Death, Grief and Hope

Focal Passage: Psalm 116:15

Of all the statistics Mr. Wallace shared with us in my sixth-grade social studies class back at Ropes Junior High—and Mr. Wallace loved his statistics—the only one I retained was that the life expectancy of an American male at the time was 72 years. For that 12-year-old back in the spring of 1966, 72 sounded old and seemed long enough.

I’m 72 and one-half years old today, living the last six months by those long remembered actuarial standards, on God’s borrowed time. Today, 72 feels young and those 60 extra years Mr. Wallace gave me decades ago feel woefully short of long enough.

Over the past several months, many of my family and friends have died. If it isn’t my personal loss, several of my family and friends have lost family and friends of their own. While most of those who passed away made it beyond that calculated number, a few were taken from this life far too soon.

The older we are the more we are confronted by death and the grief it brings. Grief, even for a Christian born again in the hope of Christ’s resurrection, is profoundly real.

British theologian C. S. Lewis married for the first and only time when he was in his mid-50s. Joy, his wife for only four short years, died of cancer. Shortly after her death, he wrote a book entitled A Grief Observed. He wrote, “No one ever told me grief felt so like fear.” Lewis said grief is forever tied to love. The deeper we love, the deeper the wound. He added, “Grief reveals how costly love is.”

I have reflected much over these past few months about the sadness I feel at times of death and the very real grief I know others are experiencing after losing ones they love. Grief is messy. It is not polite. It does not fit neatly into our theological narrative about “a better home awaiting.” Grief feels like shock, confusion and disorientation.

You can hear the anguish of the psalmist in Psalm 6:6…

I am worn out from groaning; all night long I flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with tears.

There is no one among us who cannot relate to the writer’s sense of loss.

Death, according to one commentary I read, occurs under God’s loving care and timing.

I’ll be honest with you here. I’m good with God’s loving care. I struggle sometimes with his timing. I don’t know if God routinely decides when it’s our time to go, but if he does, we’re going to have to talk about that when I see him. I often don’t understand death’s timing.

My Grandma Mills died when I was 13. My memories of her are all sweetness, love and Thanksgiving turkey. She gave such great hugs. She took care of the nursery at her church for years, loving on those babies like they were her own.

A well-meaning woman who attended Grandma’s memorial service told me afterwards that God must have needed her to “take care of those babies in heaven’s nursery.” I didn’t know whether I was hurt more by her insensitivity to the moment or by the thought that God took my grandmother because he needed her in his nursery. I needed her more.

Does our all-knowing and loving God know the number of days we will live? Yes, I believe scripture teaches us so. I find it difficult, however, to believe that an all-knowing and loving God planned for my grandmother to be killed by a drunk driver.

God didn’t create death in the beginning and call it “good.” Death and grief entered his creation as a consequence of human rebellion. Death became our reality when Adam ate his apple. Paul tells us that sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin. (Romans 5:12)

However, here’s the good news. Once sin entered the world, God maintained sovereignty and power over it. It is his power over death and grief that provides hope…not as wishful thinking…but hope as a blessed assurance of life in his presence for always and ever. God through Christ turns our present grief into future joy.

Even as he stared his own death in the face, Jesus, comforted and encouraged his disciples, acknowledging the certainty of what they would experience in the next few days.

I tell you the truth you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. (John 16:20)

I’ve spent the last eight weeks leading a Bible study at my church based on Jeremiah Johnston’s book A Body of Proof. While the book spent most of its pages outlining seven reasons to believe in the resurrection of Jesus, the Bible study guide spent most of its time focused on why the resurrection matters today.

While preparing for our last session, I came across an underlined verse in my Bible in Psalm 116, indicating I once read and noted it for some reason. Perhaps the last time I read it, death was more abstract than it is today because it landed with greater force this time. Read what it says…

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his faithful servants. (Psalm 116:15)

Putting it in its context, Psalm 116 is a personal testimony of deliverance and gratitude. The psalmist praises God for hearing his cries of distress and rescuing him from death itself. Verse 15 sits in the middle of that reflection of God’s care for the faithful, emphasizing his sovereign awareness and his covenant love even at the point of death.

This isn’t a detached theological statement, but a deeply personal assurance that God’s love extends into the reality of death whenever it comes.

I use the word precious sparingly in my everyday conversations. About the only time I utter it is in reference my granddaughters. They are precious…adorable…beloved. Obviously, that’s not how the word is used in this passage. Death is neither adorable nor beloved.

The Hebrew word for precious described in Psalm 116 means costly, weighty or rare in value. It seems to say that God does not take the death of his faithful ones lightly or trivially. God assigns great value to the death of His people—not because death itself is good, but because it matters deeply to Him and is tenderly regarded by him.

Jesus, God’s own son, wept at the death of Lazarus and the anguish and grief of Lazarus’ sisters despite knowing what was about to happen. His tears reveal how much God values human life and especially the lives of those who trust in him.

That’s why in one of his parables about a good and faithful servant Jesus calls us to Come and share your master’s happiness. (Matthew 25:21) It’s also why Paul tells Timothy that he has fought the good fight and there is ready for him a crown of righteousness that will be awarded by the Lord when he dies.

God regards as valuable the life of one who has served him until death. He regards as equally valuable the death of one who has served him through life.

There’s another interesting phrase the psalmist uses in this passage that I find heartwarming.

…in the sight of the Lord…

Jesus tells us God knows when the sparrow falls and he knows the number of hairs on our head. Surely, then, God is keenly aware when one of his children dies. Think about that. When the psalmist said, in the sight of the Lord, that means no believer dies unnoticed or alone. No passing is random or outside the care of God, even if it happens suddenly or unexpectedly.

God is not distant. In the sight of the Lord means he is attentive and present at the time of death. I find that both incredible and incredibly comforting. The death of any believer matters to our Creator God.

Going back to Psalms 116, God can deliver from death. When he doesn’t deliver, he holds us in his presence. Immediately. In the moment that passes between physical death there comes a new awareness. In that instant, we are with him.

That’s why I find joy in a statement Paul makes to the believers in Rome.

For none of us lives to himself alone and none of us dies to himself alone. If we live, we live to the Lord; and if we die, we die to the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord. For this very reason, Christ died and returned to life so that he might be the Lord of both the dead and the living. (Romans 14:7-9)

It’s true. I’ve lived more years than that old social studies book predicted. Every day now is, as they say in Louisiana, “lagniappe”…a bonus, an unexpected gift, a little something extra. Each day is a gift of grace from God.

He has caused us to be born again into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. (I Peter 1:3)

Like Peter, we can live in that hope. If you are a believer and have put your faith and trust in Jesus, your hope, your assurance, given its certainty in the resurrection of Christ.

That is why the resurrection of Jesus matters. Because of my faith in the resurrection, I know I will share in its promises of atonement, peace and hope for this present day.

Because of the resurrection power given to me by the spirit, I can continue to serve God for as long as he allows me to do so.

Because of resurrection hope, whenever I breathe my last breath, I know I will find myself immediately in the arms of the loving Lord who holds my life and death precious not just in that moment, but for all eternity.

It is a hope in which every believer can rest and rejoice.

Thinking Points

How does Psalm 116:15 reshape my understanding of how God regards the death of His people?

 

In what ways does the resurrection of Jesus give me hope not only for today’s grief, but for all eternity?

 

What would it look like to live each “lagniappe” day in resurrection hope? How would it change your approach to grace and purpose?