Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might destroy him who holds the power of death—that is, the devil—and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death. Hebrews 2:14-15
Let’s face it: Some things in life—apart from taxes, aging, and terrorism—are pretty frightening. My son, who is a rock climber, says that fear is not something you necessarily conquer, rather something you manage; otherwise, he wouldn’t set out on an arduous climb on the face of the largest piece of granite in the world, knowing he would spend seven days and nights on the face of that monolithic rock, exposed to the winds and weather.
When Steve climbs, he diligently studies the route that he will take. He talks to climbers who have been there. He trains and prepares so when it’s “tally ho and time to go,” he pretty much knows what to expect. He’s prepared for the unexpected. As much as is humanly possible, he’s ready for what lies ahead.
There is one experience in life, however, which some flirt with, and others consider an opponent with whom you do combat, and still others are held captive by it, living in mortal fear of it. For others, though, facing it is as natural as celebrating your 21st birthday or seeing the first streaks of gray in your hair about age 40. They are the ones who manage their fear, and it brings a healthy appreciation of life. Are you ready for it? It is the experience that comes to everyone at the end of life, which we call death.
Jesus Christ is the only one in all history who went one-on-one with this terrorist and came back to tell us about it. One of the New Testament writers used the analogy of a slave who had lived in bondage all of his life who was liberated, never again to feel the hard metal of chains. Here’s how he put it: “Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might destroy him who holds the power of death—that is, the devil—and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death” (Hebrews 2:14-15).
Do you remember those lines written by John Donne, “Death be not proud, though some have called thee / Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so, / For, those, whom thou think’st, thou dost overthrow, / Die not…?”
The 19th century English minister, John Henry Jowett, wrote, “Death is not the end; it is only a new beginning. Death is not the master of the house; he is only the porter at the King’s lodge, appointed to open the gate and let the King’s guests into the realm of eternal day.”
To be very candid with you, I’ve never had the experience that many have had, perhaps yourself as well, when a doctor soberly looks you in the eye and as gently as possible tries to explain that you have something wrong with you which can be terminal. Finally, what he’s telling you sinks in. You understand what he’s saying. Some panic. Others realize that everyone lives under the same umbrella, but the cross is what gives us hope that death is not the end, merely the transition into the very presence of God.
Now, our focus should not be on the transition but what lies on the other side. A godly man was fighting a losing battle for breath, and his son, a pastor, needed to travel a considerable distance to speak the following morning. Naturally, the son felt that being with his dad was more important than being with his congregation, who would certainly understand. “Son,” said the father, “you should take your appointment tomorrow morning. If I should happen to drop off, you will know where to find me.”
If you can live with that assurance, you can offset life’s greatest fear with life’s greatest hope. Remember, He went one-on-one with a terrorist called death and conquered it. And through Him, we can too.
Resource reading: Psalm 23:1-6
