A Conquered Enemy
Sermon
Life Everlasting
The Essential Book of Funeral Resources
Object:
For a 62-year-old man
A Conquered Enemy
1 Corinthians 15:26
(This sermon was delivered at the funeral of a 62-year-old man, the father of a large grown family. From all appearances of knowledge of his friends, he was in a comfortable financial situation with no real debt and a very satisfactory family circumstance. After a period of depression, he committed suicide.)
The writer of the letter to the Hebrews says, "Here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city which is to come." Thus he points to the impermanence of our life, and emphasizes the hope of the Christian.
Sometimes, in periods when things are going fairly smoothly for us we succumb to the illusion, even though we know better, that the situations of life are quite permanent. Changes which we know must some day cease seem so remote as to be unreal. But we all know that any moment something can happen to totally alter the pattern of life for us. In actual fact, nothing is permanent in this imperfect world. Life is always changing. Most of these changes we take more or less as a matter of course. We replace the furniture in our homes, change jobs, or even move from one place to another. We think of most of these changes as advancements or improvements, and we rejoice in new opportunities. The growth and development and advance of children, while sometimes regarded nostalgically, is generally viewed with satisfaction.
But many changes are not pleasant for us. The declining abilities of advancing age are often a burden to us, and a source of frustration. In the success-oriented world of today, the expectations that are placed upon us, and that we place upon ourselves, apply many subtle pressures upon all of us. Many of them bear their influence without us being aware of that influence, or without being able to control it. Sometimes, they are more than we can cope with. But while the expectations of the world and of ourselves may be too demanding, the one who in tender love and sympathy said one day to those in need, "Let not your hearts be troubled ... in my Father's house are many rooms ... I go to prepare a place for you," is mindful of what we are able to bear and deals with us accordingly.
The one sure thing about life here is that it will end, and death always seems so final. So, no matter when or how it comes, death is the arch enemy of life. The loss of those we love, of immediate family members, sometimes without warning, probably requires our greatest adjustments in life.
Today, we are faced with the loss of one who for many years has been a familiar member of his community; a family is faced with the loss of a husband and a father. When, in the midst of life and in comfortable circumstances, and with seemingly much to bring satisfaction to life, the unexplainables of life take from us one whom we loved and with whom we shared many satisfactions, we are suddenly brought face-to-face with that last great enemy of life which we call death. We realize then that with all our learning, with all our knowledge of health and disease, with all our understanding of the stresses and strains of life, and of our reaction to them, and with all the precautions we can take, we are sometimes helpless to delay the assault of that final enemy of life, which may come without regard to the portion of a normal life that has passed.
We have seen the sorrow and distress that death can bring as parents have had their hopes and dreams destroyed with the loss of a child, young people have been forced to grow to maturity without the love and guidance of a father or mother, partner has been separated from partner, brother from brother, and friend from friend. Our efforts to withstand the attack of this enemy are sometimes bewilderingly ineffectual. Eventually, of course, death triumphs over all of us. Of all our enemies, this is the most victorious.
Yet, in spite of this, the victory cry of life can still be heard in the Christian gospel as it proclaims that even this enemy has been destroyed, and that one day that destruction will be complete. While death will be the last enemy to be destroyed, that destruction began, and was assured, with the resurrection of the Christ. In him, Almighty God has guaranteed us the victory. He was the "firstfruits" of those who are to be raised from the grave. As descendants of man, we are all to die. But in Christ we are guaranteed new life, free of all the separations and heartaches and bewilderments of our days here. The great Creator of man has provided not only this vale of tears for our experience and growth, but has ordained that beyond the grave the sun may break forth into a new and glorious day. Our Lord was victorious and is victorious in a battle that proved impossible for death to conquer. Now he lives and reigns; death has no more dominion over him or over those who are his. His very purpose in coming was to bring life. We live in the joyous reality of this.
And we cannot be wrong in this, for the Holy Spirit himself confirms it to our spirits. This assurance has been part of man's experience for 2,000 years. Where death is the great destroyer, bringing one form of life to an end, Christ is the supreme life-giver, the bread of life, the source of living water. He is the glorious sun of a bright, new day.
Death, where it touches those we love, shatters our world. It brings heartache, distress, pain, and bewilderment; perhaps even a little bitterness and resentment as our stability is shaken. Death may be the last enemy to be destroyed, but in Christ the victory is ours, in spite of circumstances. For the Christian, instead of it being the symbol of hopelessness and despair, death is but rest from labor and sorrow, release from pain, and an access into the very presence of God. In the face of death, with all its bitter pain and distress, we can still raise the triumphant cry, "Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." Amen.
