Is Death an Enemy or a Friend?
a theological reflection on human finitude
I finished seminary! After seven years of classes, I now have a Master’s in Theology (MAT) from Fuller Seminary. I’ll celebrate officially in June!
For now, I want to leave you with some excerpts from my final paper. I took a class on “Death, Loss, Grief and Dying” with Professor Bill Roozeboom, mostly to help me keep processing the death of my daughter, Julia, but also to learn more about what it means to live as a follower of Jesus in light of the reality of death. I’ll spend the next few weeks offering you some of my insights.
Here’s Part 1:
When my toddler died suddenly from leukemia, I was met with two contrasting responses. Many people who’ve been touched by cancer used war language to describe it. My daughter became a “leukemia warrior” even though her “fight” was only twenty-four hours long. Another narrative was that God was “gentle” to her, preventing her from having to do years of chemotherapy, and letting her die quickly. Neither of these narratives have been particularly comforting to me as my brain tries to make sense of her dying. Now, almost two years later, I still wonder if death is an enemy or a friend. Was it an enemy or a friend to my daughter whose own white blood cells rapidly multiplied? Jesus wants us to have life abundantly, so is there any of Jesus’s life in death (John 10:10)? Is there anything good about our finitude?
This enemy and friend language in connection to death has been used and debated throughout church history. Davison and Evans in their book, Care for the Dying, explain the arguments of the church fathers: St. Augustine viewed death as an enemy. 1 Corinthians 15:26 says “the last enemy to be destroyed is death.” St. Ambrose viewed death as a friend. Paul writes that his “desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better” (Philippians 1:23).[1]
The debate continues today with contemporary theologians. J. Todd Billings who writes about his own journey with cancer, in Rejoicing in Lament, says, “It may feel like death itself is a kind of grace…even then, death is an enemy.”[2] His invitation to action therefore, when faced with death, is to join with the Psalmists, and lament. Mitchell and Anderson in their book, All Our Losses, All Our Griefs, pose an intriguing thesis: “Only when a life is rounded off by death are we able to see it whole. Our finitude is a sign of providence. God, who has given us what we are, has set the limits to our existence; to be human is to be finite, and that is good.”[3]
Death is the ultimate marker of our finitude, our limitations, our lack of control. It is a part of what it means to be human. We are not God. We are limited creatures. And even in the new creation, after God makes all things new, we will STILL be creatures, living under the mystery and majesty of God.
In my next post, I will explore more of how our limits as human beings can indeed be good, and how Jesus shows us what it means to be fully human.
[1] Andrew Davison and Sioned Evans. Care for the Dying: A practical and pastoral guide. (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2014), 14.
[2] J. Todd. Billings. Rejoicing in Lament: Wrestling with Incurable Cancer & Life in Christ. (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Brazos Press, 2015), 11.
[3] Kenneth R. Mitchell and Herbert Anderson. All Our Losses, All Our Griefs: Resources for Pastoral Care. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1983), 25.