The debate over House Bill 140, Delaware’s latest attempt to legalize medical aid in dying, is about far more than just legislative nuance. It forces us to wrestle with profound moral questions: Who has the right to end a life? What role should doctors play in that decision? And perhaps most critically, where do we draw the line between compassion and convenience?

The Bill’s Proposal

The proposed legislation, House Bill 140, seeks to grant terminally ill adults—those with a prognosis of six months or less to live—the legal right to request and obtain life-ending medication. Proponents highlight built-in safeguards designed to prevent misuse or coercion. Under the bill, patients must submit two verbal requests and one written request, with mandatory waiting periods between each step to confirm their intention. Physicians are tasked with verifying that the individual is of sound mind, acting voluntarily, and fully informed of all options, including palliative care and hospice services.

On its face, this legislation is presented as a compassionate solution, allowing individuals to retain control over their final days, die with dignity, and avoid unnecessary physical and emotional suffering. Supporters champion it as a matter of personal autonomy—a deeply personal decision that only the individual, not the government or society, should make. They also point to states like Oregon and Washington, where similar laws have been in effect for years, claiming these laws operate smoothly and without abuse.

But is that the full story?

The Christian Conservative Viewpoint

As Christians, we hold firmly to the belief that life is sacred from conception to natural death. This conviction is deeply rooted in Scripture and reflects the understanding that human life is a divine gift, imbued with purpose and value at every stage. The Bible teaches, “Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you? If any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy” (1 Corinthians 3:16-17). These words remind us that our bodies and lives are not ours to dispose of; they belong to God. To take a life, even our own, is to usurp a sovereignty that belongs to Him alone.

This belief is more than just a theological principle—it’s a comprehensive worldview that recognizes the inherent worth and dignity of every person, even in their weakest, most vulnerable moments. Life’s value isn’t measured by productivity, independence, or lack of suffering. It is intrinsic, a reflection of the image of God in each of us (Genesis 1:27).

Advocates for medical aid in dying often present their case with the best intentions, emphasizing compassion for those who face unbearable pain or terminal illness. On the surface, their arguments seem reasonable: Why prolong suffering when a peaceful exit appears merciful? However, such laws frequently open the door to unintended and troubling consequences. What begins as a narrowly defined option for those with terminal illnesses can, over time, expand into societal pressure for other groups—the sick, elderly, disabled, or even mentally ill—to end their lives prematurely.

This isn’t mere speculation. Evidence from jurisdictions where assisted dying is legal shows that the so-called “right to die” can evolve into a subtle but insidious “duty to die.”

Lessons from Elsewhere

Consider Oregon, the first U.S. state to legalize medical aid in dying under its Death with Dignity Act. While the law was introduced with assurances of strict safeguards and limited use, the data tells a sobering story. According to annual reports, some patients seeking life-ending medication have explicitly cited “being a burden on family or caregivers” as one of their primary motivations. This raises the question: How much of this choice is truly autonomous, and how much is influenced by feelings of guilt or societal pressure? When a patient perceives their life as an inconvenience to loved ones, the so-called “right to die” can become an unspoken obligation to die.

The experience in Canada, where medical assistance in dying (MAID) has been legal since 2016, underscores the dangers of normalizing this practice. Initially intended for terminally ill adults facing unbearable suffering, MAID has steadily expanded to include those with chronic conditions, disabilities, and even mental illness. Recent reports reveal alarming cases where vulnerable individuals—particularly those with disabilities—were offered euthanasia in lieu of receiving proper care or housing. These aren’t isolated incidents. For example, a disabled veteran seeking support to install a home stairlift was allegedly offered MAID as an alternative.

Such stories highlight the real and chilling risk of a societal shift. When the focus moves from alleviating suffering to eliminating the sufferer, the most vulnerable members of society—those who are poor, elderly, disabled, or lacking robust family support—bear the brunt of the consequences. They are the ones most likely to internalize societal messages, spoken or unspoken, that their lives are less valuable or too burdensome.

This is where the line between compassion and coercion becomes dangerously blurred. What begins as a personal choice for some can, over time, evolve into a subtle societal expectation for others. A culture that prizes efficiency, independence, and control over suffering risks framing vulnerability as a problem to be solved rather than a condition to be embraced with dignity and care.

And this slippery slope isn’t just theoretical. In jurisdictions where assisted dying has become normalized, it often coincides with underfunded palliative care and social services. Why invest in costly and time-intensive hospice care or long-term support when ending a life is quicker and cheaper? It’s no coincidence that stories of coercion or neglect emerge in systems where assisted dying is easier to access than adequate care.

These trends raise urgent moral and ethical questions. How do we, as a society, value life—especially the lives of those who cannot advocate for themselves? If we are not vigilant, the shift from a “right to die” to a “duty to die” becomes not only plausible but inevitable. The vulnerable are left at the mercy of a system that may prioritize convenience or cost-saving measures over compassion and dignity.

