The defeat of death (2)

To me, to live is Christ, to die is gain… Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two; I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far, but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body. Philippians 1:21-24

It’s always good to get feedback on a post I have written. (There’s a hint there, by the way.) So thanks especially today to Bill Jones, who had something to say about Paul’s desire to “depart and be with Christ” which I recently commented on. (I published that on May 5, if you’re interested in looking back.)

I had said how humbled I always felt on reading Paul’s words, because they are so far removed from how I feel. I want to go on living, thank you very much! Death doesn’t appeal in the least. So Paul’s preference for death made me feel how very unspiritual I must be, how lacking in real love for Jesus and in real faith in the joys of eternal life.

But Bill points out that there could be a much less “spiritual” reason for his readiness to die: namely, that he had simply reached a point in his life when he was “ready to go”.

This reminded me of a really old lady I used to visit many years ago. She was confined to her home, broken down in body, and often in pain. But her faith continued to burn brightly, and every time we prayed she would say, “Oh Colin, please ask the Lord would take me!” Which, of course, I did – and which, of course, he did. (It was nice to be able to pray a prayer where you could be sure of a fairly prompt answer!)

For some thirty years Paul had been burning himself out in his service for Jesus. As I said last time, he had experienced a massive battering, both physically (beatings, floggings, imprisonments and more) and psychologically (not least his “concern for all the churches”, 2 Corinthians 11:28). So what could be more natural than that, as he got old, he should be feeling that perhaps the time had come – and that he was well ready to welcome it?

(Bill’s comments also reminded me that we shouldn’t turn people into “super-saints” – even the great characters we meet in the Bible like Paul. No: even the finest Christians are also weak and flawed human beings, probably far more like the rest of us than we realise.

In practical terms this might apply to us when it comes to big-name writers or preachers who mean a lot to us. Putting it simply: don’t put them on a pedestal! – very possibly the day will come when you feel disappointed and disillusioned with them.)

Of course, the New Testament is full of the hope of resurrection and the certainty of eternal life. But that doesn’t mean that the first Christians viewed death in a shallow or unrealistic way. No; it was still an “enemy”, as Paul describes it in 1 Corinthians 15, and therefore unwelcome under most circumstances. Two New Testament examples make this clear.

First, think of Stephen. He was the first Jesus-follower (the word “Christian” hadn’t yet been coined) to die. He was murdered by a mob of religious zealots (Acts 6:8-8:3), and Luke tells us that “godly men buried him and mourned deeply for him”.

We don’t know if Stephen was young or old, married or single, a father or childless. And we can’t help but wonder what great things he might have accomplished for God if he had lived for another twenty years – an equal to Peter, Paul and the rest, perhaps? But whatever, the certainty of life beyond the grave didn’t take away from the sadness of premature and cruel death. There was no forced jollity, no shallow rejoicing, certainly no “brave” refusal to grieve; but a proper dignity and recognition of “the last enemy”.

And then, of course, there’s Epaphroditus. (What do you mean, Who’s Epaphroditus?) In the very same letter in which Paul has expressed his readiness to die, we meet a man who didn’t die, but whose recovery from dire illness is described by Paul as a “mercy”: Epaphroditus “was ill, and almost died. But God had mercy on him…” (Philippians 2:27).

And you think to yourself, “Hang on a minute, Paul – one minute you are speaking of dying as a ‘gain’, as being ‘better by far’ than living, and now here you are talking of not dying as a mercy from God! You can’t have it both ways!”

Is Paul contradicting himself? Not at all. He was under no illusions about the sadness and trauma of death, and he was simply happy that Epaphroditus and the church in Philippi were spared that. So while in chapter one it’s perfectly natural to rejoice at the prospect of death, in chapter two it’s equally natural to rejoice at deliverance from death.

The Bible (this shouldn’t surprise us) is giving us a perfect balance. We shrink from death: that’s entirely natural and right. But by faith we also welcome death: that’s a gift of God’s grace.

How do we maintain that balance until our last day on earth? – ah, that is something for which we must quietly pray to our loving Father in heaven.

Lord Jesus, you passed through the sadness and sorrow of death. But then you triumphantly left it behind you as a defeated enemy. As I hold your hand by faith, help me to know that that is my destiny also. Amen.