There are two aspects in which this language might be regarded.
1. As the sentiment of the redeemed after the resurrection. Literally, then, death will have lost its sting, and the grave its victory.
2. As the expression of an exultant sentiment which the apostle felt even now, and which may be enjoyed by all true Christians. This is the view that we now adopt. Death was to the apostle, as yet, an idea, and it is worthy of our notice that death affects us, while living, only in idea. It is a friend or foe--victim or victor--according to our mental conception. If our ideas be gloomy, it will cloud the sunshine of life; but if bright, we shall spend our days in cheerful usefulness, and view the grave as a lumined pathway to an immortal future. The passage suggests--
I. The popular idea. It is implied that the bulk of men viewed not death as the writer did. The popular idea--
1. Has a “sting.” The allusion is to some venomous serpent, having not merely mortality, but agony, in his sting. There is no idea that stings an ungodly man like that of death.
2. A “victory.” It not only stings like a serpent, but crushes like a conqueror not merely the body but the soul--the man. Some are all their lifetime subject to bondage through this idea. The boldest worldling cowers and turns pale before it. Hence on deathbeds princely fortunes have been offered for its postponement. Dr. Johnson was the slave of this idea.
3. A felt connection with sin. The sinner’s sense of guilt will be according to his knowledge of law, and the terror of death will be according to his sense of guilt. The apostle means either that sin is the cause of death, or the causeof the poignancy of the idea. Both facts are equally true, but the latter is most to our present purpose. It is felt guilt that gives a “sting” and “victory” to the idea of dying. All that is horrific in the idea starts from a sin-stricken conscience. Such, then, is the popular idea of death. Wherever Christianity is not received, you find it. Hence it is pictured as a cruel hunter laying snares for men; anhorrific angel, with a cup of poison in his hand; a gaunt and ghastly skeleton; a mower, with his scythe, cutting down every blade in the field of humanity; and sometimes a king of terrors, treading empires in the dust.
II. The Christian idea.
1. Has neither sting nor victory. “Where is thy sting?” “Where is thy victory?” They once existed, but are gone.
2. Instead of sting and victory, has rapture and triumph. “Thanks be unto God,” etc. The victor has become the victim--the anguish of the sting has given place to the ecstacy of the song.
3. Comes to man through one medium. The old idea of death has given way to this, not through the philosophies or religions of the world, but through Christ.
(1) How does Christ give this idea? The common answer is, by taking away the sense of guilt, and bringing “life and immortality to light.” This chapter suggests, by awakening in the soul a new spiritual life. No intellectual conviction could ever plant this ides in a soul “dead in trespasses and sin.”
(2) But how does a new spiritual life do this? Because it involves--
(a) A stronger sympathy with the Arbiter of our destiny than with any other being--a moral oneness with that God in “whose hands our breath is, and before whom are all our ways.” Where this is not, there can never be anything but gloom in death: a dread of God must give a dread of death.
(b) A stronger sympathy with the spiritual than the material. Wherever the attachments of life are on the material, the idea of death must ever be distressing, on account of the separations it involves; but where the most sympathy is with the “unseen and eternal,” death will be regarded, not as severing connections, but as uniting them in closer and dearer fellowship, and will therefore be joyously welcomed.
(c) A stronger sympathy with the future world than the present. Where there is a stranger sympathy with the present world than the future, the idea of severance must ever be painful; but where it is otherwise, the event will be hailed.
(3) Now, this spiritual life comes to man through Christ. To give it was the object of His mission. “I am come that ye might have life,” etc. What, indeed, could give a controlling sympathy with the Eternal but Christ’s revelations of His infinite love? What could remove guilt from the conscience, but faith in His sacrifice? What could awaken a generous sympathy with the spiritual and the future but His disclosures of the “many mansions”? His doctrines, works, example, death, spirit, all are to quicken the spirit in this new life. Conclusion: The subject supplies--
1. An argument for the value of Christianity. The world’s idea of death is a miserable one: whatever mind it possesses, it paralyses. Christianity alone can destroy this idea, and help man to meet his fate with a halcyon soul.
2. A criterion of character. What is your idea of death? Are you its victim or its victor? I take this to be a testing question. Fear of death is heathenism, not Christianity. (D. Thomas, D.D.)
No sting in death
I.What is this “sting of death”? It is not So much any actual pain in dying. We go through greater pains very often during life. It lies in--
1. The parting. The very thought of being separated from those we love is anguish.
2. The general dread of the unknown. No hand to clasp! No voice to hear! However we have lived, it will be a solitary thing to die.
3. A sense of shame. “I am ashamed to meet some whom I shall see again. I am ashamed to give up a life so little used, so sadly wasted!”
4. The sense of actual sin. “I am going to a God I have offended, and whose law I have broken. Must He not in very justice cast me out?” And where shall I go? What suffering do I not richly deserve? And the fear rankles in the breast, and conscience wakes up its phantoms and its horrors.
II. Its cure. Thewhole “sting” of sin, and therefore the whole “sting of death,” passed into Christ, and death is left stingless to all who believe and accept Him. See the actual results.
1. Parting? It is nominal. Death does not change or interfere with the communion of saints. For a little while the departed are invisible, but they will very soon be visible again.
2. The darkness cannot be. If He is there who is the light, how can there be darkness?
3. How can the passage be lonely? “When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee.” And are we not attended by angels?
4. And shame, Am I not clothed in His perfect righteousness? And Jesus is with me. Where is the shame? And be my sins what they may, they are cast into the depths of the sea; they will not be mentioned; they are no more.
