This post is a chapter from the book, Hope in the Loss of a Baby: A Deeper Dive into what the Bible says about Miscarriage, Stillbirth, and Infant Death, which is the culmination of much study, counseling, and sermons shared over twenty years. Since this book was meant to bless the church I am also making it available on this blog.
To human eyes, their early death looks like a loss. But in divine providence, it is an act of shelter. ~ John Calvin
You’ve heard the proverb, “Only the good die young.” While
it’s not perfectly accurate, there is often truth in it. The secular origins of
that statement go back as far as five hundred years before Christ, but the idea
extends even into the history of Israel.
Nearly a thousand years before Christ, Jeroboam was the
first king of Israel (The Northern Kingdom) after God split the nation in two
following Solomon’s death. God held Jeroboam responsible for the evil he had
done and the idols he had created and worshipped. Seemingly unrelated to all of
the other sin, judgment, and destruction that was happening, Abijah, Jeroboam’s
young son, fell ill (1 Kings 14:1).
Jeroboam’s wife sought out the nearest prophet of God (she
had plenty of false prophets that she needed to bypass to get to him, see 1
Kings 13:33–34) and learned the devastating news that not only would her
husband lose the kingdom, but that God had purposed to cut off every male from his
lineage (1 Kings 14:10). This included Abijah her son.
In the midst of this curse, Abijah is the subject of one of
the strangest blessings in the Bible,
When your feet enter the city, the child shall die, and all Israel shall mourn for him and bury him, for he only of Jeroboam shall come to the grave, because in him there is found something pleasing to the Lord, the God of Israel, in the house of Jeroboam. ~ 1 Kings 14:12–13
Spared From Future Suffering
Abijah was not saved from death, but he was saved from
suffering and defilement.
This is such a hard blessing that I almost didn’t include it,
but since it’s in the Bible and it speaks to our subject, we have to recognize
that God may intend a blessing in the early death of some. Matthew Henry said
of Abijah, “His early death was a mercy to him, taking him away from the evil
to come, that he might not see the ruin of his father’s house, nor be infected
with the sins of it.”
Take a moment to consider what things an untimely death may
save someone from.
Andrew van der Bijl (better known as Brother Andrew) had an
older brother named Bas who had a severe developmental delay. Despite his
challenges Bas was a joy to everyone he met until his untimely death in the
early parts of World War II. Later, Brother Andrew reflected that his brother’s
early death had saved him from the darker days ahead, the famine that came not
long afterward, and especially that one of Bas’ favorite trees was cut down
later in the war.
John Wycliffe was being charged as a heretic for his defense
of the scriptures and saying radical things like,
The laity ought to understand the
faith and, as doctrines of our faith are in the Scriptures, believers should
have the Scriptures in a language which they fully understand!
Wycliffe was almost certainly on his way to torture, public
humiliation, and execution for his efforts in Bible translation. But God
mercifully ushered him into glory through an unexpected stroke before his
enemies could pounce.
My mother passed away a day before a freak flood destroyed
the business she had spent three decades building. While I would much rather
have my mother—even in the midst of immense financial strain—I cannot help but
see the providential timing.
Of my babies in heaven, I am slightly jealous that they
won’t have to navigate the challenges of Artificial Intelligence and the ways
it will magnify sin. Nor will they have to watch the further decline of society
(2 Timothy 3:13), the mistakes of history be repeated, or their parents grow
old and die. I am happy even that they will be spared from navigating this
fallen and broken world tainted by my sin and theirs. With a very painful and
tear-filled hallelujah I am glad that God saved them from the toil and trouble
to come, especially since we know from the rest of the Bible that they found
favor in the eyes of God. I especially rejoice that the good in them is the
Christ in them, the hope of glory.
Isaiah put it this way, “The righteous man perishes…the
devout men are taken away…the righteous man is taken away from calamity; he
enters into peace…” (Isaiah 57:1–2). The NIV takes a little poetic license but
really gets to the heart of what’s being said, “the righteous perish…the
righteous are taken away to be spared from evil.” Spared from evil sounds
especially pleasant right now when considering my babies who are safe in the
arms of Jesus.
