Life Ends; Love Doesn't

by Bob Setzer, Jr.
In Mitch Albom’s, The Five People You Meet in Heaven, the lead character, Eddie, meets up with his wife, Marguerite, who was snatched away from him much too young. Marguerite seeks to comfort Eddie by saying, “There was a reason to it all.”

Eddie lashes out at her suggestion. As far as he is concerned, there is no justifiable reason for his crushing loss.

Taking Eddie’s hands in her, Marguerite says, “Love lost is still love, Eddie. It takes a different form, that’s all. You can’t see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken, another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it."

“Life has to end,” she concludes. “Love doesn’t.”

Yes, memory is a precious gift. Memory allows us to hallow and treasure the people now gone, whose loving touch is forever imprinted on our souls. But memory, like a surgeon’s scalpel, cuts even as it heals. The deeper the love, the deeper the ache--the agony, the emptiness--of the loss.

Monday is Memorial Day. It’s a day for remembering those men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice in the service of our country. A time of solemn remembrance and thoughtful gratitude is the minimum due from every American. But for those who lost a son or daughter, husband or wife, or other loved one or treasured friend on the field of battle, this loss is personal and profound. And for all such heartsick mourners, memory is not enough. They need something more. They need hope. They need to know this wrong will be righted and their numbing pain vanquished when they see their loved one again.

On Sunday of this Memorial Day weekend, Christians celebrate Ascension Sunday, the day Jesus returned home in triumph for his own heavenly reunion (Luke 24:50-5). But Jesus’ victory was not his alone. His victory was for all those who trust in him with earnest love and longing. The New Testament proclaims that in his resurrection and ascension, Jesus “took captivity captive” (Eph. 4:8-10), “disarmed the rulers and authorities” (Col. 2:15), and “abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel” (2 Tim. 1:10). Now he reigns at the right hand of God where he holds in trust all those who revel in his glory and dance in his grace. And no one--not even Death--can snatch them from his hand! (John 10:28).

Yes, memory is a wonderful thing but if memory is all we’ve got, death wins. We need more than memory; we need hope. We need more than Memorial Day; we need Ascension Sunday. We need more than a “reason” to make the hurt go away; we need a holy, healing presence and the promise of seeing loved ones lost again. We need more than sentiment; we need Jesus.

Faith robs memory of its awful finality and cracks it open like an empty tomb.