5. And what room can there be for fear? “Fear thou not, for I am with thee.” (J. Vaughan, M.A.)
The sting of death extracted
The reason I like the gospel is that it has taken out of my path the worst enemies I ever had. My mind goes back to twenty years ago, before I was converted, and I think very often how dark it used to seem at times as I thought of the future. There was death! what a terrible enemy it seemed! I was brought up in a little village in New England. It was the custom there when a person was buried to toll out the age of the man at his funeral. I used to count the strokes of the bell. Death never entered that village, and tore away one of the inhabitants, but I always used to count the tolling of the bell. Sometimes it would be away up to seventy, or between seventy and eighty; beyond the life allotted to man, when man seemed living on borrowed time when cut off. Sometimes it would be clear down in the teens and childhood, for death had taken away one of my own age. It used to make a solemn impression on me; I used to be a great coward. When it comes to death, some men say, “I do not fear it.” I feared it, and felt terribly afraid when I thought of the cold hand of death feeling for the cords of life, and thought of being launched into eternity, to go to an unknown world. I used to have dreadful thoughts of God; but they are all gone now. Death has lost its sting. And as I go on through the world I can shout now, when the bell is tolling, “O death, where is thy sting?” And I hear a voice come rolling down from Calvary: “Buried in the bosom of the Son of God.” He robbed death of its sting; He took away the sting of death when He gave His own bosom to the stroke. (D. L. Moody.)
The conquest of death
I.Wherein it consists.
1. Christ has overcome death; delivers them that were in bondage through fear of death; takes away the sting in the article of death.
2. Has conquered the grave by His resurrection, and brought life and immortality to light by the gospel.
II. How it is secured.
1. By faith in Christ, which destroys sin and satisfies the law.
2. By abounding in the work of the Lord. (J. Lyth, D.D.)
Victory over death
I.It is from actual sin that death derives his power. We speak of death as coming in the course of nature; but it is a penal infliction, and pertains to man, not as a creature, but as a sinner. But for sin, death had never been. I have no doubt that from the mind of Christ when He was on earth, this association was never absent. In all the temporal woes which He witnessed, He saw sin. If this association were more strongly and habitually in our minds we should benefit more than we do by scenes of death and visits to the grave. Every time we are reminded of our mortality we ought to be reminded of our sinfulness and the consequent value to us of salvation,
III. It is from conscious sin that death derives his terrors. I grant there is something that awes the spirit in the unknown sensations of dying, in the dissolution of soul and body, in the dissolution of the ties that connect us with friends, and in the darkness and loathsomeness of the grave. Yet admitting all this, still it is no one nor all of these that constitutes the cause of our dread in the anticipation of death. It is the assurance that “after death” is “the judgment.” Could this be removed, what a large proportion of the terrors of death would be instantly dispelled! An awakened conscience is fearful; yet an unawakened conscience is still more so.
III. It is by the death of Christ that death is bereft of his power. If the power of death arise from sin, then the only way in which it can be done away is by the expiation and forgiveness of sin; sin must be atoned if death is to be destroyed. The Bible accordingly is full of this doctrine. The death of Jesus was the finishing of His atonement. In His resurrection we bare the Divine attestation of the atonement having been satisfactory and accepted; His rising from the dead was His full release as the Substitute of the guilty for whom He died. But how is it, then, that Christians die? It is not God’s plan that the final destinies of individuals should be publicly manifested and settled before the time; it would supersede the final judgment, and interfere with the grand final manifestation of the power of the risen Lord in the winding up of the scheme of redemption. But observe--
1. The curse is taken out of death to all who are in Christ. Death is the messenger of peace that calls their souls to heaven.
2. The power of death is destroyed by the death of Christ, inasmuch as then was the virtual, though not the actual destruction of that power. “I am the resurrection and the life,” etc.
IV. It is by faith in the death of Christ that death is divested of his terrors. If a sense of guilt inspires the fear, by what can the fear possibly be quelled but by a firm belief in the Divine propitiation? It was when Jesus “through death destroyed the power of death,” that He “delivered them, who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage”; but that deliverance can only be enjoyed through faith in Him, who gained the victory, who “spoiled principalities and powers,” etc.(R. Wardlaw, D.D.)
Victory over death
I.Death and its sting.
1. Sin gave death his being, and it also gives him his terrors. With the utmost propriety is sin compared to a sting; for it at once pierces, pains, and poisons. Sharpened by temptation, and nicely smoothed and polished by a thousand alleviating circumstances and plausible excuses, it enters insensibly into the soul, and, before we are aware, torments our consciences with pain, and poisons our faculties with its malignant influence. Its power pierces, its guilt pains, and its pollution and defilement are its poison. And every time we commit it, it wounds us afresh, puts us to fresh pain, and spreads its poison wider and deeper: and, alas! so often have we committed it, that our whole soul is infected, and all its powers corrupted.
2. Now sin derives its strength from the law. Not that the law encourages sin: far from it. The law forbids it, and denounces “indignation and wrath” upon all that commit it. But, the fountain of our nature being polluted, and continually pouring forth the most baleful streams, the law, like a mound placed in the way of a torrent, opposes, indeed, the rapid course of this overflowing of ungodliness, but, not drying up its source, only makes it rise the higher, and, in the end, flow with greater force and rapidity. For men, finding that they have sinned, and are still inclined to sin, and that they are condemned on that account, are wont to grow desperate in sin, till sin, thus manifested, irritated, and increased, “by the commandment, becomes exceeding sinful.”
3. In the meantime the sinner, while urged forward by “the law in his members,” which “wars against the law of his mind,” observes how be perpetually advances towards the precipice of death, and is led to fear he shall fall into “the lake burning with fire and brimstone, which is the second death.” Hence, oppressed with horror and despair, he cries out, “O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death? “Who shall draw the sting of death, and show him to be a disarmed enemy? This is the language of every awakened sinner’s heart. Being enlightened to see the spirituality, obligation, and extent of the Divine law; being convinced he has repeatedly transgressed it, and is, therefore, involved in the curse of it, he finds himself in dreadful bondage through fear of death. And in this condition he continues till he becomes acquainted with Him who took part of our flesh and blood, that “bydeath He might destroy him that had the power of death,” etc.
II. How death is disarmed of his sting and we are enabled to triumph over him. It is Christ who disarms death of his sting, and this He does by removing the guilt, breaking the power, and washing away the defilement of sin. When we come under grace as a living and powerful dispensation, sin hath no more dominion over us, and the wrath of God being removed with the guilt of sin, and an accusing conscience departing with the power of sin, we have peace both within and without, and “rejoice in hope of the glory of God.” And thus our fear of death and hell is exchanged for a blessed hope of immortality and joy. (J. Benson.)
