Christian Grief at Easter: Connecting the Truth of Easter with my Reality of Grief

Connecting the Truth of Easter with my Reality of Grief

Isaiah 25:8           He will destroy death forever

For the past few years I have been torn in my celebration at Easter. Since my brother died a lot of the verses and phrases that are commonly used within a church service or worship song—such as ‘death has lost its sting’—have me muttering and disagreeing, and sometimes feeling angry with God and all those worshipping sharing in this joy that death is no longer the end game. For me, hearing people sing “now death, where is your sting?” makes me want to stand up and shout “it’s here, it’s in me, it’s in grief and mourning and life!” For me, the sting is real because I’ve been left behind. Of course what the verse really speaks of is everlasting life in the Kingdom of God, and that we should be thankful and victorious knowing we will one day be reunited with our Saviour; and loved ones.

At my brother’s funeral we sang Thine Be the Glory as our first song, and when that song was put forward for my university’s Christian Union (CU) one week when I was in the worship team, I almost refused to sing it. This was the first time the song had been used around me since Josh’s funeral. I mentioned this to a friend at CU before worship began and she said she views the song and the line ‘death hath lost its sting’ as triumphant because although it still hurts for us, we know those people we miss are safe; we know their spirit is gone from their bodies, not sitting under 6ft of dirt or scattered in a field, but actually having a party so perfect and rapturous we wouldn’t be able to comprehend it if we tried. She said that for her, death has lost the sting of separation; she believes she will see her loved ones again, it’s just a matter of time.

I have often heard people say that the death of a close loved one has brought them closer to God or turned them from their faith completely. For me it surely made me believe in God more than ever, but for at least the first year after Josh’s death I resented God with a fire that could burn down a city. I couldn’t have turned away from someone I was so awfully angry with. I had so much anger inside of me, as I still do, but I was unable to reconcile this anger and forgive, because the person I had to forgive was this apparently all-knowing creature I can’t touch, see or feel. If He was all-knowing, shouldn’t He have stopped it? But I have always held the belief that my God is a fair God: He would never cure one boys incurable illness, that wouldn’t be fair. I knew in my heart that nothing anyone on Earth could do would have saved Josh from his early death, so I was angry that God had put me into my family, that He had allowed me to love so deeply this person who would be gone so soon, who wouldn’t even outlive his cat, whose muscles would slowly destroy themselves, who I would have to watch grow weaker my whole life until the end of his. But at the same time I wouldn’t want to imagine my life without him, my fun, brave, silly big brother who brought me and my siblings and my parents years of joy, wisdom and laughter. But after his death, all the world would sting: I would feel a ‘sting’ in church, watching children stand where his coffin lay, miming actions to ‘Fishy Songs’; I would feel a ‘sting’ on each anniversary or birthday without him; I can feel the sting of death every time someone asks how many siblings I have. The sting was and is so very real.

Somewhere through that first year without my brother, I came across a few bible verses and sermons about death and bereavement which I have clung to very tightly, the main one being “never again will death have the last word” from Romans 6:9. I actually asked if this could be put on Josh’s headstone, but a different verse was agreed on. I still intend to save up and engrave a stone with this scripture on, to lay at the foot of his grave. I cling to this verse because it gives me hope. Death losing it’s sting implies we shouldn’t be hurt by death, but Romans 6:9 tell you why you no longer need to be hurt by death. Of course this revelation doesn’t come overnight, you can’t choose how you feel and I still grieve and mourn heavily for my brother in my ordinary days. I don’t believe any bible verse will take away my grief. I don’t think I’d want one to, either, as my grief is also an expression of love and reminds me of the great relationship I shared with an amazing person and reminds me of how I am now changed for the loss of these. However anything that gives me hope is, I believe, worth my time and value. So I cling to this verse and know that one day I will see my brother again, that his incredible spirit has not been wasted or trapped in a coffin, it’s in Heaven enjoying the feast and party of eternity with Jesus.

Easter is a time when there are a lot of songs being sung about one man, God in flesh, rising from His own death. Lots of verses are spoken about how we shouldn’t mourn for Christians as they don’t need our mourning, having been saved. Sometimes this just reminds me that I have yet to be saved and confirms the feeling of being left behind. Last year however, the second Easter since my brother’s death, our vicar gave a very good sermon about the death of Christians and our relationship with grief after their passing. One of the things he likened it to is a daffodil bulb. Daffodils, heavily associated with springtime and Easter, don’t flower all year round, and for surface appearance seem to die shortly after flowering, just like how the human life seems very short and we die and retreat into bones and dust. Over Summer, Autumn and Winter we lose the bright vibrant daffodil and are left with no trace above ground, but we know the bulb stays underground, keeping its life but with no outward appearance. My vicar likened this to our spirits remaining real and alive after death, even though our bodies have died and decayed. We know that one day, we will see that beautiful strong yellow flower again. Just because the flower is gone, just because my brother is gone, just because Jesus was dead and buried, we still have hope that they will rise again, as Jesus did at Easter. The rest of Romans 6 is, for me, a declaration of faith. It reads that if we know that Jesus physically died, and believe that He physically rose again and ascended to Heaven after death, we too will physically die and our spirits ascend to Heaven. It declares that Jesus beating death means that death is beaten—the simplest way to explain Easter. Death is no longer the end-game, but eternal life with Jesus is. And so never again will death have the last word.

The rest of Romans 6:8-9 is this:

What we believe is this: If we get included in Christ’s sin-conquering death, we also get included in his life-saving resurrection. We know that when Jesus was raised from the dead it was a signal of the end of death-as-the-end. Never again will death have the last word.         - (Message)

If we died with Christ, we know we will also live with him. Christ was raised from the dead, and we know that he cannot die again. Death has no power over him now.       - (NCV)

Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. 9 For we know that since Christ was raised from the dead, he cannot die again; death no longer has mastery over him. – (NIV)