Matthew Henry said, “God often takes away those who are
saved in early life to keep them from the evil to come.”
To his point, I have long been perplexed that such men as
Robert Murray M’Cheyne (29 years old), David Brainerd (29 years old), Oswald
Chambers (43 years old), and Charles Spurgeon (57 years old) were taken away
far too soon, but this passage helps to shed light on God’s plans.
Similarly, if I had been in prison with Paul when he
realized, “My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better”
(Philippians 1:23), I would have grabbed him by the ankles and begged him not
to leave!
If I could have held my babies back from heaven so that I
could have been blessed to hold them longer, I would have wrestled to the death
any angel God would have sent my way. But I would have been ultimately
wrestling with God, who has a plan and a purpose and spares some from evil by
their early deaths. We don’t want them to go, but we don’t want to be found
opposing God, who has long ago set the appointment of all of our deaths
(Hebrews 9:27), as well as the way in which we must die (Revelation 13:10). For
some, our call is to walk a long path and live long fruitful lives full of
trials and tribulations, and for others the path is shorter.
The early death of this youth was
not a punishment to him, but a translation to glory, rescuing him from the
spiritual pollution and coming temporal ruin of his father’s kingdom. ~ Charles
Simeon
I had a friend who was convinced we shouldn’t pray for the
recovery of sick believers since that would be keeping them from the glories of
heaven. In one sense I can agree with that, and I’ve prayed for several saints,
“God, as so-and-so has run their race, if you’re done with them, they’re ready
to enter into the joys of their master.” My prayer for you and I is that God
doesn’t keep us a moment longer than he’ll use us to build his kingdom.
Conversely, we want to keep people for our mutual benefit
and blessing. David fasted and prayed fervently that his infant son would not
die (2 Samuel 12:15–17). Paul was greatly relieved that his friend Epaphroditus
had not died and was sure his recovery had saved him “sorrow upon sorrow”
(Philippians 2:27). Jesus himself prayed that he would not have to go to the
cross because he knew the wrath, separation, loneliness, pain, and death that lay
ahead (Matthew 26:38–39), even though there was great joy on the other side
(Hebrews 12:2).
I’m sure Abijah’s mother wanted to keep her son, protect him
from death, and keep him as long as she could.
Hearts in Heaven
Not a single person who has gone to heaven, if given the
option to come back, would come back. In a truly unique story, Samuel yelled at
Saul for bothering his rest, asking why he had called him up;[1]
Samuel was happy to stay in heaven (1 Samuel 28:15) and had no need to be
bothered by earthly things any longer. Lazarus was called back from heaven to
continue his ministry a little while longer and to provide the means by which
many would believe. Jesus said, “Lazarus has died, and for your sake I’m glad I
was not there, so that you may believe” (John 11:14–15). To this end, Alexander
Maclaren captures a point that is easy to miss,
Think of the strange shadow that
must have hung over him (Lazarus). He was a man who knew the secret. To him the
grave was no longer an untraveled undiscovered country; it was a place he had
inhabited and returned from. His life was henceforth lived under the dual light
of two worlds.
Once you know the promises of heaven, it’s hard to fall in
love with the lies of the world. Abijah had the world before him to tempt and
corrupt, his own father would lead him astray if given the chance, and his own
heart would deceive him. Death had saved him from the sorrows of earth and
ushered him into the glories of heaven,
Judgment on Jeroboam’s house was severe, but God’s grace spared Abijah by taking him to Himself. ~ John MacArthur
After the resurrection of Lazarus, the world sought to re-kill
him because he was reaping so many converts to Christ (John 12:9–11). It wasn’t
his resurrection that was so intriguing to potential converts, it was Lazarus
himself. I can’t wait to hear his testimony in heaven, but something about his
experience gave him immense faith, hope, and boldness, and it was contagious.
