death

The Queen’s message at her funeral

/ MurrayCampbell

The funeral for Her late Majesty Queen Elizabeth was filled with ceremony and pageantry on the grandest scale. The sights and sounds were more than impressive. Thousands of soldiers marched and guarded the route of the funeral procession.  Military bands played a funeral dirge to the impeccable timing of the bass drum.  Inside Westminster Abbey the choral singing was sublime. Even from viewing the funeral at home in my living room one could not help but be swept up.

Every detail communicated dignity, grandeur and majesty. 

We have never before witnessed a funeral on such a scale and may never again. Hundreds of Princes,  Prime Ministers, and Presidents representing nearly every nation on earth joined together at Westminster Abbey. Alongside religious leaders, dignitaries, and ordinary members of the public, all sat together as we said farewell to Queen Elizabeth. Millions of people lined the street of London and Windsor to catch one final glimpse of a much-loved monarch. It is estimated that as many as 4 billion people across the globe watched the funeral. 

For a few days culminating in yesterday’s funeral,  the world slowed down a little. News outlets gave attention to a single story. For a period of 10 days news readers and reporters dressed in black as a sign of respect and mourning. Television stations paused normal programming, and even limiting comedy and satire out of respect for the Queen’s death. Sporting events were postponed or observed a minute’s silence. 

As I watched the funeral last night,  intently and moved by what I was hearing and seeing, I was struck by the contrast between Queen Elizabeth’s funeral and that of Her Saviour and Lord.

Instead of honour and respect from world leaders and from local populations, Jesus’ journey to the grave was marked with disdain and abandonment.  Kings and Governors didn’t honour him with kind words; they condemned him to death. Crowds didn’t line the streets to pay their respects; they jeered as he dragged a cross through the streets. Religious leaders didn’t pray for him, they mocked him. Soldiers didn’t protect him, they drove nails through his hands and feet, spat on him and gambled away his clothes.  His friends, filled with terror, either ran away or stood at a distance in shock and silence. As a final attempt to mock Jesus, a sign was placed over his head that read, “Here is the king of the Jews”. 

How and why would the Prince of glory subject himself to such ignominy? And how is it that a Queen should look to Him for mercy and grace? And how is it that this Jesus, despite the very best attempts was not erased from history but instead has become the focal point and end of history?

One of the most famous accounts of Jesus’ death was in fact written prior to that day, and yet, the prophet Isaiah foretold with precision the undertaking God’s Servant would follow. As Her Majesty had years earlier determined the details of her own funeral, so in advance, God announced the path his only Son would take,

“He was despised and rejected by mankind,
    a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.
Like one from whom people hide their faces
    he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.

Surely he took up our pain
    and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
    stricken by him, and afflicted.

But he was pierced for our transgressions,
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
    and by his wounds we are healed.

We all, like sheep, have gone astray,
    each of us has turned to our own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
    the iniquity of us all.

He was oppressed and afflicted,
    yet he did not open his mouth;
he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,
    and as a sheep before its shearers is silent,
    so he did not open his mouth.

By oppression and judgment he was taken away.
    Yet who of his generation protested?
For he was cut off from the land of the living;
    for the transgression of my people he was punished.

He was assigned a grave with the wicked,
    and with the rich in his death,
though he had done no violence,
    nor was any deceit in his mouth.”

Every detail in the Queen’s funeral suggests importance and splendour deserving of a monarch. And yet the true wonder and glory of what we saw and heard was not about Her Majesty, but about the One to whom she placed her trust. Her faith and her hope rests in the King who laid aside eternal glory and entered this broken and sinful world to die a sinner’s death as our substitute. The grandeur and awesome sights of the Queen’s funeral are but a tiny and pale reflection of the hope of resurrection she has in the One who gave his life as a ransom for many. 

It was no coincidence that these words of Jesus were read out loud during the service,

“I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.  If you really know me, you will know my Father as well. From now on, you do know him and have seen him.”

