Guest Posts

Of all people, we Christians should be able to talk – amongst ourselves as well as with those who would not call themselves part of the Christian community – about death and mourning. Yet so often it feels to me that we’re scared of the conversations; we sing about death being defeated, but real discussion of it is, in my experience, rarely had. When death comes, in my experience of over 20 years of pastoral ministry, we tend to get the whole business dealt with as quickly and efficiently as possible so that normal life can recommence.

It’s all more than a little out of kilter with a Jesus who stared death in the face and felt no shame at weeping when his friend Lazarus died – and He did so knowing how that story was going to end. In Ecclesiastes 7:4 we read that “The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning”, but by this measure, many of us are short of wisdom. Tim Tucker is not one of those people; having experienced a tragic, sudden bereavement, this is his second book looking at the subject, and like the first one it’s a book that we’d all benefit from reading.

Clocking in at under 150 pages, it’s easy to read and always accessible; but that doesn’t mean it’s shallow. Far from it; this book contains brave engagements with what the Bible has to say about death and bereavement, and how God’s people are to deal with it. The book is also peppered with helpful guides for personal reflection or meditation; the online resources can be used with small groups as well.

A few years ago I – with the help of another member of the church – designed a Lent course for the church I was leading along these sort of lines. We called it ‘Prepare to Die (So You Can Live)’; it was, I know from what members of the church told me, the first time that some of them had given any sort of focused attention to the one thing we can say with certainty that we will all experience. We had Sunday sermons and midweek guided discussion groups; it was a helpful, if flawed, process for all of us. I dearly wish I had been able to use Tim Tucker’s books and other resources as a guide to what we were doing; it would have been a richer, truer experience for all of us. I can not commend this book highly enough.

Dave is an ordained Anglican priest originally from the UK. In 2010, he and his wife Bev moved to Cape Town, where Dave was Rector of a church until 2022. He is now exploring opportunities as a writer. He’s a husband, father, movie buff, reader and sports fan. He was provided with a copy of Finding Life After Death for this review. Dave has also written the reflection guide for Grief and Grace.

Finding Life After Death: a biblical survivor’s guide, is available from Amazon, The Message Trust, and Scripture Union. Please click here for purchase options.

[This article serves as the foreword to my new book, Finding Life After Death, a biblical survivor’s guide]

When Tim asked me to write a foreword for this book, my heart sank because I knew that I could not do it faithfully without confronting myself.

I have known him as a friend and a mentor and have tracked his journey with grief very closely. Recently, when a friend suddenly lost his wife to cancer, leaving him with three young children, I was grateful for Tim’s generosity and courage in sharing his story and processing his emotions in his first book, Grief and Grace, as we could use it as a guide to navigate the perilous waters of grief. This is one of the stories you will encounter in this book.

It is one thing to stand with someone in their grief as a consoling partner when tragedy strikes. It is another thing entirely to face your own grief.

About three years ago, a man I considered a mentor passed away following a short illness. His death revealed the pedestal I had placed him on, fuelled by my admiration and gratitude. I had learned so much from him and had looked forward to learning more. His death was a dagger to my heart because I had taken his continued presence in my life as a certainty, not really having contemplated something different. Like me, many mourned his passing and shared how they had been deeply impacted by his life. Shortly after his death, an investigator’s report revealed and concluded that my mentor had been guilty of abusing women and of living a life that contradicted the message that he taught and was well-known for. The painful testimonies of women dealt a blow to the image I had of this man and I was faced with the second death, that of my mentor as I had known him.

I then watched as the organisation I loved, composed of diverse communities worldwide, crumbled. I observed colleagues striving to reimagine their future, some, sadly, at the expense of integrity and godly character. I watched friendships that were seemingly forged by ‘heaven’ fall apart, and friends who were inseparable, frame each other in ways that made reconciliation a pipe dream. I watched as many were forced to relive their woundedness from their pasts as the themes in the revelations resembled their personal stories of abuse. I watched as we, known for being courageous in giving thoughtful answers to life’s tough questions, lost our collective voice and credibility to give a response to many who found new questions in the story.

During this time, I became involved in starting and leading a charity organisation that had, and continues to have, a profound impact on under-resourced communities. I got involved in leading peace-making and mediation efforts within corporations, schools, and sporting teams. I picked up qualifications in negotiations and dispute resolution, sports management and earned my master’s degree in international Affairs (cybersecurity) from the department of defence studies at one of world’s premier universities in the field.

One day, my wife held my hand and with all the love and gentleness in her eyes, looked at me and said “You have and are doing well with all your academic and professional accomplishments. But I think it’s also time that you hear that you are running away from your own grief. You are running at a fast pace doing really good things, but I think you are afraid of slowing down lest your broken heart catches up to you”. On that very day, I received a text from Tim, asking me to write a preface to his book. My heart sank.

From Tim’s previous book, I learned that without a proper guide, grief can become the uninvited guest who refuses to be ignored, outpaced, or willed away. She doesn’t heed the hints from one’s overly subscribed calendar nor does she regard the library of intellectual answers one can muster in a philosophy class. Instead, she colludes with time to lodge herself deep in the crevices of one’s soul, casting long, lingering shadows on the familiar — on the laughter that once danced effortlessly in the room, on the simple joy of morning coffee, on the comforting hug of a routine day. She imposes herself on the contours of the known, turning bright days grey, and in her wake, leaves a quiet dissonance that reverberates through the mundane, constantly reminding one of her unyielding presence. You can’t outrun grief.

As I read the manuscript, I received a fresh invitation to walk with God through a chapter in my life that I had wished many times would just be erased in time. I received fresh courage to ask my questions anew, questions that I had buried underneath layers of intellectual soil. I paused when Tim gently asked the reader to reflect on the major thoughts in every chapter. I prayed honest prayers and admitted that I needed God to help me mourn appropriately.

In the book, Tim writes, “Death is painful for those that remain. No matter how we try to explain it, rationalise it or theologise about it, death is painful. And the counsel the bible provides is that mourning is a righteous and necessary response to death.”

As you read the book, may you hear the voice that validates your anguish, connects you to meaning during a painful season and gives you a vision of God’s ‘life after death’.

*****to purchase Finding Life After Death, see https://linktr.ee/tim.tuckerbooks*****

Mahlatse Mashua, MD Roc Nation Sports International