Kobe’s Death and the Desire for Eternity
Olympic medals won, NBA records set, and a grieving audience of family, friends, and fans. The athletic arena lost a legend on January 26, 2020.
Kobe Bryant’s death has stunned not only the city of Los Angeles and Lakers fans, but also continues to overtake primetime news, Instagram feeds, sports channels, and perhaps every other communication medium. And why?
Everyone’s death is imminent, yet our culture stands immersed in the death of a former professional basketball player. The unexpected loss. The fame of athletes. The influence of legacy. While the tragic loss of “the Mamba” reveals his impact on players, coaches, and fans alike, but why has the culture responded to Kobe’s death with such sadness and disbelief?
The redemptive story sheds light on this tragedy. In the midst of grief, there’s hope for redemption and the future kingdom. How do we engage with grievous death—in particular, Kobe’s tragic death—in light of gospel hope? How do we view death, whether of a legendary athlete, our aging family member or longtime friend, or even ourselves? And more broadly speaking, how does our present suffering today precede our future glory?
THE SHOCK OF MORTALITY
The gospel story both directs our response and deepens our reflections. The way we respond to death, suffering, and tragedy is rooted in our beliefs. What a woman or man believes determines his behavior. Let’s consider how we and those around us have reacted to the tragic death of a legend, Kobe Bryant.
Aging grandparents in nursing homes die. Drug addicts in alleys die. Soldiers in war die. But our legends like Kobe Bryant seem invincible. The shock of mortality reveals a person’s view of mankind. The death of a legend is no different than your aging grandparents, a drug addict, or a soldier in World War I. Kobe Bryant wasn’t invincible, and neither are we.
But why the shock? Why did we think the Mamba was invincible? Jesus didn’t say “If you face tribulation” but “you will have tribulation” (Jn. 16:33). Since the fall of man in Genesis, this world has grieved the pain of suffering, sin, and death. Whether it’s the doctor informing you of cancer invading your body or Kobe’s tragic death, suffering often seems to surprise us. Just as a terminal illness diagnosis rocks a family or a hurricane devastates the coastlands, Kobe’s helicopter crash shocked and stunned us all.
We must remember mankind’s frail nature. In light of the smallness of man and suffering in the fallen world, the gospel compels us to see ourselves and others through this same lens, so as to grieve suffering but not be so utterly shocked by it. Yes, we grieve the tragic death of Kobe Bryant, of our aging grandparents, of the stillborn baby. But the Scriptures call us to grieve not simply with shock but rather with submission to and hope in the God who rules and reigns over all (1 Thess. 4:13).
THE INSUFFICIENCY OF WORLDLY GRIEF
Culture’s response to Kobe’s death over the past week has been marked by hopeless grief. This kind of grief has a ceiling. Why? If a person’s story ends with death, what remains? Sadly, that seems to be the experience of many.
“Mamba Forever” isn’t just a sentimental saying. Kobe Bryant, like all of us, will spend forever somewhere. But if your hope is only in this life and this world, what happens when you pass? You’re hopeless. You grieve only what you can see.
But there is another kind of grief; a godly grief with eternal hope. This is the kind of grief Christians experience. We grieve not only what we see but what we don’t see.
Detached from gospel hope, our response to grief and suffering expresses itself in denial, anger, bitterness, depression, and isolation. Christ gives us the freedom to honestly cry out in our pain before God. The scope of the expression of grief from Kobe’s death reveals this pain. Tributes, songs, artwork, tattoos, custom T-shirts.
The scriptures, too, capture the honest emotions of humanity—barren Hannah crying out to the Lord for a child; David, weeping over his son Absalom; Job worshiping before the Lord after losing his children; Mary, Martha, and Jesus weeping at the death of Lazarus. God’s Word both empathizes with and encourages us in our grief.
