07.15.2022 – Death Be Not Proud

The patient’s health had not been good for a long time, and now it seemed as if all the different concerns had conspired against him.  To treat one issue was to aggravate another. The physician was so attentive to the needs of the patient and caring for his wife.  But the weight of disease had become too much for the fragile life to bear.

Being present at the time of death is both an obligation and a privilege of the pastor’s calling.

When the patient died, it was more than a professional disappointment for the physician. Her sorrow seemed genuine, and you could see the compassion in her eyes as she turned to the wife.  Unfortunately, she did say something self-justifying about having done all she could and how sick he was when he was admitted to the hospital, but mostly she was trying to convey comfort to the just-now widow.  She did not use the word, however.  She did not say “died” or “death.”

“Mary, Bob is dead,” I said, simply because Mary was not able to understand the kind but veiled words the good doctor was using.  And then grief flooded that small room in the ICU.

We use euphemisms all the time.  We attempt to hide bad news and sad news with words and phrases we hope might soften the hurt and the pain of what has happened.  “There were so many good candidates, but we decided to go another direction,” we say to the disappointed job seeker. “You played a good game,” we tell the young athlete whose team has lost again. “There’s a redundancy in our staffing,” the worker is told just before she is escorted from the office, her final paycheck in the mail. It sounds better, we think, than saying “we chose someone else,” “you lost,” or “you’re fired.”

Euphemisms can be a good thing, and, yes, biblical precedence exists for their use.  Case in point, the Apostle Paul calls death sleep four times in 1 Corinthians 15 (verses 6, 18, 20, 51). Might I point out, though, that in that same famous chapter about the resurrection he uses “death,” “dead,” and “die” twenty times.

I bring up the topic of euphemisms, and euphemisms for death in particular, after an acquaintance recently mentioned his great sorrow and anxiety knowing that a loved one would soon “transition.”  He is not a close friend and we had not talked for a long while, so I could only intuit from the context that he was telling me about an imminent death.

We are told that Americans don’t like to talk about death, and I suppose that is true – and not all bad.  But we cannot hide the reality of death by veiling it behind nice words.  “Passing” has become the ubiquitous euphemism for death, as if we were a kidney stone.  My acquaintance’s word “transitioning” has an odd new age feel to it that not only blurs the reality of death but is theologically misleading.

In the Creed, we confess that Jesus “suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried: he descended into hell; the third day he rose again from the dead; he ascended into heaven, and sits on the right hand of God the Father Almighty; from there he shall come to judge the living and the dead.”

Were we to confess that Jesus suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified and then passed or transitioned, the Gospel would not be good news at all.  The same 1 Corinthians 15 declares death to be our final enemy.  The resurrection is the defeat of the final enemy. Jesus’ death is no gentle passing. The sky turns black and the earth quakes.  Matthew tells us the Day of Resurrection begins with “a great earthquake, for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone.”  This is not a “transition.” The created order cannot bear the strain of death’s defeat.

Modern deaths are often quiet, drug induced, what seems a “slipping away.”  We do ourselves and our gospel a disservice, however, when we hide behind euphemisms in fear of reality.  Only when we face our foe, knowing its still strong power to bring pain and sorrow can we also hear clearly the Apostle’s good words:
“Death is swallowed up in victory.”
“O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?”

Our deaths will not be accompanied by darkness and earthquakes, but they bring with them the sting of deep sorrow and lasting grief. The Christian knows death to be much more than a passing or a transitioning.  Death would own us save for the one who has defeated death on our behalf.

My campaign to end our euphemisms for death is bound to fail.  To be sure, however, the gospel is about more than a peaceful passing or a joyful transition.  It is about the defeat of death and the coming of that time when “death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore.” (Revelation 21:4) Indeed, in John’s glorious vision only the former things pass away.  The Gospel tells us that we will not be among the former things.