Shepherding the Sheep Toward Death
To what end has God given his church pastors? Certainly we can say that one end is that faithful under-shepherds shepherd the sheep well! That is, pastors are given by God to help church members know, love, and follow Jesus who is their Chief Shepherd. “Keep following your Savior!” But it seems to me that one helpful lens through which faithful pastors should view this vocation is that of helping men and women die well. Through all the ups and downs of ministry, there is one constant that every sheep under a pastor’s care will face and that is, unless the Lord returns first, the inevitable reality of death. In other words, it ought to be a pastor’s highest privilege to help Christian men and women pass through the waters of the Jordan in faithful reliance upon Christ.
Thomas Murphy, 19th century Irish-American minister of Frankford Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia, reminds his fellow ministers with utmost gravitas: “Who is sufficient for the solemn task of directing a soul that is tottering upon the brink of eternity, where a wrong word may be fatal or a right one may be the means of immediately opening the gates of endless glory?”[1]
The Reality of Death
The reality of death, especially for those who sense it’s nearness, is often terrifying. This is exactly why Satan wields the fear of death in enslaving untold countless souls and keeping them from Christ, who is the only Destroyer of death (Hebrews 2:14-15). But even for faithful Christians, approaching death is still often a frightening experience. John Bunyan vividly gets at this reality in his Pilgrim’s Progress when Christian, before entering into the Celestial City first needs to cross the river Jordan. But in abject fear he begins to panic, being swallowed up under the rivers cold waters and sinking down into its dark abyss; that is, until Christ reaches in and rescues his redeemed servant! I’ve never not cried when reading that portion of the story. It accurately describes the very real wavering many saints have when nearing that cold unknown.
Death has a way of forcing men and women to really take account of their lives and their hearts. Isn’t this why Solomon tells us that “It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart” (Ecclesiastes 7:2)? The godly minister should therefore always be aware of how the cold reality of death is able to penetrate hearts more than most other avenues. Indeed, he ought to always hold up death before the eyes of his congregation – “Behold! That dark river approaches and you cannot but cross it. And on its other side comes judgment. Are you ready?”
That question – are you ready – lies at the heart of the memento mori: “Remember, you must die.” It’s an essential component of what we pronounce in the Gospel, that without trusting in Christ who, in his own death, took the judgment of eternal death for us, we are entirely without hope. Without Christ, we are, in fact, not ready. The Old Princetonian pastor, Ashbel Green, wonderfully reminds us of the hope there is if one does know Christ. “Divine justice is perfectly satisfied in the cross of Christ, and unites with mercy, in assuring the believing penitent that he shall never come into condemnation. Here it is, that ‘God is faithful and just to forgive us our sins.’ United by faith to the Son of God… the believer can no more come into condemnation, than the Savior himself. ‘Because I live, ye shall live also,’ is his cheering assurance to all his true disciples.”[2]
The Need for Shepherds
This is the great truth of the minister’s message: life is found in Christ. But it is always best heard in the context of inevitable death, which is the wage of our sin. There is no good news without first believing the bad news! Death then, is an assistant to the godly minister, a tool used that, when brought out, best equips the listening soul to take seriously the Gospel (see Luke 13:1-5). This is necessary for both the unbeliever and the believer as both still need the truth of Christ; one for spiritual resurrection, the latter for spiritual repletion.
This is why Christ gives ministers to his church. They are called upon to walk alongside Christ’s sheep as they approach the terrifying surge of death’s darkness. The judgment of death perhaps shakes the believer with greater weight than the unbeliever precisely because he really knows the holiness of God, he knows the depths of his own sin, and he believes that God is just. In light of these truths, saving grace really is surprising and in the frailty of sickness or old age the believer holds the fruit of assurance with trembling hands, barely holding on. Looking more to themselves, the weak believer begins to ask, “Am I, the sinner that I know I am, really saved?”
It is just here where ministers, helped by the Spirit of God, bring comfort to Christ’s sheep, reminding them that their Savior saves with a complete salvation. Death is no obstacle for him; that judgment has been swallowed up and buried in his own death and resurrection. The minister is to walk with the dying saint, your hand in his, reminding him that Christ’s stronger hand will hold him through the chasm where, you, the minister must let go.
But isn’t it also true that many wayward sheep (if they are sheep) have an overly confident assurance? They’re not asking for any handholding at all! No, their hands are filled with the world and its riches, numbing and blinding them to the fast approaching reality of death. And oh what a frightening Day that will be! Isn’t better to stir their hearts in fear now before God rips the world away from their hands? Archibald Alexander is surely right when he writes that “in view of the absolute and undoubted certainty of our departure out of life, it seems passing strange that we should be so unconcerned. If even one of a million escaped death, this might afford some shadow of a reason for our carelessness; but we know that ‘it is appointed unto men once to die’. In this warfare there is no discharge, and yet most men live as if they were immortal.”[3]
Death will take us all
Here then is another reason why Christ gives pastors to churches: to remind the worldly-minded that another realm approaches and that Death will take us all there, either to the realm of endless paradise or to the realm of endless punishment. I once met with a dear lady in my church who had been at the church longer than I’ve been alive. She confessed that as she neared death, she was becoming more and more aware that she had not ever truly trusted in Jesus. She joined the church at a time when the Gospel was not preached, only moralism and civic duty was taught from the pulpit. And apparently she had, for decades, trusted that her good works were strong enough to carry her into heaven. But now, as she sat under my preaching of the Gospel, she became startled and uneasy that her good works were, in fact, a poor and useless help before the divine judgment of death. Through many meetings and prayer and conversation, she gradually, by God’s mercy, came to give herself to Christ alone. As far as I could tell, she entered death to only be taken immediately to glory. It was the fear of death that first awakened her soul. Praise God that she asked to meet so that the Gospel could be given. She had, by the help of her Savior, conquered death. She was, in the end, truly ready.
[1] Thomas Murphy, Pastoral Theology, p. 124
[2] Ashbel Green, “Christ Crucified the Characteristic of Apostolic Preaching”, found in The Pastor: His Call, Character, and Work, by Faculty and Friends of ‘Old’ Princeton (The Banner of Truth Trust, 2020), p. 202
[3] Archibald Alexander, Thoughts On Religious Experience (The Banner of Truth Trust, 2020), p. 209