The old hymn tells us,
Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
look full in his wonderful face,
and the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
in the light of his glory and grace. ~
Helen Howarth Lemmel and Lilias Trotter
Beloved, you haven’t been to heaven yet, but you certainly
have an expectation of how glorious it must be. I can’t say for sure, but I’d
bet Lazarus did not want to come back after he’d been there four days; heaven
was wonderful and earth stunk. He didn’t want to be known as we call him, “The
man who died twice.” I’d bet that if you had the option to depart and be with
Christ, you would go in an instant. Your child can’t return to you (2 Samuel
12:23), nor if given the option would your child return to you; God is a better
Parent (Psalm 68:5), and heaven is a better country (Hebrews 11:16), but you
may go to them.
In the meantime, until he calls you home, let your dearly
departed magnify the vision of heaven for you. Consider what they have been
saved from and saved to, and let them set your heart on fire to live a life
like Lazarus so in love with heaven and so dejected with earth that many will
come to Christ through your testimony and affections.
Hearts on Christ
Our hearts are idol factories, says John Calvin. Many a
parent has idolized their children to the point of abandoning God’s precepts. One
mother broke my heart when she blasphemed God for allowing the overdose death
of her son. Charles Darwin walked away from his pursuit of truth and deeper
into his idolatry after his ten-year-old daughter died. Many a parent has
missed the assembling together with the saints because their child was ill, others
had a ball game to attend, and far too many parents abandon truth because the
megachurch down the road is more fun for their kids.
Though most of her response is hidden from us, Jeroboam’s
wife believed God and delivered the message that the prophet had given her.
Flavius Josephus points out that she was in a terrible conundrum as she
traveled home, “the greater haste she made, she would the sooner see her son
dead.” I believe her return was indicative that she trusted God; we’ll consider
this more deeply at the end of this chapter when we consider his burial.
She had a choice to make: believe God and return home, or idolize
her son’s life and flee. She also could refuse to enter the city, beg the
prophet to intervene for her and her son and family, or send a messenger. Take
a moment to consider her options and think through how you would respond. For
those whom God loves and is transforming from one degree of glory to another,
he cannot and will not let an idol steal his glory.
God sometimes breaks our idols to
draw us closer to Himself; He takes away our treasures to heaven so that our
hearts will follow them. ~ J. C. Ryle
and,
If we lost our hold on earth
through the departure of those we love, it was only that our grip on heaven
might tighten. ~ Alistair Begg
Our ultimate treasure must be Jesus Christ, and where has he
gone? He went to heaven to prepare a place for us (John 14:3). Imagine if you
were so in love with the world that when he returns you refuse to run to him?
What should he do with the chains and affections that hindered you from running
to him? I would want him to break them into a thousand pieces, to crush them to
powder, to give me no reason to stay when he returns or calls me home. I’d pray
with Keith and Kristyn Getty,
And
when I cling to what I have,
please wrest it quickly from my
grasp,
I’d rather lose all the things of earth,
to gain the things of heaven.
And that is just what he does. I mentioned to a newer
convert aspiring to become a minister that God will crush idols we won’t lay
down. His response was humorous yet extremely somber, “I’d better not idolize
my family, because I don’t want God to take them away!” Corrie Ten Boom, who
sacrificed so much for the gospel, advised us to “Hold everything in your hands
lightly, otherwise it hurts when God pries your fingers Open.” John Newton,
upon burying his beloved adopted daughter, said,
He takes away our children, or our
friends, that He may have our hearts more entirely to Himself. When our
cisterns are broken, we are more driven to the fountain.
This is a hard lesson from Abijah. Had his mother sought the
child’s life, praying that he would not die when she entered the city, and had God
granted it, she would have been sealing his doom later when God destroyed all
of the men in Jeroboam’s household and their corpses were defiled. Had she held
Abijah back to save her immediate suffering, she would have cast him into
immense—perhaps infinite—future suffering.
Because she did return, the good that God had seen in Abijah
her son ensured that he would be welcomed into heaven when she set foot in the
city and he died. In her obedience I believe we also see a glimpse of the faith
that would save her later, though I can’t say that for certain.
