On Suicide and the Gospel

Suicide is an all-too-common part of culture. From the tragic and unexpected death of famous actor-comedian Robin Williams this past week to the frightening and bizarre case just two weeks ago of a young twelve year boy in Michigan who stabbed his nine year old friend to death before telling first responders, “I want to die, I don’t want to live on this earth anymore,” we all have become accustomed to this disturbing new trend in society.

As the news continues to cover these sobering, heart-wrenching tragedies I have noticed a lack of discussion on what the Gospel has to say about suicide. While other, more qualified professionals and even lay-counselors can debate the exact and often confusing motives behind a person taking their life, I think most of us find our hearts and minds sincerely asking, “is there hope for someone who commits suicide?” If we are honest, many of us want that question answered just as badly as the reasons behind a loved ones tragic, self-inflicted death. The question then is quite simple: can the Gospel bring any hope in the midst of the tragedy of suicide?

Why Suicide is a Tragedy

We all seem to intuitively know that suicide is a deep, acute tragedy. We sometimes even struggle to say the word itself without lowering our voices or looking around us to make sure no third parties are listening.  This discomfort is widespread; almost everyone can name at least one person in their lives who has either committed suicide or been directly affected by it.  But why is suicide such a dark tragedy? Why do we all instinctively and inwardly mourn in a totally unique fashion (the mourning of a person who passed away from cancer is markedly different than a self-inflicted death) when someone, whether a friend, family member, or someone we simply hear about, takes their life?

Suicide is a devastating loss because when someone takes their life, an uniquely created image-bearer of God is destroyed. As divinely crafted, uniquely created humans, people alone stand as the pinnacle of creation. God said when he created man and woman:

“Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over…all the earth…so God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them,” Genesis 1:26-27.

A couple unique truths should stand out to us here. One, we should notice the heavy emphasis God places on His loving creation of man and woman. Notice that in two verses the author mentions God “making” or “creating” mankind four times. Four times in just two sentences. In Genesis 2 we read that rather than just speak creation into existence like He has done all other things, God particularly molds and fashions Adam and Eve with His hands before breathing life into them. There is a closeness to God that each of us as humans can enjoy that is unmatched in the rest of creation.

Second, we should notice humanity has been given an extraordinary calling – God gave us dominion over the entire earth as His representatives. Before mass media and communication existed, ancient kings and emperors would often reign over vast tracts of land that they themselves might never see. In order to remind those who were a part of their kingdom of their authority, kings, emperors, and pharaohs would set up statues or images of themselves throughout their lands. Thus an image would serve a representative of the ruler of the land. While he himself might not be present, his image reminded his people of his authority. To be made in God’s image then means to be specifically created to show all of the world who God is and what He is like. To display His grace, kindness, joy, creativity, work-ethic, love, holiness, and more to everyone and everything around us.

Like a dark cloud that blocks out the sun, suicide obscures our view of God. When a human who was uniquely, specifically, intentionally created by God to show the world some piece of His greatness, forfeits that calling through suicide, the world has suffered a great loss. What’s more, as the author of life, God is never revealed when a person kills themselves. Suicide is an unspeakable tragedy in part, because it is a surrendering of the highest calling by the highest, most beloved beings in all of creation. We were made to image the God who deeply loves us, not surrender that privilege through suicide.

When humans, God’s most wonderful, cherished creatures, commit suicide, the universe is robbed of a unique soul with a unique calling. Indeed to quote one author from this past week, “Robin William’s death is a tragedy not because of his celebrity, but because he was human.”

The Gospel and Suicide

Does the Gospel offer any real hope  in this gloomy arena? Can the death of Jesus really offer healing, hope, and peace for those affected by suicide? Or even those who commit suicide?

Yes. Resoundingly, emphatically – yes.

To be fair, the Bible has little to say directly about the topic of suicide. The only reference to suicide in the New Testament is a brief story of the disciple-turned-traitor Judas hanging himself. Every other account of suicide is in the Old Testament and is merely a story, not a theological treatise, on a man ending his life. To my knowledge Jesus does not broach the topic of suicide in any of His teachings, nor do any of the writings in the New Testament.

