realised it, but when they visited they were helping her mother retain her sense of identity, even though she’d forgotten theirs.
The most important aspect of dementia care is helping to hold the person’s identity together, said Professor Tom Kitwood of Bradford University, and ‘Identity remains when others help to hold it in place.’ (Dementia Reconsidered, OUP 2010, p 81).
Author Christine Bryden, after being diagnosed with Young Onset Dementia at the age of 46, realised the importance of personal connections and visiting. In a talk at an international conference she appealed:
‘‘If I enjoy your visit, why must I remember it? Why must I remember who you are? Is this just to satisfy your OWN need for identity? So please allow Christ to work through you. Let me live in the present. If I forget a pleasant memory, it does not mean that it was not important for me.”
Tips for visiting and communicating well are given in a new little book, ‘Visiting the Person with Dementia’, with contributions from Dr Jennifer Bute, FRCGP, psychogeriatric nurse Janet Jacob, and author and cognitive behavioural therapist Louise Morse.
Advice ranges from the practical to the spiritual. For example, you should always people living with dementia from the front, smiling widely as though seeing them has made your day. Never tap a person with dementia on the shoulder from the back which could startle them and cause a violent reaction. Always sit so you are at eye level, and slightly to one side so you aren’t overpowering. Know as much as you can about the person before you visit so you can choose topics to talk about that are relevant to them. Be prepared to sit quietly, but also be comfortable gently ‘burbling’ about different things until the person responds to something that catches their attention.
One of our volunteer’s most effective visits was simply supporting a resident’s hand as she quoted familiar scripture verses to her, smiling and keeping eye contact. Vera had lost the ability to speak but her face was aglow as the Holy Spirit ministered to her. Spiritual support is key for Christians with dementia, and it’s good to know that ‘deep calls to deep’ (Psalm 42:7). God knows each person intimately (Psalm 139) and the Holy Spirit will minister this truth.
Louise Morse, Pilgrims’ Friend Society
Louise is a cognitive behavioural therapist and author of several books on old age, including dementia. She is also Media and External Relations Manager with the Pilgrims’ Friend society, a 212 year old Christian charity providing practical and spiritual support to older people.
‘Visiting a Person with Dementia’ and other dementia resources can be found on our resource hub.
]]>In my recent research, I had the privilege of talking with committed Christians who are living with dementia. They spoke passionately about their continuing – even growing – faith and confidence in Christ (names given here are not their real names to protect anonymity). Here’s Alice:
‘…God is always with me … and I know that there’s nothing that can ever separate me from him … but now, even when my brain falls apart … it doesn’t matter.’
David, asked about feeling afraid in the light of his developing dementia, exclaimed: ‘Fear! There is no fear in Jesus!’ And questions about dementia making you feel distant from God brought assertions of the opposite: ‘Closer,’ Rosemary exclaimed. Thinking of the future, Ron said confidently, ‘I know where I’m going … heaven … my God is …there.’ Trust and hope were interwoven in the words of each of the research participants’ responses. Such testimonies are courageous and moving. But how do these make sense in the light of experience and Scripture?
Identity and faith
The ideas of losing your identity and self have become common assumptions as consequences of dementia. For Christians, another question follows, ‘What will happen to my faith, if I lose my “self”?’ Or, as Christine Bryden has queried, at what point on this journey do I cease to be me – and therefore, possibly, lose my relationship with God?[1] What is my identity as a Christian who has dementia? What is ‘saving’ faith for the Christian whose ‘brain falls apart’. Or, for any of us?
The questions raised by dementia, send us back to the Bible to look at some of our assumptions through this different lens.
Who am I?
Most Christians agree that all human beings (whatever their race or faith) are created in the image of God (Genesis 1:26,27). All are ‘breathed’ into life by God – they are both body-and-soul (Genesis 2:7). Together, with all the strength of who we are – body, soul and spirit – we are to love our sovereign God and our neighbour (Matthew 22:37–40). So, we are used to the idea that as God’s people we honour all other human beings as sacred whoever they are. Yet, dementia – if it takes our capacity for rational thought, our memories, our personal identity – might this not also threaten our human status? Some have suggested this might be the case. This is a frightening thought for those who are beginning this journey.
Today in the West, the logical, rational thinking of the Enlightenment is still engrained in how we understand the meaning of faith. Even as Christian believers we default to dependence on the assumption that our cognitive capacities demonstrate our humanity and worth. Dementia pushes us to ask ourselves about the nature of our identity and faith.
Being in Christ
When we get to a later place in God’s story, we make some surprising discoveries. Not only are we made in God’s image, as believers we are caught up in Christ, the perfect image of God (Colossians 1:15; 2:6,7). Grace is not about our talents and thinking capacities making us good enough; it is all about God’s undeserved gift of mercy and love (Ephesians 2:5).