Victory over death and the grave
The apostle has demonstrated the resurrection by an elaborate argument, and states his conclusion as the fulfilment of Isaiah’s prophecy (Isa_25:5). He remembers the promise of God by Hosea (Hos_13:14), and in a burst of eloquent exultation he defies his former enemies.
I. The challenge (verse 55).
1. Where is the sting of death? Alas! and is it nothing to die? Is it nothing to leave this fair earth, our pleasant homes, our loving friends, etc., and to be buried and become as dust beneath the sod? Has death no sting when we hold the beloved, who made life precious and the world beautiful, by so frail, brief, melancholy a tenure? Has it no sting in that “life-long pang a widowed spirit bears”? Is there one among us such a miracle of uninterrupted happiness, so insensible to others’ grief, as not to have felt its keen and lingering sharpness?
2. Where is the victory of the grave? Where is it not? Power cannot resist it. Riches can purchase no allies skillful to avert it. There is no discharge in this war for wisdom, or youth, or virtue, or strength.
3. Yet, were there nothing beside this, the calamity would be light. A gloomy anticipation, a few tears, a sharp pang, and all would be over. We should sleep, and dream not. But there is more than this. Whence came death? God is angry with us and death is the executioner of a Divine sentence, the avenger of a broken law. Death had no sting for man, and the grave no victory, till sin entered into the world; but now “deathhath passed upon all men, for that all have sinned.” The law of God, which condemns the sinner, gives death power to seize and hold him fast. Wherever there is sin, its wages are death. Wherever death is, there must be sin. Yes! even in the death of the sinless Lamb of God, for He bore our sins. Here is the sharpness of death’s sling. It is the evidence and punishment of sin. What a strange lethargy must that sinner be in who feels it not, but sleeps stupidly on, dreaming of lust, and gain, and pride, till death wakens him with eternal agony!
4. Here we see the strength and valour of Christian faith; for, knowing that he must die, and the grave cover him, Paul stands up bravely, and flings defiance in their faces. To learn the secret of his courage, we must consider--
II. The thanksgiving (verse 57). This, with the preceding verse, answers three questions:
1. Whence is the victory? God gives death its sting and the grave its victory. So long as God arms them, it is impossible to resist them. God, therefore, alone can give us the victory, by becoming our Friend. When He is our Friend, His ministers, which were our enemies, must be our servants.
2. How is the victory given? Death is the penalty of sin, and, while the law condemns the sinner, he must remain captive to death and the grave. But Christ, by satisfying the law, plucked out the sting of death, and ravished thevictory from the grave (Heb_2:14-15). Morethan this, He demonstrated His victory over the grave; bursting the bars asunder, He dragged forth captivity captive, making an ostentation of His spoils, openly triumphing. But the full manifestation of His triumph and ours is kept for the day of the resurrection.
3. Wherein does our victory consist? The believer triumphs--
(1) In Christ’s perfect atonement.
(2) In Christ’s resurrection.
(3) In the final resurrection. (G. W. Bethune.)
Fear of death: its causes and remedies
The fear of death is almost universal. It affects individuals in various degrees, but suffers few to entirely escape it. Let us examine, then, the causes which render death so formidable, and then the considerations which will deprive it of its sting, and the grave of its victory. A primary cause, which renders death so formidable to mankind, consists in their natural love of existence. This is an instinctheld in common with the brutes. All kinds of life cling to their being with inveterate tenacity. Even the martyr or patriot, sacrificing their lives for their country or faith, experience a secret disinclination to make the offering. The discontented--the wearied--the afflicted in mind, body, or estate--at the last dread, and, if possible, avoid the conflict. God has implanted in man an instinct which will not permit him to yield existence without a struggle or a pang. The solemnities, too, with which we surround it, invest death with many of its terrors. We render it as ghastly as possible. It should rather be regarded as a passage from the troubles of life into the happiness of eternity. Presented under this light it is a joyful occurrence, and therefore should be less drearily apparelled. The obscurity, moreover, which veils the eternal state, arms death with many of its terrors. Unbelievers, of course, labour under no uncertainty. Materialists by conviction, death in their view is followed by annihilation. Or, should this creed be erroneous, condemnation must be the result of their unbelief. Any way their case is lost. Hence, by them death is regarded with peculiar dread. Nor are believers without their misgivings as to the future. Even though certain as to a future state, doubts will arise as to their position in it. They know the conditions of salvation, but have they been fulfilled? is their title good to the promised inheritance? Remorse of conscience, too, with many, produces similar results. Recollection of the past gives sorry promise for the future. While death is distant the harsh monitor may be hushed. But, when nigh, death is sure to rouse it, if guilt lies heavy on the heart. Even the unbeliever cannot avoid its stings, nor the hardened repel them. The sick-bed bears frequent witness to the agonies which they inflict on the stricken reprobate. Neither is the Christian entirely free from them, The best have much to answer for. And, lastly, fear of punishment makes him an object of dread to many. But are there no means of diminishing this influence which death possesses over us? Christians have been known to meet death cheerfully, and for their faith even court its embraces. In Christianity, then, we shall discover the means of emancipation from this slavery. From the gospel we shall obtain power to deprive death of its sting, and the grave of its victory. Are we too enamoured of life? Do we put on it too high a value? Do we cling to it with too much tenacity? Let us learn from the gospel to prize it no higher than its real worth. Surrounded with gloomy pomp, with sombre trappings, do we regard death with superstitious dread? Let us learn from the gospel to strip it of these adventitious terrors. Do we fear death as the tyrant, which separates us from friends and relatives--which entails loss of wealth and honour, of title and substance? Let us learn from the gospel to estimate these advantages at their real value--to consider them as transitory, mutable, and unsatisfactory. Do we doubt as to the state beyond the grave? Is it to us an unknown country? Or, known, do we question our title to its possession? Let us go to the gospel. There life and immortality are brought to light. Is remorse active? Has conscience sharpened its stings? By the gospel, again, we learn that no case is hopeless while life remains; that there is balm for the most wounded spirit, and that to the prayer of repentance and faith no request is denied. And do we dread the retribution beyond the grave? Let us again turn to the gospel. There we shall find words of hope and consolation. There we shall find means of escape from impending judgment. There we shall discover that “with the Lord there is mercy, and with Him is plenteous redemption.” (John Budgen, M.A.)
