“I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die, and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” John 11:25-26
Recently I have noticed a wave of deaths and terminal diagnoses among middle aged moms and dads. Some of them in our community. A few through distant connections. Premature death is always shocking. We will all die, sure. But to die right in the thick of life—in the midst of our seasonal plans—and leave children, or a hapless spouse wilting on the vine. That’s jolting. Losing a beloved is like having a giant hole blasted through the center of your life. They are irreplaceable. Everyday ruts and routines are suddenly disrupted by a vast canyon of emptiness and grief.
When Jesus uttered these words, “I am the resurrection and the life” they were in the midst of such grief. Mary and Martha had just lost their brother; Jesus had just lost a beloved friend. They had just experienced a head-on collision with death.
Yet, as we swoon, Jesus’ words are like pillars to lean on. They first carry the reminder of our hope that this life, which is busted and swinging ajar, will eventually be repaired. Death does not get the final insult; and the grave is not a terminus, only a doorway. “For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive” (1 Corinthians 15:22). As George Calloway has said, “The enigmas of life become at least less baffling, when we come to rest in the thought that this is not the last act of the human drama.”
The words of Jesus also attach our hope to his vital personality. Hope in the resurrection is not just a ship sailing into harbor at the end of the age. It is the person of Jesus filling in the canyon of grief with his closeness, offering his silent companionship and comfort. Our unsettled questions may not be answered, but at least our captain and comforter is with us and can lead the way. It is his promise that “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”
We live from that unassailable reality. The cross is empty. The tomb is empty. No one found Jesus’ body. Afterwards, disciples and hundreds of others had witnessed the risen Lord. Around the world today the risen Jesus is still appearing to people in dreams and visions, healing people’s infirmities with his resurrection power. In the pulsing person of Christ this very moment is reclaimed and alive with his breath. Out of the winter ground the tulip bursts. From the ashes of evil there will spring justice. In the midst of malady there is a healing remedy. Today we may grieve, but tomorrow we will be reunified. Death dissolves and life lives. The grave is too small to hold the vast love and power of Jesus Christ or the children he has claimed for himself.
Tags: jesus, resurrection, hope, life, comfort, presence, grief
