1 Corinthians 15:1-26, 51-57 - May 12, 2024

Last week, we dove into the very famous “wedding text” from First Corinthians. You know, “Love is patient, love is kind,” and so on. This week we head to the other end of the spectrum and have one of the more famous funeral/burial texts: “We will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet… But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

It is intriguing that Paul wraps up his letter with a discussion on death because we aren’t so keen to do so, even though it is all around us. We tend to deflect, cope, and dress up death with flowers and makeup to lessen its sting. And yet, death does sting - even still. Death comes. Death is certain. 

We prepare for it as best we can. We held four various end-of-life preparation workshops to do just that. It helps get some ducks in a row, and planning might help us feel like we’ve got a little bit of control - that we’ve done what we can - but it doesn’t stave off death. Death has a way of demanding attention. Whether we ignore it or not, whether we plan for it or not, no matter what we feel about it, death cannot be avoided.

To go a little bit more broad with this, when we think of death, we often think of the end of a life, but there are other types of deaths too - less extreme, for sure, but impactful nonetheless. There are deaths of marriages, friendships, abilities, routines, and habits - death touches many aspects of our lives and our world.

Death is hard. We often want answers, especially when someone else is grieving. We want to say something that eases their pain and brings comfort. So, we fall back on platitudes and cliches - something someone told us long ago, something that maybe, kinda-sorta helped us out - or we thought helped us out. Grandma’s playing pinochle with St. Peter. The Family Circus family members are watching from the clouds. “God needed him more than you.” It’s well-meaning but often shallow, short-sighted, and overly simple. (I guess that might be the definition of “platitude.”)

Death is brutal. We have to deal with it in many aspects of our lives - from literal to metaphorical, from personal to communal. And we want to give platitudes.

But platitudes are not the Gospel. 

Paul, on the other hand, gives us full-bore Gospel. There is no skirting around the edges. Christ has died. Christ was buried. 

At the end of his letter, Paul gives a passionate argument, stating his case that if Jesus truly was raised from the dead, then he had to be actually, completely dead. Like, dead-as-a-doornail dead. He didn’t bide his time in a heavenly carpentry shop until Easter Sunday. He was in that tomb, dead. 

Death is real. And that stings, that hurts, that is final. Paul is emphatic. 

But then, Paul is even more emphatic that Jesus is raised. Because if Jesus wasn’t really, truly raised from the dead to live a new life, then neither will we and all this stuff is just bologna. 

Paul started his letter by saying that the cross is foolishness to this world. And now, Paul culminates with what that foolishness means: it’s Gospel. Christ has died. Christ is risen. 

Paul isn’t giving out trite sentiments or shallow sayings. Paul isn’t simply trying to make people feel better. Paul is preaching the Gospel truth that yes, death is real, but death is not final. Christ, who once was dead is now alive. Death has been defeated. 

Christ is the first fruits of those who have died. See, Paul says, there is more to come! We, too, will be raised to new life. Just as death came through one person, Adam, so life comes through one person, Jesus. Christ is the beginning of the end for all that keeps us from God. Christ has died. Christ is risen. 

Because God, in raising Christ from the dead, has defeated death.
The same death that causes us fear.
The same death that we try to avoid and pretty up.
The same death that changes, ruins, ends our lives.
The very same death that has a stinging hold on us.
God in Christ has won over death. That death. All of death. The tomb can’t hold us. A grave will not win. 

So we, along with Paul, can emphatically shout, “Where, O death, is your victory? Where is your sting? Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” We - all - will be raised because of Jesus. We will be given resurrection life - life like Jesus, life out of death. We will be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. 

Yes, we will be changed at the trumpet. Even the little deaths of our lives will one day be changed. Resurrection changes us - will change us, surely, but we are changed now, too. We know, even this, even where we are, death will not win. New life, new gatherings, new community will happen. They can happen now and one day. 

And while death does hurt us, while we may emotionally lash out, distance ourselves from one another… or we become depressed, or we avoid the pain, or we pretty it up… though death still comes, the promise in Christ’s resurrection is that death lasts only for a bit. Easter happens, not because of us, but because God gives us life. In Christ, life is certain. 

Paul tells us that God has the final say on the existence of everything in the cosmos. Not death; God. And to use the word one more time, Paul is emphatic that God has won. God has us. Christ has died. Christ is risen. And Christ will come again, bringing victorious life to a broken world. 

Death is real. Death is not final. But God’s Word is. Christ is. Resurrection is. “Love never ends.” 

Death has been swallowed up in victory.
Christ is alive. Because he lives, we, too, shall live.
That’s the Gospel.

That’s what God has done for us through the foolishness of the cross.
That’s what God has done for us through the empty tomb.
That’s what God has done. For in Jesus, life has the final word.