Albert Barnes Commentary 1 Thessalonians 4:13

"But we would not have you ignorant, brethren, concerning them that fall asleep; that ye sorrow not, even as the rest, who have no hope." — 1 Thessalonians 4:13 (ASV)

But I would not have you to be ignorant. I would have you fully informed on the important subject referred to here. It is quite probable from this that some erroneous views prevailed among them regarding the condition of those who were dead, which tended to prevent them from enjoying the full consolation they might otherwise have received.

It is probable that the apostle had been informed of the prevalence of these views by Timothy on his return from Thessalonica (1 Thessalonians 3:6). We are not distinctly informed what these views were, and can only gather them from the allusions Paul makes to them, or from the opposite doctrines that he states, which are evidently designed to correct those that prevailed among them.

From these statements, it would appear that they supposed that those who had died, though they were true Christians, would be deprived of some important advantages that those would possess who survived until the coming of the Lord. There seems some reason to suppose, as Koppe conjectures (compare also Saurin, Sermons, vol. vi. 1), that the cause of their grief was twofold.

One reason was that some among them doubted whether there would be any resurrection (compare 1 Corinthians 15:12). They supposed that those who had died were thus cut off from the hope of eternal happiness, leaving their surviving friends to sorrow as those who had no hope.

The other reason was that some of them believed that, though those who were dead would indeed rise again, it would be long after those who were living when the Lord Jesus returned had been taken to glory, and that they would always be in a condition inferior to them.

See Koppe, in loc. The effect of such opinions as these can be readily imagined. It would be to deprive them of the consolation they might have had, and should have had, in the loss of their pious friends. They would either mourn over them as wholly cut off from hope, or would sorrow that they were to be deprived of the highest privileges that could result from redemption.

It should not be regarded as surprising that such views prevailed in Thessalonica. There were those even at Corinth who wholly denied the doctrine of the resurrection (1 Corinthians 15:12).

We must remember that those to whom the apostle now wrote had been recently converted from heathenism. They had enjoyed his preaching for only a short time, had few or no books on the subject of religion, and were surrounded by those who had no faith in the doctrine of the resurrection at all.

These objectors were doubtless able—as skeptical philosophers often are now—to urge their objections to the doctrines in such a way as to greatly perplex Christians.

The apostle, therefore, felt the importance of stating the exact truth on the subject, so that they might not have unnecessary sorrow, and so that their unavoidable grief for their departed friends might not be aggravated by painful apprehensions about their future condition.

Concerning them which are asleep. It is evident from this that they had recently been called to part with some dear and valued members of their church. The word sleep is frequently applied in the New Testament to the death of saints. For the reasons this is so, consult the explanations on John 11:11, 1 Corinthians 11:30, and 1 Corinthians 15:51.

That ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope. This means, evidently, as the heathen who had no hope of future life. Compare Ephesians 2:12.

Their sorrow was caused not only by the fact that their friends were removed from them by death, but also by the fact that they had no evidence that their souls were immortal, or that, if they still lived, they were happy, or that their bodies would rise again. Hence, when they buried them, they buried their hopes in the grave; and as far as they had any evidence, they were never to see them again.

Their grief at parting was not mitigated by the belief that the soul was now happy, or by the prospect of again being with them in a better world. It was on this account, in part, that the heathens indulged in expressions of such excessive grief. When their friends died, they hired men to play in a mournful manner on a pipe or trumpet, or women to howl and lament in a dismal manner.

They beat their breasts, uttered loud shrieks, rent their garments, tore off their hair, cast dust on their heads, or sat down in ashes. It is not improbable that some among the Thessalonians, on the death of their pious friends, kept up these expressions of excessive sorrow. To prevent this, and to mitigate their sorrow, the apostle refers them to the bright hopes that Christianity had revealed, and points them to the future glorious reunion with the departed pious dead. From this, learn the following:

1. That the world without religion is destitute of hope. It is just as true of the heathen world now as it was of the ancient pagans, that they have no hope of a future state. They have no evidence that there is any such future state of blessedness; and without such evidence there can be no hope. Compare Ephesians 2:12.

2. That the excessive sorrow of the children of this world, when they lose a friend, is not to be wondered at. They bury their bones in the grave. They part, as far as they know or believe, with such a friend forever. The wife, the son, the daughter—they consign them to silence, to decay, to dust, not expecting to meet them again. They look forward to no glorious resurrection, when that body will rise, and when they will be reunited to part no more. It is no wonder that they weep—for who would not weep when he believes that he parts with his friends forever?

3. It is only the hope of future blessedness that can mitigate this sorrow. Religion reveals a brighter world—a world where all the pious will be reunited; where the bonds of love will be made stronger than they were here; where they will never be severed again. It is only this hope that can soothe the pains of grief at parting; only when we can look forward to a better world, and feel that we will see them again—love them again—love them forever, that our tears are made dry.

4. The Christian, therefore, when he loses a Christian friend, should not sorrow as others do. He will feel, indeed, as keenly as they do, the loss of their society, the absence of their well-known faces, the want of the sweet voice of friendship and love; for religion does not blunt the sensibility of the soul, or make the heart unfeeling. Jesus wept at the grave of Lazarus, and religion does not prevent the warm, gushing expressions of sorrow when God comes into a family and removes a friend. But this sorrow should not be like that of the world. It should not be:

   • such as arises from the feeling that there is to be no future union;
   • it should not be accompanied with repining or complaining;
   • it should not be excessive, or beyond what God designs that we should feel.

   It should be calm, submissive, patient; it should be that which is connected with steady confidence in God; and it should be mitigated by the hope of a future glorious union in heaven. The eye of the weeper should look up through his tears to God. The heart of the sufferer should acquiesce in Him, even in the unsearchable mysteries of His dealings, and feel that all is right.

5. It is a sad thing to die without hope—to die in such a way as to have no hope for ourselves, and to leave our surviving friends with no assurance that we are happy. Such is the condition of the whole heathen world, and such is the state of those who die in Christian lands who have no evidence that their peace is made with God.

   Because I love my friends—my father, my mother, my wife, my children—I would not want them to go forth and weep over my grave as those who have no hope in my death. I would want their sorrow for my departure to be alleviated by the belief that my soul is happy with my God, even when they commit my cold clay to the dust. If there were no other reason for being a Christian, this would be worth all the effort it requires to become one.

   It would demonstrate the unspeakable value of religion if my living friends could go forth to my grave and be comforted in their sorrows with the assurance that my soul is already in glory, and that my body will rise again! No eulogy for talents, accomplishments, or learning; no paeans of praise for eloquence, beauty, or martial deeds; no remembrances of wealth and worldly greatness, would then so meet the desires that my heart cherishes, as to enable them, when standing around my open grave, to sing the song that only Christians can sing:—

Unveil your bosom, faithful tomb,
Take this new treasure to your trust;
And give these sacred relics room
To seek a slumber in the dust.

Nor pain, nor grief, nor anxious fear
Invade your bounds. No mortal woes
Can reach the peaceful sleeper here,
While angels watch the soft repose.

So Jesus slept: God’s dying Son
Passed through the grave, and blessed the bed.
Rest here, blessed saint, until from His throne
The morning breaks, and pierces the shade.

Break from His throne, illustrious morn;
Attend, O Earth, His sovereign word;
Restore your trust—a glorious form—
Called to ascend, and meet the Lord.

//WATTS//.