Hope

Brothers and sisters, we want you to know about those who have died. We don’t want you to be sad like other people—those who have no hope. 1 Thessalonians 4:13

‘Hopeless’ is a sad and empty word, but we throw it around carelessly and sometimes in fun. This week I have attended the funeral of two friends, both of whom were good people, kind, gentle  and the sort of person you would easily warm to if you met them. All funeral services have similar characteristics, like sadness, grief, a eulogy that helps the deceased’s remaining family good, friends who gather to show their respect, and tears of grief.

On this earth, we are endowed and blessed with free will, and some use that freedom to reject the gift of salvation. A gift known about, and yet not believed or accepted. The tributes to my friends were fulsome and sincere, but these services were clearly conducted to honour the past of the one who died, and the respect of those left behind, but they were incomplete. Hope was missing.

There was no recognition of a beautiful heaven, final bodily healing, the love of a Saviour, redemption, or meeting loved ones again someday. In the true meaning of the word, these services were ‘hopeless’, and very cold. The apostle Paul recognises the sadness of death for those who remain, but he stresses that he doesn’t want us to be sad like those who have no hope. The only people who have this eternal hope, which means it isn’t a hopeless life or death, are the body of believers who call themselves Christians. No others. I am thankful for this assurance of hope we can have and profess.