For some reason, suicide has for some time been viewed as the unpardonable sin. Perhaps this ties back to the famous Inferno by Dante that firmly plants anyone who commits suicide in a gloomy corner of hell. But the Bible says no such thing. In context, the unforgivable sin has more to do with some kind of denial of the Holy Spirit and rejection of Jesus (Matthew 12:31-32, Mark 3:28-29), not suicide. So if suicide is barely discussed at all by the Bible and is not even remotely in view when Jesus discussed the unpardonable sin, where can we turn to see if the Gospel offers hope?

Romans 5 offers us the answer. After spending some time showing that all people, regardless of age, race, creed, nationality, gender, or class are guilty of cosmic rebellion and sin against God, the apostle Paul showed the only possible hope for our rescue from the death we each have earned by our sin is the death of someone else in our place. Only through some perfect, obedient substitute could our sins be punished, justice be satisfied, and our lives be spared. This was the mission of Jesus. To build God’s Kingdom on earth by standing in our place and taking our punishment and making those who trust and follow Him, His own special people. This rescue is fueled by a love and an inexplicable, un-earnable kindness (grace) toward us that is radical:

“Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more, so that, as sin reigned in death, grace also might reign through righteousness leading to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” Romans 5:20-21

Where sin abounded, grace (God’s un-earnable, compassionate affection toward us) hyper-abounded. Where sin and death flourished, grace outpaced and outgrew it even then. If sin were the Mississippi River, grace would be the Pacific Ocean. If sin were to score 90 on the exam, grace scores a 110. If sin were represented by the Empire State Building, grace would be Mount Everest. That is the radical truth of the Gospel. When sin steps in and does unspeakable damage that seems irreversible, the grace of God comes in to forgive that wrong, sparing the sinner-turned-child-of-God of eternal destruction.

This is why Paul can triumphantly say that everyone who is called by God will one day be made right with God (justified), made to look more like Jesus (sanctified), and one day fully and finally freed from sin and death itself (glorified) (Romans 8:30). The chain is unbroken: one leads to the other to the other to the other. Belief leads to forgiveness and peace with God, to following Jesus and looking more like him, to finally being reunited with Him beyond the stain, power, and harm of sin and death one day in His Kingdom. This certain, unflinching chain of events is sure because our rescue hinges not on our works but on God’s grace. Where our sin abounded, grace – through Jesus’ death in our place on the cross – has hyper-abounded. So radical is this grace that God says of those who have trusted Him:

“I will remember their sins and their lawless deeds no more,” (Hebrews 10:17).

Grace obliterates and overcomes sin and death.

How does suicide play into this? Whether or not a person commits suicide motivated by mental illness, a drunken or drug induced overdose, or yes, even by their own choice, the un-earnable, compassionate, radical grace of God is enough to cover even that. Sin and death are undeniably linked in Scripture – where one is, the other soon follows. So even if someone commits suicide with diminished self-control and capacity, their death nonetheless is a startling reminder that they, like all of us, are a sinner in need of rescue.

The question then, when each of us stands before the Lord after our death will not be “were you good enough to get into heaven?” or even “you committed suicide, how could you possibly think you could enter into my kingdom?” The question for all of us will simply be, what did we do with the free gift God offered us? Did we accept in faith and lay down our spiritual sin, pride, and rebellion. Did we let God become the King in our lives again and stop trying to reign ourselves? Or did we persist in stubborn, proud rebellion until the very end, refusing to acknowledge Him as King and neglecting, even scorning, the offer of rescue He gives us through His Son?

So can a legitimate, follower of the Lord despair so deeply and take their life yet still find rescue in eternity? While the Bible never answers this question head on, the answer seems to be, yes. Where sin and death abound, grace and life abound all the more. Two years ago I attended the funeral of a friend who I genuinely believe knew the Lord, trusted him, and followed him. Yet in a season of dark, trying despair, he took his life. While his death was shocking and unnerving, the surety of his rescue is not in question. It never depended on him in the first place – it always rested on Jesus providing and him simply trusting in Christ. So even when my friend took his life almost two years ago to the day, his and my hope remain firm because it never rested in his good deeds to save him. It always rested on Jesus, and though sin and death may abound in this life, for those in Christ grace and life abound, all the more.

