A Strange Victory Death of a Nineteen-year-old
Sermon
We Are The Lord's
AN ANTHOLOGY OF SELECT FUNERAL MESSAGES
Death is seen as a friend when it comes to a loved one in the fulness of years, when the prospect is no longer for a full life but instead for a limited, and sometimes painful, existence. And so the Greeks spoke of a good life being capped by a "good" death, one that came with dignity, and peacefully, at the end of a long and useful life. Often we speak of how peacefully someone died. However, the death of a young person, like Doug, who died at the age of nineteen, strikes hard at our composure, and can even shake our faith to its foundations. The Scripture passages do not offer an easy answer to questions that often arise at these times, but I believe they offer the only answer that really has the power to sustain us and to aid us in dealing with our grief.
Some people have misread Christianity and expect, once they have accepted Christ, to be released from all their burdens and to encounter no great problems for the rest of their lives. Philippians 4:13 has been translated in most translations to read: "I can do all things through him who strengthens me." People have taken this to mean that, for the Christian, nothing is impossible. My experience has shown me how wrong this idea is and how many problems it can create. In Price, Utah, I met a woman who had been a devout believer, but when her father was murdered during the labor wars there, she became an atheist. This passage, and its failed promise, was the direct cause of her turning from Christ. Others, while not becoming atheists, had problems maintaining their faith because of the false promise of this passage as translated.
In Old Testament times, it was believed that piety equalled prosperity and sin equalled suffering. People who believed in God and followed God's commandments would, it was believed, live to a ripe old age, never encountering problems that were not rather easily handled. They would prosper, and they would see all their children grow to adulthood. The book of Job was written to refute this belief. Its theme is the possibility of finding God amid the whirlwind of despair, anxiety and desolation. It was a time such as now, when we are grieving over the loss of this young man, just when life was beginning to unfold for him.
The book states Job was without sin, and that he even offered sacrifices for any sins of his children of which he might have been unaware. He was always ready to counsel people who sought his advice, and he was generous to the poor. Then he lost everything, his children were killed, and he developed painful and ugly sores all over his body.
Job's friends came to offer him whatever comfort they could. They sat with him in silence for seven days. But, when Job began to complain that God was not treating him fairly, they could no longer keep silent, and they began to defend God. They heaped guilt on Job's shoulders, saying that God never allowed the innocent to suffer, that only Job was to blame for his suffering.
This happens too many times. In the midst of terrible suffering, someone comes along and adds to the burdens of the bereaved by accusing them of being responsible for whatever happened. When babies die of some strange disease, the parents are accused of having offended God in some way. When a wife or husband has been killed in an accident, her or his guilt is offered as the reason for the accident.
Job could find no solace in the traditional, little, predictable God of his friends, a God who was little more than the perpetuator of our human values, the custodian of our particular way of life, the preserver of our prosperity. Job never received an answer, in the sense of a perfect solution to his torment. He had an experience, a direct confrontation with the sovereign God. He came to realize that the most high God is to be found in unexpected ways and places - for example, at Golgotha, the place of the skull, where there is neither comfort nor security, but instead a great agony.
But Philippians 4:13, properly translated, tells us this is not the last word. In Today's English Version, it reads: "I have the strength to face all conditions by the power that Christ gives me." I discovered the translation at a time when it was thought that my wife might have cancer. To make matters worse, our daughters were only two and seven, and I faced the prospect of raising them without a mother. This passage helped us find the strength to deal with our distress. I offer it to you now as a passage that has the power to sustain you in your time of loss.
Let me also say a word about the place where Paul says, "I am content," for this word can create problems for us at a time like this when we are grieving the loss of a loved one. Paul was not saying that we can face such terrible trials with the serenity of the serenity prayer. Nor was he saying that he did not feel the anguish of the moment. The Greek word would better be translated "I am satisfied," or perhaps better still, "I am inwardly confident." He had the confidence that, because of his faith in Christ, though a situation might cause him great agony of soul, no situation had the power to destroy his faith or to cause him to lose confidence in Christ. Part of his strength came from Paul's willingness to accept whatever came, to be "satisfied" with any situation in which he found himself. At times, all we have a right to ask God for is the strength to play the hand that life has dealt us.