Death the Defiler
If only Abijah’s mother had seen the loophole in God’s
warning, “when your feet enter the city, the child shall die” (1 Kings 14:12),
she could have run off and never returned to that city again. Josephus
speculated that she was an Egyptian, which matches with Jeroboam spending time
in exile in Egypt (1 Kings 11:40), so she could have just gone home to Egypt
and the child would not have died.
But I think she did see that loophole. Why then would she
return? Wasn’t this a cruelty for the child? No, it was a mercy, because she
knew if the child did not die then, he would not be buried. If he didn’t die
now, he would later die and be defiled. Some preachers and commentators have
said that this prophet’s words were only devastating, but I see that God left a
glimmer of hope.
We live in an era of mostly clean death. We usually aren’t
witnesses to the aftermath of trauma. We see corpses that are dressed up and
made up to appear to still be alive, or when that’s not possible we often see
closed caskets, and more and more commonly we don’t even have a funeral or
memorial. I was in a group of pastors recently where we lamented over how
hidden death has become in our culture. It’s not gone, it’s just hidden, and
it’s out of sight and out of mind. I’ve counseled my fair share of grieving
family members who cannot find closure because the last time they saw their
loved one they were vivacious and thriving, but after they died the immediate
family opted for no funeral or memorial.
Of the infant funerals I’ve officiated the mortician did a flawless
job in presentation and the babies either looked alive or like perfect dolls.
Nothing visually about those babies would make death seem something to be
feared or despised. A few years ago, we disinterred an infant so he could be
buried next to his father who was killed in Iraq ten years after the baby had
died; for reasons that I don’t understand the funeral home opened the casket
and everyone was surprised at how perfectly embalmed and flawless the baby’s
body still looked a decade later.
For the time immediately following death, hospitals have
specially designed preservation cribs so that parents are gifted precious
minutes to grieve before the postmortem effects begin to take effect. I love
that these cribs provide bonding and grieving time, but I hate that there is a
need for them to exist. Historically we needed to bury the deceased as soon as
possible. In death we see the corruption of sin. Even David, “after he had
served the purpose of God in his own generation, fell asleep and was laid with
his fathers and saw corruption” (Acts 13:36). But in burial we also see the
hope of the resurrection.
But when we sterilize and minimize death, we seem to be
trying to hide both the corruption and the hope, and do our earthly best to
remove the sting of death from this world. Part of this is because we’re afraid
of death. Part is because we don’t want to consider the consequences of our
actions. Part of it is just because we trust the coroners, morticians, and
medical professionals to properly handle the body once the soul has departed.
But probably the biggest reason we hide death is because we don’t want to
consider our own mortality.
Despite this temporary blessing of death being out of sight
and out of mind, our consciences and grief scream that something is terribly
wrong.
Most of human history could not fathom this separation from
death, nor imagine that death could be considered sterile or clean. Jeroboam’s
wife certainly could not, she knew the horrors of death and why the statement,
“the wages of sin is death” is such a concrete and frightful promise. The sting
and victory of death reigned from Adam until Christ, and is still reigning in a
world plagued by sin.
The Hope of Resurrection
After Christ’s resurrection we can confidently say with
Charles Spurgeon, “Death is a stingless dragon to the believer.” But before
Christ’s resurrection death had a nasty sting. This sting was mitigated before
Christ in burial, such as when Israel (aka Jacob) died and his body was not
buried in Egypt, but carried home to be buried in the promised land (Genesis
50:2, 5–6, 12–13), as was Joseph disinterred from Egypt to be buried at Shechem
(Joshua 24:32), and the remains of Saul and Jonathan were rescued from public
display to be buried in Israel (2 Samuel 21:12–14).