Death and the grave
When tyrants are overthrown the nations of the earth breathe freely; from prince to peasant all rejoice, and every heart is raised to heaven, and hallelujahs go up to the throne of God, and the Prince of Peace is blessed for bringing back hope to the world, and driving fear from its dwellings.
I. “The sting of death is sin.” The shame and the deformity of guilt, the degradation of a nature fallen from the image of God, the pains of remorse--these are some of the forms in which death stings the soul through sin; and who that has seen the terror-stricken conscience craving a few more days of life.
II. But what if death cannot sting the soul in the hour of its last life-trial, it can surely sting the heart. “All that a man hath will he give for his life”; it is sad to part with this. To leave the work of our hands for others to perfect, to give up our pleasant ministry and all the rewards that went with it, surely this is bitter, and herein at least death has for a moment its victory and its sting. Such is not the experience of faithful hearts, hearts which have been taught that “to live is Christ and to die is gain”; who have learnt that if to abide in the flesh be pleasant for the sake of those who remain, to depart and be with Christ is far better.
III. Let it be granted, then, that death has no sting for the soul of the Christian, nor can he fasten his sharp fangs upon the heart which is taught of the Spirit of God. But what of the body? Can we look upon that thin frame so worn that the very mother scarcely knows her own child, and then deny that death at least can torture the body if it cannot torment the soul of the faithful? When death laid his hand upon the Son of God, and saw His body, weary with watching and worn out with persecution and agony, sink under the burden of His Cross, and then lifted up and nailed through His tender hands and feet to the tree He was too weak to carry, He may have cried in triumph, “Behold, the sting of death!” And yet it was that very agony that enabled His Victim and His Conqueror to say as He gave up the ghost, “It is finished.” When the faithful heart is taught by grace how glorious it is to be made partaker of the sufferings of Christ, that its pains are not sent in wantonness, but to remind it of its Redeemer’s power to help and presence to heal, that every pang that waits on the soul’s last struggle to be free is another step towards the liberty it so desires, then the sense of physical suffering is swallowed up in the prospect of what lies so nigh.
IV. But if the sting of death affects the dying Christian himself neither in body nor in spirit, there are surviving hearts in tears and deep sadness. Here, then, is the sting of death piercing the souls of the living, if it has no torment for the dying.
V. Death then retires before the power of faith and acknowledges that its power is gone, the sharpness of its sting made void. But the grave! there is the victory; there is the curse carried out to its humbling accomplishment; “dust thou art, and to dust shalt thou return.” Alas, how are the mighty fallen! humbled indeed to the dust and brought down to the dwelling of the worm! O grave, great is thy victory, if this be all of what was once so great and dear and beautiful and good. But is it all? What do we read? “It is sown in corruption, it is raised in incorruption,” etc.(A. J. Macleane, M.A.)
Victory over death and the grave
Consider--
I. The interrogatory of the apostle.
1. What is the sting of death?
(1) The sting of natural fear. The feeling is one common to all nations. Our very nature chills atthe thought of it.
(2) But the manner of death is a part of the sting, and many consequently are afraid of their supports failing them in the last encounter--their mind’s decay, their adversary’s concentrated strength and malice.
(3) To the apostle, however, the sting of death lay in its retributive character. Hence, when men are afraid of death, it is not so much nature trembling at what she may have to suffer, as conscience affrighted at the penalties it feels to deserve. We call death the king of terrors, and that which makes him so, which makes his reign terrible, his night gloomy, his valley dark, is the implanted feeling of our nature that he is the commissioned magistrate of heaven come to reckon with us for our sins. “The wages of sin is death.”
2. But our text assumes these wages to have been paid, and this king of terrors to have been disarmed. Now, this change in the moral aspect and attributes of death, whilst as an endured penalty it must remain, is effected by Christ--
(1) As the destroyer of death by the Cross. The lordship of death stands in this, that he is the executioner and instrument of the law of God which man hasbroken. But Christ satisfied, discharged, magnified this law, and thus vanquished the death which had its strange behests to do. And now this minister of justice lacks his authority. There is no judge to deliver us to the officer. “There is no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus.” “Who is he that condemneth? it is Christ that died.” “O death, where is now thy sting?”
(2) As the Lord of the invisible world. “O grave, where is thy victory?” Seeing that beyond the third day the soul of Christ was not left in the grave, neither did His flesh see corruption? Yet not for Himself did Christ obtain this victory. It was rather in order to an exhibited demonstration of His sovereignty over the mansions of the dead, a comforting assurance to those who were about to walk through the dark valley of the shadow of death that they need fear no evil.
II. Seeing, then, we have such a hope in the prospect of death, “let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”
1. It may be a part of the sting of death to think that thereby thine eyes must close eternally on the things of this present world; but if “blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, for they rest frown their labours, and their works do follow them,” O death, where is that sting?
2. It may be a part of the sting of death to think of the friends you must leave behind you; but if, besides re-union with these friends, we are to have converse with the Redeemer, with angels, what becomes of that sting?
3. It may be a part of the sting of death that your children will be fatherless and your wife a widow; yet if He is faithful that promises, “Leave the fatherless children, I will preserve them alive; and let thy widows trust in Me,” then what becomes of that sting? (D. Moore, M.A.)
