the all-nighter

So I pulled an all-nighter last night. Haven’t done that since a final project was due on Amos chapter 5 in seminary sometime back in the 90’s. I had the privilege of sitting beside a family as they said goodbye to their wife and mother. I entered the room moments after she had passed; and we spent the night remembering good times and hard times, crying and laughing, grieving and celebrating.

There is nothing more painful than losing the ones we love to the cold grip of death. But to a world that was all too familiar with infant mortality, horrific suffering, and the false promises of charlatans, St. Paul offered a completely different view of the world:

we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. we believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. 1Thessalonians 4:13-14

The Greco-Roman world had no concept of a personal afterlife. Aristotle would sum it up by saying, “Life is short; art is long.” It was into this world that Christians saw the greatest of opportunities. Despite the derision, neglecting the mockery, Christians held out a different view for the way that life could be. And in so doing, changed their world.

As we gathered around that lifeless body, it would have been easy to believe our eyes and weep over an ending to a life that was too nasty and brutish, and way too short. And we did weep; but not as those who have no hope. For as surely as Jesus painfully gasped and exhaled his last, he pulled an all-nighter of his own, and just as surely filled his lungs again with the breath of life on that Easter morning. We must still endure this long night; but dawn is breaking sooner than we know.

That’s the kind of hope that pulls you through a long night. That’s the kind of hope that can change the world.