Till Death Do Us Part...
Exploring Marriage in Eternity

From wedding vows promising ‘til death do us part’ to funeral eulogies proclaiming, ‘together again,’ Christians navigate a paradox of marriage and death. On the one hand, we acknowledge the temporary nature of the marital union, yet our hearts yearn for a love that transcends mortality – a connection that persists into eternity. Are couples married here on earth still married in heaven? Are they really together again?

The question of marriage in heaven, particularly as addressed in Luke 20:27-33, presents a fascinating theological puzzle. Using the ancient practice of levirate marriage (Deuteronomy 25:5-10), the Sadducees thought they had come up with a scenario that reduced the doctrine of the resurrection to an absurdity.

Luke records, “There came to him some Sadducees, those who deny that there is a resurrection, and they asked him a question, saying, “Teacher, Moses wrote for us that if a man's brother dies, having a wife but no children, the man must take the widow and raise up offspring for his brother. Now, there were seven brothers. The first took a wife and died without children. And the second and the third took her, and likewise, all seven left no children and died. Afterward, the woman also died. In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be? For the seven had her as a wife.”

While Matthew 22:23-33 and Mark 12:18-27 also record Jesus’ interaction with the Sadducees, noting the absence of marriage in the resurrection, Luke’s account adds the crucial detail:

“The sons of this age marry and are given in marriage, but those who are considered worthy to attain to that age and to the resurrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage, for they cannot die anymore, because they are equal to angels and are sons of God, being sons of the resurrection” (Luke 20:34-36).

Jesus’ assertion that there is no marriage in the resurrection, coupled with His explanation of the absence of death, invites a deeper exploration of the relationship between earthly existence and eternal life.

In our current life, marriage counters the inherent loneliness of human existence by providing a means for mutual aid, comfort, and intimacy (Gen 2:18). However, in eternity, marital companionship relied on in this life, yields to the all-encompassing presence of God, Who, unlike any spouse, destroys the sources of pain and loneliness when “He will wipe away every tear" (Rev 21:4).

As mortals, marriage serves as the vehicle for procreation. The command to “be fruitful and multiply” (Gen 1:28) given to the first couple underscores the importance of marriage in ensuring the continuation of humanity. The necessity of reproduction is directly linked to our mortal condition. However, in the absence of death, the need for procreation—and consequently the need for marriage—vanishes when we put on immortality (1 Cor 15:53).

In this life, societal pressures that often define a woman’s identity, such as the woman in the Sadducees’ example – marital and maternal status – become irrelevant in a world without death. In eternity, such earthly labels as wife and mother are surpassed in the perfect relationship with the Father (1 Jhn 3:1-2).

Lastly, in the earthly realm, marriage symbolizes the relationship between Christ and the church (Eph 5:22-33). In the resurrection, the symbolism of marriage becomes a reality in the perfect communion of Christ (Rev 19:6-10). A wife no longer submits to her husband (Eph 5:22-24), for she is in the presence of Christ Jesus, the head of all things (Col 1:18).

The absence of marriage in eternity, as explained by Jesus, does not negate the importance of marital love or companionship here and now but rather highlights the transformative power of eternal life, where all things are made new in the presence of God. As we yearn for a reunion with a departed spouse, remember that we will meet around the throne of God, not as marriage partners but as fellow believers united in Christ Jesus, which surpasses the intimacy experienced in even the best earthly marriage.

Empty Clichés - The Shallowness of Comfort

Job’s friends came with good intentions, hoping to comfort him in his deep suffering (Job 2:11-13). However, their speeches unveil a harsh reality: well-meaning words can frequently inflict more harm than silence (13:4-6). Their remarks, filled with hollow clichés, empty platitudes, and simplistic theological claims, showed a considerable lack of understanding (my favorite is Zophar's in 11:7-12). As Job himself sarcastically stated, “No doubt you are the people, and wisdom will die with you!” (12:2).

