STANDING IN THE FACE OF DEATH

STANDING IN THE FACE OF DEATH Hebrews 4:14-18, Hebrews 9:26a-28 September 24,  2000 Given by: Pastor Rich Bersett [Index of Past Messages] Introductory In the past two weeks we as a congregation have weathered two very difficult events-the death of little Caleb Ingerson from sudden heart failure, and the death of Beth Butler from a devastating cancer. In both cases we were surprised. Caleb at age 3 had weathered so much as he bravely faced congenital heart problems and the complications of having contracted HIV and full blown AIDS from a blood transfusion during surgery a year ago. Having survived his latest surgery in such miraculous fashion and amazing not only his family but also his doctors with his speedy recovery and his vibrant health and energy in the past few weeks, the shock of his sudden death was particularly acute. Then, on Friday, our beloved Beth Butler succumbed to the ravages of the cancer that had virtually exploded in her body in the past six months. I can remember her and Jim leading us in worship here in this auditorium last March, and I can remember thinking "Wow, what a sweet sense of worship there is in this place this morning!" and I thanked the Lord for the gifts and the prayerful preparation Beth had put into her role as worship leader. If you had told me then that in the next seven months a sudden and terrible cancer would take her life I simply would not have believed it. I want to drop in a pastoral encouragement to this church family. You folks have shown the love of Christ to these two families in a powerful and tender way. I have been so blessed and proud of the way the family of God has responded to two of their own families who are weathering these tragedies. But such events can leave us, the survivors, feeling as though they have been run over by a steamroller. I thought it was right to drop my planned message on Discipleship and take these few minutes this morning to deal with the issue of the hour. Join me in the reading of a pair of texts out of the book of Hebrews. The first is chapter 9, verses 26a through 28; then chapter 4, verses 14-18. HEBREWS 9:26a-28: "But now [Christ] has appeared once for all at the end of the ages to do away with sin by the sacrifice of himself. Just as man is destined to die once, and after that to face judgment, so Christ was sacrificed once to take away the sins of many people; and he will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring salvation to those who are waiting for him." HEBREWS 4:14-16: "Since the children have flesh and blood, he [Christ] too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might destroy him who holds the power of death-that is, the devil-and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death. For surely it is not angels he helps, but Abraham's descendants." Joseph Bayly, a great Christian leader and author now in heaven, was flying from Chicago to the city of Los Angeles. He engaged the woman sitting next to him in conversation. She was a little over 40, well dressed, and quite articulate. He asked, "Where are you from?" She said, "From Palm Springs." Knowing Palm Springs to be a city of the rich and famous, he asked, "What's Palm Springs like?" Being perceptive, she answered, "Palm Springs is a beautiful place filled with unhappy people." Taking advantage of the occasion, he pressed the question, "Are you unhappy?" She said, "Yes, I certainly am." "Why?" he asked. She said, "I can answer it in one word, and that word is mortality. Until I was 40, I had perfect eyesight. Shortly after, I went to the doctor because I couldn't see as well as I could before. Ever since that time, these corrective glasses have been a sign to me that not only are my eyes wearing out, but I'm wearing out. Some day I'm going to die. I really haven't been happy since that time." As someone has said, "The only certainty in life is death." And it is a true statement, because the Bible says it's true. The popular expression is that the only thing certain in life is death and taxes. Someone quipped, "I wish they came in that order!" When our Joni is watching one of her Disney movies and one of the bad guy characters come onto the screen, she gets up and leaves the room saying, "I don't like that part!" When death imposes itself into our lives through the loss of someone close or even the threat of their death, we'd like to just edit it out and say, "I don't like this part." One time a warden asked a man on death row what he would like to eat for his last meal. The inmate said, "I would like to have a huge piece of watermelon." The warden said, "You must be kidding? This is December. Watermelons have not been planted, let alone harvested." The inmate said, "That's okay, I don't mind waiting." The Bible is clear - we're all on death row. Death is a very real part of life and it's here to stay. It is an irreversible judgment on all of us in God's created world because of sin. One of the early church fathers, Augustine of Hippo, said, "As when medical men examine an illness, and ascertain that it is fatal, they make this pronouncement, 'He will die, he will not get over this,' so from the moment of a man's birth, it may be said, 'He will not get over this.'" As much as we'd like to deny it, death is real and inescapable. But the world is in denial. It's what one author calls "the modern taboo." I read an article recently that said that we now wear on our T-shirts things we used to not tell our analysts. Isn't that the truth? Look at the messages on some T-shirts and bumper stickers. I was gratified to see something as I drove in Collinsville about a week ago. A police officer had a young man in a hot black car pulled over. On the back windshield were a couple of words that were absolutely profane by anyone's definition. But the officer had the young man out there on the side of the road scraping the offensive decal off with a razor blade! I clapped. How open our society is about so many things! It wasn't very long ago that you didn't talk about such things, especially in mixed company. Now, in the age of Jerry Springer, it seems that anything goes--except for one subject. You know what the modern taboo is? Death, don't talk to people about death. They don't want to talk about it. But I want to suggest that of all issues that ought not to be taboo, it is death. The Christian is uniquely prepared to talk about death because, through faith in Jesus