In spite of the pain, Sasse exudes a peace from above that is quite literally impossible to explain apart from the assurance he has in Christ.
I’ve made it a policy to never talk about politics in my writing. The simple reason is I don’t want anyone to ever confuse my political opinions with the gospel of Jesus Christ. That said, I am going to write about a former politician today. His name is Ben Sasse. He was a Republican senator from Nebraska who then went on to become the President of Florida University. When he was serving in the Senate from 2015 to 2023, he made it abundantly clear that he was no party loyalist, but rather a strict constitutionalist. So (showing my cards a bit here) I admired the guy. But recently, my admiration for him has shot up to eleven because Ben Sasse is dying in the most free, winsome, and godly way I’ve ever seen in public.
A self-described Luthero-Calvinist (Sasse grew up Lutheran before moving over to the Presbyterian Church of America), Sasse was diagnosed a few months ago with stage four pancreatic cancer. There is no cure. There are experimental drugs hopefully prolonging his time here, but he pulls no punches: he is going to die soon. What has he done with this dreadful news? He’s done a bunch of interviews, started a podcast called, “Not Dead Yet,” that is absolutely essential listening, and most importantly, is showing the world what assurance of salvation looks like in the face of our worst enemy. At a time where the Christian Church is often worthy of mockery for it’s public witness, Ben is showing us all what real evangelism looks like. In a recent interview with the New York Times’ Ross Douthat, Sasse showed up in a flannel, a Cornhusker’s hat, and an almost entirely scabbed face. Because of the experimental drugs he’s been taking, he literally bleeds from that face profusely. But, his demeanor, his attitude, and his posture doesn’t allow you to get distracted by his marred appearance. He is living life abundantly. He is defiantly laughing in the face of death.
Yes, not being able to walk his 24 and 22 year old daughters down the aisle one day stings brutally. Yes, the thought of leaving his 14-year-old son behind tears him apart (He’s stated the primary reason he’s taking experimental drugs is to have as much time with his boy as possible). And yes, he adores his wife and hates the thought of leaving her widowed. But in spite of the pain, he exudes a peace from above that is quite literally impossible to explain apart from the assurance he has in Christ.
I served as a pastor from coast to coast for 15 years. During that time, I had a few opportunities to see people who exemplified this peace. In my first call, there was a faithful saint named Charlene Gunderson. She had stomach cancer. Her and her family prayed and prayed sincerely believing God could heal her disease. Even as she continued to get more and more sick, they prayed and prayed. Eventually, it became clear that she was going to die. I was in my first week on the job goofily leading VBS in the morning and playing hospice chaplain in the afternoon. On about my third official day on the job, my mentor and I went over to the hospital to deliver communion to her. Charlene could no longer eat food. Nevertheless, we placed the tiniest crumb of bread and the tiniest drop of wine on her lips proclaiming triumphantly that Christ’s body and blood were given for the forgiveness of all of her sins. When each element was given, she looked up with tears in her eyes and in weak and whispered tones, said ‘Thank you Jesus, Thank you.”
I was reminded of this sacred moment last week when watching Sasse on the Douthat podcast. Towards the end, he was asked if he was ready to die. Sasse responded, “I don’t feel ready. But to whom would I go? I have confidence that when Jesus says to the disciples (he didn’t want to be identified as the Messiah yet) ‘keep these crowds away, don’t tell about the water-into-wine miracle at the feast’ - how amazing is it that Jesus’ first miracle is a big-ass party? Let’s drink more together.”
At this point, Sasse’ voice softened. And then in the same reverent and whispered tones I heard from Charlene, he said: “But Jesus also says, ‘you can’t keep the children from me.’ And we’re told that we get to approach the Almighty, we get to approach the divine and call him Daddy…….Abba Father. That’s pretty glorious. I know that’s what I need.”
At that point, Douthat seeks to end the interview. But he can’t. Visibly shaken, choked up, the journalist can’t get through Sasse’s name without crying. And because Sasse is a truly freed man in the gospel, he lovingly teases Ross, “Happy to open up a can of pansy ass on you haha.” This is what it sounds like to believe to the very core of your being that you are destined for eternal life. Christ alone allows the Apostle Paul, Ben Sasse, you and me to look our most dreaded enemy in the face and taunt it:
“Death is swallowed up in victory.”
“O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?” (1 Cor. 15:54b-55)
Why? Because:
“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” (1 Cor. 15:56-57).
That’s the hope Sasse is pinning everything on. And it’s the hope we all can pin everything on. As the sainted Rod Rosenbladt used to say, “We’re all in, betting all the blue chips on Christ.”
Amen.
