Death Saves the Day

The Hogfather, a movie based on a novel by Terry Pratchett, tells the story of the Grim Reaper (death), who steps into the world of men in order to save it from eternal darkness.

In the opening scenes we are told that things exist because people believe in them. That belief includes tooth fairies, Greek gods, bogeyman and pigs that fly. The sun comes up, the story goes, because people believe. In particular, they believe in the Hog Father, a Santa Claus character who comes once a year on Hogwatch (Christmas Eve), to give gifts to children.

A mysterious council of other-worldly characters – known as the auditors of the universe – dislike the people’s devotion to the Hog Father and so they hire an assassin to secretly do away with him. The assassin, wicked from head to toe – hatches a plot to convince the people, and especially children, to no longer believe in things unseen.

Death, whose job includes monitoring the hourglasses that represent every life, notices that the Hog Father’s hourglass is beginning to run out. He understands: No Hogfather, no new day, no sunrise – ever again.

In order to keep people believing and save the world from perpetual darkness, Death enters the world and assumes the appearance of the Hog Father (who is now dying).

In the movie, Death is a curious and even likeable character. He also represents a paradox.

Death admits he’s indifferent to things like justice and mercy, yet he goes around raising the dead, showing kindness, and is on this voluntary quest to save the world.

Now there’s a twist. Death entering the world of men in order to save them.

Death is no friend (1 Corinthians 15:26) and yet, in the Gospel, death is also instrumental in our salvation. Death is the means by which God brings justice and mercy into the world through the crucifixion of His Son. In the death of Jesus, justice and mercy meet and there, at the cross, death does away with our biggest enemy – sin.

And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him having forgiven us all our trespasses, by cancelling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross (Colossians 2:13-14)

Death is no picnic, but in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, death is no longer so fearful. No longer so deadly. What is deadly is sin. What would be dreadful is perpetual darkness. And so, when death enters the world, it’s ultimate target is not man, but the wickedness of man. Sin.

And so, fittingly – and given the fact that this world and all its stories run along the lines of the gospel – and despite Pratchett’s best efforts to be a good atheist and secularist – the movie ends with the resurrection of the Hog Father, the glorious dawning of a new day and, most importantly, the death of sin – the assassin.

It’s this paradox in the Christian faith that sets it apart from all other faiths. Jesus enters the darkness in order to dispel it – through death. And when death has done its job, death will also be put to death, and we shall live.

[And] He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. (Revelation 21:4)

May this year be a year where remaining sin in us meets its death. Where the fear of death is conquered by the kindness of God who raises the dead. Where mourning (and boredom) are swept away by the sheer wonder of God’s goodness and mercy throughout all creation.