“It was about this time that King Herod arrested some who
belonged to the church, intending to persecute them. He had James, the brother
of John, put to death with the sword.” Acts 12:1-2
(To see today’s text, Acts 12:1-5, click here.)
It hurts to lose the people we love. Those with whom we’ve laughed and smiled, struggled and ached, celebrated and shared, mourned and wept, lived and grown. We’ve walked life’s paths together, and now ... and now.
Imagine the friendship among James, his brother, John, and Peter. Of the twelve disciples, these were the three who Jesus pulled aside to develop into the “pillars of the church (Galatians 2:9).” All of them fishermen, they’d dropped their nets immediately at the sound of his voice, “Follow me!” Left it all behind; no questions asked. And, together, these three went on to share exclusive front-row seats to some of the most awesome and compelling events in human history: the raising of Jairus’ daughter, the transfiguration of the Christ, Jesus’ explanation of the end times, and the agony of Gethsemane.
And certainly there were the “human” moments, the kind they would undoubtedly laugh about later. Like the time they were all standing there with Jesus, Moses and Elijah ... and Peter blurted out something about pitching three tents! (“Oh no, you didn't!”) Or what about the time James’ and John’s “helicopter mom” asked the Messiah if her grown boys could sit on either side of him in his kingdom? (“D’oh!”)
But now ... Now James lived among them no more. His friends and family would fondly remember old times, but they could share them with James no longer. And the love in which they cherished him was yet a weight borne by their hearts, for he was not there to receive it from them. Like Jesus at the tomb of Lazarus, surely they wept. For James was gone ...
... from them.
But, oh, what awaited James on the other side of eternity! Like the repentant thief who suffered alongside the Christ, surely James was with him that day in Paradise. And as God proclaimed himself still to be the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob long after they closed their eyes in final rest, James awoke to join them in the land of the living.
For what we mourn at the last exhale of those we love is celebrated in heaven as a first gasp of newborn life. And as we watch them fade away ever smaller into the mist, the hosts of heaven behold them emerge as from a cloud, illumined in unknowable brilliance of light. No wonder the psalmist marveled, “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints. (Psalm 116:15)”
Death seems to us an inescapable force that engulfs and smothers with finality all we hold dear. But our God who holds authority over all things proclaims quite the opposite! For like so many before us, we will leave behind these temporary shells to which we have clung so tightly and, on that day, step into our heavenly dwelling. And there we will experience in ourselves the glorious, eternal truth of the matter: What is mortal is swallowed up by life!
(2 Corinthians 5:4)
What is mortal is swallowed up by life ... It is not death that claims us, rather it is life that consumes mortality, and it is unto life that we leave mortality behind. And though the fulfillment of this promise waits for us, we can rest in its certainty now and freely proclaim it through an eternity of todays.
And when my task on earth is done,
When by thy grace the victory's won,
E'en death's cold wave I will not flee,
Since God through Jordan leadeth me.
From “He leadeth me” Joseph Henry Gilmore
(To see today’s text, Acts 12:1-5, click here.)
It hurts to lose the people we love. Those with whom we’ve laughed and smiled, struggled and ached, celebrated and shared, mourned and wept, lived and grown. We’ve walked life’s paths together, and now ... and now.
Imagine the friendship among James, his brother, John, and Peter. Of the twelve disciples, these were the three who Jesus pulled aside to develop into the “pillars of the church (Galatians 2:9).” All of them fishermen, they’d dropped their nets immediately at the sound of his voice, “Follow me!” Left it all behind; no questions asked. And, together, these three went on to share exclusive front-row seats to some of the most awesome and compelling events in human history: the raising of Jairus’ daughter, the transfiguration of the Christ, Jesus’ explanation of the end times, and the agony of Gethsemane.
And certainly there were the “human” moments, the kind they would undoubtedly laugh about later. Like the time they were all standing there with Jesus, Moses and Elijah ... and Peter blurted out something about pitching three tents! (“Oh no, you didn't!”) Or what about the time James’ and John’s “helicopter mom” asked the Messiah if her grown boys could sit on either side of him in his kingdom? (“D’oh!”)
But now ... Now James lived among them no more. His friends and family would fondly remember old times, but they could share them with James no longer. And the love in which they cherished him was yet a weight borne by their hearts, for he was not there to receive it from them. Like Jesus at the tomb of Lazarus, surely they wept. For James was gone ...
... from them.
But, oh, what awaited James on the other side of eternity! Like the repentant thief who suffered alongside the Christ, surely James was with him that day in Paradise. And as God proclaimed himself still to be the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob long after they closed their eyes in final rest, James awoke to join them in the land of the living.
For what we mourn at the last exhale of those we love is celebrated in heaven as a first gasp of newborn life. And as we watch them fade away ever smaller into the mist, the hosts of heaven behold them emerge as from a cloud, illumined in unknowable brilliance of light. No wonder the psalmist marveled, “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints. (Psalm 116:15)”
Death seems to us an inescapable force that engulfs and smothers with finality all we hold dear. But our God who holds authority over all things proclaims quite the opposite! For like so many before us, we will leave behind these temporary shells to which we have clung so tightly and, on that day, step into our heavenly dwelling. And there we will experience in ourselves the glorious, eternal truth of the matter: What is mortal is swallowed up by life!
(2 Corinthians 5:4)
What is mortal is swallowed up by life ... It is not death that claims us, rather it is life that consumes mortality, and it is unto life that we leave mortality behind. And though the fulfillment of this promise waits for us, we can rest in its certainty now and freely proclaim it through an eternity of todays.
And when my task on earth is done,
When by thy grace the victory's won,
E'en death's cold wave I will not flee,
Since God through Jordan leadeth me.
From “He leadeth me” Joseph Henry Gilmore
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