A Celebration of Death

A Sermon on Mark 14:1-15:47 for Palm/Passion Sunday, Series B, 2024

Grace, mercy, and peace be to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. The deathbed is one of the things that seminary cannot prepare a pastor for. Of course, there is really nothing that can prepare anyone for coming face to face with the dying, except actually being there. I have a book that gives me what words to say. And those words are good. But it takes a lot of experience to figure out why. 

When I was a new pastor, one of the members where I was serving had part of his family attending a sister congregation. The pastor of that congregation was on vacation thousands of miles away when the patriarch of the family found himself dying in the hospital. Fortunately, that congregation did have a vicar, an intern seminary student learning to be a pastor. But they wanted communion brought, and a vicar isn’t called yet to do that. So I was asked to go with the vicar and visit my parishioner’s grandfather. 

I packed up my travel communion kit and my Pastoral Care Companion book, and headed up to the hospital in Clovis. I met the vicar at the hospital, and we headed into the room together, and found the whole family gathered. Nothing was out of the ordinary, until the vicar and I were pulled aside and told not to mention the fact that he was dying to the grandfather. The service I had bookmarked was literally called Commendation of the Dying. His death being imminent was the whole reason I was even there. And the two of us were too inexperienced to tell them no. We both knew this wasn’t right, but neither of us, at that time, could have told you why. So we went with it. And, boy howdy, was it awkward. But it was worse than that.

The family had wanted to protect him from being afraid. They wanted to help keep his spirits high. They wanted to remember him in his strength and confidence. But I learned that day what the fear of death looks like in a man’s eyes. He knew he was going to die, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He was okay with death. He knew he would be with Jesus. But his body was shutting down. He was feeling the pain of dying right then and there. And he didn’t know how he was going to get through it. He was scared. The very thing his family tried so hard to keep him from with their strange request. 

We know what pain feels like. Nobody likes it. We know that pain can be less intense or more intense. We know that Jesus being beaten by blows as He leaves the Sanhedrin before dawn  hurt a lot. We also know the scourge of the whip while being tried by Pilate hurt more. And we know the nails, and hanging upon a cross must have hurt most of all. We have a tough time imagining Jesus’ pain, because it’s far more than we’ve ever experienced. We can’t picture ourselves possibly enduring even half of that. 

But look how we even speak of endurance. We speak as though we have a choice in the matter. I can endure this much pain, but past this point, I can’t. That’s not how it works. Endurance is not how much you’re comfortable with. Nor the point at which you pull your hand back from the fire. Endurance is what you do when the pain goes past what you can bear. Endurance is what happens when that pain is the only thing you feel as the moments stretch to minutes, the minutes to days, the days to weeks, and the weeks to months. Endurance is what Jesus did, as he went from pain to pain, not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, spiritually. Every way you can feel pain, Jesus endured it at its fullest on the day He died. And He endured it for your sake.

But there’s something about endurance that we have forgotten over the generations. We have been so keen to avoid it, so quick to chase it away, that we never got a chance to realize. When what we’re enduring comes to an end, we are overcome with joy. Abundant and exceeding joy. 

That’s what those two greenhorns at the hospital deathbed didn’t know. That’s what the family that shielded that man from the fear of death did not know. That the words, “You are dying” have comfort in them. Because when the dying is done, there will never be any more to suffer through again, for the rest of eternity. Dying is the finish line quickly approaching, and, as St. Paul has said, we ran this race to win it. We are so close to that joy, that we anticipate it. And it begins seeping in as each moment brings us that much closer. Fear gives way to joy. Pain gives way to joy. Death gives way to joy!

Jesus Christ reaches the finish line first. He has gone through the betrayal, the beatings, the scourging, the nails, the insults, the burden of the sins of the world. And He endured it all. And when He crosses that finish line, He doesn’t do so with a whimper, or a groan, or a shriek of fear. Jesus uttered a loud cry. And the range of meaning for βοαω, that word we translate as ‘cry,’ can possibly include a cry of celebration. And I think that’s exactly what it was. “WOOHOO!” The suffering is over! Sin is over! Death is over! And the salvation of all humanity is finished! At that cry, the earth shook. At that cry, the darkness that was over the land dissipated. At that cry, the centurion standing by believed. At that cry, the curtain that separated the unholy from God was torn in two, from the top. And when all His work was accomplished, Jesus took His Sabbath rest. He endured everything. The joy is here. And the victory is won.

Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, behold your king! Because of the blood of My covenant with you, I will set your prisoners free from the waterless pit. Return to your stronghold, O prisoners of hope; today I declare that I will restore to you double. 

He humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. 

The suffering of Christ has indeed brought joy. And do not forget, that joy when suffering comes to you. We have many things left to endure in this life. We will not have a choice whether or not to go through them. And there is nothing easy about such endurance. But as we have seen with our Lord, not all suffering is evil. Our Lord suffered for our sake. Suffered on His cross. And at His death, saved us all with great joy. Therefore we await that joy, whether it’s the joy of enduring to better days, or enduring unto the final joy of life forever with Him. Thanks be to God.