We’ve all found ourselves on the receiving end of, or perhaps even said, the well-meaning but ultimately empty attempts to provide comfort through clichés. Phrases like “God has a plan for you,” “Everything happens for a reason,” “Look on the bright side; it could be worse,” “If God leads you to it, He’ll lead you through it” often fall flat, leaving the suffering person feeling unheard and dismissed. Why do these overused phrases fail to bring comfort? Because they:

• Trivialize Profound Pain: Instead of acknowledging the crushing weight of grief, the temptation is to reduce complex human experiences to shallow sound bites. For example, telling someone who has lost a child, “God works in mysterious ways,” offers no real comfort and can seem dismissive of their deep pain. Empty clichés minimize the sufferer’s experience by suggesting that their pain is easily understood or overcome, ignoring the unique and deeply personal nature of their suffering.

• Lack Genuine Empathy: Too often, we offer generalized advice without considering the unique circumstances and emotional states of those who are suffering. For example, telling someone who is struggling with a chronic illness to “just stay positive” disregards the daily physical and emotional challenges they face. True empathy requires actively listening, striving to understand, and acknowledging the individual’s specific struggles rather than providing generic solutions.

• Dismiss Real Emotions: Empty clichés unintentionally suggest that the sufferer’s feelings are unimportant or insignificant. For instance, saying, “Don’t feel that way” or “Don’t say that,” invalidates the person’s emotional reality and can foster feelings of shame or isolation. Acknowledging emotions, even the negative ones, is essential for healing. Recognizing that it's okay to feel sad, angry, or confused creates space for connection and support.

• Offer False Hope: Canned expressions may create unrealistic expectations or overly simple solutions that fail to address the underlying issues. Telling someone who has lost a loved one, “God knows you can handle this,” overlooks the practical realities of grief and can lead to feelings of frustration, isolation, and despair. True comfort involves providing realistic encouragement and tangible support rather than empty promises.

The Book of Job powerfully reminds us of the inadequacy of such platitudes. Despite their apparent piety, Job's friends ultimately exacerbated his suffering by failing to listen and genuinely empathize. Their words, meant to heal, instead deepened his isolation.

As believers, we are called to be present with those who suffer, to listen attentively, and to acknowledge the complexity of their experiences. True comfort does not come from providing simple answers but from seeing their pain, offering sincere empathy, and walking alongside them on their journey toward healing.

Have you ever heard a sermon on worry and anxiety that left you feeling—well, more worried and anxious? You’re not alone. Far too often, Christian teachings on anxiety and worry miss the mark and actually make matters worse. I know it contradicts what we often hear, but Christians shouldn’t strive for a worry-free life. Let me explain why.

The words “worry” and “anxiety” are often treated as inherently negative in far too many lessons, but their meaning is more nuanced. Anxiety, worry, and we’ll include concern are neutral emotions; they are neither good nor bad. Unfortunately, the application of anxiety and worry has narrowed to encompass only negative emotions. This semantic shift, called pejoration, where a word’s neutral meaning becomes more negative over time, has led to a skewed understanding of these concepts in many Christian circles. The act of caring deeply or being concerned – which these words represent – is not inherently wrong. The problem arises not from the feeling itself but from the object of our anxiety.

Nevertheless, sermons on worry and anxiety frequently focus solely on overcoming these feelings, often citing Matthew 6:25-34, Philippians 4:6-7, and 1 Peter 5:7. While these passages offer valuable guidance, they present only part of the picture – a negative one at best.

It might surprise you to hear that the scripture actually offers examples where “anxiety” and its related concepts are viewed positively as something Christians should feel.

In Philippians 2:19-20, Paul commended Timothy for being “genuinely concerned” for the Philippians (using the same root word as “anxiety” in Philippians 4:6). This raises a crucial question: if Philippians 4:6 truly forbids all anxiety (as some make it out to say), why praise Timothy for his anxiety for the Philippians? I believe this suggests that Philippians 4:6 addresses anxiety related to something else altogether and not general concerns (a topic we’ll cover in a future article).