The last triumphant conflict
I. Its bitterness.
1. Death has a sting.
2. The grave a victory.
II. Its issue.
1. The sting drawn.
2. The victory reversed.
III. Its certainty secured to every believer.
1. Through Christ.
2. In the hope of the resurrection. (J. Lyth, D.D.)
The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
Death
I. Its sting. Sin occasions the pangs of--
1. Separation.
2. Conscience.
3. Fear at the prospect of meeting God.
4. Apprehension in the thought of judgment.
II. Its power. Derived from the law, because--
1. It announces the penalty of sin.
2. Manifests the evil of sin.
3. Enforces the punishment of sin and perpetuates it.
III. Its defeat.
1. Through Christ.
2. Achieved by every believer. (J. Lyth, D.D.)
Death
I.Unveiled. It derives--
1. Its power from actual sin.
2. Its terrors from conscious sin.
II. Conquered.
1. Christ takes away its power.
2. Faith takes away its terrors. (J. Lyth, D.D.)
Death and fear
When Sir Henry Vane was condemned and awaiting execution, a friend spoke of prayer, that for the present the cup of death might be averted. “Why should we fear death?” answered Vane. “I find it rather shrinks from me than I from it.” (Little’s Historical Lights.)
No fear of death
Among the few remains of Sir John Franklin that were found far up in the Polar regions there was a leaf of the “Student’s Manual,” by Dr. John Todd--the only relic of a book. From the way in which the leaf wasturned down, the following portion of a dialogue was prominent: “Are you not afraid to die?” “No.” “No! Why does the uncertainty of another state give you no concern?” “Because God has said to me, ‘Fear not. When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee.’” This leaf is preserved in the Museum of Greenwich Hospital, among the relics of Sir John Franklin.
Sting of death
As his (Simeon’s) drew near, he broke out, “It is said, ‘O death, where is thy sting?’ “Then, looking at us as we stood round his bed, he asked, in his own peculiarly impressive manner, “Do you see any sting here?” (Life of Simeon.)
The sting of death is sin
That is, death would have no power to injure us if it were not for sin. This is true for two reasons.
1. Because if there were no sin there would be no death. Death is by sin (Rom_5:12).
2. Because sin gives death, when it hasbeen introduced, all its terrors. If sin be pardoned, death is harmless. It can inflict no evil. It becomes a mere transition from a lower to a higher state. (C. Hodges, D.D.)
The sting of death is sin
I.There is a sting in death.
1. That there is such a sting in death appears from--
(1) The horrors of wicked men when they come to die.
(2) The unwillingness, even of the dearest of God’s children, to undergo this last, rude, and violent shock of death.
(3) The attitude of Christ towards it (Mat_26:39).
2. What there is in death that should make its sting so sharp and poignant, and cause such a natural antipathy against it in us?
(1) The harbingers, which go before it, to prepare its way--languishing diseases, racking pains, etc.
(2) Its annihilation of all the comforts and enjoyments of life.
(3) The separation of those dear companions, the soul and body.
(4) The consideration of those dishonours and disgraces which shall befall the body upon this separation.
(5) The deliverance over into eternity, which we have deserved, should be infinitely miserable to us.
II. The sting of death is sin.
1. It was only sin that brought death into the world (Rom_5:12).
2. Death received its terrors from sin (Heb_2:15).
Conclusion: If sin be the sting of death--
1. Let us beware that we add not more poison to this sting.
2. Then the only way to disarm death is by cleansing thyself from sin.
3. How unspeakably happy are those to whom the sting of death is taken out by the death of Christ! (E. Hopkins, D.D.)
The sting of death
Aslight acquaintance with man will convince us of the truth of two propositions.
1. That every man is labouring to obtain some object.
2. That according to the intensity of the interest he feels in the object will be his delight in pursuing it. The merchant is looking onward to retirement from business. The same principle actuates the warrior on the battle-field. His object is military glory, a name in the annals of fame, the applause of the brave. You have an object before you--a happy dying hour--rest after the storms of life arepast. That is the object before you; and, if you would secure it, you must get rid of the sting of death, you must go on to perfection. We lay down, then, for our discussion, one proposition--that, if a happy and triumphant death-bed be desirable, and if a gloomy and miserable death-bed is to be deprecated, then go on to perfection. We do not mean to dwell upon the nature of Christian perfection, but simply upon the results of perfection upon a dying hour. How solemn is life’s last hour! The journey is ended, the immortal candidate is on life’s last shore. Memory retouches all the past, and in a few minutes he seems to live the whole of life over again. Here the soul seems to say to the body, “We have been companions long, we have travelled together life’s rough road, but now home is in view the spirit has now launched into eternity; it has commenced its upward flight; the earth, like a little dark spot, grows less and less; heaven opens upon the vision. There is nothing in heaven or earth can give a ray of light to an expiring infidel. How are we to account for these gloomy death-bed scenes among professors of religion? I answer--First, a want of regeneration; many of them have never been born again. Secondly, backsliding. “I was converted,” says one; “I could tell the time and place of my conversion.” Ah! but you are a backslider now. Thirdly, remaining depravity. Can you say, I have been free from the slightest touch of sin since I believed? I don’t think one of you can say so! The remains of sin in the heart are like powder; and only let a spark fall into it, and there will be an explosion. There has been powder enough in our hearts, and this world is full of sparks. One is saying, “I contracted an unsuitable marriage; I was unequally yoked, and all has been wrong ever since.” Another is saying, “I formed an improper connection in business.” “I,” says another, “fell--gave way to bad tempers, angry passions; and, oh! there are a thousand witnesses in my own breast.” Conscience bears witness--loud, distinct, and clear; but God has brought the wanderer back--back to the throne of grace. If you harbour and indulge these enemies of God in your heart, what kind of a death will you have? Only get this sting removed, and your nature purified, and then you will have a happy death-bed. Bless God, you may start for glory, and never strike a rock! See! see that vessel leaving the port of Liverpool. She passes the pier-head; she jostles her way through the crowd of shipping that obstructs her passage; she clears every dangerous point; she escapes the sandbanks that lie concealed under the waters; she gets fairly out on the ocean; by and by she gets an overhaul, and all’s right. Every inch of canvas is now crowded on, and on she bounds before the breeze. At length the shout, “Land ahead!” is heard; she heaves in sight of port; she reaches it. As the captain steps ashore his friends hail him with sparkling eyes, “Well, captain, what sort of a voyage?” “Oh, capital; ‘tis true we have had a few tremendous gales, but we have never split a sail, snapped a rope, or lost a spar; and here we are safe in harbour!” “Well, captain, we congratulate you on your voyage.” Glory to God! you may yet get safe out of harbour, clear every rock and pass, full sail, into the port of glory, amidst the congratulations of the heavenly host. “My grace is sufficient for you.” If you would have a happy death, go on to perfection. A holy Christian will have a happy death; this is the rule; I know there are exceptions to every rule, and there are exceptions to this. (J. Canghey.)
