Jesus is the Answer

I said goodbye to one of my favorite people in the world last week. 

One of my dad’s best friends from childhood lost his battle with cancer last week.  Ted was 59.  He still acted like he was 25, though.  Everyone who knew him felt his time on earth was far too short.  He sure used that time to live life well, though.

We had a celebration of his life with family and friends.  It was amazing to see how many people’s lives were touched by this one man.  People were invited to share memories and stories about him with the group.  Many told funny stories, some shared sweet memories, and some just said some final words.

One thing became very obvious as they were speaking, though.  Ted knew that it wasn’t all about him.  He could completely captivate a room, but never once made you feel like he was stealing the show.  He was the life of the party, but never demanded attention. He always had something to say, but was more eager to hear from you. He was always in the conversation for you and made you feel like you were important.

I truly can’t think of a bad memory with Ted.  All of our camping trips included thunderstorms – some hurricanes – and yet all are good memories.  He helped teach me to camp, hike, ski, and maybe a little about cigars and liquor, too.  He made me tougher, pushing me on harder hikes – always calling me the “flatlander.”  He challenged me, encouraged me, and never failed to make me laugh.

Ted was a special man.  He brought joy to everyone he was around.  His death brings sorrow.  The sorrow, I believe, comes because of the separation.  We know that Ted is in Heaven.  He is not in pain and he is full of joy.  And yet we still feel sorrow.

Death is painful because of separation.  We were created for relationship, not separation.  We were created for life, not death.  It is because of sin that death became part of our reality. Death is a tangible, painful reminder of the brokenness of this world and inability of the world to satisfy our souls. 

If we discover a desire within us that nothing in this world can satisfy, also we should begin to wonder if perhaps we were created for another world. – C. S. Lewis

And yet death is not the final answer.  Because of the death and resurrection of Christ, death has ultimately and finally been defeated.  For those who trust in Him, a life far greater than we can imagine awaits us on the other side of death.

Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him.  For we know that since Christ was raised from the dead, he cannot die again; death no longer has mastery over him.  The death he died, he died to sin once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God.  In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. – Romans 6.8-11

There will always be a longing that this world cannot satisfy.  No matter the depth of our grief or height of our joy, there will be a void.  Death exposes that void in our lives.  We desperately seek answers in the face of death.  We seek to explain the void and pain we feel. 

We don’t always get the answer we are seeking, though.  For good reason.

One of my pastors reminded me of this as he was speaking last week.  He said, “Too often, we want to trust in an answer rather than in a Person.”  Jesus calls us to trust not in the answers we so desperately seek from Him, but in Him and Him alone.

Mark Driscoll summarized this well in speaking of tragedy and death.  “Sin is the problem.  Death is the consequence.  Jesus is the answer.”

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.  And you know the way to where I am going.”  Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”  Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.  – John 14.1-6