All of these represent the expectation of a resurrection,
that God Is the God of the patriarchs, not
God Was
the God of the patriarchs (Matthew 22:31–32). But for those who were cursed by
God and would not be raised to eternal life, but eternal death, the disposition
of the body was considerably different,
Your carcasses will be food for
all the birds of the air and the beasts of the earth, and there will be no one
to frighten them. ~ Deuteronomy 28:26
This is why God refusing them burial was such a curse on
Jeroboam (1 Kings 14:11), Baasha (1 Kings 16:4), Ahab (1 Kings 21:24), Jezebel
(1 Kings 21:23), Jehoiakim (Jeremiah 22:18–19), Gog (Ezekiel 39:4,17–20),
Pharaoh (Ezekiel 29:5, 32:4–6), and all who rebel against God in the last days
(Isaiah 66:24, Revelation 19:17–18). The absence of a burial in Israel was
tantamount to knowing that the deceased had no hope in the resurrection.
In church history this gave rise to the fallacious idea that
burial would contaminate the earth and give hope in the resurrection. It was for
this reason that Joan of Arc was burnt at the stake under the charge of
relapsed heretic, and her enemies hated her so much that her ashes were then
burnt twice more and the Seine River received her final earthly remains.
This is why it was so important for Jeroboam’s wife to see
her son buried. Though it meant the end of his life, it preserved his favor
with God and his expectation of eternal life.
We have to answer a hard question: what happened to all of
the babies who for whichever reason did not receive a burial. Is that
indicative of their cursed state? I would say no, and I’ll prove it. First, the
long list above of defiled enemies of God, while not exhaustive, is the result
of rebellion and is a specific warning to a specific people. Just as dispersal
in the Old Covenant was proof of cursing (Deuteronomy 28:64), dispersal now is
often a proof of God’s blessing and commission (Acts 1:8, 1 Peter 1:1).
Many of God’s most faithful saints have not received a
burial, such as John Hus whose body was burned and his ashes thrown into the Rhein
River by his enemies so that—if they had any say in the matter—he would have no
part in the resurrection. Or Maekyn Wens who refused to stop preaching as she
was executed so they affixed a tongue screw to silence her until she was burnt
to ashes; the law forbade her burial so the ashes would have been simply swept
away or cast into the nearby Scheldt River. Hugh Latimer was burned at the stake for
standing against the idolatry of kings and queens; as he died he declared to
his friend Nicholas Ridley, “Play the man, Ridley, for we this day shall light
such a candle in England as I trust shall never be put out!” The ashes of
Latimer and Ridley were left to be trampled in the dust, and five months later
would be intermingled with the ashes of Thomas Cranmer on the same spot. Time
would fail to tell of Tyndale, Savonarola, Jerome of Prague, Polycarp of Smyrna,
among countless others who met such ends. John Wycliffe, who we previously
mentioned had died and was buried, was later exhumed by enemies of Christ, his
bones burned, and his remains cast into the River Swift.
Herman Melville, in writing of whalers lost at sea, captures
the pain felt by those who cannot visit a grave and know that the body has
wasted away and lost seemingly forever,
Oh! Ye whose dead lie buried
beneath the green grass; who standing among flowers can say, “Here, here lies
my beloved.” Ye know not the desolation that broods in bosoms like these. What
bitter blanks in those black-bordered marbles which cover no remains… and
refuse resurrections to the beings who have placelessly perished without a
grave.
But the Bible anticipates the question of what happens to
God’s holy ones whose bodies are not buried, but lost. Do they refuse to participate
in the resurrection? How can God find all of the tiny pieces of these bodies to
put them back together and resurrect them? For all we know Latimer, Ridley, and
Cranmer are part of the streets of Oxford now. Will God resurrect sidewalks?
From dust to dust and ashes to ashes, how can these saints dwell in heaven in
heavenly bodies if their earthly bodies were destroyed and defamed?
The Apostle John tells us that the dead, great and small
will be present on judgment day, including those whose bodies had seemingly
been lost forever. Among these little ones are Horatio & Anna Spafford’s
four daughters lost in the great expanse of the Atlantic Ocean,
And the sea gave up the dead who were in it… ~ Revelation 20:13
Ezekiel saw and heard something amazing in the valley of dry
desolate defiled bones,
As I
prophesied, there was a sound, and behold, a rattling, and the bones came
together, bone to its bone… ~
Ezekiel 37:7
and Job knew his eternity
was secure no matter that his body was quickly wasting away,
For I
know that my redeemer lives,
and at the last he will stand upon
the earth.
