It was late September 2022. Our family had just moved in a couple of months before and I was still getting to know our church family, when I got a call that Mary Billings had died. As the call ended, I remember crashing down into my office chair, and all I could pray was, “Jesus, give me the words to speak to Leanna and her family.” I remember walking through the door of the Quattlebaum funeral home and talking to a long-time friend of Mary who said to me, “It’s the circle of life, right?” As if to say that death is natural. It’s okay. That’s just how things are. Yet I experienced an unsettling feeling, a whisper growing louder, the same one I’ve always felt when witnessing death…death isn’t right. Caskets aren’t okay. Cemeteries shouldn’t exist. Yet, we hear this idea that “death is natural” all the time. Death is to be expected. Death is how life works. But is it? Is death as natural as we make it out to be? Is there a reason why humanity has never been able to stop raging against it? Does this tell us something far deeper that only the Lord can reveal to us?
Before we get there, we need to talk through why it’s such a common notion today that death is just nature taking its course. It’s an idea that’s been around for a long time, but it took off in our culture around the 16th and 17th centuries, especially with a philosopher named Michel de Montaigne, known mostly for creating the literary genre of essay writing. There’s your Trivial Pursuit fun fact of the day. His most significant work was his volume “Essays,” in which he writes, “If you don't know how to die, don't worry; Nature will tell you what to do on the spot, fully and adequately. She will do this job perfectly for you; don't bother your head about it.” In other words, nature will come alongside you, and gently guide you to your end, a ceasing of existing, so don’t worry about it…but we most certainly do….the final thoughts we commonly have as people show that deep down we know death isn’t okay, and we know death isn’t the end.
About a month ago at the commencement program of the University of Pennsylvania, Pulitzer-Prize-winning author and oncologist Siddhartha Mukherjee talked out the four most common thoughts people share when they’re close to death: I want to tell you that I love you. I want to tell you that I forgive you. Would you tell me that you love me? Would you give me your forgiveness? What is on the minds of people as they face death? Two things: Love and forgiveness. What can bring peace to our shaking souls when we face death, the crossing of that fearsome boundary that despite all our platitudes, popularized by The Lion King, “It’s the circle of life?” It’s the hope of love and forgiveness. Does this give us a glimpse of the true reality of death? It does. Death isn’t the end and we know it. Like Solomon once reflected, “He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” But we aren’t about glimpses. We’re about knowing what Jesus, the One who gives real meaning to all, has to say about it.
What does God tell us about the nature of death? First, he acknowledges that death is the most terrifying and unnatural part of life. The psalmist in Psalm 116 puts it this way, “The cords of death entangled me, the anguish of the grave came over me; I was overcome by distress and sorrow.” Isn’t that exactly how our sinful selves respond? Fear and anxiety, which is precisely why we as a culture, and I confess to you in my own heart, try to avoid death. We don’t like hospitals. We don’t necessarily enjoy visiting people in hospice. We can’t keep it together when we stand before an urn or a casket. We can’t even stand seeing wrinkles, the ever-present reminder that death is coming for me. On our own, we can’t face death, and deep down we know that it isn’t the end. The scary part is this…what comes next. You look at even most religions, and most cultures throughout history there is one commonality when it comes to the afterlife: there will be a judgment. Doesn’t it all connect then why the last two things we’re thinking about are love and forgiveness? To have hope, instead of dying longing for love and in regret?
That’s what must have been on Lazarus’ mind too. We came into this conversation to see how Jesus views death as revealed by his Word. In John 11, his opinion on the subject is unmistakable. So just to get our bearings here. Jesus is very close to going to Jerusalem for Holy Week, to die on the cross, and one day he gets news that his dear friend Lazarus, the brother of Mary and Martha, is sick. But he doesn’t seem to do anything about it. He doesn’t run to the house to heal him, but he stays put. But he says this to his disciples, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; but I am going there to wake him up.” The disciples don’t understand what he’s saying but they follow him there. When he finally gets there it’s been four days since Lazarus died. And if you’re like me, I can’t help but think, “Jesus, why didn’t you get there sooner? Not only to save Lazarus but to comfort Mary and Martha right away?” Yet, as is always the case, Jesus has a far better plan and a far deeper love than me.
