Betty Ruth Blackman Funeral

“Why Should I Be Afraid?”1

Someone asked much-loved Episcopal bishop Warren Chandler, “Please tell me frankly, do you dread crossing the river of death?” He replied, “Why should I be afraid?” My father owns the land on both sides of the river.”

Death came into the world as a result of sin. And ever since it entered the wolrd it has enslaved men in fear. Why should we be afraid of death? Because we have sinned and we are aware of it. We do not want to face God in judgment. Like Adam, when we sin, we try to hide. And we cry out, “I was afraid.”

It is because one is not prepared that he has fears. The Bible says that “the sting of death is sin” (1 Cor. 15:56), and until we settle the sin problem, death remains something to be properly feared.

The fear of death keeps persons from living, not from dying. The Lord knows that and that’s why a part of the mission of Jesus was to deliver us from the fear of death.

The author of Hebrews writes, “For so much then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same; that through death he might destroyo him that had the power of death, that is, the devil; and deliver them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage” (Heb 2:14-15).

Destroy and deliver! That is what Jesus came to do. He came first to destroy the works of the devil. The Greek word translated “destroy” (1 John 3:8) is the same word used at Lazarus’ grave when Jesus said to “unloose him” and let him go. It is the same word used by Jesus when he said, “Destroy the temple and I will build it back in three days.” It is the same word used of the ship in the book of Acts that was about to break up in a storm. Jesus came to unravel, to break up, to tear down the works of the devil.

And, in so doing, he “delivered” us from the fear of death.

We cannot, of course, escape the experience of death but we can prepare for it. And because of Christ we no longer have to be terrorized by it.

Why does death frighten us so? Dr. Felix Martin Ibanez, M. D., who was once editor of the American Medical Association Journal, said the fear of death is rooted in three things: fear of pain; fear of separation; and fear of the unknown.

How then does Jesus deliver us from these things and thus the fear of death? In three ways:

He gives us a new concept of death.

He gives us the prospects of a glad reunion.

He gives us an understanding of the life beyond.

It is Easy to Die

First, Jesus delivers us from the fear of pain associated with death by giving us a new concept of death.

Before Jesus came, death had a fearful, penal aspect to it. But Jesus’ favorite word, indeed the favorite word of the entire New Testament for death of a Christian changed all that. It is the word “sleep.” It is used 13 times in Scripture.

What’s it like for a Christian to die? It is like going to sleep. Imagine a man coming home at the end of a hard day’s work, tired, exhausted. He washes up, takes off his shoes, leans back in his recliner to rest before supper, and nods off to sleep. There is nothing fearful about that, is there? No! Sleep, to a tired person, is a welcome friend. And that’s what it’s like for a Christian to die.

Eddie Rickenbacker was an authentic American hero. He first entered the spotlight as a dare-devil race driver. Then he became a legend as America’s top flying ace and a recipient of the medal of honor in World War I. Later he became a pioneer in the manufacturing and development of automobiles and airplanes. He endured the most dramatic survival epic of World War II when his plane went down in the Pacific and he and six other men survived 24 days on a raft.

In his dramatic career he had many brushes with death. Seven times, he said, his toes were inside the pearly gates. Rickenbacker was a devout Christian. He was raised in a godly home. He said he had no fear of death because of his confidence that God had led him in life and had prepared a place for him in heaven.

On February 26, 1941, while flying over Atlanta, his plane crashed. For several hours he lay pinned by the wreckage in the cold rain. When he was taken to the hospital he was close to death. He held on for three days, encased in plaster from chin to toe. “But,” he said, “I began to die. I felt the presence of death, and I knew that I was going. You may have heard that dying is unpleasant, but don’t you believe it. Dying is the sweetest, tenderest, most sensuous sensation I have ever experienced. Death comes disguised as a sympathetic friend. All was serene and calm. How wonderful it would be simply to float out of this world. It is easy to die. You have to fight to live.”

Why be afraid of death when the fear of pain is gone? And Jesus delivered us from that fear by giving us a new concept of death.

I’ll See You in the Morning

Second, Jesus delivers us from the fear of separation by giving us the prospects of a glad reunion.

In this world we quickly get attached to people and we don’t want to be separated from them. That is normal. Death represents separation. We fear death because we dread leaving our loved ones behind.

But Jesus gave us the hope of a glad reunion and a greater work to do in the life to come. And that hope keeps us from being afraid.

IN Catherine Marshall’s classic biography of her husband, A Man Called Peter, she eloquently describes how dark the night of grief can be---and how bright the new dawn of faith.

During the summer after Dr. Marshall’s death she returned to the summer cottage at Cape Cod, where everything from the boat in the yard to his old shoes under the bed spoke of him.

Seeking the solace of the sea, she headed beachward that first tempestuous, lonely evening. As she gazed across the water, she suddenly remembered the last works she had spoken to him. The scene was etched clearly in her mind. Peter was lying on the stretcher just inside the front door, waiting to be put in the ambulance. She leaned over and he whispered reassuringly, “Darling, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Her last line is the best: “And as I stood looking out toward that far horizon, I knew that those words would go singing in my heart down all the years… ‘see you, darling, see you in the morning.’”

That is our hope. When two people are Christians they never say good-bye for the last time. Our Lord gives us the hope of a glad reunion. Why should we be afraid of death?

I Have the Keys

Third, Jesus delivers us from the fear of death by giving us a new understanding of the life beyond.

Before Jesus came, death was a mystery. We wondered what lay beyond the grave. What was out there? Would we know one another? What would we do? We would never have known, except the strong Son of God walked into the grave and shined the searchlight of God into every nook and corner and came out and said, “Fear not, I am the first and the last. I am he that liveth and was dead; and behold, I am alive forevermore, amen; I have the keys of hell and death” (Rev. 1:17-18).

The one with the keys is the one who has control. Jesus wrestled the keys of death from Satan and now he teslls us not to be afraid.

What is the life to come like? He said to the thief on the cross, “Today thou shalt be with me in paradise.” He said to all of us, “Out beyond is the father’s house.” There is still much unknown. Why didn’t God tell us more? No words in any language can convey a true picture of the next life. Can you make a blind person understand what a sunset is like? Or a deaf person what great music is like? Besides, it would utterly spoil this life for us. If we could see it in all of its glory, we would never be happy here again.

But we know enough. There will be no tears there. No death there. No sorrow or pain there. No curse there. Former things will have passed away. It is the world we have dreamed of.

With this assurance, why should we be afraid?

Many years ago, Benjamin Harrison who later became the twenty-third president of the United States, was asked to deliver an address at a funeral service. When he arose to speak he said, “Last night, I was awakened by my little daughter who had arisen from her bed and made her way across the room and was stroking my face with her chubby hands. When I asked what she wanted, she said, ‘Papa, in the great big dark of the night I am lonely and afraid unless I can touch you...’ In the great big dark of the night of life’s bereavement, we are afraid unless we can reach out and touch God.”

The land beyond the grave is dark and we weld be afraid if we could not, by faith in Jesus, reach out and touch the Father. But we can. And when we do, we no longer are afraid.

1 Reproduced from The New Minister’s Manual, Paul W. Powell