Being ‘born again’ of God’s Spirit isn’t something frailty and illness can undo (I have always been ‘not good enough’). In dementia, my expressions of trust in Christ might be a simple ‘Amen’, a quiet humming of ‘Jesus loves me this I know’; or a momentary smile expressing acknowledgement of him. And God is always on the look-out for those who are seeking him. So, the thief on the cross at the end of life, recognising his sin and the sufficiency of Christ, turns to him and is welcomed (Luke 23:40–43). Elsie, an elderly lady with no known pre-dementia faith commitment, spoke of her own sense of unworthiness, then responded with a joyful ‘Does he?!’ when told that Jesus loves, forgives and accepts her. God’s grace trumps cognitive capacity. In Christ, whatever our situation, having died with him our sin is dealt with ‘once for all’ (Hebrews 10:10, NIVUK), and we have been raised to new life in him with the Father, enabled by the Spirit. Nothing can separate us from the love of God (Romans 8:38–39).
What about now?
So that’s ok then. Whatever dementia brings to me – loss of memory, apparent changes from the pre-dementia self, decreasing ability to respond to others – my essential identity as ‘me’ and my saving faith are safe in Christ. It’ll be all right in the end. But what about now?
Being part of the Body of Christ
One of the tragedies of our western Enlightenment thinking is that we’re convinced of the priority of our personal independence and identity. English translations of Scripture have enforced this with our reading of ‘you’ as meaning ‘me’. In St Paul’s writing in particular there is a different story. ‘You’, more often than not, refers to ‘us’ (1 Corinthians 12:27).
Think for a moment of Paul’s writing about the Body of Christ. All parts of the Body are valued; the weaker parts receive greater honour (1 Corinthians 12:22–23). Sure, we believe this in theory, but how is this reflected in the habits of our church’s life? Do we notice when Sue (‘Oh she’s got dementia now’) and her carer husband are no longer coming to church services? Do we notice Ben’s embarrassment when he can’t find his way back to his seat after going forward to receive communion? What can we, as the Body of Christ do to demonstrate that Christians who have dementia belong to our fellowship, and their gifts are valued? How can we spur each other on (Hebrews 10:24) – and help one another to keep growing in Christ? Or, does the culture of our local church value achievement, social status, appearance etc in ways which exclude those who no longer meet such criteria?
Expressions of faith
Of course, dementia brings changes to faith practice. Bible engagement and prayer may happen in different ways. Alice tells me, ‘I can’t read the Bible because it’s too difficult now to read, so I listen to it every day.’ Asked about regular times of prayer, Rosemary says that now prayer is a conversation with God through the day. Failing concentration and memory may make the old disciplined practices of Bible and prayer impossible. So we need to find other ways of helping our brothers and sisters in Christ receive God’s word and pray with them. Attendance at church services may be particularly difficult for everyone. Unpredictable, informal departures from the normal service may be confusing. If most songs are unfamiliar, the words and music cannot do their work of reconnecting the Christian living with dementia to their sense of God’s closeness.
Some have surprisingly queried whether those living with dementia should still be allowed to participate in a service of communion: ‘Do they know what it means?’ Fortunately, as discussed above, God’s grace does not depend on what any of us know. The Lord’s Supper supremely demonstrates that as God’s people we come to his table as equals. For those living with dementia, actions, taste, smell, familiar words, interactions of giver and receiver awaken memories and come together to communicate the love of God for us and demonstrate our receptive response to him. It is a sacred moment of being together in the presence and welcome of Christ.
Yet, all of the above, for those not affected by dementia, require patience, empathic imagination and creative love.
Walking through shadow
No matter how strong my trust in God, there is no doubt that dementia brings darkness. In spite of my participants’ vibrant trust in God, there have been times when they have cried out (as Jesus did), ‘My God, my God , why…?’ (Mark 15:33–34; Psalm 22:1) There may be times of overwhelming confusion: it’s like going ‘up an escalator which is coming down’ (Rosemary). There will be times when the assumptions of other Christians about our faith in our experience of dementia hurt us: ‘You must have forgotten…’ Nevertheless, the participants in my research knew, that in spite of, and above everything, God was with them and that, ‘I am loved’ (Alice).
Dementia challenges all of us. How can we, as fellow disciples of Jesus, accompany those who are walking through the darkness of this illness?
Growing in faith
Now , here is another surprising theme from Scripture: in suffering and darkness there is joy, hope and growth (see Romans 5:1–5). We only need to look at the story of God’s people in the Old Testament and the reflections in the psalms to see this pattern at work. For the Christian believer the Scriptures tell us again and again that in suffering our trust in God is strengthened as we become increasingly filled with the hope of faith which invades our experience of the present. Faith then is not only ‘a pragmatic coping strategy’.[2]
In my research this was evident in the words of those I interviewed. In spite of acknowledging their experience of darkness, they also spoke of being filled with joy and peace – and of their hope in Christ. Of course, they and we are dependent on the work of the Holy Spirit to bring this kind of transformation: ‘I have a kind of peace… which doesn’t come from me. I think it comes from God,’ Jill said. So, let’s pray with and for each other!
