With the tsunami of endless information created by the current pandemic the past two months and with last Monday’s thoughtful observance of Memorial Day, our country has frequently focused its attention recently on the fact of life called death.

A careful observer will quickly note that the rider on the pale horse (cf. Revelation 6:8) is greatly feared in every corner of our world. A cursory reading of the New Testament will also quickly show that such fear was not found among the first century Christians. On one occasion, for example, the apostle Paul declared to his brethren, “I am ready not to be bound only but also to die at Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus” (Acts 21:13). On a different occasion, he wrote to his beloved brethren, “For me to live is Christ and to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21).

Clearly, the New Testament’s perspective on death is much different than the dark, haunting dread which permeates the hearts of many today. With perfect spiritual vision, the New Testament contains three beautiful descriptors of why death is such a blessing to those who die in the Lord (Revelation 14:13).

According to the New Testament, death is an exodus. Though this word is not employed in our English translations, it is found in the original Greek text. On the Mount of Transfiguration when Moses and Elijah appeared with Jesus, they are conversing about His upcoming exodus (“decease” KJV) in Jerusalem (Luke 9:31). Peter’s final epistle was written in the valley of the shadow of death; he was going to put off this temporary shelter, his tabernacle of flesh. Therefore, he wrote so that his readers would have certain things they could always be in remembrance of after his exodus (“decease” KJV) (2 Peter 1:14-15).

As is so graphically recorded in the second book of the Bible when Moses led Abraham’s children out of the shackles of slavery and oppression into a state of redemption and free- dom, “exodus” is a gloriously beautiful term. It speaks of leav- ing an existence of limitation, restriction, and unpleasantness and beginning a limitless, unrestricted, joyous life. Burdens, hardships, and weariness are passed; peace and freedom from death, sorrow, tears, and pain are eternally present.

According to the New Testament, death is a departure. In his final epistle, the apostle Paul looked to the future and wrote, “the time of my departure is at hand” (2 Timothy 4:6). This nautical term—analusis—refers to the point in which an ocean liner has been finally laded with its cargo and is loosed from the restraints of the port and the lines holding it to the shore; it is heading out into its intended environment—the vast waters of the sea.

What a wondrous picture this presents. Life on earth is like a ship in port. No one purchases a ticket and then boards such a ship with the desire for it to stay perpetually docked. The seaworthy vessel is intentionally designed to leave its terrestrial shore and go out into a larger, fuller, less-constricted environment.

The same is true about humanity. We have been created with eternity in our heart (Ecclesiastes 3:11), and, as Solomon so eloquently declares in his sermon titled “Ecclesiastes”, the material things of life cannot satisfy the deepest, most intense cravings of the heart and soul. Death is the point in which we leave the more constricted, less vibrant part of our existence and move out into the larger, better part.
According to the New Testament, death is a homecoming. When discussing death with the brethren in Corinth, the inspired penman wrote, “We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord” (2 Corinthians 5:8). The verb translated “present” in the KJV or “home” in the ASV is endemeo; it literally means “to be among one’s people”. In verse 8 and in verse 9 of 2 Corin- thians 5 it is used in contrast with ekdemeo, “to be away from home”.

So far in my life I have traveled out of the United States about a dozen times. On several occasions I have traveled alone and been away from home for as many as four weeks. Though I have rarely relished the thought of being airborne for almost 24 hours, I have always thrilled at the idea of going home and reuniting with my beloved wife, family, brethren, and friends.

In the first century, these three New Testament truths about death were not an occasional milk-and-cookies snack; they were the meat-and-potatoes diet that fed our brethren’s vibrant and fearless faith. In large part, it is the bedrock that makes a disciple of Christ the salt of the earth, the light of the world, a city set on a hill, a lit candle on a candlestick (Matthew 5:13-15).

Faith in these three truths about death is a most distinct difference between the sons of light and the sons of darkness.

Then and now.

- John Chowning