In the part of the world where I live, we often reduce life to a bucket of cotton candy. We distract ourselves with sugary treats that promise bursts of happiness and pleasure and personal advantage. We’ve bought the marketers presentation. Life is driven by gaining sensory experiences which give us regular dumps of dopamine. The secularist’s dream and immanent frame has tried to block out transcendence with guarantees of sexual freedom and fulfilment, and offerings of entertainment, leisure, comfort and success. Eventually, the sugar rush wears off, and the realities of age, uncertainty, failure, pain and even death knock on our door. Her Majesty’s final gift was not to elevate herself and encourage the world to look at her, but rather to consider the One whom even monarchs must bow the knee. 

The hope in which Queen Elizabeth looked and trusted is for great and small alike, for royal and commoner together. Her hope rested in a King who has walked the path of suffering and death for us and who in love shares his glory with all who lay their lives at his feet. 

Take a moment to dwell on these words, which were the final words sung at Westminster Abbey and which formed part of the Scripture readings. Consider, where else can such amazing and certain hope be found?

“Finish, then, thy new creation;

true and spotless let us be.

Let us see thy great salvation

perfectly restored in thee.

Changed from glory into glory,

till in heav’n we take our place,

till we cast our crowns before thee,

lost in wonder, love and praise.”

“Where, O death, is your victory?

    Where, O death, is your sting?”

 The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law.  But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Corinthians 15:55-57)

Shane Warne and our own mortality

/ MurrayCampbell

I think it is fair to say that the whole nation is in mourning. The cricket world is in shock. At the age of 52, Shane Warne is dead. This legitimate Aussie larrikin and cricket legend (and legend is no exaggerated term) died suddenly on Friday night, apparently from a heart attack. To his family and friends, we cannot understand your loss and grief, and yet we want to mourn with you. Australia has lost one of our greatest ever sportsmen, and yet you have lost a Dad, a mentor, a friend.

It seems as though everyone has a Warnie connection. Conversations are taking place across our streets as neighbours and mates talk about some special moment with Shane Warne or memories of a special ball they witnessed him bowl at the G one day. I never met him, even though we share the same backyard. His local cricket club is one my boys play matches against regularly. Warnie’s former school is literally a one minute drive down the road from my church. Like millions of Aussies, I spent many a day admiring his cricketing genius as we watched him on the television or at the MCG.

The shock of Shane Warne’s unexpected death is doing more than creating conversations, The Age published this piece, “Warne’s untimely death a wake-up call for men in their 40s and 50s”

Josh Gordon writes, “Shane Warne’s death from a suspected heart attack at the age of 52 has come as a wake-up call for middle aged-men across the country, many of whom took to WhatsApp groups Saturday morning to question their sense of mortality.”

Yes! Aussie men aren’t generally the most congenial visitors to the local GP, let alone verbalising their fears about mortality.  Visiting your local doctor for a check-up sounds like a pretty smart move. Now, I’m several years younger than Warnie and I’ve never smoked and never drunk the volume of alcohol that our famed Aussie cricketers are renowned for doing, but then again, avoiding such things is no guarantee of making a century. I mean, isn’t this the issue? None of us knows how long the innings will last. If Shane Warne’s passing has made you gasp in horror, talk to your GP. But let’s not stop with a stethoscope, blood pressure machine and cholesterol test. The question of our mortality goes well beyond what any doctor can observe and diagnose. 

The issue of human mortality is often laid hidden behind sterile rooms and hushed tones. When it comes to death, Aussies are not an upfront people. It’s not a subject for polite conversation. However, talk about death has become more urgent and real and public over the last two years. The COVID pandemic, especially in its earliest days, rushed forward the issue of mortality, entering people’s minds and even spoken on our lips. War in Ukraine is reminding us of the violent presence of death as does Afghanistan. And punctuating the thinly veiled pride and sense of masculine endurance is the sudden death of an Australian icon.

What are we to do with our mortality? How can we resolve this ignominious question? 

Death is the inevitable door that we long to avoid. For all our momentum in running away from the grave, we are all in fact heading along the same road: the great and the small,  the iconic and the average.

As a minister of a church, I have often spoken with people who are approaching death. There is always sadness for death is a great enemy, destroying life and ripping apart relationships. Rarely does anyone want the innings to end, perhaps ‘retire not out’ but no one wants to be bowled. Yet, we do not choose the day or manner of our dying, whether we are given time to assess our end or it comes suddenly and without warning. Ignoring the question will not fix it and save us. 