THE SUFFICIENCY OF GODLY GRIEF
Experiencing loss and suffering in this life is as sure as the rising sun. None of us will go through life free from the effects of sin, and no one is immune from the pain of living in a fallen world. A seminary professor of mine, Dr. John Hannah, used to remind his students that we are either coming out of a storm, deep in the midst of a storm, or approaching a storm. So in all of our grief, we must recognize that God is both with us and for us. Otherwise, our suffering remains unbearable.
This biblical framework shapes our response. The external suffering involving Kobe’s death is tragic, heartbreaking, and significant. There’s also an internal suffering element as we grieve in the havoc. In the aftermath of loss, we respond either with a heart submitted to the self (worldly grief) or to Christ (godly grief). In this moment of grief, we must be honest with both our circumstances and with our God.
Too often, we move too quickly from our pain without fully embracing the reality of what has happened. The tragic death of Kobe Bryant must and should be grieved. There’s no timetable for godly grief. We express freely what has happened (Job 3:25–26, Ps. 42:3–5). This honesty sheds light on our suffering so God might redeem our pain. There’s always a purpose in our pain. God doesn’t waste anything. So keep his glory in view (1 Pet. 1:6–9).
The God of the universe, who goes before all things and holds all things together (Col. 1:17), can handle our pain (Ps. 62:8). As we are honest with God, we find comfort in him as he helps and holds us (Lam. 3:31–33, Isa. 43:1–3).
God’s promise is that we have not been left alone; that he is near and he understands and will sustain us through our grief. Not only this, but our suffering will not last forever! For there will be a day when all our pain and grief—even death itself—will be swallowed up at the return of Jesus. He will return to make all things new, and we will be raised with him.
OUR INNATE DESIRE FOR REDEMPTIVE HOPE
How do we respond to suffering? Whether it’s the tragic death of a legend or a family member, we have and will continue to face death, suffering, and sin on this side of eternity. Despite the ceiling of worldly grief, the desire for hope remains (Rom. 15:13). Hope in the midst of death. Hope in the midst of darkness. Hope in the midst of destruction.
Both believers and unbelievers alike possess an insatiable thirst for a better story. There’s hope amid helicopter crashes. There’s a call for Christians to respond with this redemptive hope. There’s a better day coming. Just as Paul exhorted the church at Colossae, we too must remember to remain “stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel” (Col. 1:23). Believers have been reconciled to God by Christ’s death (Col. 1:22), and thus we can hope in our future resurrection with Christ.
In our grief, the call is to cry out to Christ, to trust him, and to run to the promise of redemption found in his life, death, and resurrection. Suffering precedes glory. Just look at the cross.
While we may not know the full purpose of the pain of all Kobe Bryant’s family, friends, and fans now, it draws us to the hope to which we cling (2 Cor. 4:16–18). There will be a day when all we know, all the pain and suffering, will end. Our affliction now pales in comparison to the eternal weight of glory (2 Cor. 4:17).
The glory of the Kingdom awaits. Hope in the glory to come while you grieve in the present.
WHERE DOES YOUR HELP COME FROM?
As we grieve Kobe’s death, may we run, repent, and remember. Run to the Lord in our shock and suffering. Run to his promises. Run to his presence and trust in his purposes. May we freely express our pain before him, clinging to the promise of his nearness and faithfulness.
Then we repent. We repent from any way we have seen this tragedy through the eyes of the world rather than through Scripture. We place our trust fully in the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Lastly, we remember the gospel. We remind ourselves of our help. We remind ourselves of our hope:
“I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth” (Ps. 121:1).
Lacey Stevenson is the wife of a pastor and a teacher of the Bible. She previously served on staff as a groups minister at The Village Church in Dallas, Texas, and earned a Th.M. from Dallas Theological Seminary in 2015. Lacey and her husband, Tanner, live in Wichita, Kansas. Lacey teaches rhetoric/composition, apologetics, and Bible at the Classical School of Wichita. Previous publications include The Gospel Coalition and the DTS Magazine. You can read her blog at purplegoods.net and follow her on Twitter.