When Death Comes Too Soon
During Lent this year, death hovered near. My friend Bill, a beloved pastor in the community, underwent chemo for an unexpected brain tumor. The spouse of someone I provide spiritual care for was suddenly hospitalized. And well-known Christian writer, Rachel Held Evans was placed in a medically induced coma after the flu took a dangerous turn. On Holy Saturday I mentioned each of them in a tweet and pleaded, “This Holy Saturday I am crying out for life!”
All three of them died this week. Tomorrow I am attending two memorial services.
Bill was only 56 years old and blessed the lives of so many, including refugees. He persuaded his congregation to turn the parsonage into a home for transitioning immigrants. Bill died just weeks after the birth of a grandchild who will grow up without him. Rachel was 37 and had a profound impact through her writing and speaking, challenging the evangelical world to follow Christ more fully. She leaves behind a three old son and a little girl not even a year old.
It always startles me when good people die young. It goes against my gut sense of justice that God should and surely will look out for the faithful. Yet, even Jesus and his disciples died unfairly. The gospel does not offer the protection that I so wish it did.
I first began to reckon with this truth several years ago when I encountered another unexpected death. At the time I was ending a stable career, packing my bags, and moving across the country to pursue a new vocational dream, namely, a Th.M. degree at Duke Divinity School with hopes of going on for a Ph.D. in Old Testament. But amid my hopeful beginning, David died. I didn’t know David, but his death hit me hard. His dreams mirrored my own dreams, having just completed his Ph.D. in Old Testament at Duke. …