If it is time for middle-aged men to ‘wake up’ and get a check up, it is also wise and imperative that we find the ultimate answer to death. 

My Twitter feed has been filled with ‘RIP Shane Warne’ and ‘RIP Rodney Marsh’. When a person dies we often resort to this simple and hopeful phrase. I was reminded today of how the saying has been shortened.  The phrase was originally and purposefully longer: “Rest in peace and rise in glory”. This is a Christian idiom that harkens back to the early centuries AD and whose meaning is found in the Bible and rests in the person and work of Jesus. As the Scripture says, 

“Just as people are destined to die once, and after that to face judgment, so Christ was sacrificed once to take away the sins of many; and he will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring salvation to those who are waiting for him.” (Hebrews 10:27-28)

If this is indeed the time to evaluate our mortality, then may I suggest we need to go no further than the One who died and went to the grave, only to defeat death with resurrection life. You see, the answer is staring at us and has been for millennia. We have heard the words spoken at funerals, in school chapels and at church. These living and hope bringing words are found in every Gideon’s Bible and available to us on our smartphones. 

Young and old, men and women, cricket devotees and those who should be, if we are serious about answering the question of our own mortality, then believe the One who has gone ahead of us and conquered death for us, that it may not have the final word:

“When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: “Death has been swallowed up in victory.”

“Where, O death, is your victory?
    Where, O death, is your sting?”

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Corinthians 15:54-57)

Facing our mortality

/ MurrayCampbell

When beggars die, there are no comets seen; The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.  (Shakespeare, Julius Caesar, Act 2, Scene 2)

In any given population there will be a few individuals whose death will be reported by media and mourned by grieving masses. Some people make the news, not because of their life but because of the tragic circumstances in which they died. Many more will people die without even a footnote in the local obituary, and yet their death is as a real and the grief from loved ones as profound.

More celebrities will depart this world in 2017, and countless thousands of anonymous people will join them in the grave. This isn’t being facetious or morbid, but stating what is inevitable

As we have been assailed with stories of people dying we respond to death with revulsion, and rightly so, for it is a destroyer of life and friendship; death is our enemy. When we have witnessed someone suffer for an extended season, there can be relief in their passing, but it is not their life that wish to see ending but their suffering.

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Their mortality reminds us of our own, and it is wise for us to give due consideration to our beliefs and hopes over the grave.

It is not uncommon for people to sentimentalise and even trivialise death. Perhaps we do so in the hope of defying this great adversary.

Death is nothing at all.

It does not count.

I have only slipped away into the next room.

Nothing has happened.

(Henry Scott-Holland)

Another approach, and one that is probably more common, is that of rage and anger, as Dylan Thomas famously cried,

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

There is however an alternative to uncertain optimism and despair, and it is spelled out in the good news of Jesus Christ,

“Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed— in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality. When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: “Death has been swallowed up in victory.

“Where, O death, is your victory?

    Where, O death, is your sting?” The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

(1 Corinthians 15:51-57)

Throughout the life and ministry of Jesus Christ we see God who empathises with those who grieve. John ch.11 records the story of one of Jesus’ close friend, Lazarus, falling ill and dying. When Jesus reached the town where Lazarus lived and died, he mourned with the family and outside the tomb “he wept”.

Jesus not only sat alongside those in the midst of grief, but he has walked the path of death. He endured its full horrors, not because of sickness or tragic circumstances, but he chose to enter into death out of love for humanity and to face hell for us. Indeed, in the hours before his crucifixion he told his disciples, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.” (Matt 26:38)

We are all approaching death, faster than we imagine; it is the great wall that cannot be avoided. But it does not have to be journeyed alone, and it does not have to endured without certain hope of resurrection. Imprinted into the fabric of the deathly world is the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead; real, historic, physical, and forever resurrection.

We can choose to pin our hopes on imagined sleep-like permanence, or fight off all thoughts of death until the moment arrives and we explode with fearful rage, or we can place our confidence in the one who has defeated death and who promises eternal resurrection to all who accept him, to the celebrity and the unknown, the beggar and the prince.