20 But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. 21 For as by a man came death, by a man has come also the resurrection of the dead. 22 For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive. 23 But each in his own order: Christ the firstfruits, then at his coming those who belong to Christ. 24 Then comes the end, when he delivers the kingdom to God the Father after destroying every rule and every authority and power. 25 For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. 26 The last enemy to be destroyed is death. 27 For “God has put all things in subjection under his feet.” But when it says, “all things are put in subjection,” it is plain that he is excepted who put all things in subjection under him. 28 When all things are subjected to him, then the Son himself will also be subjected to him who put all things in subjection under him, that God may be all in all. —I Corinthians 15.20-28 

It has been just over seven months since my dad, Ron Grow, went to be with the Lord. He died a death of despair; he suffered immensely, in particular, the last two years of his life. My dad was an evangelist, church planter, pastor, and hospital chaplain over his career (along with other jobs, including a manager at a car lot). He was an extrovert, who in his good times, was exceedingly fun to be around. He would share Christ with whoever would listen; this was his orientation even as a pastor, always an evangelist. Some of my first memories of my dad are when we would go through a drive-thru at a fast-food restaurant. He would share Christ with the person taking our order, and then finish up at the window when we received our food. This sort of evangelistic mode shaped my dad’s life right up until the end; even when he was broken and defeated. 

But this was also the tragedy. My dad had many struggles (I won’t share them here). He died a bruised and broken reed. He was alone when he died in the rest-home, because of COVID restrictions. He didn’t die from COVID, he had COVID and fully recovered from that. He died because he was in total despair, and gave up. But the GoodNews, the news that he shared so frequently through his life, was that God in Christ never gave up on my dad. The Lord carried my dad into the heavenly regions the second he took his last breath on January 11, 2021 at 4am (pst). In that moment, in a twinkling of an eye, my dad slipped the bonds of his drudgery, and experience of hell on earth, and literally stepped foot into the presence of the risen Christ, the triune God, where there are God’s pleasures forevermore. My dad did not enter the heavenly realm in victory, but in defeat; nevertheless, he had someone standing in victory for Him in Jesus Christ. And so he finally knows the peace that surpasses all understanding; the peace that escaped him for so long on this earth. This was his only hope, he had given up on finding peace in the anguish of his life here. It is a tragedy that will forever break my heart; that is, until the tragedy is swallowed up by the beatific vision of the revealing of the sons of God. At that point I look forward to entering into the life my dad now knows as a translated child of God. I look forward to hugging my dad, and once again kissing him on his head; but this time, not while he’s suffering in agony, this time in the glorified fellowship that we will share together in the participatory bliss of being included in the perichoretic life of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  

The Apostle Paul, by the Holy Spirit, knew that there was one last final enemy to be dealt with for Jesus. Not that Jesus hasn’t dealt with it, but that we only experience that dealing by the faith of Christ; not by sight, yet. Death is genuinely an enemy, and to experience it, the loss it produces, is full of grief and overwhelming feelings of absence. This is the experience I continually have as I think about the loss of my dad. He was a complex. He was often a rascal, and hard to deal with. Nevertheless, of course, I love him. We all experience the loss produced by the ‘last enemy.’ This is what Jesus came to save us from. It isn’t a loss that lasts, it is a loss that has been redeemed and its absence has been given the presence (parousia) of the risen Christ. This is why when I grieve my dad, and the loss of others, I can do so with the certain hope that the sting of death has lost its venom. It hurts, but only temporarily. The eternity set before us, as that has been secured by the flesh and blood of the Son of Man for us, is as stable as God’s life is in itself for the other. This is the anchor of our hope as we feel the ravages of the last enemy pressing its ugly face against us. ‘Though we die, yet shall we live.’ My dad knows this actualistically now. His pain and anguish have indeed been swallowed up by the eternity of God’s everlasting refreshment; a refreshment that is like a well-spring that bubbles over with the living water of God’s eternal life.  

In the meantime, we feel loss and absence. The last enemy is still lurking like a roaring lion seeking who it may devour. But it is only like a lion, the actual Lion of God, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, has defeated death, triumphing over it, making a public spectacle of it at the cross. The absence of loved ones, and even those we don’t know, but know of, is tempered by the reality that death now is only temporary; but only for those who have given their lives to Jesus Christ. My dad knew so well, even in his most defeated moments, that his only hope was Jesus Christ. Even in his despair he would call out to Jesus, he would cry out in ‘Jesus’ name!’ He knew that this was the hope of God for him, and that Christ alone would break the seemingly bronze plate pressed upon him; that Christ alone would come and save him again and again, till finally that coming would result in being in His risen presence. This is the hope all people have been provided with through the Incarnation and Atonement of God in Christ; through the death, burial, and resurrection of the Lamb slain before the foundations of the world. To be in His life, is to be in the life that death cannot ultimately touch. It might touch us in the moment, but compared to eternity it does not in fact compare to the eternal weight of glory God has won for us in His humanity in Jesus Christ. My dad lives drenched in this Christ-gained reality, along with the fellowship of the triumphant saints. He lives in this reality, just as all the saints do, not by might, nor by power, but by the Spirit of the living God; by the grace of Christ, as that eternally crescendos in the courtroom of God for all who will (Jn 3.16). Hurry up; come Lord, Jesus; come quickly!