When Death Still Stings February 6th

Death and taxes. Both sting, both are inevitable, both seem like an injustice. As I sift through a new wave of the underlying emotions and realities that 2012 brought, death has been quite central. Not simply the sheer number of people around me—family, friends, acquaintances, school children—but its reality. It really is inevitable, the last phase of life on earth. For those of us with faith in Jesus, we are called to not mourn as those who do not have hope (of eternal life with Jesus in heaven). But what does our mourning look like? Mourning with hope does not mean we mask the reality of loss; the pain, the grief, the million habitual actions that die along with our loved one. No, I think mourning with hope actually gives us a freedom to experience and express each of those aspects of loss. It frees us up to enter into grief—all its tears, pangs, anger, maddening sadness—because we know that it is not all there is. There IS hope.

                Similarly, the apostle Paul, in his letter to the Corinthians, assures us that “⁵⁴ When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: “Death has been swallowed up in victory.” ⁵⁵ “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?”  ⁵⁶ The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. ⁵⁷ But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Cor. 15, NIV).

                This is the hope when death stings. Goodness, it stings. Can we all admit that? Stop with the platitudes of “he’s not suffering anymore”, “she’s in a better place” and be brave enough to enter into the reality of the sting? Those sayings may be true—but that doesn’t mean that death doesn’t sting for us. Stuffing the suffering brings no benefit. Jesus wept—we can too. All too often I think we see suffering and hope as antithesis when it comes to death. Like oil and water they can’t possibly be mixed, it’s all or nothing. I just don’t think that’s the case. We can grieve because we have hope. One day we will see the victory over death. The imperishable will clothe. When that time comes we will be able to fervently say “death where is your victory? Death, where is your sting?”

                But until that day, until we are reunited, whole, clothed—it’s okay to grieve, to admit that death stings. The sting of death IS sin. On earth, we will never fully escape the effects of sin—that is the death that stings. Sin puts to death so much—dreams, love, hope, contentment—and ultimately, life. Sin stings. Death stings. Let the reality of this propel us to hope, to the foot of the cross, the One who has swallowed up death and its sting.

                So what do we do when death stings? We admit it, we grieve, and we trust in the hope that awaits us, not by denying the pain but by clinging to the Cross.