(Reprinted from "In Sure And Certain Hope," CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio 45804, © 1985.)
A Conquered Enemy
1 Corinthians 15:26
(This sermon was delivered at the funeral of a 62-year-old man, the father of a large grown family. From all appearances of knowledge of his friends, he was in a comfortable financial situation with no real debt and a very satisfactory family circumstance. After a period of depression, he committed suicide.)
The writer of the letter to the Hebrews says, "Here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city which is to come." Thus he points to the impermanence of our life, and emphasizes the hope of the Christian.
Sometimes, in periods when things are going fairly smoothly for us we succumb to the illusion, even though we know better, that the situations of life are quite permanent. Changes which we know must some day cease seem so remote as to be unreal. But we all know that any moment something can happen to totally alter the pattern of life for us. In actual fact, nothing is permanent in this imperfect world. Life is always changing. Most of these changes we take more or less as a matter of course. We replace the furniture in our homes, change jobs, or even move from one place to another. We think of most of these changes as advancements or improvements, and we rejoice in new opportunities. The growth and development and advance of children, while sometimes regarded nostalgically, is generally viewed with satisfaction.
But many changes are not pleasant for us. The declining abilities of advancing age are often a burden to us, and a source of frustration. In the success-oriented world of today, the expectations that are placed upon us, and that we place upon ourselves, apply many subtle pressures upon all of us. Many of them bear their influence without us being aware of that influence, or without being able to control it. Sometimes, they are more than we can cope with. But while the expectations of the world and of ourselves may be too demanding, the one who in tender love and sympathy said one day to those in need, "Let not your hearts be troubled ... in my Father's house are many rooms ... I go to prepare a place for you," is mindful of what we are able to bear and deals with us accordingly.
The one sure thing about life here is that it will end, and death always seems so final. So, no matter when or how it comes, death is the arch enemy of life. The loss of those we love, of immediate family members, sometimes without warning, probably requires our greatest adjustments in life.
Today, we are faced with the loss of one who for many years has been a familiar member of his community; a family is faced with the loss of a husband and a father. When, in the midst of life and in comfortable circumstances, and with seemingly much to bring satisfaction to life, the unexplainables of life take from us one whom we loved and with whom we shared many satisfactions, we are suddenly brought face-to-face with that last great enemy of life which we call death. We realize then that with all our learning, with all our knowledge of health and disease, with all our understanding of the stresses and strains of life, and of our reaction to them, and with all the precautions we can take, we are sometimes helpless to delay the assault of that final enemy of life, which may come without regard to the portion of a normal life that has passed.
We have seen the sorrow and distress that death can bring as parents have had their hopes and dreams destroyed with the loss of a child, young people have been forced to grow to maturity without the love and guidance of a father or mother, partner has been separated from partner, brother from brother, and friend from friend. Our efforts to withstand the attack of this enemy are sometimes bewilderingly ineffectual. Eventually, of course, death triumphs over all of us. Of all our enemies, this is the most victorious.
Yet, in spite of this, the victory cry of life can still be heard in the Christian gospel as it proclaims that even this enemy has been destroyed, and that one day that destruction will be complete. While death will be the last enemy to be destroyed, that destruction began, and was assured, with the resurrection of the Christ. In him, Almighty God has guaranteed us the victory. He was the "firstfruits" of those who are to be raised from the grave. As descendants of man, we are all to die. But in Christ we are guaranteed new life, free of all the separations and heartaches and bewilderments of our days here. The great Creator of man has provided not only this vale of tears for our experience and growth, but has ordained that beyond the grave the sun may break forth into a new and glorious day. Our Lord was victorious and is victorious in a battle that proved impossible for death to conquer. Now he lives and reigns; death has no more dominion over him or over those who are his. His very purpose in coming was to bring life. We live in the joyous reality of this.
And we cannot be wrong in this, for the Holy Spirit himself confirms it to our spirits. This assurance has been part of man's experience for 2,000 years. Where death is the great destroyer, bringing one form of life to an end, Christ is the supreme life-giver, the bread of life, the source of living water. He is the glorious sun of a bright, new day.
Death, where it touches those we love, shatters our world. It brings heartache, distress, pain, and bewilderment; perhaps even a little bitterness and resentment as our stability is shaken. Death may be the last enemy to be destroyed, but in Christ the victory is ours, in spite of circumstances. For the Christian, instead of it being the symbol of hopelessness and despair, death is but rest from labor and sorrow, release from pain, and an access into the very presence of God. In the face of death, with all its bitter pain and distress, we can still raise the triumphant cry, "Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." Amen.
(Reprinted from "In Sure And Certain Hope," CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio 45804, © 1985.)