This is a "strange victory" to those who demand success in all their endeavors, who want a guarantee that they shall never personally experience misfortune, as a condition for their trusting in God. I see Paul's words as the greatest promise that any religion has ever given. It's all that I could ever ask for, or rightfully expect - and it doesn't fly in the face of reality. To quote a popular song, God never promised us a "rose garden."
In Second Corinthians, the eleventh chapter, Paul tells us:
Five times I was given the thirty-nine lashes by the Jews; three times I was whipped by the Romans; and once I was stoned. I have been in three shipwrecks, and once I spent twenty-four hours in the water. In my many travels I have been in danger from floods and from robbers, in danger from fellow Jews and from Gentiles; there have been dangers in the cities, dangers in the wilds, dangers on the high seas, and dangers from false friends.
In the midst of his trials, Paul experienced God's presence in such a way that he found the strength to go on. It was not a shallow strength based on the notion that his faith guaranteed him a smooth life.
With Job and Paul, we are promised no easy answers. Life can be tough, and, as Jesus said, "God sends his rain on the just and the unjust." However, the unjust are left without the presence of Christ to sustain them in their hour of trial, because they will not accept Christ. When we accept Christ, we can say, with Paul, "I have the strength to face all conditions by the power that Christ gives me."
Further, to achieve our "strange victory," we need one another; we need to be a healing community. We need to be present to one another in those hours of crisis which come to all of us one time or another. We need to be present to the dying and to those the dying leave behind. This is often difficult, especially when the dying person seems to reject us. During his last days, Doug did seem to reject us by his silence, and I know that his silence hurt some people, but the rejection was more apparent than real. People who have worked with the dying tell us that, when they have completely accepted their coming death, and feel they have said all their goodbyes, the dying seldom wish to talk. One day I spent almost an hour with Doug, and I only said about four sentences in that hour - and those sentences were in answer to questions or statements by Doug.
At such times, it is wrong to try to "cheer up" the dying. Rather, we should content ourselves with simply being present to them. The same often applies to the bereaved. There are times when no words are possible, and we can best remember that there is no greater gift we can give than ourselves, and let us decide now to be present to Doug's family in this hour of grief and in the days to come as they seek to adjust to life without Doug. And let us praise God for his holy presence which gives us our strange victory, and for the church through which God's grace flows into our lives.
Some people have misread Christianity and expect, once they have accepted Christ, to be released from all their burdens and to encounter no great problems for the rest of their lives. Philippians 4:13 has been translated in most translations to read: "I can do all things through him who strengthens me." People have taken this to mean that, for the Christian, nothing is impossible. My experience has shown me how wrong this idea is and how many problems it can create. In Price, Utah, I met a woman who had been a devout believer, but when her father was murdered during the labor wars there, she became an atheist. This passage, and its failed promise, was the direct cause of her turning from Christ. Others, while not becoming atheists, had problems maintaining their faith because of the false promise of this passage as translated.
In Old Testament times, it was believed that piety equalled prosperity and sin equalled suffering. People who believed in God and followed God's commandments would, it was believed, live to a ripe old age, never encountering problems that were not rather easily handled. They would prosper, and they would see all their children grow to adulthood. The book of Job was written to refute this belief. Its theme is the possibility of finding God amid the whirlwind of despair, anxiety and desolation. It was a time such as now, when we are grieving over the loss of this young man, just when life was beginning to unfold for him.
The book states Job was without sin, and that he even offered sacrifices for any sins of his children of which he might have been unaware. He was always ready to counsel people who sought his advice, and he was generous to the poor. Then he lost everything, his children were killed, and he developed painful and ugly sores all over his body.
Job's friends came to offer him whatever comfort they could. They sat with him in silence for seven days. But, when Job began to complain that God was not treating him fairly, they could no longer keep silent, and they began to defend God. They heaped guilt on Job's shoulders, saying that God never allowed the innocent to suffer, that only Job was to blame for his suffering.
