The Sunset Moment

Ann Satterfield vividly remembers her first patient as a hospital chaplain intern in New York City.

- Daniel Hoffman

A man in his sixties, whom she calls Mr. C, had just been told he had only days to live. In his last hours of lucidity, Mr. C was angry at the prospect of leaving his loved ones behind so soon. Trained to minister to the dying and comfort the bereaved, Ann prayed with the man and his teenage daughter, then gave them some time alone.

She returned later to find Mr. C drifting in and out of consciousness. Ann asked him if he wanted her to stay. He nodded weakly. Finally, he turned on his side to face her. Their eyes met, and the air and energy in the room suddenly changed. As Ann recalls, a white light began to glow from behind the man’s face. His skin became translucent; golden beams of light radiated everywhere. The likeness of Jesus formed from the light, and Ann watched this likeness intensify, pulling the man’s spirit out of his body through the top of his head. Left behind was a misty, silver light in the form of a double helix, which slowly faded away. Mr. C died a short time later.

These last moments of spiritual brilliance are sometimes called “sunset moments,” and they are not as uncommon as one might think. As Ann, now a spiritual director who splits her time between New York City and California, says, “Revelation didn’t stop in biblical times. God does this democratically.” Moments such as these can have a powerful and comforting impact on those who witness them. They impart a kind of renewed faith, a feeling of grace or even healing. For people who are close to the deceased, Ann says, the experience is often a way for God to show them that their loved one has “been restored to wholeness.”