Pure Land practice really hinges on the idea that a single, heartfelt invocation of Amitabha Buddha’s name can open the door to a blissful rebirth—even at life’s final gasp. According to the 18th Vow of Amitabha, anyone who entrusts themselves completely and utters “Namu Amida Butsu” even as few as ten times is assured of landing in the Pure Land. At the eleventh hour, that vow shines like a beacon in a storm.

Centuries of anecdotes—from ancient China to modern-day Taiwan—reinforce this promise. During the COVID-19 waves, recordings surfaced of patients whispering Amitabha’s name in makeshift hospital wards, their voices trembling yet unwavering. Monastics and laypeople alike streamed continuous recitations online, reminding countless viewers that it’s never too late to lean on this practice.

Effectiveness doesn’t come down to ritual finesse or scholarly understanding. What matters most is “single-minded faith,” often described as the mind’s meeting-point with Amitabha’s boundless compassion. When push comes to shove, that sincere spark can dispel fear and confusion, carrying one’s consciousness across the threshold.

A handful of contemporary teachers emphasize that a calm, concentrated mind helps, but they also stress: panic needn’t block the way. Even a whisper, uttered with genuine trust, is enough. It’s like catching the last train—no fancy ticket required, just showing up at the platform in faith.

So yes, chanting Amitabha’s name at life’s final moments can be profoundly effective. This practice isn’t a lottery or an insurance policy, but a heartfelt appeal to the timeless vow of infinite light and life—ready to embrace anyone who calls.