Death Disarmed of its Sting: A Tribute to the Memory of the Hon. Roger Minott Sherman Being the Discourse Preached at his Funeral, January 2, 1845
Lyman H. Atwater
9781465652607
213 pages
Library of Alexandria
Overview
This triumphant ejaculation, which Christ hath made the property of all dying believers, implies that death may lose its sting and the grave its victory. And whence comes this change in the issue of the conflict which man is ever waging with death, and in which death is the natural conqueror? How shall we account for this transmutation so strange, so wondrous, so heavenly, by which this most resistless, relentless, unsparing conqueror, is itself made to die, is swallowed up in victory, and at the very moment of seeming to crush its victim, translates him to an endless life, gilds him with fadeless glory, transports him with the fullness of joy evermore, and crowns him with an immortal diadem? Our answer is found in that record which God hath given of his Son, who hath brought life and immortality to light. "Thanks be to God who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ," who has made the sublime annunciation on which all human hope depends. "I am the resurrection and the life; whoso believeth on me, though he were dead, yet shall he live." Since then, death, through the wondrous work of Christ, may be disarmed of its sting, and the grave robbed of its victory, let us for a few moments consider more precisely in what way, to what extent, and with respect to what persons, this comes to pass. In the verse following our text, the Apostle declares, "the sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law." Hence it is something wholly distinct from the mere physical pangs of expiring nature, or the instinctive dread and abhorrence of its own dissolution which it ever cherishes. This dread of self-annihilation is a property of life itself, which is in its very nature a ceaseless effort to be, and to avoid non-existence. Irrespective of sin or holiness, penalty or rewards, whether the death of the body be, or be not regarded as the only and certain passage to a perfect and blissful state of existence, it is in itself what we instinctively dread and shun. Like pain, we avoid it if possible. We never choose it as in the least desirable for its own sake; although we may cheerfully submit to it as we submit to bitter drugs and burning caustic, because without it, we cannot escape the pains of earth, or reach the bliss of heaven. In this light the Christian may desire death, because to die is gain, and he desires to depart and be with Christ which is far better: but not because it is in itself lovely, or otherwise than grim, ghastly and terrific. This natural aversion to the physical pangs of death, therefore, is not its sting, since it is a part of our sentient nature, and still cleaves to Christians as to others.