The strength of sin is the law
This must be the law of God in its widest sense; not the Mosaic law, which would make the declaration amount to nothing. The law is the strength of sin, because--
I. Without law there world be no sin (Rom_4:15). The very idea of sin is want of conformity on the part of moral creatures to the law of God. If there be no standard to which we are bound to be conformed, there can be no such thing as want of conformity. Sin is the correlative, not of reason, nor of expediency, but of law. If you take away law, men may act unreasonably, or in a way injurious to themselves or others, but they cannot sin.
II. If there be no law there can be no condemnation. Sin is not imputed where there is no law (Rom_5:13).
III. The law not only reveals and condemns sin, but exasperates and excites it, and thus gives it strength (Rom_7:8-12). (C. Hodge, D.D.)
The strength of sin is the law
The law--
I. Discovers sin, and makes it appear in its own colours; the more light and knowledge of the law, the more sense of sin, as in transparent vessels dregs are soon discerned (Rom_7:9). When by a sound conviction disguises are taken off from the conscience, we find sin to be sin indeed. Paul was alive before--that is, in his own hopes--as many a stupid soul makes full account he shall go to heaven, till conscience be opened, and then they find themselves in the mouth of death and hell.
II. Gives strength to sin in regard of the obligation of it; it bindeth over a sinner to the curse and wrath of God. God has made a righteous law, which must have satisfaction; and till the law be satisfied, we hear no news but of a curse, and that makes death to be full of horrors (Heb_10:27).
III. Augments and increases sin by forbidding it; lusts are exasperated and rage upon a restraint, as the yoke makes the young bullock more unruly. Now, put all together, and you will understand the force of the expression, “The strength of sin is the law.” The discovery of the law stops the sinner’s mouth, and the curse of the law shuts him up, and holds him fast unto the judgment of the great day, by which restraint sin grows the more raging and furious; all which, put together, make death terrible; not an end of misery, but a door to open into hell. (T. Manton, D.D.)
The law is the strength of sin
1. Any man who thinks or feels at all about sin knows that it is the strongest principle within him. His will is adequate for all other undertakings, but it fails the moment it attempts to conquer and subdue itself. The experience of the Christian likewise demonstrates that sin is the most powerful antagonist that man has to contend with. Nay, more, this heat and stress of the Christian race and fight evinces that man must be “strong in the Lord” in order to overcome sin.
2. The cause of this mighty strength of sin is the law of God. By the law is meant the sum of all that a rational being ought to do, under all circumstances and at all times. It is equivalent to duty, and includes all that is implied in the word “right,” and excludes all that we mean by “wrong.” At first sight it appears strange that this should be said to be the strength of sin. Yet such is the assertion here and in Rom_7:8-9; Rom_7:11; and we cannot understand these statements unless we take into view the difference in the relation which a holy and a sinful being respectively sustains to the moral law. St. Paul means that the law is the strength of sin for a sinner. For the saint, on the contrary, it is the strength of holiness. In a holy being, the law of righteousness is an inward and actuating principle; but for a sinful being it is only an outward rule. Law does not work pleasantly within thesinner, but stands stern outside of and over him, commanding and threatening. If he attempts to obey it, he does so from fear or self-interest, and not from the love of it. The “law of sin” is the sole inward principle that rules him, and his service of sin is spontaneous and willing.
3. Hence the Scriptures describe regeneration asthe inwardising of the moral law (Jer_31:33). To regenerate a man is to convert duty into inclination, so that the man shall know no difference between the commands of God and the desires of his own heart. The two principles, or “laws,” of holiness and sin, in order to have efficiency, must be within the heart and will. They are like the great fruitful laws that work and weave in the world of nature. All these laws start from within and work outward. The law of holiness cannot bear fruit until it ceases to be external and threatening and becomes internal and complacent. So long as the law of God is a letter on the statute-book of the conscience, but not in the fleshy tablet of the heart, so long must it be inoperative, except in the way of death and misery. This righteous law, then, is “the strength of sin” in us, so long as it merely weighs down with a mountain’s weight upon our enslaved wills, so long as it merely holds a whip over our opposing inclination, and lashes it into anger and resistance. How can there be any moral growth in the midst of such a hatred and hostility between the human heart and the moral law? Flowers and fruits cannot grow on a battle-field. As well might we suppose that the vegetation which now constitutes the coal beds grew up in that geological era when fire and water were contending for possession of the planet, as to suppose that the fruits of holiness can spring up when the human will is in obstinate and deadly conflict with the human conscience. So long as the law sustains this extraneous relation to the heart and will--
I. There is no genuine obedience.
1. For genuine obedience is voluntary, cheerful, and spontaneous. The child does not truly obey its parent when it performs an outward act, outwardly insisted upon by its superior, from no inward genial impulse, but solely from the force of fear. Here lies the difference between a moral and a religious man. The moralist attempts, from considerations of prudence, fear, and self-interest, to externally obey the external law. It is not a law that he loves, but one which he would keep because of the penalty attached to it. And yet, after all his attempts at obedience, he is conscious of utter failure. But the renewed and sanctified man “obeys from the heart the form of doctrine that is delivered” unto him. The Holy Spirit has inwardised it. He acts naturally, he acts holily, and when he sins he is uneasy, because sin is unnatural to a renewed heart.
2. Everything that is genuine, spontaneous, and voluntary wears the garb of grace and beauty; while that which is false, pretended, and constrained has the look of deformity. We admire the living plant, but we turn away from the artificial flower. So is it with the appearance which the moralist and the believer respectively presents. The one is rigid, hard, and formal; he rather endures his religion than enjoys it. The Other is free, cheerful, pliant; the Son hath made him free, and he is free indeed.
