INTERSECT | Grieve...With Hope

1 Thessalonians 4:13-18

I first remember crying over someone’s passing in 1983. I was seven years old at the time, and I didn’t know the person who died. But in my home state of Alabama, it was hard not to know who Bear Bryant was. The grief was short-lived, of course, because I didn’t really know the famous college football coach.

I wish I could say that was my last experience with grief. However, like you, I have had many other brushes with grief over time, including the death of both parents. When we face the death of those we know and love, grief isn’t short-lived. When grief settles in, what do you do?

Some people seek to cope by ignoring it, pushing on through sheer willpower and suppressing any sign of emotional hurt. Another person might try to cope with grief through alcohol or substance abuse, a temporary and harmful way to numb the pain of loss.

If you have been touched by the loss of someone close, Paul’s words in 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 provide a foundational text for dealing with grief. In these short words, Paul reminded us the Christian’s greatest weapon against grief is the hope of the gospel. Consider three simple instructions from the passage.

Grieve because you are human (verse 13). Grief is natural for the Christian. Experiencing no grief at the passing of a loved one is unnatural, even unhealthy. The Bible never says Christians shouldn’t grieve. Instead, it says Christians should grieve with hope—not a wish or unfounded hope—a hope grounded in the gospel.

Paul didn’t want the Thessalonians uninformed or ignorant about grief. It seems these new Christians had real questions regarding what happened to loved ones when they died. Sadly, we still encounter uninformed or misguided views of what happens when a Christian dies. I often hear people say God needed another angel. Scripture is clear: human beings are human beings, and angels are angels. In our eternal state, we don’t change over from one to the other. But what really happens? I will answer that question in a moment, but for now, let me drive the point home:
We grieve because we are human.

If we aren’t careful about how we talk about this subject, we might be guilty of communicating that grief isn’t normal or is something you should just get over or snap out of. Careless words might communicate that if the one grieving really had faith, he or she wouldn’t be so sad—being selfish, in fact, to want the loved one here rather than Heaven. So the reasoning goes. And this way of talking about grief isn’t ultimately helpful.

In A Grief Observed, C.S. Lewis pulled back the curtain on his struggle to cope with his wife’s untimely death. His words were raw and unfiltered as he wrestled with the reality of why and how her death happened. His candid words give readers a glimpse into the seemingly endless battle of working through grief: “Aren't all these notes the senseless writings of a man who won't accept the fact that there is nothing we can do with suffering except to suffer it?... How often—will it be for always?—how often will the vast emptiness astonish me like a complete novelty and make me say, ‘I never realized my loss till this moment?’ The same leg is cut off time after time.”

Some in the world of psychology and counseling have identified five stages of grief. While not everyone goes through all five stages, even one is painful. Grief comes to us in different ways. It can sneak up on you in unexpected ways. It can settle in on you.

In this short verse, Paul gave us permission to grieve. Grieve in a way that is different than the world, but still grieve. Grief is natural for the Christian, but it is affected by a supernatural hope in Jesus.

Hope because you are a Christian (verses 14-17). The Christian’s hope, spelled out in verses 14-17, is not wishful thinking but fixed upon the person and work of Jesus. In this section, Paul linked the resurrection of Jesus to the resurrection of Christian believers. His resurrection secures our resurrection.

The metaphor of sleep found here describes death three times: “them which are asleep” (verse 13), “those also which sleep” (verse 14), and “them which are asleep” (verse 15). We know it is a metaphor because Paul continued in verse 16: “The dead in Christ shall rise first.” This phrase or metaphor does not mean a person’s soul or spirit “sleeps” in death but communicates the idea of rest and peace.

The Bible teaches that in the moment of a Christian’s death, his or her spirit goes to the Lord. We find this in 2 Corinthians 5:8, where Paul said to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. At the second coming of Christ, these believers will be given a resurrected and glorified body and will return with Him.

We find a beautiful illustration of what it means to sorrow with hope in the life of Jesus Himself when His friend Lazarus died. In John 11:35, we find the simple words: “Jesus wept.”

Though the shortest verse in the Bible, John 11:35 contains one of the most important truths for us to understand about sorrow. Jesus wept, even though He fully knew He was about to raise Lazarus from the dead. Yet, confronted with the death of His friend and the pain of loss for Mary and Martha, Jesus still wept. He grieved…with hope of resurrection.

As Christians, we base our great hope on the day Jesus Christ will return, when we will be reunited with all loved ones who died in the Lord.

Share grief because you are family (verse 18). “Comfort one another with these words.” What words? The words we just read, the gospel. Now, we must be careful when encouraging people during times of loss. Sometimes, we feel the need just to say something, and we forget how hard it is to hear and receive a well-meaning but poorly timed and painful statement.

Joni Erickson Tada had a diving accident as a teen and has been a quadriplegic for decades. She once recalled well-meaning friends who offered “comforting” words that struck Joni to the core. They quoted Romans 8:28, telling her things work together for good, and James 1:3, encouraging her to welcome her trials, and to “rejoice in suffering” based on Romans 5. All are right and true biblical mandates, but when your heart is being wrung out like a sponge, sometimes hearing a laundry list of good biblical reasons about what has happened is like rubbing salt in the wound.

When people suffer great trauma and grief, they don’t want answers, because answers don’t reach the problem where it hurts: in the heart.

Sharing the grief of others doesn’t mean offering a single statement of encouragement beside the casket and walking away. That isn’t how grief works. Those in grief need the ongoing encouragement the gospel message brings. Sharing grief is a “one another” ministry. “Comfort one another with these words.” We share grief in this way because we are family, and we aren’t meant to endure grief alone. Rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15). If one of us suffers, all suffer together (1 Corinthians 12:26).

This is a passage about resurrection and reunion. I have been out of high school for almost three decades, and with each year, the next reunion seems less important. Don’t misunderstand, I enjoy seeing the people I went to school with, but a high school reunion isn’t a matter of life and death.

If it happens, it happens; if it doesn’t, it doesn’t. But I am staking all my hopes on another reunion—the one with all my loved ones who died in Christ. That is why I have hope in my grief.

About the Columnist: Dr. Barry Raper pastors Bethel FWB Church near Ashland City, Tennessee. He also serves as program coordinator for ministry studies at Welch College. Barry and his wife Amanda have five children.