This happens too many times. In the midst of terrible suffering, someone comes along and adds to the burdens of the bereaved by accusing them of being responsible for whatever happened. When babies die of some strange disease, the parents are accused of having offended God in some way. When a wife or husband has been killed in an accident, her or his guilt is offered as the reason for the accident.
Job could find no solace in the traditional, little, predictable God of his friends, a God who was little more than the perpetuator of our human values, the custodian of our particular way of life, the preserver of our prosperity. Job never received an answer, in the sense of a perfect solution to his torment. He had an experience, a direct confrontation with the sovereign God. He came to realize that the most high God is to be found in unexpected ways and places - for example, at Golgotha, the place of the skull, where there is neither comfort nor security, but instead a great agony.
But Philippians 4:13, properly translated, tells us this is not the last word. In Today's English Version, it reads: "I have the strength to face all conditions by the power that Christ gives me." I discovered the translation at a time when it was thought that my wife might have cancer. To make matters worse, our daughters were only two and seven, and I faced the prospect of raising them without a mother. This passage helped us find the strength to deal with our distress. I offer it to you now as a passage that has the power to sustain you in your time of loss.
Let me also say a word about the place where Paul says, "I am content," for this word can create problems for us at a time like this when we are grieving the loss of a loved one. Paul was not saying that we can face such terrible trials with the serenity of the serenity prayer. Nor was he saying that he did not feel the anguish of the moment. The Greek word would better be translated "I am satisfied," or perhaps better still, "I am inwardly confident." He had the confidence that, because of his faith in Christ, though a situation might cause him great agony of soul, no situation had the power to destroy his faith or to cause him to lose confidence in Christ. Part of his strength came from Paul's willingness to accept whatever came, to be "satisfied" with any situation in which he found himself. At times, all we have a right to ask God for is the strength to play the hand that life has dealt us.
This is a "strange victory" to those who demand success in all their endeavors, who want a guarantee that they shall never personally experience misfortune, as a condition for their trusting in God. I see Paul's words as the greatest promise that any religion has ever given. It's all that I could ever ask for, or rightfully expect - and it doesn't fly in the face of reality. To quote a popular song, God never promised us a "rose garden."
In Second Corinthians, the eleventh chapter, Paul tells us:
Five times I was given the thirty-nine lashes by the Jews; three times I was whipped by the Romans; and once I was stoned. I have been in three shipwrecks, and once I spent twenty-four hours in the water. In my many travels I have been in danger from floods and from robbers, in danger from fellow Jews and from Gentiles; there have been dangers in the cities, dangers in the wilds, dangers on the high seas, and dangers from false friends.
In the midst of his trials, Paul experienced God's presence in such a way that he found the strength to go on. It was not a shallow strength based on the notion that his faith guaranteed him a smooth life.
With Job and Paul, we are promised no easy answers. Life can be tough, and, as Jesus said, "God sends his rain on the just and the unjust." However, the unjust are left without the presence of Christ to sustain them in their hour of trial, because they will not accept Christ. When we accept Christ, we can say, with Paul, "I have the strength to face all conditions by the power that Christ gives me."
Further, to achieve our "strange victory," we need one another; we need to be a healing community. We need to be present to one another in those hours of crisis which come to all of us one time or another. We need to be present to the dying and to those the dying leave behind. This is often difficult, especially when the dying person seems to reject us. During his last days, Doug did seem to reject us by his silence, and I know that his silence hurt some people, but the rejection was more apparent than real. People who have worked with the dying tell us that, when they have completely accepted their coming death, and feel they have said all their goodbyes, the dying seldom wish to talk. One day I spent almost an hour with Doug, and I only said about four sentences in that hour - and those sentences were in answer to questions or statements by Doug.
At such times, it is wrong to try to "cheer up" the dying. Rather, we should content ourselves with simply being present to them. The same often applies to the bereaved. There are times when no words are possible, and we can best remember that there is no greater gift we can give than ourselves, and let us decide now to be present to Doug's family in this hour of grief and in the days to come as they seek to adjust to life without Doug. And let us praise God for his holy presence which gives us our strange victory, and for the church through which God's grace flows into our lives.

