“Thus says the LORD:
‘Heaven is my throne,
and the earth is my footstool;
But this is the one to whom I will look:
he who is humble and contrite in spirit
and trembles at my word.’ (ESV)
Please, Lord, grant us, by Your grace, a humble and contrite heart, an attitude that trembles at Your word. Amen.
—
The theme of All Saints’ Day, All Hallows’ Eve yesterday (Halloween being a shortened form of Hallow’s Eve), and All Souls’ Day tomorrow—which we don’t observe—is death.
Death, it seems to me, is a taboo subject here in the West. Tonight, many people in Kenya will be traveling to attend the funerals of people they may have never met. Funerals are a significant cultural event where I come from. When I lived in Kenya, nearly every other weekend involved a funeral. Death is given a great deal of attention. In the region where I worked as a missionary, a largely Muslim area, everything would stop when someone died; my colleagues would suddenly leave in the middle of the day to attend an impromptu funeral for someone in the village.
Here in the West, it seems as if there’s an attempt to hide from death, hoping it will somehow go away. I’ve also noticed that people often downplay the reality of death, saying, “Oh, death is just a natural part of life we all need to embrace.”
I’m not saying my culture is better; But according to the Bible, death is not just a natural part of life that we need to embrace and move on from. Death is an enemy. Death is a cruel intruder that brings pain and devastation. It is a thief that robs us of the warmth of family and friendships. It is genuinely cruel when we don’t recognize the full weight of the pain that death brings.
When Jesus was confronted with the death of his friend Lazarus, we are told that he was deeply moved ad troubled in Spirit. We are told Jesus wept. Even though he knew he would resurrect him, death is a terrible thing.
The Bible is clear-eyed about the pain of death, yet it also gives us great hope—hope that death does not have the final word. Our reading from Isaiah contains one of the most cherished promises in Scripture regarding death.
In my tribe, funerals, though culturally distinct across tribes, often involve a lot of food and alcohol. When my father passed away three years ago, my family faced pressure from relatives to host a large celebration. Even though we wanted a modest event, we had to slaughter a whole bull and serve plenty of chicken and fish—a veritable feast.
Ad I thought about that idea of a feast in a funeral as I read Isaiah 25.
Let me read it again:
“On this mountain, the Lord Almighty will prepare
a feast of rich food for all peoples,
a banquet of aged wine—
the best of meats and the finest of wines.”
This is a grand celebration with nothing but the best. Rich food, the finest meats, and aged wine—not the kind from a bargain store, but the best quality. Nothing disappoints; no expense is spared.
And notice the guest list. Did you see that in verse 6? It says, “all peoples.” This is truly inclusive. The barriers are broken down, the welcome mat is laid out, and the hand of friendship extended—a feast of rich food for all.
But what’s the party for?
Verse 7 explains:
“On this mountain, he will destroy
the shroud that enfolds all peoples,
the sheet that covers all nations;
he will swallow up death forever.”
This isn’t just any party. It’s a declaration that death is ending—forever. That looming shadow, the anxiety over medical diagnoses or dreaded phone calls, will be gone. Death, swallowed up forever.
This is a wonderful promise, the Christian hope of resurrection, the future we eagerly anticipate, where tears will be wiped from every face.
Our hope is strengthened further by what happened 700 years after Isaiah’s prophecy: Jesus came and, in his very first miracle, provided the finest wine at a wedding, surprising everyone.
It was as though Jesus was saying, “All that Isaiah 25 promised? I’m fulfilling it. I’ve come to bring those promises to life.” Throughout his ministry, Jesus removed the shadow of death—healing the sick and even raising the dead. And ultimately, through his own death and resurrection, he demonstrated his authority over death itself.
Isaiah’s promise is not optimistic dreaming or science fiction; it’s a preview of our future—a future more certain than your next holiday plans or work tomorrow morning. “The Lord has spoken.”
So, on this All Saints’ Day, I invite you to envision that day when death will be a thing of the past. Imagine yourself at the feast, savoring the best foods, the delicate notes of fine wine, and feeling the Lord’s gentle hand wiping away every tear. Is that something you look forward to?
Often, we allow other things to occupy our minds. We become preoccupied with the next task, saving for the next holiday, or worrying about our jobs and careers. We plan for years, even decades, but rarely do we envision further ahead than this life.
But if we looked just a little further, we’d see something truly wonderful: the joy of God’s certain salvation. Real, deep, meaningful life—unthreatened by death, uncorrupted by fear. No more need for doctors, firemen, or insurance. Death, defeated!
“On this mountain, the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples
a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wine,
of rich food full of marrow, of aged wine well refined.
And he will swallow up on this mountain
the covering that is cast over all peoples,
the veil that is spread over all nations.
He will swallow up death forever;
and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces,
and the reproach of his people he will take away from all the earth,
for the Lord has spoken.”
“It will be said on that day,
‘Behold, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us.
This is the Lord; we have waited for him;
let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.’”