Resources:

If suicide or thoughts of suicide are something you struggle with or if you know someone struggling, I hope these resources will encourage and help you:

• Suicide and Eternity: Podcast from RADIUS Church
•  When the Darkness Will Not Lift: An excellent, compassionate book about struggling with depression, despair, and mental illness as a believer by John Piper
• National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: A national service that provides 24-hour services to anyone contemplating suicide

Holiness = Happiness

A common axiom I have been hearing lately among Christians is “holiness not happiness.” From a sermon I heard a couple months ago, to a seminar on dating I attended last Spring, to a Relevant magazine article that went so far as to say “happiness is a perilous thing.” I understand much of what these godly men and women are trying to say. I would guess that many are trying to curtail the advance of the numerous, infectious forms of “prosperity” Gospel through pitting holiness against happiness. And I join them in pushing against that false gospel.

But still, I hear “holiness not happiness,” and I cringe. I think its’ because we have made the two mutually exclusive. You can be holy or you can be happy. But both? No way. Not a chance. I also think about how that must look to non-believers – “follow Jesus as Lord and be holy…will you be happy? Nope – holy.” While we certainly shouldn’t tailor the Gospel or any truth to attract more people to the faith, as a Christian I hear that and question if I’d rather be holy or happy. I believe we have separated what God meant to be united. Holiness leads to happiness. If you are holy, you will be happy. If you won’t live righteously, you will ultimately regret your decision and see that sinful behavior was anything but a source of happiness.

Before I go any further, I should define what I mean by “happy.” If all the word “happy” can entail is shallow, superficial pleasure then I would agree that holiness does not make us happy. Case closed. But the Bible seems to indicate that the word “happy” or “joyful” has a much deeper tone to it. True happiness or joy is something much more – something derived over time from obedience. In fact, I would argue that happiness (or joy) in its’ truest form can only be experienced through holiness.

In the Old Testament, obedience brings the joy of life. Deuteronomy 6:1-2 says “these are the commands, decrees, regulations, that the LORD your God commanded to teach you…if you obey all his decrees and commands, you will enjoy a long life.” God encouraged obedience because his people would enjoy life as a result. Later in Deuteronomy 30:15-16 God again says of His commands, “Today I am giving you a choice between life and death, between prosperity and disaster…if you do this (obey), you will live and multiply, and the LORD your God will bless you…” Obedience leads to long-term, deep happiness. The Bible from the start indicates that happiness is the result of holiness, not its’ polar opposite. This rings true in Psalm 119, which says repeatedly in its’ 176 verses that “joyful are people of integrity, who follow the instructions of the LORD,” (119:1,2,16,24,35,47). From the writer’s perspective, joy is a result of obedience – of holiness. So it begs the question, if holiness and happiness (in its’ truest form) are fundamentally opposed, then why does God proclaim frequently, that obedience is a source of joy and life?

In the New Testament, obedience is also described as a source of joy. Jesus is said to have been painfully obedient on the cross precisely because of the joy that awaited Him on the other side of His sacrifice (Heb. 12:2). Paul wrote that if anything can augment the joy we have in the gift of salvation Jesus has offered us, it can be found in obedient humility to one another and the Lord. The apostle John wrote that obedience was not burdensome, but a source of happiness for those who love and follow Jesus (1 John 5:2-4). So it begs the question, if genuine happiness is opposed to obedience, then why does the Bible tell us the joy is the result of holiness?

Part of this discussion hinges on a cheap meaning of happiness as I stated earlier. When we get the equation wrong and believe happiness precedes holiness, then that is a path to error and sin. We’ve all been there. But the truth I have experienced (and believe is biblical) is that when I pursue happiness over holiness, I end up getting neither. While the thrills may be instant and require little to no effort on my part, the old adage still resonates - sin is like honey on the lips, but gravel in the stomach (Proverbs 5). When we each pursue cheap, evil happiness, we end in a place of profound unhappiness (both in this life and the next if we do not repent) precisely because we are unholy.

My point may sound to generalized and to that I would answer, in the short run, absolutely. From one perspective, we all know people engaged in sin who seem perfectly happy, satisfied, and even joyful in their wicked behavior. I don’t say that judgmentally; we all were that way once and from a strictly temporal view, the unrepentant come out on top. Paul even admitted this truth – if there is no eternity, then Christians are to be the most pitied of all people (1 Cor. 15:17-19). From a strictly earthly perspective, holiness loses to the pursuit of happiness, because there’s no ultimate settling of accounts, no judgment, no restoration for the obedient in the long run. Conversely, we all know people who are deeply committed to, love, and follow Jesus, and they have been through some of the most profoundly troubling, miserable ordeals. Even as I write this I think of a good friend who loves Jesus and her family and strives to lead a holy life. She was diagnosed with cancer two weeks ago. From a short-term perspective, she is to be most pitied above all because what has her obedience brought her? A cancer diagnosis. And if there were no eternity, her pursuit of holiness would end in despair not happiness. If there is no eternal reckoning, no settling of accounts, no judgment, then the happy-wicked prosper and the obediently-holy despair.

