"He is not God of the dead,
but of the living,
for to Him all are alive.”
LUKE 20:38
This profound insight highlights the eternal nature of existence and the idea that, in God’s eyes, life transcends physical death. It encourages us to consider life beyond our earthly limitations and to recognize the spiritual dimension that connects us all. Whether one interprets this from a religious perspective or as a philosophical reflection, it underscores the significance of life and the interconnectedness of all living beings.
Some Sadducees, those who deny that there is a resurrection, came forward and put this question to Jesus, saying, “Teacher, Moses wrote for us, If someone’s brother dies leaving a wife but no child, his brother must take the wife and raise up descendants for his brother. Now there were seven brothers; the first married a woman but died childless. Then the second and the third married her, and likewise all the seven died childless. Finally the woman also died. Now at the resurrection whose wife will that woman be? For all seven had been married to her.” Jesus said to them, “The children of this age marry and remarry; but those who are deemed worthy to attain to the coming age and to the resurrection of the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage. They can no longer die, for they are like angels; and they are the children of God because they are the ones who will rise. That the dead will rise even Moses made known in the passage about the bush, when he called ‘Lord’ the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob; and he is not God of the dead, but of the living, for to him all are alive.” Some of the scribes said in reply, “Teacher, you have answered well.” And they no longer dared to ask him anything. (Luke 20:27-40)
These passages resonate with the promise of eternal life and transformation. In this context, it reminds us of the hope found in various religious and spiritual traditions. Those who have passed away are no longer bound by mortality. Instead, they are like angels, transcending earthly limitations. As children of God, they participate in a divine plan that includes resurrection or rebirth. The imagery of angels often symbolizes messengers, protectors, and beings of light. By likening departed souls to angels, the passage emphasizes their spiritual nature and their connection to the divine realm.
In essence, it speaks of continuity beyond physical death—a beautiful affirmation that life persists beyond our mortal existence. Whether one interprets this metaphorically or literally, it invites contemplation on the profound mystery of existence and the hope of reunion beyond the veil.
As King Antiochus was traversing the inland provinces, he heard that in Persia there was a city called Elymais, famous for its wealth in silver and gold, and that its temple was very rich, containing gold helmets, breastplates, and weapons left there by Alexander, son of Philip, king of Macedon, the first king of the Greeks. He went therefore and tried to capture and pillage the city. But he could not do so because his plan became known to the people of the city who rose up in battle against him. So he retreated and in great dismay withdrew from there to return to Babylon. While he was in Persia, a messenger brought him news that the armies sent into the land of Judah had been put to flight; that Lysias had gone at first with a strong army and been driven back by the children of Israel; that they had grown strong by reason of the arms, men, and abundant possessions taken from the armies they had destroyed; that they had pulled down the Abomination which he had built upon the altar in Jerusalem; and that they had surrounded with high walls both the sanctuary, as it had been before, and his city of Beth-zur. When the king heard this news, he was struck with fear and very much shaken. Sick with grief because his designs had failed, he took to his bed. There he remained many days, overwhelmed with sorrow, for he knew he was going to die. So he called in all his friends and said to them: “Sleep has departed from my eyes, for my heart is sinking with anxiety. I said to myself: ‘Into what tribulation have I come, and in what floods of sorrow am I now! Yet I was kindly and beloved in my rule.’ But I now recall the evils I did in Jerusalem, when I carried away all the vessels of gold and silver that were in it, and for no cause gave orders that the inhabitants of Judah be destroyed. I know that this is why these evils have overtaken me; and now I am dying, in bitter grief, in a foreign land.” (1 Maccabees 6:1-13)
The weight of unfulfilled dreams pressed upon him, a burden too heavy for mortal shoulders. His once-vibrant spirit now lay dormant, entangled in the thorny vines of disappointment. The room bore witness to his silent struggle—a canvas of shadows and whispered regrets. In the quietude of those days, memories danced—a waltz of joy and sorrow. He revisited moments when hope had soared, dreams had taken flight. Yet fate, capricious and unyielding, had clipped those wings. His grand designs lay shattered, like shards of glass reflecting fractured possibilities.
And so, he lay there—an atlas of uncharted paths, a symphony of what-ifs. His breaths grew shallower, like whispers fading into the ether. In the quiet moments before sleep claimed him, he wondered about the other side—the threshold where sorrow dissolved, and souls found release. Was there solace beyond the veil? Would he rise like a phoenix, reborn from ashes? Or would oblivion cradle him, erasing all trace of existence? The answers eluded him, veiled in mystery.
Yet, perhaps, that was the essence of faith—to embrace uncertainty, to surrender to the current that carried him toward the inevitable. For even in the dying embers, a spark remained—a fragile ember of hope. And as he closed his eyes, he whispered to the cosmos, “Grant me wings, or grant me peace.” And so, the room held its breath, caught between the ache of mortality and the promise of eternity. For in that stillness, he became both architect and dreamer—a bridge between what was and what could be.
I will give thanks to you, O Lord, with all my heart; I will declare all your wondrous deeds. I will be glad and exult in you; I will sing praise to your name, Most High. Because my enemies are turned back, overthrown and destroyed before you. You rebuked the nations and destroyed the wicked; their name you blotted out forever and ever. The nations are sunk in the pit they have made; in the snare they set, their foot is caught. For the needy shall not always be forgotten, nor shall the hope of the afflicted forever perish. (Psalm 9:2-3, 4, 6, 16, 19)
The wondrous deeds of the Divine are like constellations in the night sky—each one a testament to grace. In the symphony of existence, may our voices rise like incense, weaving melodies of thanksgiving. With all my heart, I echo Your praise, O Lord, as we stand on the precipice of awe.
Pericope:
VI: The Teaching Ministry in Jerusalem
THE QUESTION ABOUT THE RESURRECTION
Luke 20:27-40
III: Leadership of Judas Maccabeus
DEFEAT AND DEATH OF ANTIOCHUS IV
1 Maccabees 6:1-16
First Book of Psalms 1-41
THANKSGIVING FOR VICTORY AND PRAYER FOR JUSTICE
Psalm 9:1-21(A)
Reflection Source:
Microsoft Bing
