In the TV series 1883’s final episode, a young Elsa Dutton, having been mortally wounded by an Indian’s arrow, watched a jack rabbit munching on some grass with not a care in the world, and asked: “What is death? What is this thing we all share? Rabbits. Birds. Horses. Trees. Everyone I love. And everyone who loves me. Even stars die. And we know absolutely nothing of it.”
For some reason, those words haunted me.
For much of my life, I have been relatively sheltered from death. Going to funerals sums up the vast majority of my experience.
In the last two years, I have had to look at death directly in the face. Not my own, but in others.
In the fall of 2020, during the COVID craze, I lost my dad. I was recovering from a double-whammy case of COVID and pneumonia which hospitalized me for a week and which included one night in intensive care.
Two months later, my sister passed, having suffered from Sepsis. She was 56—the same age as I am now.
In both occasions, I stood by their bedside the moment they slipped away. I saw the moment their eyes faded into that million mile stare and they expelled their last breath here on earth. I watched their struggling bodies simply cease all movement.
For me, this was traumatizing.
I experienced again recently, only this time with my thirteen-year-old dachshund. I was up most of the night watching her seize many times. I could see her organs shutting down. We got her to the vet the moment they opened. Again, I saw seizing body abruptly cease movement and the life go out of her eyes. Yet again, I witnessed her last breath.
And a plethora of past emotions utterly overwhelmed me.
I have been struggling with the idea of death the last couple of years. There’s 40-year-oldnothing fair about it. We don’t get to choose to enter into this thing called life, yet we all have to endure loved ones ripped from us through death, over and again, until we have to ultimately face it ourselves.
It seems such a senseless part of creation. It feels like a violent tearing away.
But it was never meant to be a part of creation in the first place.
In my head, I can recite the theology. Death is now a reality in the universe because of the first human’s desire to be like God and choose for themselves—ourselves—to be like God. We wanted to be the ones who decided to come up with our own definitions of good and evil.
And, contrary to the serpent’s promise to Eve that she wouldn’t die, death is a part of the universe.
Everything dies: a loved one, a close friend, even a beloved pet.
And even though Paul taunts death in his letter to the church in Corinth—“Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” (1 Corinthians 15:55)—death still stings.
There’s no getting around that.
As the aforementioned fictional character Elsa concluded: everything dies. We will face feel death’s tearing away sooner or later.
That seems pretty hopeless.
If everything and everyone dies, and death is one percent fatal, then what’s the point?
Why exist?
Why strive?
Why love?
Because for the Christ-follower, there is hope.
When Jesus left the tomb on the third day, he conquered death. When Paul asks where is death’s sting, he is looking to the not-yet. Death was no longer the final word.
However, we still live in the now.
Despite the different interpretations in the body of Christ, all would agree that the biblical worldview springs from scripture which tells God’s story in three acts.
Act One is Creation. Act Two is the Fall. And the third act is Redemption.
Act One provides the answer to the worldview questions: who are we? And what is our purpose? Humanity was created imago dei, in the image of God. We’re not God, but we are reflections of him. Our purpose is seen in Genesis 2, when the man and woman cared for the Garden of Eden and were in deep relationship with God. You will find Act Two in Genesis 1-2.
Act Two is the Fall, answering the worldview question: what’s wrong? It explains why the universe is so broken and chaotic. It also explains how and why death came into the world. Death entered into the second act, which means death was never a part of the original creation. This is why death stings so violently. Act Two covers Genesis 3-11.
Then come Act Three—Redemption. This is all about God restoring the Universe prior to Genesis 3. Through promises and covenants, God works within sinful humanity to redeem creation.
Here’s the amazing thing about Act Three: it starts with God telling him to go from his comfort zone and go to a foreign land. With this command comes the promise of being the father of a new nation (Genesis 12:1-4). Ultimately it is through Abraham’s seed that the Savior and Redeemer will come.
That act of redemption, starting with Abraham, climaxes in the life, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus. Amazingly, Act Three continues on from the resurrection, through Acts and all the way through Revelation, which has yet to happen.
One fascinating thing to take out of this is the Third Act covers all but the first eleven chapters of the Bible. In other words, the Bible is primarily about God’s redemptive work.
However, another point to come out of this is the book of Revelation hasn’t happened yet. In other words, we’re still living in Act Three. We are living in the now, not the not-yet.
That is why death still stings, contrary to Paul’s claim. Paul’s statement is true. Death has been defeated. Victory has been won through the cross and resurrection of Jesus.
But we are still in the battle. From Abraham to the present, everyone had to experience the sting of death. And we will continue to do so.
But only for a time.
And in this, the follower of Jesus has hope.
Death will continue to tear at creation. In the now. But we have the not-yet to look forward to.
I wish there was a better immediate answer to the pain of death.
However, even though it is present, the final outcome is not. Unlike the naturalist worldview, we can take comfort in the fact that death does not get the final say. There is a better reality beyond our present one. There will be a new creation. We will, as followers of Jesus, one day take care of that new creation with God himself.
In the now, we just have each day given to us to celebrate with our loved ones. Then, when death comes, we can only run into the arms of our Savior and find comfort in the one who himself experienced the very same thing.
