Death

 I want to briefly pause from further discussing the tangential issues of regulative and normative principles of Scripture. This pause is because I know the events of this past week and the funerals are weighing heavily upon many of your hearts and minds. And there are those among us who have other losses in their personal lives too.

Often, our view of death has been formed by the culture more than we know. We can get a little cheeky in how talk about death. We try to downplay it or talk about it as though we can completely comprehend it. Sometimes, we get caught up in the moment and start talking as though the person no longer exists. Even I am guilty of speaking of someone in the past tense; however, that isn't a very Christian way of talking. So, I want to take a moment and reflect on a small concept that might help to orient ourselves rightly.

In John 11 verses 11-14, Jesus says, "Our friend Lazarus sleepeth; but I go, that I may awake him out of sleep. Then said his disciples, Lord, if he sleep, he shall do well. Howbeit Jesus spake of his death: but they thought that he had spoken of taking of rest in sleep. Then said Jesus unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead." The scriptural reference of death as sleep is not unique to Lazarus; in fact, Christ used it with others whom he had raised from the dead. This way of talking should not have surprised the people of Christ's day, as it was a common way of referring to death in the Old Testament.

But why does Scripture link death and sleep together? The people were not naive, they knew what death was. Now, surely, there was a development of thought from the time of Moses to Christ; however, the fact that this is how Christ speaks is significant. He draws on this way of speaking about death because it rightly grasps an oft-forgotten reality, that death is not the end. They are but awaiting the resurrection of the dead. It is true, in death there is a deep loss, but the loss is not that of existence. The pain felt is, in part, the reality that this is not the way it is supposed to be. But by maintaining the scriptural language of "having fallen asleep in the Lord" (1 Cor. 15) we grasp onto the hope of the Resurrection and the reality that our loved ones are alive in Christ and join in the heavenly host and church triumphant.

Origen of Alexandria once wrote, “The death of the righteous is not to be lamented, but rather rejoiced at. For it is not a destruction but a change of place. The soul is not extinguished, but rather translated from this world to another. It is like sleep, in which the soul is at rest from the labors and sorrows of this life. But it is not a sleep of annihilation, but a sleep of refreshment and consolation, in the hope of the resurrection.” Let us share in the hope won by Christ, that we shall one day be reunited with our brothers and sister who have now fallen asleep in the Lord.

I want to simply end by quoting the poem, "Death" by George Herbert followed by the hymn "Glory to thee, my God, this night" by the Anglican Bishop Thomas Ken, often sung to the Tallis Canon.

"Death" by George Herbert

Death, thou wast once an uncouth hideous thing,/ Nothing but bones,/ The sad effect of sadder grones:/ Thy mouth was open but thou couldst not sing.

For we consider’d thee as at some six/ Or ten years hence,/ After the loss of life and sense,/ Flesh being turn’d to dust, and bones to sticks.

We looked on this side of thee, shooting short;/ Where we did find/ The shells of fledge souls left behind,/ Dry dust, which sheds no tears, but may extort.

But since our Saviours death did put some blood/ Into thy face;/ Thou are grown fair and full of grace,/ Much in request, much sought for, as a good.

For we do now behold thee gay and glad,/ As at dooms-day:/ When souls shall wear their new array,/ And all thy bones with beauty shall be clad.

Therefore we can go die as sleep, and trust/ Half that we have/ Unto an honest faithful grave;/ Making our pillows either down, or dust.

Anglican Hymn written by Bishop Thomas Ken

Glory to thee, my God, this night for all the blessings of the light; keep me, O keep me, King of kings, beneath thy own almighty wings.

Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son, the ill that I this day have done, that with the world, myself, and thee, I, ere I sleep, at peace may be.

Teach me to live, that I may dread the grave as little as my bed; teach me to die, that so I may rise glorious at the aweful day.

O may my soul on thee repose, and with sweet sleep my eyelids close, sleep that may me more vigorous make to serve my God when I awake.

When in the night I sleepless lie, my soul with heavenly thoughts supply; let no ill dreams disturb my rest, no powers of darkness me molest.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow, praise him, all creatures here below, praise him above, angelic host, praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Grace and Peace,
Fr. Aaron