Blogger: Janet Kobobel Grant
On this Memorial Day, I want to pause to reflect on what happens to us–the essence of our being–when we die. That might seem morbid, but I think the Bible gives us a beautiful portrayal of what we transition to when we “shuffle off [our] mortal coil,” as Shakespeare expressed it.
Paul, in 1 Corinthians 15:36-43, asks about that transition and answers his own question this way:
“But someone will ask, “How are the dead raised? With what kind of body will they come?” How foolish! What you sow does not come to life unless it dies. When you sow, you do not plant the body that will be, but just a seed, perhaps of wheat or of something else. But God gives it a body as he has determined, and to each kind of seed he gives its own body. Not all flesh is the same: People have one kind of flesh, animals have another, birds another and fish another. There are also heavenly bodies and there are earthly bodies; but the splendor of the heavenly bodies is one kind, and the splendor of the earthly bodies is another. The sun has one kind of splendor, the moon another and the stars another; and star differs from star in splendor.
“So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body” (NIV).
When I recently read this passage, I paused to think about the analogy of a seed that Paul uses. What if, I speculated, our physical bodies are like seeds, which are sown when we die, and when we rise from death, that seed has blossomed into our resurrection bodies?
Seeds bear no resemblance to the plant that grows from them. A watermelon seed looks nothing like a watermelon. Jesus mentions the mustard seed and how it grows into a tree. An acorn is of good size, but that’s nothing compared to an oak tree. A sunflower seed is a far cry from the glorious stature and color of a sunflower. And, of course, the transition from physical to spiritual is a transformation that these analogies don’t begin to touch on.
I find it glorious to think that the physical being I am contains within it the seed of whom I will be. Those I love who have gone on before me rest now, but they, too, will burst forth in a rich array of spiritual beauty that contains their essence in a more beautiful expression than we can imagine.
What a glorious day that will be!
As you think about your loved ones today, on this memorial day of remembrance, ponder the splendor and extravagant creativity God will display, recreating us into all he ever had in mind for us to be. Hallelujah!
Great post, Janet, for Memorial Day and every other day as well. While the thought of exactly how I might die can be terribly frightening, death itself isn’t when I remember what Jesus did for me.
In modern parlance, the real you is software. All of us who have accepted Jesus as our savior are headed for the ultimate hardware upgrade when we die, but the software will be the same, just running with a level of perfection we can’t even imagine now.
Perfect software is pretty hard to imagine. 🙂 But something to anticipate.
In heaven, I wonder, will we recognize one another by our souls instead of our bodies? Like identifying a book by its content, not its cover.
I think somehow God will manage to “grow” us into our very best likeness both via our souls and our heavenly bodies. But who knows!?
Since I have both a father and a step father to remember on memorial day, this verse is so wonderful to dwell upon. Thank you, Janet.
You’re welcome, Kristen.
Beautiful post, Janet. Avoid going there, myself. My focus survival. No alternative.
I was going to write that I totally understood. But I don’t. I just understand, not totally.
Can’t run hard race thinking of cool drink at finish line.Have to embrace pain, fatigue. Be one with the hurt to get through.
Janet, what a beautiful post. I never thought about my body as a seed, but I LOVE that concept. We will endure death in order to transition into the place, the beings God created each of us to be. You’ve given me much to ponder today.
Wonderful. Thank you. We simply cannot begin to imagine the wonders that heaven will bring. What a glorious day that will be! Hallelujah, indeed.
I saw you had made a comment and thought, “Oh, the theologically educated speaks.” I’m happy and relieved you liked the post.
Janet, beautiful.
So beautifully stated. God has so much in store for those who love Him. I’m looking forward to my new body because it has to be in better shape than this one!
I’ll add my amen to the new body thought, DiAnn.
Amen to the new body.
Janet, what a beautiful post. It is a comfort to me personally, and I so appreciate you sharing with us.
I’m thankful it was meaningful to you, Kim. Blessings!
Janet, I’ve never thought of myself as a seed on this earth which will bloom into something beautiful for heaven. How uplifting.
I pray for a wonderful and safe Memorial Day for everyone and their families.
God Bless America!
The cool thing is, we can enjoy some of the eternal here and now. The renewal cycle is all about life and death and then new life again, over and over. There is hope in every new bloom and every sunrise. Praises.
-BTW, I did a personal patriotic blog post post today in keeping with the Memorial Day theme. Thought you might enjoy it. Enjoy the holiday!
That’s especially meaningful for me today. My husband Al passed away just 3 months ago. 1 Corinthians 15 has meant so much to me during this time. Thank you for sharing, and the thought of a seed coming to life as a resurrected person, whole and recreated, is beautiful.
Carol, I’m so thankful the post was meaningful to you. I certainly thought about my husband when I recently read that 1 Corinthians passage with new eyes. He died almost four years ago.
Thank you for this beautiful post, Janet. And we not only are seeds, I hope we’re planting seeds with our writing that will influence and feed people in ways we may never know this side of Heaven.
My first thought when I read this was that I will see the child we lost, who’d be about 15 now. When we lost it, it was a tiny thing. But it was ours. I like to think it was a girl, and that thought has comforted me, because I can imagine her playing in heaven. Sometimes, I can see her face. Will God have given her red hair like me and my daughter Katie, or will she be a brunette like my husband and 3 sons?
I also imagine that when I cross into glory, I will hear “Hi Mom, I’ve been waiting for you!”
These are such sweet thoughts, Jennifer.
You made me cry. Amen. You’re a minister to this dark world. May the Lord surely bless you, sister. I knew that you were the type of agent I was searching for.
Just read this now. Yes, hallelujah! Thank you, Janet.