Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed (1 Corinthians 15:51).
During Monday\u2019s devotion, I promised more reflections on Psalm 25 under the theme \u201cIs the Captain on Board?\u201d Sometimes life gets in the way, in this case, life and death. Yesterday, our congregation was invited to rejoice with the Joustras in the birth of a baby and to grieve with the Groenewegens in Kelly\u2019s death and with Rosa Lasoba, who\u2019s son, Martin, died tragically on Monday.
As those events shape my reflections for today, I want to remind you of our Christian hope, as Paul once wrote, \u201cwe will all be changed\u201d.
The birth of a child is often a beautiful thing. Few things are as awesome as cradling your newborn in your arms. There is so much hope, so much potential. Love and the joy overcome any fears.
But the fears are real. There is fragility. This living being is totally dependant. Most parents, when they hold their newborn child, encounter that sober reality that some day, this child too will die. Before that, there will be many trials and probably much suffering. To be a parent is not for the faint of heart.
As Christians, we do not avoid these realities of evil. Whether it is at the birth of a child or the death of a loved one, we acknowledge evil\u2019s grip on this life. There is much wrong with this world, and we cannot escape it. The present pandemic has caused many of us to realize that north Americans are not immune to evil\u2019s power. We have discovered just how frail we are.
And as Christians, we acknowledge that evil\u2019s hold on us is caused by humanities rebellion against God. When the apostle writes about our flesh, he is usually referring to that reality: that we are rebels, that we have walked away from the God who gives life and we have chosen death. Or as the Heidelberg Catechism puts it, \u2018we have a naturally tendency to hate God and our neighbour.\u201d
Yet, as Christians we face this frailty, this fleshness, with courage. This frailty is doomed to die. In his great chapter on the resurrection, the apostle says that \u2018our flesh and blood\u2019 cannot enter God\u2019s forever kingdom. Frail, mortal humanity cannot survive in God\u2019s eternal and perfectly holy presence.
But because Christ took on our flesh and blood, subjected himself to death, and rose again, death has lost its sting and its victory. By faith in him, our bodies too will be raised to new life. We will be changed. In our text, Paul refers specifically to those who are still alive when Christ returns. However, elsewhere he tells us that the dead are raised to their new bodies, and the whole creation is liberated from decay to share in the freedom of the glory of God\u2019s children. All who are in Christ will be changed. God will change are mortality to immortality and our perishableness to imperishableness.
When that day comes, death will have no more control over us. Our frailty will be gone. That fleshness will have been rooted out and destroyed. Life eternal will flow in us, forever. Our bodies will be transformed, along with all of creation.
God has already done the new thing in the Messiah, Jesus, and he will do it for all Jesus\u2019 people through the power of the Spirit. And in that new thing, death and decay will be gone, swallowed up for ever.
And so today, in whatever way we face the frailty of human life, we can so with courage and hope. Let\u2019s get a head start on Easter and declare, \u201cChrist is risen. He is risen, indeed.\u201d