Each Sunday and solemnity, we profess in the Nicene Creed that we believe in the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. What does this mean?

          Of course, we know that we are professing faith in the Resurrection of Christ, that after three days in the tomb He rose again, coming back to offer all who would believe in Him the forgiveness of their sins and the chance at life eternal with Him in Heaven. But professing faith in the Resurrection doesn’t just mean the resurrection of Jesus Christ. We are professing our faith in our own resurrection as well!

          This faith in the bodily resurrection was already expressed in the Old Testament. The prophet Daniel tells us today that in the last days, “Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake; some shall live forever, others shall be an everlasting horror and disgrace,” depending on the final destiny of each person. At the end of time, Christ will raise our mortal bodies to be with our souls: Increasing your glory in Heaven, or increasing your torment in Hell.

          There existed in our Lord’s day, though, an influential group of Jews, the Sadducees, who denied not only this general Resurrection at the last day, but even the existence of spiritual creatures such as angels. Our Lord has strong words for these Sadducees: “Is not this why you are wrong, that you know neither the scriptures nor the power of God?” In denying the Resurrection, the Sadducees deny God’s power, which is greater than death.

          If we, like the Sadducees, do not appreciate the greatness of our Lord’s power over death in the Resurrection, it is perhaps because we do not appreciate the gravity of death. At this time of year, when both the Church and even the natural world around us point us toward thoughts of the last things, it is good to consider the reality of death. We do not think much about death. We fear it, mourn it, and perhaps even long for it. But rarely do we think about it. Why, we ought to ask, does death exist in the first place?

The natural response to death is sorrow and mourning. But why? Why do people from around the world, from many different cultures and even religions, share a common response to death? Yes, there are differences, of course. Some approach death with a stoic attitude that flees from displays of emotions. Others are precisely the opposite, drowning grief in a flood of tears. (Which is probably more human, since it is more honest.) Some cultures display dramatic swings of emotion, going from intense displays of grief to feasting and revelry (perhaps even more human yet).

Yet there it is, in every culture throughout the world, the inseparability of death and grief. Instinctively, all men and women know that death is not good. Written deep into human nature is a truth that we also know through Revelation: Death is not the way things were supposed to be. St. Paul tells us that, “the wages of sin is death” (Rom 6:23). Were it not for the first sin of our first human parents, that original sin whose effects still plague us all, death would never have come into the world. Adam and Eve enjoyed the gift of immortality. That does not mean that they necessarily would still be alive today, but their passing to the life of the blessed would have been painless and blissful.

The reality of sin is what makes death inevitably filled with grief: We know, deep down inside of ourselves, that this is not the way that things are supposed to be. The pain of loss that we feel, the hesitancy to confront our destiny, is the result of sin. This is why the Church traditionally uses black vestments at Masses for the deceased, including funerals, showing Her closeness to those who grieve, and expressing Her faith that there is something profoundly not right about death.

It is little surprise, then, that a world that increasingly does not believe in sin also struggles to confront the reality of death. We have so many polite ways of getting around death. Someone is not dead, he is deceased. People do not die, they fall asleep or pass away. Or, people are said to have entered eternal life (a dangerously presumptuous way of putting it).

          Mourning is no longer seen as an important part of adjusting to this loss, of recognizing the gravity of death, but instead is seen as a burden. People flee from mourning by not having a funeral because they perceive that the emotional burden on their family will be too great. (Nothing could be further from the truth – the emotional burden from a lack of closure can be devastating.) Or, they choose to have a “celebration of life,” another attempt to hide from the stark reality of death.

          Those who plan and facilitate such “celebrations” are doubtlessly well intentioned. However, we need to stop and actually think about death. Death means something – it has a reality all of its own that cannot be determined by you or me. That reality is ignored when we merely celebrate the life of someone who was died without confronting the reality, and Christian meaning, of death.

          The Sacred Scriptures propose that death is the wages of sin, a tear in the fabric of the universe caused by original sin. It is an evil that mysteriously exists in the world, challenging us to overcome its power. To modern man, medicine seems to have triumphed over death. But medicine can only delay death, not conquer it. The reality of death demands not a solution but a Victor, and if modern man declines to confront the reality of death it is because he does not acknowledge the only One who can make sense of this great tragedy by triumphing over it, as He has done in His death and resurrection.

          Our denial of death is all the more severe because it leads us to deny the greatness of the Victory that Christ wants to share with us, and the gravity of the consequences of the bodily resurrection. As C.S. Lewis put it, echoing the words of the prophet Daniel, “You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilization—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendors. … It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations.”

          Every human person is immortal. The people we love, our children, our parents, our other family members: They are immortal! Our love for them moves us to desire and work for the greatest possible good for them: their eternal salvation.

          But also, those for whom we less easily have feelings of affection: the coworker who drives you crazy, the politician or news personality who makes your blood boil, or the inconsiderate or annoyingly slow driver on the road: They are immortal too! They will one day be, in C.S. Lewis’s words, “a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare.” To which destination will we help them by our actions and prayers?

          And then there are all those we do not see or so often overlook: the unborn, the poor, immigrants, those left out or left behind in our world. These too are immortal beings, to be treated with the gravity such a creature deserves.

The remedy for death is not fear nor avoidance, but the victory of Christ. Today, Christ desires to share that victory with us in the Eucharist, which is His resurrected, glorified body. In the Eucharist, we live Christ’s death and resurrection. It is the remedy against mortality, a foretaste of the heavenly glory that is to come. In the Eucharist, we are offered the grace to become those who, “shall shine brightly like the splendor of the firmament,” and, having “lead the many to justice shall be like the stars forever.”

          It is good for us to consider the reality of death – not to avoid it by polite circumlocutions, but to address this deep tear in the fabric of God’s original plan. We do so with confidence – confidence that Christ’s Resurrection has conquered the deceit of the Devil and restored human nature to its original goodness. Confidence that this life is not the end. Confidence that it is Christ’s victory over sin and death in His Resurrection and our participation therein – not “being a good person” – that will make it possible for our mortal bodies too to rise to newness of life once our days on this earth are complete. Confidence, last of all, that our Lord’s Body and Blood that He shares with us in the Eucharist, the glorified Body awaiting us where its members long to go, is the food for the journey on our pilgrimage to Heaven.

The Rev. Royce V. Gregerson

Parish Church of Our Lady of Good Hope, Fort Wayne

XXXIII Sunday through the Year, A.D. MMXXIV