Easter Changes How We View Death

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After some experiences in life, you can never be the same: graduating from school, experiencing a major injury or illness; getting married, having a child, getting divorced; getting a major promotion, relocating to another part of the country, losing a job.

Experiences– good and bad– can leave a lasting imprint on our lives. They can figure into almost every choice we make, every situation we encounter.

In matters of faith, however, we often move on to other things too quickly.

I invite you to linger at the empty tomb. To experience Easter. The empty tomb promises the full life we crave. The view from the empty tomb can transform how we view everything if we take time to understand and apply it to our lives. In my next few blogs, we’ll explore some of the ways Jesus’ resurrection changes how we view death, our lives, God, and each other.

Seven Funerals in Seven Years

Back to life-changing experiences: One such experience — or more properly set of experiences—that deeply changed my outlook on life was attending the funerals of my relatives when I was a young student. The first was the death of my Gramma Rumford when I was in sixth grade. I attended six additional funerals as I lost three grandparents, three aunts, and an uncle in the seven years from my sixth through twelfth grades. To this day the smell of certain flowers takes me immediately to memories of funeral homes.

I learned early on that death comes.

At my first funeral, I remember being uncertain what to do at the open-casket viewing (that was standard practice in those days) of Gramma Rumford who died at age 69 from cancer. Though it sounds macabre, I found myself staring at Gramma, expecting to see her eyelids flicker, looking for faint signs of breathing. I was puzzled by how death looked so much like sleep. I almost expected someone to say, “We were wrong! Look, your Gramma is alive!”

Impossible, of course. The wishful thinking of a child.

But wishful thinking can arise from the seeds of faith. Such was the case, not only on that first Easter, but with the account of Lazarus. The raising of Lazarus (John 11) helps us understand the implications of Jesus defeating death.

Jesus’ resurrection means we can never look at death in the same way.

The shortest verse in the Bible proclaims one of the greatest messages of the incarnation, “Jesus wept” (John 11:35). Jesus entered into our suffering. He grieved the heartache of his dear friend, Lazarus, feeling death’s cold hand close around him. He grieved the unspeakable ache of the family’s pain at their loss. Jesus grieved for all humanity subjected to the power of sin and death.

And perhaps Jesus wept the first of his Gethsemane tears…

But grief was not the last word.

Jesus told Martha, Lazarus’ sister, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:25). Jesus’ words apply not only to the future, but to our present experience of life and death.

Eternal life starts now

Death has been defeated as the ultimate enemy. Death is not the end of the road. It is the exit ramp to a new way. We don’t dismiss the pain and struggle. We do, however, draw strength by looking beyond them.

We weep, like Jesus. We grieve. And we keep perspective.

“Now this is eternal life: that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent” (John 17:3 NIV).

Professor Leon Morris writes, “The moment a [person] puts their trust in Christ they begin to experience that life of the age to come which cannot be touched by death.”

Three days before posting this blog, we lost a dear friend and member of our congregation to COVID-19. My heart aches for his family and for all of us who loved and respected him. But we do not grieve as those who have no hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13). He has crossed the chasm of death on the bridge of the cross to Life Everlasting. And by faith, we will join him one day.

I draw great strength from the Good News the Apostle Paul proclaims in that great chapter on the resurrection, 1 Corinthians 15:

“‘Death has been swallowed up in victory.’

‘Where, O death, is your victory?

    Where, O death, is your sting?’

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain” (1 Corinthians 15:54-58 NIV)

As that final verse reminds us, Jesus’ victory over death also affects how we view every moment of every day—more on that in my next post.

 

Death Magnified: A Reflection on Lives Cut Short

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Life cut short magnifies death.

The sudden death of basketball legend Kobe Bryant (age 41), his daughter Gianna (age 13), and seven others (ages 13-56) in a helicopter crash in Southern California on January 26th has shaken many people to the core. The impact is similar to the global shock and grief in response to the deaths Princess Diana (age 36), Dodi Fayed, and their driver, Henri Paul in August 1997.

Statistically, about 151,000 people die daily around the globe. About two-thirds of those die from age-related issues. But it’s the deaths of younger celebrities that seem to have the most impact. Consider the so-called “27 Club” of rock stars who died at the age of 27 like Brian Jones, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison (who all died between 1969 and 1971), Kurt Cobain and Amy Winehouse.

In a celebrity death, we see death magnified. We experience deeply, viscerally, in ways words fail to express, the tragedy of lost potential, of earthly blessings vaporized in an instant.

For some reason, the death of a public figure brings home the vivid reality of loss that is the strongest mark of death. Everything takes on a new perspective. Time stops. People crave being together. There’s an inner drive, an instinct, to honor the person and to share memories cherished and grieve dreams lost.

Celtic spirituality (not to be confused with the Boston Celtics professional NBA basketball team!) had an insightful name for this experience. Celtic Christians (based generally in the British Isles in the 4th-6th centuries) had a concept of “thin time.” This is a moment or period when we experience that “haunting” of something much more beyond the daily world of our senses and material existence.

We live with a thick curtain between ourselves and “spiritual, eternal” realities. We are absorbed in the world we know. We hardly ever think there’s something more. Then a disruptive event, especially death, pulls back the curtain. It’s like there’s a sheer drape through which we see shadows, sense movement, and perceive a very different “reality.” This is what Christians define as The Real World. 

Death poses the ultimate problem and challenge of life. Followers of Jesus grieve, the Apostle Paul said, “but not as those who have no hope” (1 Thessalonians 4:13).

The Heidelberg Catechism, written in 1563 in Germany during the early years of the Protestant Reformation, presents one of the most reassuring statements of hope in the face of all life’s difficulties, including death, in all theology. Framed as a catechism (a question-answer format used to teach students through memorization), it begins with the most important question we all ask:

Lord’s Day 1 Question 1

Question 1. What is your only comfort in life and in death?

Answer. That I am not my own, but belong—body and soul, in life and in death—to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ. He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil. He also watches over me in such a way that not a hair can fall from my head without the will of my Father in heaven; in fact, all things must work together for my salvation.

Because I belong to him, Christ, by his Holy Spirit, assures me of eternal life and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him.

The living Lord Jesus comforts us so we can comfort others.

A life cut short magnifies death. But the resurrected Lord Jesus magnifies Life and gives us an unshakable hope.