Christ, he is prepared for death. Jesus has gone there for us, and has made it not an end, but a beginning, for us. Professional golfer Paul Azinger was diagnosed with cancer at age 33. He had just won a PGA championship and had ten tournament victories to his credit. He wrote, "A genuine feeling of fear came over me. I could die from cancer. Then another reality hit me even harder. I'm going to die eventually anyway, whether from cancer or something else. It's just a question of when. Everything I had accomplished in golf became meaningless to me. All I wanted to do was live." Then he remembered something that Larry Moody, who teaches a Bible study on the tour, had said to him. "Zinger, we're not in the land of the living going to the land of the dying. We're in the land of the dying trying to get to the land of the living." Golfer Paul Azinger recovered from chemotherapy and returned to the PGA tour. He's done pretty well. But that bout with cancer deepened his perspective. He wrote, "I've made a lot of money since I've been on the tour, and I've won a lot of tournaments, but that happiness is always temporary. The only way you will ever have true contentment is in a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. I'm not saying that nothing ever bothers me and I don't have problems, but I feel like I've found the answer to the six-foot hole." We have comfort in the face of the inevitable fatal disease. Sure we grieve-but not, the Bible says, as those who have no hope. I remember talking with Beth about her impending death-and Jim and I reminisced over this several times in the past two weeks-and she said, "I'm not afraid of death. What scares me is the pain." I suggest that is a very healthy perspective for the Christian-hope in the face of our final enemy, because Christ has won our victory, but no denial of the very real fears about the passage process. In a sense, we are all in denial about death. And for the person who is terminal, like those who grieve over the loss of someone, denial is a very real part of the process. Christians tend to go through a unique kind of denial, precisely because they know God's power and compassion. Our form of religious denial of death is, ironically, faith. As soon as we hear of sickness, especially terminal sickness, our first instinct is to pray and believe God will bring complete healing. I'm not saying that is bad-it's a good thing to desire the best and to trust in God. After all,. We've witnessed His power to heal many times. He has befuddled doctors and theologians alike. The hard reality is God does not always heal. Everyone dies. Most of us become ill, and God does not always heal us. In fact (you won't disown me if I get real honest here?), He heals less frequently than He doesn't heal in this life. When he does heal, we love Him for it. When He doesn't, how do we feel? If you feel depressed or angry with God, it's perfectly normal, but if that anger continues, there is something wrong. In that case we had unreal expectations of God. When he does heal He seems to give a gift of faith a certain knowledge to intercessors who are praying for the sick person. Some people think He always tells them He is going to heal the sick person. But He doesn't. In that case, the person of faith takes on themselves a disappointment they should not take on.  They look for reasons or rationalizations. The most cruel of those rationalizations is to bring blame to the sick person or others around them. "You just don't have enough faith!" I am thankful for the maturity of this body of believers, that such callous and inexcusable things are not pinned on one another. When faith is immature, it feels like it cannot allow God to allow suffering. But He does. Among the less than mature Christians, there is an unfounded belief that we have a right to be pain-free and comfortable, precisely because we are believers. After all, Christ took our sufferings for us on the cross! So, if we suffer, the logic goes, we are not claiming all Jesus has provided for us. Another cruel comment. I have actually visited with believers who themselves had been suffering with an affliction for years who said of another Christian who was suffering, "Oh, I wish they had stronger faith-they don't have to suffer like this!" The ultimate denial. When confronted with their own suffering, they say, "Oh, I'm healed, I'm confessing it, this trouble isn't real-the healing is on its way." The real trouble with this alleged "faith thinking" is that, in the middle of the denial, the person is not allowed to admit the truth-"I hurt!" And in the process, they may be missing the growth opportunity that the suffering is designed to bring them. By the way, maturity and purification are the Bible's explanation for why we suffer. Let's not miss God's purpose in what He allows to come our way. But, what about the poor person who actually dies? Is that fair of God? How could He let that happen? Let's get personal-how could God allow Beth to so quickly be overcome with this cancer and die? If ever we knew a dedicate Christian, a servant of the Lord, it was Beth Butler. How could He let this happen to her? And Caleb-how that little guy suffered. And then, just when it looked like he was getting better, he dies suddenly. How could God let that happen to him? I wonder how Beth and Caleb would answer these questions where they are right now? If we could separate the veil between us and the eternal for just a moment and get their perspective, what would they say? Judging from what the Bible says about our hope and what awaits us after this life, I think they might tell us something like this: Beth might say, "Healed? You wish I had been healed? Friends, you can't possibly comprehend what I now know about healing. Here, in the presence of the Lord every promise has come gloriously true. Here I know what it means that by Jesus' wounds we are healed. Please understand that what awaits you here on the other side of the door we call death is so much greater than anything imaginable on earth. Remember what I said about the being afraid of the pain? I can't even remember it!" And Caleb, what might he have to say? Maybe he'd tell us that the joy of the Lord was his strength on earth, but to be in His presence is awesome. He might tell us how perfectly wonderful it is to have a new body and a perfected ability to praise the Lord without ceasing. He might even be able to stretch his memory and