No Stinger Left

Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: “Death is swallowed up in victory.” O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain. (1 Corinthians 15:51-58 ESV). I don’t often preach at funerals any longer. However, this year we have had three in our little church. One of those dear folks was just a few weeks shy of 100 years old! He was considered the patriarch of the family and will be greatly missed. It reminded me of another dear friend whom I led the memorial service for several years ago. Weldon Watson first welcomed our family to Weatherford with an invitation to his home for Sunday lunch. My boys were young at the time and he entertained them with his many projects. He was a meticulous craftsman. His shop was filled with interesting tools and projects in one stage of completion or the other. Looking back over my notes I remembered a wonderful story that was an encouragement to me. I pray it will encourage you as well. A vacationing family drives along in their car, windows rolled down, enjoying the warm breeze of the sunny day. All of a sudden, a big bee darts in the window and starts buzzing around inside the car. A little girl, highly allergic to bee stings, cringes in the back seat. If she is stung, she could die within an hour. "Oh, Daddy," she squeals in terror. "It's a bee! It's going to sting me!" The father pulls the car over to a stop, and reaches back to try to catch the bee. Buzzing around toward him, the bee bumps against the front windshield where the father traps it in his fist. Holding it in his hand, the father waits for the inevitable sting. The bee stings the father's hand and in pain, the father lets go of the bee. The bee is loose in the car again. The little girl again panics, "Daddy, it's going to sting me!" The father gently says, "No honey, he's not going to sting you now. Look at my hand." The bee's stinger is there in his hand. Our reading today says, "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" There is One who knows the sting of death, the sting of sin, the sting of deceit, the sting of feeling worthless. He has all of those stingers in His hands. When you see that nail-scarred hand, realize that, on your behalf, He took all the pain that the enemy could through at Him. He reduced the enemy to a big black bee that's lost its stinger--all the devil can do is buzz. That's the victory that He won for you.