Walking with each other
Pastorally, how might we co-operate in this particular discipleship journey? In the confident and joy-through-tears faith of my research participants there were some shared characteristics of how they were responding to the presence of dementia in their lives. These resonate with words of the apostle Paul to the Christians in Rome:
We boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us (Romans 5:2–5, NIVUK).
Astonishingly, there was a sense of God’s purpose in their illness: ‘If God had not willed me…’ (Rosemary). There was also a deliberate acceptance of God’s purpose, bringing the response of how can I live out this experience which I receive from God? There was ongoing trust in God’s love and a desire, in the midst of dementia, ‘to just bring glory to him’. And joy was present: ‘I’ll never lose that joy, but I have lost my memory,’ Ron reflected quietly. Underlying it all was hope for the future, transforming experience of the present. Endurance was being enabled in the knowledge of this hope as the Holy Spirit was (still) at work in their lives. Growth seems to be St. Paul’s expectation of believers as part of their nature of being in Christ. So, perception of God’s purpose, acceptance of this, continuing trust in God’s love, rejoicing in his will for my life – all was being enabled by hope in Christ through the work of his Spirit.
There’s another hidden ingredient in response to the ‘how can this be?’ question. Embedded in Paul’s words is the assumption that he is addressing a community of believers. Endurance in the New Testament is enabled by the supporting, remembering community of faith.[3] As we prepare for or care for the developments of dementia, we need to think again about what it means to be part of the Body of Christ. ‘They have to remind me,’ Alice asserts of her faith community. Christine Bryden appealing to her fellow believers pleads:
As I travel towards the dissolution of my self, my personality, my very “essence”, my relationship with God needs increasing support from you, my other in the body of Christ … I need you to minister to me, to sing with me, pray with me, to be my memory for me.[4]
What happens to our faith in dementia?
Our essential identity – who we are in Christ – is safe in him.[5] As human beings, this illness will bring changes to how we express ourselves and our faith. But God’s love for us does not change. Witnessing the experience of those who live with dementia as fellow disciples of Christ teaches us a new awareness of our own sense of identity, frailty and the meaning of our faith. Humbly, we endeavour to learn from one another, seeing Christ himself in the lives of our ‘weakest’ brothers and sisters.
Yes, we can help one another – but not from assumptions of our own superiority or as those who have ‘right’ answers. Rather, as Dianne Crowther[6] reminds her readers, it will be as those who walk ‘in solidarity’ with their fellow disciples in the community of faith. As Jesus calls us to be with him, so we are called to walk with those who travel through the shadows of dementia – our eyes fixed on Jesus who has walked this way before.
© ‘Tricia Williams, PhD
‘Tricia has recently completed her PhD research at the University of Aberdeen, under the supervision of Professor John Swinton in the area of faith and dementia. Here she reflects on the experience of faith for Christians who live with this illness. Her work suggests that dementia can bring fresh perspectives for understanding who we are, the nature of faith, and what it means to be ‘church’.
Email: [email protected]
Further reading suggestions:
Christine Bryden, Dancing with Dementia: My story of Living Positively with Dementia (Jessica Kingsley, 2005).
Jennifer Bute and Louise Morse, Dementia from the Inside: A doctor’s personal journey of hope (SPCK, 2018).
Dianne Crowther, Sustaining Persons, Grieving Losses (Cascade Books, 2017).
John Swinton, Dementia: Living in the Memories of God (Eerdmanns , 2012).
[1] Christine Bryden, and Elizabeth MacKinlay, ‘Dementia: A Spiritual Journey towards the Divine: A Personal View of Dementia,’ Journal of Religious Gerontology, 13:3-4 (2003):71, http://dx.doi.org/10.1300/J078v13n03_05
[2] Peter Kevern, “Dementia and Spirituality: The current State of Research and its Implications,” 2018, https://www.rcpsych.ac.uk/pdf/Peter%20Kevern%20Dementia%20and%20Spirituality.pdf
[3] Stanley Hauerwas, The Peaceable Kingdom: A Primer in Christian Ethics (University of Notre Dame Press, 1983), 98.
[4] Christine Bryden and Elizabeth MacKinlay, ‘Dementia: A Spiritual Journey towards the Divine,’ 74.
[5] See further discussion of this in John Swinton, Becoming Friends of Time (London: SCM, 2017).
[6] Dianne Crowther, Sustaining Persons, Grieving Losses (Cascade Books, 2017), 167.
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