comment about how it was great that the Lord took him home so quickly, and he never did have to face a long stretch of struggle with a heart that would never be able to keep up with his growth, and never have to go through the impending trials of growing up with AIDS. I think they might both encourage us with the same words as Paul received from heaven: "I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us." Or, When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, then the saying that is written comes true: 'Death has been swallowed up in victory!'" Maybe they would just remind us of the truth of our text, By His death, Jesus did destroy the devil who holds the power of death. Therefore He has delivered us from our slavery by the fear of death. Maybe they'd tell us that death may look foreboding, but it is really only a doorway into the glory of God which is unimaginably wonderful. Maybe they'd remind us how very short life is compared to the eternity they are enjoying. Maybe they'd tell us they do understand our grief, but that it won't be long until it will vanish, because where we're going, it's true that there is no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. Maybe they'd encourage us to stay committed to living for Jesus, because, as hard as it may get, it will be worth it all. Maybe they'd tell us, stay true to your mission, and bring as many as you can with you. Dr. Donald Gray Barnhouse was one of America's greatest preachers. His first wife died from cancer when she was in her thirties, leaving three young children. Barnhouse chose to preach the funeral sermon himself. Now that would be unthinkably difficult. But the thing he struggled with the most was what to tell his children. On his way to the funeral service, he was driving with his children, when a large truck passed them on the highway. As it passed it cast a dark shadow over their car. The preacher turned to his oldest daughter who was staring disconsolately out the window, and asked her, "Tell me, sweetheart, would you rather be run over by a truck or by its shadow?" "By the shadow, I guess. It can't hurt you." Barnhouse said to the three children, "Your mother has not been overrun by death, but by the shadow of death. There is nothing to fear." Bruce Thielemann tells this story in his work Christus Imperatus Imagine a colony of grubs living on the bottom of a swamp. And every once in a while, one of these grubs is inclined to climb a leaf stem to the surface. Then he disappears above the surface and never returns. All the grubs wonder why this is so and what it must be like up there, so they counsel among themselves and agree that the next one who goes up will come back and tell the others. Not long after that, one of the grubs feels that urge and climbs that leaf stem and goes out above the surface onto a lily pad. And there in the warmth of the sun, he falls asleep. While he sleeps, the carapace of the tiny creature breaks open, and out of the inside of the grub comes a magnificent dragonfly with beautiful, wide, rainbow-hued, iridescent wings. And he spreads those wings and flies, soaring out over those waters. But then he remembers the commitment he has made to those behind, yet now he knows he cannot return. They would not recognize him in the first place, and beyond that, he could not live again in such a place. But one thought is his that takes away all the distress: they, too, shall climb the stem, and they, too, shall know the glory. A church secretary in Kent, Washington, named Diana Estes published a cute story in The Christian Reader recently. "Our former pastor would occasionally go on a personal retreat to pray and seek God's direction for his ministry. During one retreat, someone called the church office and asked, 'May I speak with the pastor?' I replied, 'I'm sorry, he's gone to be with the Lord.' There was a long silence on the other end. Then I realized what I had said, and added, 'But he'll be back next week!'" The Bible says that to be absent from the flesh is to be present with the Lord. And, do you know what? Once we're there, we won't want to come back! Before his novels The Firm, Pelican Brief, and The Client catapulted John Grisham to the status of "commercial supernova"--as Newsweek called him--he was an unknown, small-town lawyer. Today, with all the notoriety, Grisham makes a concerted effort to focus on things that have lasting meaning, including his faith in God. Grisham remembers, as a young law student, the remarkable advice of a friend: One of my best friends in college died when he was 25, just a few years after we graduated from Mississippi State University. I was in law school, and he called me one day and wanted to get together. So we had lunch, and he told me he had cancer. I couldn't believe it. "What do you do when you realize you are about to die?" I asked. "It's real simple," he said. "You get things right with God, and you spend as much time with those you love as you can. Then you settle up with everybody else." Finally he said, "You know, really, you ought to live every day like you have only a few more days to live." Grisham says he never forgot those words Dr. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross made a great contribution to the understanding of death and dying, but her conclusions stand in stark contrast to the hope of the Christian. In an interview she was asked if a patient's religious orientation affected his view toward resignation in the end. She answered, "I have known very few really religious people. The few I have known-and I mean those with a deep intrinsic faith-have it much easier [as they face death]." Just two days before she died I was at Beth's bedside. She was not able any longer to communicate, so I just sat and read some scriptures to her as I held her hand. Suddenly she made a moaning noise and I looked up. She had her hand raised straight up in the air and she was moving her lips, her eyes suddenly wide open. I could easily read her lips. She was saying "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus." Jesus is your only hope of surviving the judgment that comes at death. Because He died for your sins, you can live with Him for eternity. What faces those who have no hope through Christ the Bible clearly calls, The Second Death-eternal separation from God. If you will trust Him, that hope can be yours. Not only that, but He will deliver you from your fear of death.     [Back to Top]