From Life to Death (and Vice-Versa)

Yesterday, an old college friend of mine passed away in his dorm room. No information has been released beyond his name and that the coroner believes it was an accidental death, not suicide. I found out via Facebook when I came home from work last night, and it felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach. Like a really mean joke. Like a vicious lie.

I didn't know him very well, but we sat together for two years in a few different instrumental ensembles. He had a big, goofy smile and a heart for Jesus like I've seen in few people. He was filled with joy on a daily basis, and he played a mean trumpet through that long hippie-hair. In fact, he looked an awful lot like my brother back when his hair was long. I even called him “brother” a few times because of the resemblance.

When I became aware of the news, was I shocked? Yes. Was I upset? Yes. Was I confused and filled with sorrow? Goodness, yes. But I was not depressed, angry, or despairing, and I'll tell you why.

I've seen some of my non-Christian friends mourn the deaths of their non-Christian family members, and it's a sad scene. I've seen them rage at the world and an uncaring God for allowing the tragedy to happen. I've witnessed a total emotional breakdown that ended up in a depression that took medication to control. It's not a pretty sight, and it's difficult for a particularly empathetic person such as myself to watch.

The reaction to death is much different in the Christian community as a whole; the circumstances following my friend's death are witness to that. The men of his hall vacated to allow the medical teams to do their jobs, then met on the front lawn and prayed together. The Wind Ensemble concert across campus was canceled to allow students to meet together and grieve. A memorial and prayer service was held less than four hours later, where songs were sung and students lifted each other up. The university president even came to pray and encourage. There's a level of peace, even in those first few painful hours, that transcends our sorrow.

Those without faith have nothing beyond this life to look forward to; death is an ultimatum, a finality, an end from which there is no escape. For the Christian, death is a transition. The soul moves from life to death, so that it can then move into the only true life. Our goal, our reason for existence lies beyond death in the eternal worship of our Lord and Savior. Death in this world is a necessity for us to become whole, to realize our full potential as His creations.

So we mourn the loss of our friend, because life is going to be emptier for us. We are saddened by the thought of living without that joyful presence. We are shocked as the evil that surrounds us daily makes itself incredibly prominent by snuffing out a young life. It seems too soon; he was so creative, so talented, so happy, and he could have made a great impact on this world.

But we trust that God was present in that dorm room yesterday afternoon. We believe that He knew exactly what He was doing by allowing our dear friend to pass away. We question because we are human, but we accept that God's ultimate plan and purpose is served in everything, even in this. We will miss you, Josh, but heaven is a little richer for having you there. As one of your floormates put it, “go have an eternal adventure.” And in everything, to God be the glory.