The lesson from Oregon and Canada is clear: no amount of legal safeguards can fully protect against the cultural and systemic pressures that come with normalizing assisted dying. A society that legalizes medical aid in dying risks eroding its commitment to the inherent value of every life, especially the lives of those who most need our care and protection.

The Broader Cultural Shift

What’s driving this push for medical aid in dying? At its core, it reflects a society increasingly uncomfortable with suffering and, perhaps more troublingly, ill-equipped to address it meaningfully. We live in a culture that prizes independence, control, and productivity above all else. These values, while not inherently bad, create an aversion to anything that challenges the illusion of self-sufficiency—such as aging, illness, and death.

Death, in particular, serves as a stark reminder of our ultimate lack of control. Rather than confronting this reality with humility and compassion, society often seeks ways to bypass it. Medical aid in dying can be seen as the ultimate assertion of control over an uncontrollable process. Yet, in this rush to minimize suffering by any means necessary, we risk overlooking the profound dignity and purpose that can be found even in life’s most challenging moments.

There’s also a deeper cultural issue at play: the marginalization of community. Modern Western society is highly individualistic, which can leave people isolated when they are most in need of support. Terminally ill individuals may feel they have nowhere to turn, not because their lives lack value, but because they lack the kind of community that reminds them of their worth. When people are surrounded by love, care, and affirmation, they are far less likely to see their existence as an “inconvenience.”

For Christians, this cultural trend represents a profound challenge—and an opportunity. Scripture calls us not to turn away from suffering but to enter into it alongside those who are hurting. As Paul wrote, “Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2). The church has a vital role to play here, not just as an advocate against laws like medical aid in dying, but as a living example of what true compassion looks like.

This means stepping up in practical, tangible ways. Hospice care, pain management, and emotional support are powerful tools to affirm the dignity of life, even in its final stages. Churches can partner with local hospices, provide volunteer caregivers, or establish ministries specifically for the sick and dying. We must also equip families to care for their loved ones, offering both spiritual encouragement and practical assistance.

Moreover, we must challenge the narrative that suffering has no value. While no one seeks out pain, the Christian faith teaches that even in suffering, there can be profound meaning. Christ’s suffering on the cross was not pointless—it was redemptive. In the same way, the trials we face at the end of life can deepen relationships, foster reconciliation, and draw us closer to God.

None of this is easy. Walking alongside someone in their final days is messy, heart-wrenching, and deeply humbling. But it is also one of the most Christ-like things we can do. The church must remind the world that the antidote to suffering isn’t escape—it’s love. When we surround the sick and dying with care, community, and hope, we not only affirm their dignity but also point to the eternal life that awaits us all in Christ.

Ultimately, the push for medical aid in dying isn’t just a policy debate; it’s a reflection of a spiritual crisis. A society that idolizes autonomy over everything else will inevitably struggle to see the value in life when it feels out of control. The church’s mission, then, is to counter this narrative with the gospel truth: our lives are not defined by our independence or productivity, but by the infinite worth God has placed upon us. That truth can transform not only how we face death but how we live.

A Call for Discernment

As Delaware lawmakers debate House Bill 140, the question before us isn’t just about individual choice—it’s about the kind of society we aspire to be. Will we be a society that values every life, even when it is messy, difficult, or inconvenient? Or will we allow ourselves to drift toward a culture that subtly pushes the most vulnerable among us toward death, cloaking this coercion in the language of autonomy and compassion?

This bill raises profound questions about our collective priorities. Are we willing to invest in comprehensive care for the terminally ill, ensuring they are supported physically, emotionally, and spiritually? Or will we instead normalize the idea that ending a life is an acceptable solution to suffering, perpetuating the dangerous notion that some lives are no longer worth living?

The push for medical aid in dying often highlights personal autonomy, but it’s critical to remember that autonomy doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Many terminally ill individuals experience deep feelings of isolation, fear, or guilt about being a burden on their families. Without a robust system of support—be it medical, emotional, or spiritual—such feelings can distort what might otherwise be a choice for life. It’s our responsibility as a community to ensure that no one feels pressured to choose death because their support system has failed them.

Instead of legislation that frames death as the simplest way to address suffering, Delaware must focus on building better systems of care. Improved hospice services, advancements in pain management, access to counseling, and the presence of compassionate caregivers can all help alleviate the despair that often leads people to consider ending their lives. The church also has a unique role to play in this process, offering spiritual guidance and a community of love and support to those in their final days.

As Scripture reminds us, “Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2). This is a call to action—not to step away from suffering but to embrace those who are suffering with care and compassion. It’s through this kind of sacrificial love that we uphold the dignity of life, even in its most fragile moments.

Delaware doesn’t need House Bill 140. What it needs are communities that rally around the sick and dying, affirming their worth and reminding them they are not alone. It needs policies that invest in life, not in its premature end, and a society that sees caring for the vulnerable as a privilege rather than a burden.

As this critical debate unfolds, let us pray for wisdom for lawmakers, compassion for caregivers, and courage for communities to stand firm in defense of human dignity. Let us remind the world that true autonomy is not found in the freedom to end life but in the security of knowing we are loved and cared for, no matter what.