Similarly, in 2 Corinthians 11:28 Paul boasts about the things he suffered for Christ: shipwrecks, beatings, etc., with the capstone being “apart from other things, there is the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches.” This wasn’t a negative emotion to overcome but rather a deep, godly concern for their well-being. If all anxiety is bad, then how could he use his anxiety for the churches as a badge of honor?

Furthermore, 1 Corinthians 12:25 provides another important example. In discussing the body of Christ, Paul exhorted believers to have “the same care” for one another. This “care” uses the same root word as “anxiety” and highlights the importance of mutual concern within the church community. Paul isn’t suggesting we should live a worry-free life; rather, he emphasizes the necessity of caring deeply (or being anxious) for the well-being of fellow Christians.

Finally, 1 Corinthians 7:32-34 discusses the advantages of being unmarried, noting that the unmarried person is “anxious about the things of the Lord.” This “anxiety” reflects a focused concern and dedication to God’s work. Paul then contrasts this with the married person’s divided interests, needing to be “anxious” (concerned) about pleasing their spouse and anxious for the Lord. This isn’t condemned; it’s presented as a natural consequence of marriage.

These examples demonstrate that biblical “anxiety” can encompass positive concern and care. The problem with the limited application of many sermons is that they seem to paint any concern – for a sick spouse, a struggling friend, or a child’s safety – as inherently wrong. This not only creates unnecessary guilt but also neglects the full counsel of God. A balanced approach acknowledges both the dangers of excessive worry and the importance of healthy concern and care for others and the things of God. True spiritual maturity involves discerning between these two and directing our anxieties appropriately.

Have you ever been so close to something you desperately needed, only to find an obstacle in your way? That’s the challenge the paralytic’s friends faced in Luke 5:17-26. Imagine wanting to desperately see Jesus – your only hope for healing. Now imagine the people who should be helping you blocking your path. This is the difficult reality of this story and a challenge for us today.

The familiar text begins, “On one of those days, as He was teaching, Pharisees and teachers of the law were sitting there, who had come from every village of Galilee and Judea and from Jerusalem. And the power of the Lord was with Him to heal. And behold, some men were bringing on a bed a man who was paralyzed, and they were seeking to bring him in and lay him before Jesus, but finding no way to bring him in, because of the crowd...” (vv. 17-19a).

This scene forces us, as people of faith, to ask a serious question: Am I an obstacle to someone trying to get to Jesus? Do I participate in gossip that tears others down? Do I judge people unworthy of the gospel based on their appearance, their past, or their struggles? Do I offer a helping hand to those who are hurting, or do I turn a blind eye? These are difficult questions, but essential ones.

It’s easy to point fingers at others, but true change begins with self-reflection. Have we ever been an obstacle to someone encountering Jesus? The truth is that our spiritual shortcomings can sometimes overshadow the grace we claim to represent. But the good news is that God is in the business of transformation. He can soften our hearts, renew our minds, and empower us to love as He loves. 

But let’s look at the other side of this coin. Despite the religious leaders being a barrier, the paralytic’s friends were not deterred. “They went up on the roof and let him down with his bed through the tiles into the midst before Jesus” (v. 19b). Their faith wasn’t passive or dependent upon others. It was active, bold, and resourceful. They wanted to get their friend to Jesus, and they found a way, even if it meant tearing a hole in the roof! What lengths are we willing to go to get to Jesus? And bring others to Jesus? This is a powerful example of how we should prioritize our faith and the needs of others.

There will be people – even Christians – whose actions and words will challenge our faith. But our faith isn’t in people; it’s in God. Just as the paralytic’s friends bypassed the Pharisees, we can’t let the sinful imperfections of others keep us from Jesus – we must own our faith in Him. Because He is the only one who heals, forgives, and transforms.