But there is an eternity – and that changes everything. Cheap happiness will ultimately lead to despair. Faithful obedience in spite of personal suffering and loss, will lead to indescribable bliss. What’s more, from an earthly and eternal perspective, holiness in this life also brings happiness in this life. Perhaps the premiere example of this truth in our day is sexuality. Pornography and promiscuity lead to cheap, shallow, instant pleasure. But, this pursuit of pleasure ultimately leads to unhappiness through relational carnage, emotional baggage, ruined marriages, sexual transmitted diseases, and more. Conversely, sexual integrity leads to its’ ultimate purpose in bringing deep joy and intimacy in marriage – a happiness that can’t even be rightly compared to the shallow pleasure of a one night stand or an adult website.

With all that in mind, I hope I have articulated my main thought: holiness and happiness are not opposed, they are linked. Granted, if we pursue happiness over holiness, we’ll get neither. But if we pursue holiness, we will be profoundly, ineffably, incomparably happy in divinely given moments in this life and throughout eternity. Will we still suffer and at times be uncomfortable (even miserable) even though we are obedient? Absolutely. But with eternity in view and a grasp of God’s perspective of true happiness, we can endure like our Savior who “for the joy that was set before Him, endured the cross, despising its’ shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Obedience may be painful at times in the short-run, but it cannot ever be divorced from the ultimate happiness and joy it brings both in this life and the next.

Thoughts?

Goodbye. Hello Again.

Goodbye. Easily one of my least favorite words. And it’s a word I’ve been saying a lot lately. Think about it – when we leave friends or family we’ll see soon, we typically say something like “talk to you tomorrow,” or “See you Sunday.” But “goodbye” has a finality to it. In uttering that one word we acknowledge a crushing reality – the conclusion of something dear to us, friendships.

As I reflect on a season of goodbyes, my heart is both torn and healed. Torn by the loss of relationships. Torn by the recognition that a huge blessing is now a memory. Torn but healed. Healed by faith in God’s good plan. Healed by the hopeful expectation of a future reunion – indeed a meeting that makes time with loved ones in this life look like child’s play.

In fact, brokenness proceeds healing when we say goodbye. From an eternal perspective, when we say goodbye we are forced to acknowledge a truth we hate to admit: we don’t belong here. We weren’t made for this kind of life. That’s not to say we don’t enjoy God’s blessings in this life or that we don’t have purpose in this life. No, we have purpose and meaning in this life – but from an eternal perspective, this life in many ways, is an exile. A time of being cast out. A time of death. A time of tears. A time of suffering. A time of  goodbyes.  Peter and Paul both acknowledge that believers are exiles (1 Peter 1:17) and that our present suffering is real (2 Cor. 4). 

A few days ago I said goodbye to a very close friend. As we said our painful farewells, he quietly handed me a CD of some of his favorite music. As I listened to it one song stuck it. Be warned, it’s from a TV show I don’t watch, but the point it makes is nonetheless valid. The song quietly builds until a single female softly sings “I’d stay if I could, but the universe won’t let me. So, please be good. Don’t you forget me.” I think that statement is profound if we make a simple adjustment – take out “universe” and insert “providence” – the good, loving, kind, and glorious plan of God.

For so many of us, that lyric rings true. We’d stay where we are if we could. We really would. We would avoid that dreaded “goodbye” at all costs. We want stability – we want to be remembered and cherished. But, as believers, we all must accept that our time in this life is a time of exile, a time of goodbyes. But it is also a time of Providence. A time of God’s good and loving and perfect plan. As exiles, as ones that are not yet home, we are forced from time to time by death or leaving loved ones for whatever reason, to recognize that God’s plan in this life sometimes involves goodbyes. Sometimes, for our good and His glory, we have to drink the bitter cup of “goodbye my friend.” Why? Because we are not home. Not yet. Because He has not yet called us back fully from exile. Are we saved? Yes. Do we daily experience the blessing of His grace? Absolutely. But are we enjoying the full reality of His complete rescue? No. Not yet. Not until we arrive at that place we’ve never been but yet know we belong. Not until we arrive in the land where “goodbye” is itself exiled.

