O death where is thy sting?
For the sting of death is sin
But death has been swallowed up in victory,
In Jesus, death’s vanquisher, I win.
Brooding over the remains of a dear friend
I began to think of the enemy, death,
For here was my friend, void of life
And from all indications apparently at rest.
The occasional sniffle was heard,
Someone was clearing his throat,
A hand reached up to brush a tear away
None in attendance was there to gloat.
O I had been to many a funeral
But this one was unlike the most of them,
This was almost as if it were I,
At this one I was quite overwhelmed.
This death was sudden unlike in the past,
This friend was removed just like that,
No complaints the day before for all seemed well
And no one saw death as it dogged her tracks.
But death had now brought us all together
And therein lay the common cause,
A mutual friend who impacted us all
Drew us from our daily schedule to take a pause.
Time out to mourn, to reflect and think
Partly about the one that had slipped away
But fundamentally too in our own respect
Cognizant that death will stop us too someday.
When that day will be we cannot tell,
Not its fashion, its location or its cause
But what we do know is should Jesus tarry
We too will cause some mutual friends to pause.
And so as I gazed at the face of my friend
I too reflected on my own mortality,
Of a life so elusive, so unsure and short
Yet full of trouble and unpredictability.
So what are the consolations the theme implies?
Perhaps it would be better to ask my friend
For there she lies in her bivouac of life
Though we are assured that death is not the end.
Well it’s a passage the Bible informs
So my friend through that passage has gone
To a place that I am not quite certain of
To awake on that glorious, resurrection morn.
That’s the hope of the Christian faith
A consolation to which we hold
For death is transient even as is life
But in eternity with Jesus are treasures untold.
Such you may say pertains to a time to come
But are there any immediate consolations?
O yes there are and quite a few,
Let me suggest some for your consideration.
As I looked down at the face of my friend
There appeared a peace so serene,
She hadn’t a care for the things of this world
She had moved on from this stress filled scene.
No pain or discomfort of any sort,
No worry regarding what tomorrow may bring,
No disappointments or setbacks ever again
Her spirit to worlds unknown has taken wing.
No getting up in the morning to run off to work
Because there were bills to be paid,
She couldn’t care less if the postman arrived
Or if in her community there was a drug raid.
The budget speech could be good or bad,
It really doesn’t matter to her
For at this point she is at truly at rest
And none of these challenges could her bestir.
The utilities could call as much as they like,
Light and Power, Water and Telephone,
At this present time she has no business with them
So it would be better if they leave her alone.
Tax increases and the failing economy
Hurricane predictions and pending tsunamis,
None of these can bother her again
For she has now left her earthly body.
We who are left have nothing on her
For she has graduated at the head of her class,
We must continue to plod along
For we are yet to complete our task.
The cares of this life are ours still
With its daily grind from day to day,
From all of this she is as free as a bird
And it doesn’t matter what the people say.
They could talk whatever they like
As they confuse, abuse and hoodwink us
But she will never be fooled again
For the next one she will hear will be Jesus.
O, there are consolations galore in death
For death’s sting has been taken away,
In Jesus death now has an expiry date
Because Jesus rose and is alive today.
“Crucify him!” they shouted and then led him away
To be nailed to the product of a tree,
They buried him in a tomb that was not even his own
But he defeated death on day number three.
This for me is the greatest consolation
It will come exactly as Jesus has assured
That even as he tore the bars of his own death away
Death will not over his saints endure.
So grieve if you must over the lost of my friend
But not as though she has gone without Christ,
For through his death she still has life
What a wonderful, marvelous, consolatory price!
Stewart Russell © May, 2017