This week, let’s commit to reaching out, not pushing away, to being bridge-builders, not wall builders. Reach out to someone who might feel excluded or marginalized. Offer a word of encouragement. Extend a helping hand. Let our actions reflect the love of Christ. Let us strive to be a church where everyone feels welcome, loved, and accepted. And let us remember that our faith is in Jesus, the barrier breaker, who is always ready to receive us.

Numbers 11:6 vividly depicts the Israelites complaining during their wilderness wandering. “But now our strength is dried up, and there is nothing at all; we have nothing but this manna to look at.” Imagine it: Daily, miraculous bread appeared from heaven – a gift, pure and simple. Yet, the Israelites grumbled. Their focus shifted from the blessing itself to a longing for what they didn’t have. They remembered the “good old days” in Egypt (which weren’t that good!), “We remember the fish we ate in Egypt that cost nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic” (Num 11:5). How soon they forget these free foods came at the cost of their lives as slaves.

Isn’t it just like us? We pray for a specific blessing. God answers. And then… we find something to complain about! Maybe the job isn’t exactly what we envisioned. Perhaps the answered prayer doesn’t align with our specific timeline. Or perhaps our health improves, but not as dramatically as we hoped, so we focus on the remaining symptoms instead of the progress made. Like the Israelites, we can minimize the blessing in front of us by comparing it to something else, something we think we’d rather have.

The Comparison Trap:

The Israelites’ issue wasn’t just ingratitude; it was comparison. They compared manna to the variety of foods they remembered in Egypt (BTW, have you ever noticed how they focus on the foods that give you bad breath?). Comparison is a dangerous game. It breeds discontent and steals our joy. Proverbs 27:20 wisely states, “Sheol and the abyss are never filled, and never satisfied are the eyes of man.” Just as the grave is never full, our eyes are never satisfied with what they see, constantly wanting more.

This insatiable desire fuels comparison, leading us to covet what others have and diminishing the blessings in our own lives. Like the Israelites, we can minimize the great blessings in front of us by comparing them to something else, something we think we’d rather have. This constant craving for “more” prevents us from appreciating the “enough” that God has already graciously provided.

Remembering God’s Faithfulness:

The antidote to complaining and comparison is remembering. The Israelites had notoriously short memories! Psalm 78 provides a powerful example of this cycle of divine faithfulness and human forgetfulness. The Psalmist recounts God’s mighty acts: "He divided the sea and led them through; he made the water stand like a heap. In the daytime, he led them with a cloud, and all the night with a fiery light… He split rocks in the wilderness and gave them drink abundantly… He rained down on them manna to eat.” (Psa 78:13-14, 15, 24). Yet, despite these clear demonstrations of His power and love, the Israelites “forgot His works and the wonders that He had shown them” (Psalm 78:11).

When we take time to reflect on God’s faithfulness in our lives, remembering specific instances where He has intervened and provided, it shifts our perspective from what we lack to what we have been given, strengthening our trust in His continued provision. Just as the Psalmist urges remembrance, we, too, should “declare His glory among the nations” (Psa 78:4), both for our benefit and as a testimony to others.

Cultivating Contentment:

Philippians 4:11-12 gives us a powerful lesson in contentment: “Not that I speak regarding need, for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content: I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere and in all things, I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.” Contentment isn’t an innate human quality; it’s a learned skill, a discipline we must cultivate. It’s not about passively accepting our circumstances but rather actively choosing to trust in God’s provision and sovereignty, regardless of our situation.

The key to contentment lies in verse 13: “I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” This acknowledges that true contentment comes not from our willpower but from the strength and grace that God provides. It’s a recognition of our dependence on Him and a surrender to His will.

Let’s challenge ourselves this week. When a complaint bubbles up, pause. Take a moment to acknowledge the blessings in your life that might be overshadowed by that grumbling spirit. Remember God’s faithfulness. Practice contentment. Instead of bemoaning the manna, let’s praise the Provider. This shift in perspective, from complaint to gratitude, can transform our hearts and minds. It allows us to experience the joy and peace that come from trusting in God’s abundant provision, even during challenging circumstances.