           

That day is coming. That day when we no longer say goodbye to those we love who are part of our family of faith. When that day comes, the brokenness of goodbye will finally be replaced with the healing salve of “hello again, my beloved friend.” There, in the presence of our glorious God, we shall be reunited as family. There, the brokenness of goodbye shall be replaced with the wholeness of a permanent hello. A hello to family, both in blood and in spirit. What’s more, this hello will be in the midst of the presence of the good and loving God who knew when the pain of goodbye was necessary for our good and who kept us going with the promise of his daily sustaining grace, and a future hello that would never be broken.

So as I sit on my bed and contemplate the dozens of goodbyes I have said in the last two weeks, I sit with a quiet peace. A peace that comes from a faith that whispers softly “your goodbye will one day become hello again.”

With that serene peace, I say to my friends who I leave, “I love you so very much and will miss you immensely. Goodbye.”

And to the new friends I will join soon in this next season of life, with a smile I say “Hello.”

I Never Thought...

I never thought I’d find myself bargain shopping for diabetic supplies, but I found myself doing just that today. That’s when it hit me. My life just changed.

I was admitted to Lynchburg General Hospital on Saturday for high blood sugar. I went to the hospital after finally realizing I couldn’t ignore my constant thirst or the fact that I had to pee all the time. So late Saturday night I sucked it up and went to the ER. Turns out it was a good decision – my blood sugar was 802. With normal blood sugar being between 80-140 I felt somewhat proud of my accomplishment. My friend and I joked that I set the diabetes high score. After getting an IV of insulin and being transferred to the diabetic/renal floor (don’t let the name fool you, this floor is a madhouse of fun…you get all the diet soda you want AND graham crackers), I started to settle in for my stay.

Sunday and Monday were full of visits from friends, my new endocrinologist, pastors, and my favorite professor. Now it’s Tuesday and I find myself anxious to get the heck out of here. As I began packing up I finally realized that my life just changed. It started after I ordered a medical alert bracelet that says “DIABETES!” on it and fully sunk in after I put a nifty card that says “If I’m acting weird I’m not drunk I’m diabetic…and dying so help me!” in my wallet.

In the midst of all this change it would be easy to ask the question “why me?” But honestly, the thought hasn’t really crossed my mind. Perhaps it’s too soon and I’ll cross that theologically perilous bridge when I get to it; but maybe I won’t for one simple reason: grace.

Easily one of the most overused, misunderstood words in the world, grace is all we’ve got. Simply put, it’s unearnable kindness. God is just kind because…there’s no reason for it except that is just who He is; and I have seen a lot of grace this week. I saw grace when I walked into the ER and saw my nurse friend in triage who quickly processed, checked, and started treatment within an hour. I saw grace when I found out that I should have been in a coma on Saturday night but was somehow alert and in a pretty good mood. I saw grace when I first suspected I had diabetes and my friend Joel let me borrow his blood sugar testing kit to check – the ultimate reason I went to the ER. I saw grace in the fact that I’m wired to love running and if I hadn’t been training for a marathon I would likely be dead from high blood sugar. I saw grace in friends who spent the night in the hospital, prayed for me, brought me diet coke and clothes and even homework. I saw grace in the fact that I am not nearly as sick as those around me. A few patients here can’t eat or drink anything -  a few people are both diabetic and cancer patients.

John Piper says “the life that I have left is all grace.” Simply put, the only thing that will sustain me from here until eternity is grace. Grace upon grace. Don’t misread this as if I’m really happy I have type I diabetes – nope, not even close. Going to bed alone in a hospital is not fun for many reasons, one of which being the solitude that forces you to realize that you have to relearn how to live in many ways (I had a snickers, mocha, and three musketeers bar on Saturday for a snack…probably shouldn’t do that too often anymore). But in the midst of that, grace abounds, and life, though different, continues on in the goodness given to us. Difficulties, trials, and trouble have and will come; they will be overcome not by blind perseverance or a naïve refusal to acknowledge the pain, but in grace upon grace upon grace until the end of the age. All glory, honor, and praise to God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, for they are gracious beyond measure.