As he’s approaching the house, Martha sees him and immediately goes out to him, and her grieving heart breaks, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.” Jesus says, “Your brother will rise again.” And he went to say, “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?” And Martha wastes no time in reply, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who is to come into the world.” Martha then goes back into the houses, tons of people are there paying their respects when she takes her sister Mary by the hand and leads her to Jesus, and Mary says the same thing as her sister, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Mary breaks down, crying and crying, and Jesus can’t hold it back. He sees her crying and “was deeply moved in spirit and troubled.” The Greek words tell us what Jesus was feeling. It’s an angry compassion. He is distraught over what sin and death have done to the world he designed for joy and life. He sees the pain stretched across emotions and physically, and he wants to face death head-on. But before he does, the shortest verse in the Bible hits with a love only Jesus can give, “Jesus wept.” And this isn’t a mere tear. He’s sobbing. Why? Because none of this is okay.
Tim Keller, in one of the last things he wrote before Jesus took him home described what Jesus was communicating like this, “To say “Oh, death is just natural,” is to harden and perhaps kill a part of your heart's hope that makes you human. We know deep down that we are not like trees or grass. We were created to last. We don't want to be ephemeral, to be inconsequential. We don't want to just be a wave upon the sand. The deepest desires of our hearts are for love that lasts. Death is not the way it ought to be. It is abnormal, it is not a friend, it isn't right. This isn't truly part of the circle of life. Death is the end of it. So grieve. Cry.” Jesus did.
But of course, what happens next? Jesus stands directly in front of the tomb, the tears roll again, he’s deeply moved and he says, “Take away the stone.” Even Martha objects on account of the smell of decomposition, and Jesus replies, “Did I tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?” Jesus looks up to heaven, prays to his Father for all to hear, and he calls Lazarus by name shouting, “Lazarus, come out!” And he came out wrapped in strips of linen! Then Jesus says, “Take off the grave clothes and let him go.” Through Jesus’ word, death had no hold on Lazarus. He was free. But that wasn’t the day Jesus truly dealt with death. You know it well.
He went into death’s home, hell itself. He endured every assault, every attack, every bit of the arsenal of death’s power on the cross. And he lived to tell the tale. That’s the true circle of life is the circular entrance of his empty tomb. Jesus rose from the dead. Death has no hold on him, and if that’s all we talked about today, wouldn’t be amazing? But this isn’t just his story. It’s yours too. Remember what Paul said, “But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep.” Jesus’ resurrection is just the beginning. Your resurrection day is coming too. Jesus has put death to death. We no longer fear death because we are his precious saints. Jesus will never be okay with death and one day, as Paul says, he will put death to death. “The last enemy to be destroyed is death.” The Last Day when Jesus returns and death will never touch you again.
Think about this: If the very core of the soul as we face death longs for love and forgiveness, wouldn’t you know the greatest true story ever told gives us exactly that? That Jesus himself tells you he loves you and that he has given you forgiveness full and free? The God of all, the first person you know you will see through that dark valley will have a smile of purest joy that will bring tears to your eyes, which he will prompt wipe away when he tells you your home. It’s the fearless life of faith, God’s grace has given you. To take our place at the side of Job and shout to our very souls, “I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand on the earth. And after my skin has been destroyed, yet in my flesh I will see God; I myself will see him with my own eyes—I, and not another. How my heart yearns within me! While we wait, by faith we are willing to grieve with hope. We wake up and are at peace; we laugh in the face of death and sing for joy for our rising day. If Jesus has you by the hand, you can sing. We stand beside the grieving as others funnel out of the funeral. We don’t run from hospice care. We sit with the dying. We no longer run from death, trying to push it off like the world. Christ is our hope in life and death.
I’ll leave you with this. During my first day of high school, my Grandpa Lehmann went home to Jesus. I had all these hopes of spending time with him, a man I looked up to tremendously, dashed, so much was going through my mind. As I tried to sleep that night, I had a dream I haven’t had since. In the dream, I was a hobbling, skinny, little old man, standing alone in a church, and I stared at the cross in front of the church and I started to sing these words, “Lord, let at last your angels come, to Abr’ham’s bosom bear me home that I may die unfearing; And then from death awaken me that these my eyes with joy may see, O Son of God, your glorious face, my Savior and my fount of grace. Lord Jesus Christ, my prayer attend, my prayer attend, and I will praise you without end.” The hymn “Lord, Thee I Love with All My Heart” captures the fearless life of the Christian. We rage against death, because we know we’ve already won, and we know the face waiting for us. It’s our same Jesus who will not only carry us through death, but one day will put to death to death, because he lives, you, me, we too shall live.
