1st Corinthians 15:55

  So, I need to make sure I have more time to post on this since I have several topics I’d like to write on, including a time traveling bathtub, but need to make sure I do things in the right order.

Which brings us to today’s post.

Death has always been a morbid fascination of mine ever since I was nine and my best friend died.  It has always struck me that this was not how God designed us to be, but was rather the unfortunate consequence of our choice to sin; marring the perfection of creation.  As I think back over the plethora of funerals I’ve attended I’ve been struck by two facts.

The first, and less profound, is that a funeral is not for the dead, but for the living.  To the dead, it doesn’t matter what happens to their body.  They have already entered into salvation or into judgment.  Instead, it is the living who have need for the funeral.  It is a time in which we are fully confronted with the reality of the individual’s death and a time in which we permit ourselves to say goodbye to our loved one.

The second fact is one which I especially noticed a week ago at my grandmother’s (dad’s mom) funeral just a week ago, almost to the hour.  There exists an undeniable, tangible difference between how a true Christian views death and how those without Christ, or even those who hope that maybe there is a Christ, view death.

To illustrate, allow me to present to you the death of my cousin Grant.  Grant is a believer and rejoices in heaven with the other saints, but at the end of his life he made his friendships with those who were not saved.  At his funeral they wept as those with no hope.  Those words just cannot accurately encompass the reality of the situation unless you have been in a similar situation.  It was not just a tragedy to them, it was a hopeless tragedy.  It is much like Hamlet throwing himself onto Ophelia’s coffin and demanding that he be buried along with her.

More than that however, there is even a difference between a person who claims to believe in Christ and a person who truly has been transformed by the regeneration of the cross.  While at my cousin’s funeral.  A friend of mine, approached me and stood by me for bit.  She hadn’t really known my cousin all that well, though she knew myself and my cousin’s sister, but she stood there and was tormented as one who was totally consumed by the fear of death.  To me, it was the most tragic part of the funeral.  Standing next to me was one who was claimed to trust in God but was wholly lacking in faith.

By was of contrast, however, I present my grandmother’s funeral.  I don’t know if I really saw anyone outside of her family there.  Some 50 people of Bennett and Blanton relation the majority (if not totality) of which have placed their faith in Christ.  And while we cried, it was not the uncontrolled weeping of hopelessness.  It was the sorrowful goodbye of two friends who are moving away from one another.

So allow me to come to the point of what I’m trying to say.  I’ve been to funerals of all sorts, from the very young, to the very old, from those of various religious beliefs and no religious beliefs.  And I have learned this very, very important fact: 

Belief, no matter how absolute, in a set of religious laws cannot begin to compare to a person who has been transformed by a faith in Christ Jesus when they are confronted by death.  This peace is not something that can be manufactured by “religiousness” nor can it EVER be found in a pill.  The evidence of the divine Creator is unequivocally displayed in each and every believer when they stand before death.

1st Corinthians 15:55 says, “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” It refers to the still future day when God restores the perfection of creation and gives us imperishable bodies.  So while we may still feel the sting of death (which verse 56 tells us is sin) as believes in Christ we know that death has already lost its victory for the redeemed.

1st Corinthians 15:55