We Do Not Die Alone

Some of the most heartbreaking stories we have all been hearing during our time in lockdown is that there are many dying alone in their hospital beds. Family members have been denied access to their loved ones who have either contracted the virus or are suffering some other health issue that lands them in their secluded hospital room. I have talked to a couple nurses who have experienced this and you can hear in the tone of their voices how difficult it has been to endure. I am sure the reality is far worse that I can imagine.

Right now, we have one of our beloved members on hospice and only the Lord knows how long she will remain in this world. Under normal circumstances, many of us would be visiting her, laughing and weeping, sharing old stories, and offering words of comfort and encouragement in the gospel. But we are unable to do this. She will more than likely die alone. 

Or will she?

I don’t mean to minimize the pain or frustration we may experience because we can’t be with our beloved sister in this time. But I want to encourage us in the reality of Christ’s promises for her death and ours.

To begin thinking some of this through, let’s consider Jesus. He died upon a cross and was laid in a tomb. That must have been an eerie experience for those involved, especially watching the stone be rolled over the small room that housed his lifeless body. The sense of finality that came over them must have rocked them to the core. Their hope was in lockdown, behind a massive rock, wrapped in burial clothes, trapped in death.

But that was Friday. Sunday was coming.

How do we understand what happened to Jesus, the person who is both God and man, when he died and spent three days in a tomb? I honestly don’t know how to answer some of the questions we have, but what I do know is that he didn’t stay in that tomb. He was raised to an indestructible life, defeating death. What was his first breath like? I don’t know but it was a breath of a New Creation, where death has no power over him! 

And since that is the case, death has no power over us who are hidden in him. What does that mean? In this world, it seems that death reigns supreme. Everyone must deal with it and it often feels as though it has the last word on our lives. But it doesn’t get the final word! Though we die, we will rise again. Death cannot keep us in lockdown. And when we make that final plunge through the waters of death and come out on the other side, we will never have to hear it taunt us or fear its grasp ever again. We will be fully and finally free of its sting. 

But on this side of that freedom, we all must face the crossing of the waters of death. What comfort can we have before the raging torrent? Do we step in that river and swim across alone? Two passages come to mind as we think about facing this journey. The first is Acts 7:54-60.

Stephen has just finished his speech on the history of Israel and their hardheartedness toward the mercies of God. Just before they take him to be stoned, Stephen is given a vision of Jesus standing at the right hand of God. We typically see Jesus sitting at the right hand, but here he is on his feet. It is as if Jesus has stood up from his throne to advocate for Stephen and to draw near to him as he is soon to be martyred. Jesus is strengthening and comforting his servant in the time of his death. Stephen will not be alone.

The second passage that emerges is the one that is often used as a picture of our final crossing into the Promised Land of the presence of the Lord. Of course, I’m speaking of Joshua 3, when the Israelites cross the Jordan. The river has swelled to perhaps a mile wide and the waters are rushing such that any attempt to swim across with all the people would lead to catastrophe. But God would lead the people through the waters, symbolized by the ark going first. The waters are thrown back seventeen miles up river and the people cross over on dry land. And Joshua (Hebrew name for Jesus) is with them the whole way. They do not cross the river alone.

One of the greatest promises we hear from the Lord is, “I am with you.” Jesus has promised to be with us throughout our entire lives and into eternity. That promise is not suspended in our death, but perhaps is made all the more real to us. We often talk about how he is nearest to us in our deepest and darkest trials, and it would seem that the hour of our death is at the top of that list. It is the ultimate unknown for us. I tend to think that when our death comes, Jesus draws closer to us than at any other time in our lives. We do not take this final step alone. We do not die alone, for we are never really alone.

And so the picture we should have in our death is not just that Jesus is standing on the other side of the river, waiting for us to make it across. Instead, we should imagine something more tender and intimate. He has been through these waters and will not leave us to ourselves as we seek to swim them. In a sense, he swims through the waters with us. We are never left to ourselves, but are carried along by him always.

It is terribly sad when we cannot be with those we love as they face their hour of death, but we can take solace in the fact that Jesus is with them. That is far better than you or me being with them! If our beloved sister is taken from us before we get a chance to be with her, know that she is not alone. She was never alone. She will not die alone. Jesus will be with her the whole time, carrying her to himself in glory. 

Let us pray that she experiences his nearness as she approaches the bank of that river that leads to her eternal home. 

And let’s sing this song at the top of our lungs today with a hardy “Amen” at the end. Our sister would greatly appreciate the drums.