And after my skin has been thus destroyed,
yet in my flesh I shall see God. ~
Job 19:25–26
Until only recently this had to be taken as a matter of
faith; we didn’t know how God would do it, only that he would. With the mapping
of the human genome have we learned some of the intricacies of DNA; and while
it is still a great mystery, it has become clearer that our bodies are
intricately programmed at the molecular level and can be mapped. And if mapped,
can be rebuilt. Does God keep a perfect record of your DNA so that he can flawlessly
rebuild your body in imperishable form no matter how much damage or destruction
it has undergone here on earth (confer Psalm 56:8, 1 Corinthians 15:42)? I
believe so.
Jesus told us not to fear those who can only destroy the
body but cannot kill the soul, rather fear God who can destroy both soul and
body in hell (Matthew 10:28). Melville came to his senses to recognize that his
body they could kill, but his soul would endure,
Methinks my body is but the lees
of my better being. In fact, take my body who will, take it I say, it is not
me. And therefore, three cheers for Nantucket; and come a stove boat and stove
body when they will, for stave my soul, Jove himself cannot.[2]
Abijah’s mother, Jeroboam’s wife, knew that to save her
son’s life was futile if he lost his soul. She knew that God’s favor was far
more valuable than to live a vapor’s width of life on earth (James 4:14,
Matthew 6:27). If given the opportunity, I’m sure she would have sung with the
reformers,
Let
goods and kindred go,
this mighty life also;
the body they may kill;
God’s truth abideth still;
his kingdom is forever! ~ Martin
Luther
We hold fast to the knowledge that when we put off this body
of dust it will be planted like a seed in the ground, sown in dishonor and
weakness, raised in glory and power (1 Corinthians 15:43). One way or another
we will participate in the resurrection—that is sure—and may it always be that
we have God’s favor purchased through his Son’s death, and assured in his
resurrection.
As we look forward to the final resurrection, a scene I hope
God lets us replay in heaven is when the tombs were opened and the “bodies of
the saints who had fallen asleep were raised, and coming out of the tombs after
his resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many” (Matthew
27:52–53). If he lets us behold that amazing moment, look for Abijah and his
mother among them.
Conclusion
Abijah’s early death was exceedingly sad, but God had a
purpose in it. As we’ve seen, the premature death of some is to protect them
from defilement and sin in the future. If you have a loved one who departed too
early by our standards, know that they departed exactly on God’s timeline. An
old tombstone in England reminds us that he is working in his people,
“Who
plucked that flower?”
cried the gardener as he walked through the garden.
His fellow-servant answered, “The Master.”
And the gardener held his peace.
And Spurgeon adds this commentary to that gravestone,
God doesn’t let his choicest
flowers wither on the vine.
Take a moment and consider what suffering, pain, and most
importantly which desecration your beloved was spared from enduring. If you
could bring your baby back from heaven, would you? Would they want to return?
Most importantly, are you ready to go to them? Their favor with
God is assured, so your call is to make sure you’re seeking his favor with your
heart fixed on heaven and the hope of his resurrection.
They have sailed long enough who have reached the harbor, they have fought long enough who have won the victory, they have run long enough who have touched the goal, and they have lived long enough on earth who have won heaven—no matter how few their days here may be. ~ John Flavel
[1]“Up”
is indicative that Samuel was in the part of Sheol that we call “Abraham’s
Bosom” (Luke 16:22), as heaven had not yet been opened; just as the New Heavens
and New Earth have not been created yet; we often refer to all of these as
“heaven” though they are distinct places; what they have in common is God’s
grace and love and peace. Eternal life is knowing God (John 17:3), not living
in a certain place.
[2]Melville uses poetic sea-worthy language to describe himself. To “stave” or past tense “stove” a boat or body is to dash it to pieces. The “lees” is the byproduct of winemaking, the least valuable part of the process. Jove came to represent the powers of earth, of which Melville’s great white whale becomes the personification.
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