Some thoughts on death, a personal experience, and what it all has to do with Easter

From the moment you are born, you begin to die.  I know that is somewhat of a morbid statement, but at the same time it is true.  The moment a baby breathes its very first breath, it is set on a path of growth and maturity that will ultimately result in death, in one way or another.  Of course, this is not a thought that we begin to understand right away.  As a baby, all you know is life as it is being experienced in that immediate moment.  You have no thought as to what will happen in an hour, a day, or much less, several years.  Of course, this ability comes with age and experience.  The more experiences a child has, the more it is able to think about what will happen as it continues to live.   

The first traumatic experience I had with death occurred one day while I was riding with my dad in his blue S10, manufactured sometime in the late 80's.  We were traveling down a routine highway that we rode on just about every day, when a pretty little bluebird darted out in front of us.  As the bird crashed into the grill of the truck, I heard a loud THUNK.  Dad tried to reassure me as my face filled with tears.  “We didn’t hit the bird that hard, it flew off into those trees.  Didn’t you see it?"  "Really?"  I asked, with hope in my voice.  "Let’s pull over and make sure."  Poor dad didn’t see that one coming, and with my insistence, he finally relented.  As soon as the truck stopped, he jumped out.  He probably planned to dispose of the body before I made it around to see myself, but I was too quick.  I jumped out of the passenger’s side, ran to the front of the truck, only to see the poor blue-bird flattened square against the front of the vehicle.  As I looked at the dark-red blood running down its little mouth, it dawned on me that this was my first time to see a dead animal.  The tears that started in the truck were just a prelude to the waterworks that followed and continued for a good thirty minutes during and after the rest of the trip home.  

 This was just the beginning of my experience with death.  A few years later I would see what it felt like to have not just any animal die, but my very own dog.  This would be the first time that I would personally suffer from a loss.  Of course, with age you learn that these losses only become more numerous and serious.  Once we begin experiencing the sting of death, there is no turning back the clock.  It takes everything from us.  From our pets, to our friends, to our family, and finally, our very own lives.  No one has or will be exempt from this, not even God's own son.   

Last Wednesday, our church held a special service called "Remembering the Cross."  In dim lighting, with a single candle burning to represent the earthly life of Christ, we sang songs about the crucifixion, shared in the Lord's Supper, and read portions of the biblical account of his death.  At the end of the service, the candle representing Christ's life was extinguished, and we departed in silence.  It was a very somber and sacred moment, as we allowed ourselves to focus on the fact that our Savior died an earthly death, just as we will, along with all of our animals, friends, and relatives.

 But today, we celebrate the fact that he didn’t stay dead.  Today we rejoice that three days after Good Friday, Jesus rose again on Easter Sunday. As a result, we know that death will not have the final say.  The apostle Paul states emphatically that "the last enemy to be destroyed is death (1 Cor. 15:26)."  Now that's something worth celebrating!  When it is all said and done, death does not win, no matter how its experience might impact us in this life.  

Keith Getty and Stuard Townend put it this way in one of my favorite modern hymns about the resurrection: "death is dead, love has won, Christ has conquered."  That is the ultimate result of the resurrection, and as we remember Christ's victory over death on this very special Sunday, we eagerly await ours that will be sealed when he returns.

Come Lord Jesus!