In the TV series 1883’s final episode, a young Elsa Dutton, having been mortally wounded by an Indian’s arrow, watched a jack rabbit munching on some grass with not a care in the world, and asked: “What is death? What is this thing we all share? Rabbits. Birds. Horses. Trees. Everyone I love. And everyone who loves me. Even stars die. And we know absolutely nothing of it.”
For some reason, those words haunted me.
For much of my life, I have been relatively sheltered from death. Going to funerals sums up the vast majority of my experience.
In the last two years, I have had to look at death directly in the face. Not my own, but in others.
In the fall of 2020, during the COVID craze, I lost my dad. I was recovering from a double-whammy case of COVID and pneumonia which hospitalized me for a week, and which included one night in intensive care.
Two months later, my sister passed, having suffered from Sepsis. She was 56—the same age as I am now.
In both occasions, I stood by their bedside the moment they slipped away. I saw the moment their eyes faded into that million-mile stare and they expelled their last breath here on earth. I watched their struggling bodies simply cease all movement.
For me, this was traumatizing.
I experienced again recently, only this time with my thirteen-year-old dachshund. I was up most of the night watching her seize many times. I could see her organs shutting down. We got her to the vet the moment they opened. Again, I saw seizing body abruptly cease movement and the life go out of her eyes. Yet again, I witnessed her last breath.
And a plethora of past emotions utterly overwhelmed me.
I have been struggling with the idea of death the last couple of years. There’s 40-year-oldnothing fair about it. We don’t get to choose to enter into this thing called life, yet we all have to endure loved ones ripped from us through death, over and again, until we have to ultimately face it ourselves.
It seems such a senseless part of creation. It feels like a violent tearing away.
But it was never meant to be a part of creation in the first place.
In my head, I can recite the theology. Death is now a reality in the universe because of the first human’s desire to be like God and choose for themselves—ourselves—to be like God. We wanted to be the ones who decided to come up with our own definitions of good and evil.
And, contrary to the serpent’s promise to Eve that she wouldn’t die, death is a part of the universe.
Everything dies: a loved one, a close friend, even a beloved pet.
And even though Paul taunts death in his letter to the church in Corinth—“Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” (1 Corinthians 15:55)—death still stings.
There’s no getting around that.
As the aforementioned fictional character Elsa concluded: everything dies. We will face feel death’s tearing away sooner or later.
That seems pretty hopeless.
If everything and everyone dies, and death is one percent fatal, then what’s the point?
Why exist?
Why strive?
Why love?
Because for the Christ-follower, there is hope.
When Jesus left the tomb on the third day, he conquered death. When Paul asks where is death’s sting, he is looking to the not-yet. Death was no longer the final word.
However, we still live in the now.
Despite the different interpretations in the body of Christ, all would agree that the biblical worldview springs from scripture which tells God’s story in three acts.
Act One is Creation. Act Two is the Fall. And the third act is Redemption.
Act One provides the answer to the worldview questions: who are we? And what is our purpose? Humanity was created imago dei, in the image of God. We’re not God, but we are reflections of him. Our purpose is seen in Genesis 2, when the man and woman cared for the Garden of Eden and were in deep relationship with God. You will find Act Two in Genesis 1-2.
Act Two is the Fall, answering the worldview question: what’s wrong? It explains why the universe is so broken and chaotic. It also explains how and why death came into the world. Death entered into the second act, which means death was never a part of the original creation. This is why death stings so violently. Act Two covers Genesis 3-11.
Then come Act Three—Redemption. This is all about God restoring the Universe prior to Genesis 3. Through promises and covenants, God works within sinful humanity to redeem creation.
Here’s the amazing thing about Act Three: it starts with God telling him to go from his comfort zone and go to a foreign land. With this command comes the promise of being the father of a new nation (Genesis 12:1-4). Ultimately it is through Abraham’s seed that the Savior and Redeemer will come.
That act of redemption, starting with Abraham, climaxes in the life, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus. Amazingly, Act Three continues on from the resurrection, through Acts and all the way through Revelation, which has yet to happen.
One fascinating thing to take out of this is the Third Act covers all but the first eleven chapters of the Bible. In other words, the Bible is primarily about God’s redemptive work.
However, another point to come out of this is the book of Revelation hasn’t happened yet. In other words, we’re still living in Act Three. We are living in the now, not the not-yet.
That is why death still stings, contrary to Paul’s claim. Paul’s statement is true. Death has been defeated. Victory has been won through the cross and resurrection of Jesus.
But we are still in the battle. From Abraham to the present, everyone had to experience the sting of death. And we will continue to do so.
But only for a time.
And in this, the follower of Jesus has hope.
Death will continue to tear at creation. In the now. But we have the not-yet to look forward to.
I wish there was a better immediate answer to the pain of death.
However, even though it is present, the final outcome is not. Unlike the naturalist worldview, we can take comfort in the fact that death does not get the final say. There is a better reality beyond our present one. There will be a new creation. We will, as followers of Jesus, one day take care of that new creation with God himself.
In the now, we just have each day given to us to celebrate with our loved ones. Then, when death comes, we can only run into the arms of our Savior and find comfort in the one who himself experienced the very same thing.
When we experience death, we can run for comfort into the arms of our Savior, who himself experienced the very same thing.
