I FELT VICTORY ENTER THE ROOM

Death is beautiful, the literary genius Oscar Wilde would have us believe. It’s not. Death is ugly. Death is uglier than its harbingers such as disease, catastrophes, war, violent crime, injuries. Death is hideously foul. Some have said death is a friend when it comes and takes the suffering, terminally ill. Not so. I understand the sentiment: The arrival of death sometimes ends the horrific suffering that every added minute of living would only prolong. But, no one calls cancer that precipitated that death “a friend.” Death is a member of the malevolent gang of Cancer and his associate symptoms that have attacked and ravaged the terminally ill. Death is just the last one of that gang to deliver his finishing blow. No, Death is no friend--ever. Death is a thief. Death is a heartless evictor. Death is a thug. Death is, well, a murderer. In the words of scripture, Death is an enemy. When Death comes, he comes with the airs of an invading conqueror assured by the rate of his success—he always has his way, overcomes his victim, and succeeds in his deed. Death is victorious—but, only apparently so. Over decades of pastoring, I’ve often been in the room when Death arrived. I’ve seen his ugliness, sensed his blackness, felt his evil, witnessed the destruction that follows his assault. Each time he’s come and finished his foray, he’s succeeded. He’s left his victim ravaged, inert, and vanquished; and loved ones crushed, devasted, hurting, grieving. Yes, I’ve been there when the enemy Death has come. But, there’s something else. See, Death isn’t the only one I’ve experienced enter the room. In the early years of my pastorate, I had been called to Hospice. The wife of one of our elderly members, stricken with cancer, was imminently about to pass. Even in the dim lights, the awful ravages of the disease upon its sufferer were evident. The family and I encircled the bed and prayed, quoted Psalm 23, and maybe sang. Moments later, I felt the entrance of a cold shadow darker than those cast by the room’s lusterless light. I knew that Death, the enemy, had come. He paused momentarily in a distant corner of the room close to the ceiling, but the darkness there could not hide his ugliness, his meanness, his blackness. Then he swopped down upon the sufferer struggling to breathe. Death delivered his blow with relish, stealing, killing, and destroying. Yet, inexplicably, at that moment, into the gloomy dimness of the room, heavy with the awful evidence of the disease, the sadness of the weeping of the family, the silence from the conspicuous absence of the departed’s breathing, I felt something else arrive more prevalently than Death. I cannot explain how—not in that atmosphere, not in those circumstances, not with such hurt and loss. But I did. I felt what only one word can possibly describe--Victory. I felt Victory enter the room. Death had come. Nothing or none could arrest his coming. Defeat was the inevitable outcome of any effort to resist his marauding, murderous attack. Yet, I suddenly felt Victory. How? Why? I said above it was unexplainable. That’s not really accurate. See, the one who’d just passed was a believer in Jesus Christ. That’s why Victory came into the room. Jesus had Himself previously met up with Death. And it wasn’t Death that was left standing. It was Jesus. Jesus defeated Death. And Grave while He was at it. When in that hospice room I experienced Death enter only to have Victory follow him, that wasn’t the first time Victory followed Death. Death came to Jesus on the cross. Death accompanied Jesus to the tomb and set about securing Him there. But Victory followed Death into the sepulcher. And only one came out. Victory. Jesus rose from the dead. He who is the Resurrection resurrected and defeated Death. Resurrection is the Victory over Death. If Jesus defeated Death, why does Death keep showing up? Why does Death apparently win? The Apostle Paul said the last enemy to be destroyed is death. This does not mean Jesus has not already defeated death. His empty tomb testifies He has. It means that we have not yet realized, experienced this victory and will not until we too are resurrected. Until that time, Paul says, Jesus is reigning and will do so until the Death He’s defeated, will be put under Him. Paul goes on to explain this will happen at the resurrection of those who have died trusting Christ. Yesterday at the graveside service of one of our departed saints, I read a portion of the chapter (1 Cor 15) in which Paul elucidates the above. I read his declarative announcement of Death’s defeat, “Death is swallowed up in Victory.” I read on as Paul proceeds to taunt defeated Death, “O Death, where is your sting, O, Grave, where is your victory.” I read on as Paul gives thanks for that coming Victory and identifies from where it comes: “Thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Yes, Death may barge into the room. If so, Victory will follow. Victory’s coming. And Victory, not Death, is a beautiful thing. --Pastor Clifford Hurst