Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope.
Remember those days back in kindergarten when you longed for nap time to be over? These days I long for nap time to begin! And I'm guessing you might share the same sentiment. Sleep is a delight for most adults, but only, I think, because we finally recognize it to be a precious commodity.
The idea of endless sleep, however, might send a chill down your spine. In the ancient world sleep was a common metaphor for death, and it was almost always spoken of as an endless sleep from which the person would never wake. Catullus, a Roman poet, said, "Suns may set and rise again but we, when once our brief light goes down, must sleep an endless night," and our modern world doesn't see it much differently. We fear death because we know it marks an end that is quite final.
And yet, when we are in Christ, that view is actually not really true. In today's passage, Paul likens the death of a believer in Jesus to sleep, not out of poetic metaphor, but because it much more closely reflects our eternal reality than the secular idea of death. Interestingly, one commentary notes that the early Christians were the first to "call their burial places 'cemeteries,' which means 'dormitories' or 'sleeping places.'" The very language the early Christians began to use was shaped by their understanding of what Jesus accomplished for us on the cross and at the empty tomb. Defeating death, he made a way for you and me to only rest in death when our time comes, like a bear's long winter hibernation, before the dawn of Christ's return (1 Thes. 4:16-17).
I see three ways this truth might impact our hearts today:
First, it changes how I view my life. Do you know that you are an eternal being? There will never be a moment for the rest of eternity that you don't exist. Either that existence will be separated from God in eternal torment, or it will be with God in paradise, heaven, the new creation - forever and ever and ever. The small blip I get earth-side is precious and important (Phil. 1:21-24), but it is not the highlight. Restored, new-creation life forever with Jesus and all the saints, dwelling in God's presence, that will be the highlight by far - read Revelation 21 and 22 if you don't believe me! This perspective shift has massive potential to impact how we view our circumstances and the world around us.
Second, it changes how I view my death. We live in a world that says death is the ultimate horror. And, yes! Death is horrid and it terrifies and grieves us so deeply because our hearts were never designed for it. Death was never a part of God's creation until sin entered the picture. We just aren't made for it. However, even as I hold that truth in one hand, I can hold this as also true in the other: Death is not the worst thing that could happen to me. Life apart from Jesus is the worst thing that could happen. But that worst case scenario will never come for me because I am fully secure in Christ (John 10:28-30). But oof! Can I just confess that is a hard reality for my heart to actually agree with? My head says it's true, but honestly, I still fear death. Jesus, increase my faith and help my unbelief!
Finally, the truth of this passage changes how I view the deaths of other believers. Even as our hearts break for missing them, this passage can give us the confidence that it's only a long hibernation, a really extended nap into which our beloved ones enter. We will spend eternity with them. We will! How might our hearts be infused with hope if we actually believed this?
However, I don't pretend to stand before you as someone who has fully embraced this truth. I stand before you as a fellow believer who must wrestle with the incongruences between what I know in my head to be true and what I feel in my heart when death has its momentary and fleeting victory in our lives. Sometimes, knowing it's fleeting isn't enough to dull the stabbing pain or enduring ache it brings. Praise God, there's so much grace to cover that space, those days, those years. Dear friend, know he is with you in that grief when the truth of today's passage feels too distant to be helpful.
But - it may not feel that way forever. There may yet be a day when this truth feels more like the surprising flicker of an almost-cold ember in your heart. When you have the courage to allow the breath of God to breath on that ember, fanning it into a small flame of hope for eternity that helps you walk the enduring journey of grief. A maybe even a day when you truly begin to rest your hope firmly on this truth - that death does not have the final say on our eternity, but only a temporary hold on our present world.
Jesus, we praise you, our Redeemer! You are alive! And so are we in you. Thank you, Jesus. Grow our faith, teaching us to ask with more and more confidence each day: O Death, where is your sting? In the mighty name of Jesus we pray, Amen.