Some in pop culture are so famous only their first names are necessary – Elvis, Barack, Beyoncé, Kobe. Their celebrity status, their adoring fans, their self-promotion, and their major accomplishments combine to make their names household words across the globe. By now, you know Kobe died in a helicopter crash Sunday morning when, according to the latest reports, the craft slammed into a California hillside approaching 200 mph. All nine souls aboard the aircraft perished.*
Social media quickly spread the news of the death of Kobe Bryant and the images of the crash site. This wasn’t how the story was to play out for the 18-year-old kid who grew to stardom in the NBA over 20 seasons and will be a first ballot entry into the Basketball Hall of Fame later this year. Friends, teammates, opponents, and fellow celebrities mourned openly their sorrow at his death. The words tweeted, written, and blubbered over and again were “devastating” and “tragic.”
Yes, the deaths of the nine passengers were devastating and tragic, but no more devastating and tragic than the funeral Brenda and I attended on Sunday afternoon of a 59-year-old woman whose body succumbed to cancer or any funeral you recently attended. Death is always devastating and always tragic, and death is no respecter of persons.
The psalmist teaches both the socially low and socially high experience death (43:2). According to the psalm, death doesn’t care if you are rich or poor, foolish or wise (43:10). Death has no regard for who you are, what you’ve accomplished, or what potential awaits you. Death is not interested in your world class athleticism or your Midwestern work ethic or your careful nutrition or your safety measures.
Death doesn’t ask your permission. Death doesn’t move according to your timetable. Death doesn’t care about your plans for today or tomorrow. Death has no regard for a baby not yet born or for a man who has lived 100 summers. Death respects no one. Death fears no one. Death exempts no one. Death just keeps coming. Death is relentless in its pursuit of you, your parents, your children, your siblings, your grandkids, your friends, and every human on the face of the earth. Death will not stop hunting you and yours until it catches you and kills you.
In an interview after his retirement when asked about his post-playing days, Kobe offered, “Life is too short…” Everyone knows this intuitively, and yet many still conclude, “that will never happen to me.” But it will happen to you. Human experiencing shows this, and the Bible declares it (Hebrews 9:27).
Because we do not know what a day will bring (Proverbs 27:1), we should live this day and this moment as if it is our last. That means…
Believe the gospel of Jesus Christ. Jesus taught us that he alone is the possessor of life (John 14). To believe on him is to secure the gift of immortality, a gift he made possible by his substitutionary death on his cross.
Take care of today’s problems today. Paul told the Christians in Ephesus not to “let the sun go down” without taking care of problems with people close to them (4:26). Haven’t you been to funerals where family members were visibly troubled by the broken relationships made all the more painful by the death that draws them together? To the extent that you are able to right the wrongs, break down the walls, build the bridges, mend the fences, or whatever imagery fits you, do what you can to fix what’s broken between you and other people before death makes repair impossible.
Make your minutes count. Compared to eternity, our lives a nothing but a vapor (James 4:14). Like a vapor, we appear on earth’s grassy fields and snow covered hills for seconds. The collection of those seconds means minutes. In those minutes, God intends for us to do something of eternal consequence as we “redeem the time” (Ephesians 5:16) and work for Christ in a way that accomplishes something that reflects his glory and blesses the church (Philippians 2:16). Make good use of the minutes. Don’t waste them accomplishing only what matters in the moment but doesn’t matter for eternity.
Kobe is the latest, but he’s not the last. Kobe is the most famous but not the only one on the helicopter. We are on the clock too. It’s just a matter of when and how. We no longer fear death because of the resurrection of Jesus, but we do understand its inevitably, so we prepare accordingly and trust God for his grace in the moment for us and for those whom we love (Psalm 23).
*In addition to Kobe and his 13-year-old daughter Gianna, also killed in the crash were John and Keri Altobelli and their 13-year-old daughter, Alyssa,; Christina Mauser, an assistant basketball coach at the Mamba Academy; and Sarah Chester and her daughter, Payton, 13.
As always I welcome your feedback and any suggestions you might have for an upcoming Lunchtime Musing.
Mike VerWay
Pastor for Preaching & Vision