Where We're Going
“There is no work, planning, knowledge, or skill in the grave where you’re going.” (Ecclesiastes 9:10)
There’s a terrible certainty in this statement. It’s not a warning of what might happen. It is what will happen, whoever you are, whatever you’ve done. You are going there. No one evades it. Even Jesus, the perfect man, could not.
Kind of depressing? Well, no! Because we know the rest of the story: The grave is a certainty, true, but there is also a way to escape it! Jesus shows us that, too.
It’s worth bearing in mind that getting out of the grave isn’t something we can do for ourselves. No thought, no plan, no work, remember? Nor is there any preparation we can do ahead of time that will pop us out. It was necessary for God to raise Jesus. If he was dependent, then how much more are we?
People are desperate to evade the fate the Preacher says awaits every one of us. All manner of fanciful alternatives have been advanced. Which doesn’t change the reality: Death is real. There’s no thought, plan or activity—no living—where we are going.
The tragedy is that the fanciful alternatives aren’t even needed! As Paul asked, “Why should it be thought incredible by you that God raises the dead?” (Acts 26:8) People won’t swallow the idea of resurrection (a repeated promise validated by it actually happening), but they will swallow ghosts and reincarnation and lounging in the clouds.
Think about it. Why, really, would we find resurrection incredible? If God made us out of dirt to start with, it only figures that He could re-make us out of the dirt we’ve decomposed into!
As sickness, infirmity, aging, disasters or whatever else take their toll, it can be depressing. We can feel where we’re headed—the grave. As you’ve maybe figured out, I’m feeling it. We are supposed to feel it. We’re supposed to realize our dependence, and therefore look to the only way out. It’s a paradox, perhaps, but it’s suffering that produces hope. Without the suffering, we would just stay oblivious. Because of the reminders of mortality, we have reminders of hope. Because the grave keeps swallowing up every single one of us, we have the continual reminder of the gospel hope: rising from the sleep of death, “restored to life and power and thought”, as the old hymn puts it.
This life is a dead end, and for many that’s where it just stops. To all appearances God’s people go to the same dead end, but for them it’s a sleep, from which they will awake. It’s a promise, validated by it actually happening.
Love, Paul