3. Another criterion of genuine obedience is love. But so long as the law sustains this extraneous and hostile relation to the heart and will, there is no love of it or itsAuthor. No man can have a cordial affection for it until it becomes the inward and actuating principle, the real inclination of his will. Yet the law overhangs him all this while; and since it cannot produce the fruits of peace and holiness, it betakes itself to its other function, and elicits his corruption, and exasperates his depravity.
II. Obedience is impossible.
1. For the law is entirely outside the executive faculty. It is in the conscience, but not in the heart. It consequently gives no impulse and aid to right action. The law sternly tells the man that by his own determination and fault he is “dead in trespasses and sins,” and condemns him therefor; but so long as it is merely didactic and comminatory, and not impulsive and indwelling, he derives from it none of that strength which empowers to righteousness.
2. But in the Christian, the law of holiness, by virtue of his regeneration and union with Christ, has become inward, spontaneous, and voluntary. It is no longer a mere fiery letter in his conscience, giving him knowledge of his sinfulness, and distressing him therefor; but it is a glowing and genial impulse in his heart. His duty is now his inclination, and his now holy inclination is his duty.
Conclusion: This subject shows--
1. That it is an immense work to make such an entire change and reversal in the relations that now exist between man’s will and the Divine law. The problem is, to transmute the law of God into the very inclination of a man, so that the two shall be one and the same thing in the personal experience, and the man shall know no difference between the dictates of his conscience and the desires of his heart.
2. It is the work of the Holy Ghost. It is the result of God’s “working in man to will and to do.” (Prof. Shedd.)
Thoughts on the last battle
I. The sting of death.
1. Sin brought death into the world. Men could be more content to die if they did not know it was a punishment. “In Adam all die.” By his sin every one of us become subject to the penalty of death.
2. That which shall make death most terrible to man will be sin, if it is not forgiven. Consider a man dying, and looking back on his past life. To feel remorse is to have eternal torment commenced within the soul.
3. But if sin in the retrospect be the sting of death, what must sin in the prospect be? The moment we die the voice of justice cries, “Seal up the fountain of forgiveness” he that is holy let him be holy still; he that is filthy let him be filthy still. The hour of death is like that celebrated picture of Perseus holding up the head of Medusa. That head turned all persons into stone who looked upon it. What I am when death is held before me, that I must be for ever.
II. The strength of sin is the law. Most men think that sin has no strength at all. “Oh,” say many, “we may have sinned very much, but we will repent, and we will be better; God is merciful, and He will forgive us.” The strength of sin is the law in that--
1. The law being spiritual, it is quite impossible for us to live without sin. It is not merely the act, it is the thought; it is not the deed simply, it is the very imagination, that is a sin. Oh, now, sinner, how canst thou get rid of sin? Thy very thoughts are crimes. Is there not, now, strength in sin? Hath not the law nerved sin with such a power that all thy strength cannot hope to wipe away thy transgression?
2. It will not abate one tittle of its stern demands. It says to every man who breaks it, “I will not forgive you.” You hear persons talk about God’s mercy. Now, if they do not believe in the gospel they must be under the law; but where in the law do we read of mercy? The law thunders out, without the slightest mitigation, “The soul that sinneth it shall die.” If any of you desire to be saved by works, remember, one sin will spoil your righteousness.
3. For every transgression it will exact a punishment. The law never remits a farthing of debt. Now, if ye consider all this, are you prepared to take away the sting of death in your own persons? If you think so, go, O foolish one, go, twist thy rope of sand; go, build a pyramid of air; but know it will be a dream with an awful awakening.
III. The victory of faith. Christ has taken away the strength of sin.
1. He has removed the law. We are not under bondage, but under grace. The principle that I must do a thing--that is to say, the principle of law, “do, or be punished, or be rewarded,” is not the motive of the Christian’s life; his principle is, “God has done so much for me, what ought I to do for Him?”
2. He has completely satisfied it. The law demands a perfect righteousness; Christ says, “Law, thou hast it: find fault with Me; I am the sinner’s substitute.” “Who shall now lay anything to the charge of God’s elect?” Now the law is satisfied, sin is gone; and now surely we need not fear the sting of the dragon. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
The victory
I.The victory. Victory supposes warfare, and warfare enemies. Let us mention a few of these.
1. Sin. This is the cause of all the rest, but the name of Jesus was given to the Saviour because He was to save His people from their sins. His people consider sin as their chief enemy, and they rejoice that their Saviour gave Himself for them “to redeem them from all iniquity,” etc. Let us examine this victory. Sin, even now, is to be found in a believer; but though sin lives in him, he does not live in sin, and though sin be not destroyed in him, it is dethroned in him. There is as much difference between sin found in a Christian, and sin found in a natural man, as there is between poison found in a serpent, and found in a man. Poison is found in a serpent, but it does him no injury--Why? Because it is natural to him, it is a part of his system; but poison in a man makes him sick, it is no part of his nature.
2. The world. Our Saviour said to His disciples, “Be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.” But what is this victory? It is not fleeing from the world--fleeing is not fighting--but it is your abiding in the calling in which you are placed by God; discharging with diligence and zeal the duties pertaining to it; resisting the temptations belonging to it; and using all the opportunities it affords to do good. The man who thus lives overcomes the world. “Who is he that overcometh the world?” etc.
3. Satan. “I will put enmity between thee and the woman,” etc. “For this purpose, therefore, was the Son of God manifested, that He might destroy the works of the devil.” But you say, Did He not fall in the struggle? True, but it was in falling that He conquered. “He spoiled principalities and powers,” etc. “And because the children are partakers of flesh and blood, He also Himself likewise took part of the same,” etc.
4. Death and the grave. He certainly conquers death--
(1) Who is not and cannot be injured by it, and to whom it is therefore expressly harmless. This is the case with every Christian. Death stung once, and a dreadful sting it was; it stung our Surety, who took our place for us; but it left its sting in Him, so that there is none for the Christian.
(2) Who will be improved by it. The Christian rises with a better body than he laid down.
