No, I'm not a prophet, and no, it isn't pronounced that way.
I wasn't named after him, but my hippy (non-religious) parents wanted to give me a Biblical name... What?
(Why not Ruth, or Sarah, or Esther?)
No one pronounces it correctly, and forget about the spelling. Whenever my irritation at the mispronunciation is discovered, people take hold and run with it, mostly because they get some kick out of my dire facial expression. (Apparently they think it's funny.)
Humans are hard-wired for survival. An innate mechanism that drives us to fight when Death comes calling.
You can speculate how you would feel about your own demise, until it's eminent and there is no Savior to fend off her knowing hands. Facing your own mortality, truly standing on the precipice, changes you. Over time you realize the fear is more about potential suffering and sadness for leaving those you love.
I used to think that a dignified death was one devoid of undignified...