Death Is An Enemy

When my dog died, I could not believe the grief that hit my heart. My wife felt it too. It was irrational. Gracie was just a dog! But for eight years after we adopted her, she won our hearts with her courage and loyalty. We loved her as much as she loved us. “Who rescued who?” the bumper sticker reads. The impact of her death was traumatic. It felt like innocence lost, love frustrated, eternity cut short, nobility sunk into dismal dust. Affection gave way to the grip of age and death. I hated it. I really, really hate death.

Robin Roberts on Good Morning America, having survived two types of cancer, the death of her mother and the death of her father, said her personal trauma was greatest when her pet dog, a faithful companion of 18 years, recently died. Emotions don’t have to be rational to be real. We can understand that, can’t we?

I remember when my mother died. It was Mother’s Day, 1980. Everyone else had left the hospital and I was left alone with her. I was holding her hand, a solitary vigil. Her breathing was labored. Her faith-filled heart of prayerful love had almost beaten its last beat. I cried when it stopped. Needing solace, some human comfort, I hugged the nurse and cried on her shoulder when she came into the room. The heart monitor had hit its dreadful flat line. The whole world knew that she was officially dead. But for me, the hand-off to heaven was personal and very real.

When my father passed, the pain was not so severe since I had distanced myself from him. I had cut off my emotions so that his alcoholic syndrome could not infect me. But after he accepted Christ at the hospital (a miracle!) he was different. My heart opened back up to him, having forgiven him of the insults he had afflicted on our family.

I hate death. Death is an enemy. It is a real enemy of humanity, the final dreaded assault on our material ties to this world. It insults our dignity, defies our humanity, lies about our eternity, and robs us of those we love the most. It is an insult. We humans need a “glorified body” that is not subject to death. Jesus promises us a body like his one day!

Recently my son felt death’s raw sting for the first time. His best friend from childhood expired unexpectedly, found by his young wife, lying dead from a heart attack.

My son writes, “Paul was one of my closest friends since childhood. He passed a few days ago and I am shocked, saddened, and still processing it. We had just spoken days ago. No one enjoyed bantering about the mundane, movies, Apple, or crazy ideas as much as Paul and me. He was Best Man in my wedding. He was a dear brother, a true friend through space and time. As kids, there wasn’t a creek, a roof, or a sleepover that we missed. In our teens and 20s, we got into more trouble than I want my kids to read about. Later in life as distance grew, we remained close. If you saw one of us you, usually you saw us together. We were Rambo. We were C.H.i.P.s. We were Kirk and Spock. We were Goonies. And we still are. Paul left a fingerprint on my life that will never fade. Miss you, man!”

Grieving over someone’s death is normal, human and necessary. Don’t belittle tears of grief because they testify that life counts, that people matter, that love is real, and that humanity counts in the annals of history before God and man. People do matter.

Our Savior, the Lord Jesus, tasted death for every man. He drank the bitter cup of death’s foul brew. From the cross, he triumphed over death, shook off its horrible grip, and after three days rose up alive forever more from the grave. He has given to us an eternal shout of victory: “Because I live, you shall live also!” We are partakers of the resurrection life that he purchased for us as believers.

While many people tout the religious philosophies of various gurus, I choose to stay with the only One who can raise me from the dead — my Lord Jesus. No one else has passed through death like Jesus. No one else has proven that eternal life is real.