(3) Who will rise above the apprehension of it (2Co_5:1).
II. The acquisition. In other cases winning a victory is gaining a victory, but here--
1. It is given. It is true we gain it; but He gives it. It is true we fight; but it is He causes us to triumph. He not only furnishes the crown, but He also gives us the capacity by which we acquire it.
2. It is dispensed through the mediation of the Lord Jesus. From the beginning to the end of our salvation, the propriety, expediency, necessity of Jesus as a mediator is not for one moment left out. “He is all in all.”
3. It is gradually exemplified and accomplished. It is not said that He will give, though this is true, for it is already promised; nor that He has given us the victory, though this is true, for that is already promised; but He giveth us the victory; and this is true because it is gradually confirmed and experienced.
III. The gratitude. If you feel gratitude to your fellow-creatures for their favours, surely you will not forget the boon of your salvation. There is nothing perhaps so vile as ingratitude. But how are we to express our thanksgivings? Gratitude consists in the return of a benefit received, and though we cannot make an adequate return, yet we may make a suitable return. “Thanksgiving,” says Philip Henry, “is good, but thanksliving is much better.” The best way in which a scholar can testify the honour of his tutor is by his proficiency. And our Saviour says, “Herein is My Father glorified that ye bear much fruit.” As a stimulus to gratitude.
1. Dwell upon the blessings themselves.
2. Get an increasing sense of your own unworthiness.
3. Get an assurance of your own interest in the blessedness of the Lord. (W. Jay.)
Our victory
I.Over sin.
1. The great fault and peril of sin is not so prominent as it was. Is there not too often the sanguine expectation that the disease will be cured by external remedies? You persuade, for instance, the drunkard to take the pledge, but you have not changed his heart. You destroy the rookery, and build the model lodging-house, but you have not destroyed the fascinations of crime. Unless we deal with sin, all our attempts at reformation will be in vain; the malady lies too deep for our superficial applications.
2. The gospel does not palliate sin; on the contrary, it drags off its disguises, and reveals it in its naked deft fruity. It shows sin to be a perversion of the moral being; it is the alienation of the heart from the love, the alienation of the will from the law of God; it is rebellion; it is that which God hates; it is that which must be put away before man can enter into fellowship with God. The gospel alone dares to reveal sin, because it gives us the power to conquer it.
(1) In presenting to us a perfect life it shows us what human nature is capable of, and its present degradation. It first reveals sin in placing it in the full light of the Divine example, and secondly, in the light of the Cross it condemns sin. It shows it there in all its iniquity which only the blessed blood of the spotless victim can remove.
(2) But if Christ had only been this, He would not have been our Saviour (verse 17). If He had only died, then death had the mastery over Him; we must be still crushed under the burden of sin, for we have no atonement; there is no righteousness in which we can be clothed; we cannot be partakers of a new life, since there is no source of life for us. “But now is Christ risen from the dead”; and in the power of this resurrection we have the victory over sin. God, in raising Him from the dead, has not only proclaimed that He has accepted the propitiation, but has exalted Him to be a Prince and a Saviour to lift off from us the burden of guilt, and to pour into our diseased spirits the life of His resurrection, the life of His Spirit, that we may gain the victory over sin. In no other way can we gain it; no efforts to lop off here and there the heads of that hydra-headed monster will prevail. The desire we thought we had beaten down, the passions we thought we had conquered, will reassert their mastery. But He, the risen Lord, has given us His life, has made us one with Himself, and in that loving union with Him the victory is ours.
II. Over death. Death is a very real enemy. The fear of death; is not this the most terrible fear that assaults men? What is the fear of sickness, poverty, sorrow, old age, natural infirmities, compared with the fear of death? It is an awful thing to die; above all, if we do not know where we are going.
1. Death is an agony, for it is the separation of body and soul; it is the dissolution of the man. And yet regarded in this light men do not always recoil from it. There are those who, not only in the excitement of battle, can meet death with steady nerve; there are those who, tired of life’s efforts and disappointments, have welcomed death as a friend, and the bed of death has been like a sleep.
2. The agony of death does not trouble all, but the mystery of death, the thought of passage from a world of known existence to an undiscovered country, where men must give an account of deeds done in the body, this has made the bravest heart tremble. Two officers were riding together just before a battle. One of them, an earnest Christian, turned and said to the other, “Are you prepared to die?” “Death; don’t talk to me of death,” was the reply, “it will unnerve me.” The man was not a coward, but death was an awful thing to think of. No wonder that Paul speaks of men being subject to bondage through the fear of death.
3. Then beside, there is the anguish of bereavement. How many hearts has death broken, how many lives has he made desolate? Who has not felt that awful power? Must we shudder, and walk with faltering steps in presence of this dreadful enemy? “No,” says the apostle. “Thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” St. Paul insists upon this fact as involving the resurrection of mankind. For it is not a simple human being that rises out of that grave; it is the everlasting Lord of Life, who, having life in Himself, took our human nature, and in that nature confronted death, and vanquished death, and rose victorious from the tomb. Conclusion: Are we partakers of this victory? We may repeat the Creed, “I believe in the resurrection of the body,” and yet, alas! we may have no victory over death. How many baptized Christians have no doubt of another life, and yet live and die as if this world were all? And yet there is such a victory. Christ’s risen life may be ours. It is by a close actual union with Christ that we share in His victory. “Whosoever liveth and believeth in Me shall never die.” (Bp. Perowne.)
Victory over sin, death, and the grave
I. “The sting of death is sin.” The meaning is, that, to a man conscious of unpardoned sin, death is armed with a peculiar pungency. Consider--
1. The loss of the world. Has be been a man of pleasure? His pleasures vanish. Is he a man eager in his pursuit of wealth? His plans are broken, and his wealth goes to others. Has he ranked among the proud and mighty? The grave which opens for him knows no distinction (Isa_14:10). When these thoughts pass through the mind, how they sting!
2. On the approach of death sin is presented in its true aspect. Its nature is to deceive. It assumes the forms of pleasure, interest, nay, sometimes of virtue. B
