"Words to Die By"

Throughout my time as a pastor, people often asked me, “why do you talk about death so often?” My response usually took them by surprise. “Someday I may have to bury you, or someone you know and love. I am doing my grief counseling now, before death comes.”

Many people expect their pastor to be a wise counselor, problem solver, motivator, dynamic leader, or even a skilled teacher (all good things). But Scripture assigns to the pastor the primary role as a shepherd of souls–or more precisely, an under-shepherd of Christ’s flock (1 Peter 5:2-4; Acts 20:28-29). In this role, the pastor’s primary job is to prepare people for death, a part of the job description too often omitted. This kind of preparation entails making sure that those whom God has entrusted to our care regularly hear the promises of the gospel, so that they can live joyfully and confidently in light of eternity to come. These gospel promises need to be understood well before a crisis comes, because it is difficult, if not impossible, to learn these promises (or even cling to them) when people are gripped by fear or wracked with pain.

Americans hate the thought of death. We fear what pandemic and war can do–rightfully so. The cars we drive are rated for their safety—a great thing. We spend billions of dollars on healthcare, vitamins, diets, and exercise equipment. We watch countless videos telling us how to eat, how to exercise, and how to extend our lives. Yet, we still die, even before the pandemic struck. We will still die when the pandemic is over.

Those who die are no longer buried next to their church (in the “grave yard”) as a tangible reminder of the bodily resurrection yet to come. Now, we bury our dead in a serene pastoral setting known as a “cemetery” (from the Greek koimētērion or “sleeping chamber”). Here the dead are often hidden behind high walls and dense shrubbery, in a place which looks more like a golf course than an appropriate resting place for the dead. As a culture, we do this to help ensure that the awful reality contained under headstones and in mausoleums are not easily seen by passers-by.

In the days of the sixteenth century Protestant Reformation life was hard. Political philosopher Thomas Hobbes (the author of Leviathan, 1651) famously described life in many places in Europe of that period as, “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” Europeans knew all too well the horrors of disease and war. The average life expectancy was just forty-years of age. People could not escape the reality of death. We moderns forget the fact that people in that period did not die in the sterile environment of a hospital or nursing care facility. There were no paramedics, or emergency medical care. No body bags, no coroner’s van. People died at home, or on the streets—the Monty Python mantra “bring out your dead” is surely an exaggerated parody, but not without some hint of reality. People knew the smell of death–they encountered it frequently. They saw first hand the reality of the fall of the human race into sin and its consequences. They could not hide from death or sanitize it as easily as we do. Death was common and often visible.

In the face of the stark reality of death, the author of the Heidelberg Catechism (Zacharius Ursinus) composed the first question and answer.

1 Q. What is your only comfort in life and in death?

A. That I am not my own, but belong—body and soul, in life and in death–to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ. He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood, and has delivered me from the tyranny of the devil. He also watches over me in such a way that not a hair can fall from my head without the will of my Father in heaven; in fact, all things must work together for my salvation. Because I belong to him, Christ, by his Holy Spirit, also assures me of eternal life and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him.

These are words to live by. They are also words to die by. This is why this beloved question and answer from the Heidelberg Catechism is often read at the graveside portion of a Christian (Reformed) funeral service.

In the face of death, what is it that a Christian needs to know so that we don’t live in despair or without hope? We need to know that we are not our own, that we belong to Jesus Christ, who has purchased us with his own blood. Knowing this enables us to live in light of the fact that when we die, the one who conquered death and the grave, did so for us.

Christ has paid for my sins (not some of them, but all of them), so that on the day of judgment, I need not fear the wrath of God. Christ was faithful, so that when I am not, God will look upon Christ’s obedience, not my disobedience. Christ has redeemed us from the devil, so that I don’t fear those things which supposedly come about through the whiles of Satan, when instead, whatever happens comes about through the power of Christ in the providence of God. Because of Christ’s work as redeemer, I know that whatever happens to me–whether I live, or die–comes about as God’s means of saving me from my sins, finally bringing me into his presence.

Christ gives to me his blessed Holy Spirit who assures me that I am Christ’s and that his saving benefits have been applied to me. He gives me hope and confidence in the face of death, so that I can live a life of gratitude before God, because of all that Christ has done for me. Someone who knows what Christ has done for them will live confidently in the present, because they know their eternal destiny is tied to Christ’s victory over death and the grave.

Americans hate death, and many do all they can to hide from it. But death is as much a threat to us as it was for people living in the sixteenth century. Barring the return of Jesus, everyone reading this will die—no matter what the quality of your healthcare, despite advances in medical technology, and largely irrespective of your wealth and/or status in life. But the pressing question remains to be answered: “until your death comes, will you live in the comfort of Christ’s death and resurrection, or will you live in fear, not knowing what will happen when you face God on the day of judgment?”

In the first question and answer of the Heidelberg Catechism, the author directs us away from our fears to Jesus Christ, the redeemer to whom we now belong. Once we realize that we are not our own, and that we are his, then the fear of death will give way to the comfort of the gospel. These are words to live by. These are words to die by.