Rivers feature prominently in many accounts of the the transition between this world and the next. They are found in myths, near-death experiences, literature, and dreams, and often pose an ordeal or test to the journeying spirit. Those who can pass through the river succeed in being liberated from past burdens or illusions. The river ordeal is memorably depicted by English preacher John Bunyan in The Pilgrim’s Progress from This World to That Which Is to Come. Bunyan’s tale is an allegory about how we should conduct ourselves throughout our life’s journey, including the final leg–safely reaching the ultimate goal of heaven.

The main character in The Pilgrim’s Progress is an ordinary man named Christian, who is seeking the celestial city of heaven. To reach it he must avoid the temptations and fears with which earthly life threatens him. After many trials he, with his companion Hopeful, arrive at the outskirts of heaven, where they encounter a final, unexpected barrier–the River of Death. Two Shining Men inform them that they must pass through this river if they are to enter heaven.
The river, however, is not the same for every pilgrim. As the angel tells them: “you shall find it deeper or shallower, as you believe in the King of the place.” Hopeful’s crossing is easy, but Christian sinks into the waves.

And with that a great darkness and horror fell upon Christian, so that he could not see before him. Also here he in great measure lost his senses, so that he could neither remember, nor orderly talk of, any of those sweet refreshments that he had met with in the way of his pilgrimage. But all the words that he spake still tended to discover that he had horror of mind, and heart-fears that he should die in that river, and never obtain entrance in at the gate. Here also, as they that stood by perceived, he was much in the troublesome thoughts of the sins that he had committed, both since and before he began to be a pilgrim. ‘Twas also observed that he was troubled with apparitions of hobgoblins and evil spirits. . . .

His companion, Hopeful, counsels him to take comfort in his faith:

These troubles and distresses that you go through in these waters are no sign that God hath forsaken you, but are sent to try you, whether you will call to mind that which heretofore you have received of his goodness, and live upon him in your distresses. . . . Be of good cheer. Jesus Christ maketh thee whole.

Christian, who had fallen into a trance, now awakens, shouting, “Oh, I see him again! and he tells me, ‘When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee’ (Isaiah 43.2).” Christian and Hopeful then emerge on the other bank of the River of Death. The Shining Men, who had been standing by unseen all along, greet them again and conduct them to the gates of heaven, where they are joyfully admitted.

Bearing in mind this version, it’s intriguing to reflect on the similarities of the transition at death and this artistic depiction of drowning. Water has long served as a symbol of unitive consciousness-the blissful “oceanic” feeling of the person who experiences oneness with the universe. And so, water appropriately symbolizes the fundamental shift the mind is said to experience at death. By leaving one’s narrow ego-consciousness, the soul is purified and returns to a more unitive, expanded consciousness–a state in which one easily feels love for everyone else. The soul who easily crosses the river of death may be said to have made a successful transition from earthly orientation to that of the afterdeath realm. By contrast, the soul who struggles or is overwhelmed by the waves is somehow resistant to this transformation.

Bunyan’s allegory unites many of the prominent themes of soul-cleansing as described in various cultures. This stage in the afterlife may be summarized as:

• This phase is not necessarily more frightening than are the tribulations one encounters on earth, but it is the final hurdle to overcome in order to reach heaven.
• One’s state of mind depends on one’s degree of faith (or, in some traditions, on one’s ability to maintain meditative calm, which may amount to the same thing).
• The fearful may panic and temporarily lose their wits, while the calm and hopeful suffer little distress.
• Guilt and fearful apparitions afflict the soul as he or she recalls past transgressions.
  The individual may feel alone, but in fact, helpful spirits are ever ready to give encouragement.
• If one is frightened, the soul may emerge from the ordeal by regaining a measure of self-control (this is a test, as Hopeful tells Christian, of whether a person will bring to mind faith in the goodness and mercy of God. This compares with the assurances in the Tibetan Book of the Dead that the soul will escape its suffering by taking refuge in any of the compassionate beings that appear in the bardo).
• And finally, this painful process results in a stronger individual–Christian is at last “made whole.”

We see this played out in the account of a Siberian Samoyed hunter, who had been mistakenly thought dead by his family. During his journey to the underworld, he told an anthropologist, his spirit flew across an ocean, forests, and mountains. Then, as he said,

Finally I reached a ridge of high hills from which I could see a black river. There were many people in the black river all trying to escape from it. Some of them sank ever deeper into the stream and they tried in vain to work themselves out. Others climbed the smooth mountain slopes until their bloody hands were no longer able to continue and they would fall down again. In the river there was a tremendously high pole which many climbed. Large birds were flying around the pole and terrified the people so that they would lose their grip.

This vision offers of a panoramic view of how differently individuals may react to the afterdeath experience. To some, this same river and mountain slope could be a source of profit and enjoyment, not something to be resisted: “[They] drove back and forth on the river without trying to escape but fished and had a good time on the sandbanks. In the forests above the river, people were hunting and living just like on earth. A few of them were there with their entire families; others waited for their wives and children.”1

In this composite picture of the journey, some people struggle to emerge from the water, some suffer in the climb up the mountain, some live peacefully nearby with their loved ones. All persons may cross the same “terrain,” but for certain individuals it will be arduous and painful, for others easy and rewarding. We each travel a unique path at death, in other words. And we each eventually reach our destination–this too is shown in the myths. Yet it appears that we pass many of the same psychic landmarks on our way.

The accounts often indicate, however, that the water-crossing experience is transformative. Hindus wish their ashes to be scattered in the Ganges River, the “Mother,” as a sign of their return to the God/Goddess . If the hero Gilgamesh, in the Sumerian epic poem, wishes to return alive from his journey to the underworld, he must not to touch the waters when he crosses the Sea of Death. As part of his transformation from Egyptian king to the god of the underworld, Osiris was sealed in a chest and flung into the Nile River by his jealous brother, Seth. Isis, Osiris’ devoted sister-wife, followed the casket to the sea, later restoring him to life.

1 Holger Kalweit, Dreamtime and Inner Space, Boulder, CO: Shambhala, 1988, p. 33.