When Death Devastates: Lessons from the Death of Kobe Bryant
On January 26, 2020 life changed forever. In particular, it changed for the families of Gianna Bryant, John Altobelli, Keri Altobelli, Alyssa Altobelli, Sarah Chester, Payton Chester, Christina Mauser, Ara Zobayan, and basketball legend Kobe Bryant. The helicopter carrying all 9 of them crashed near Calabasas in California ending their lives and the budding next season of Kobe Bryant’s life and career.
The loss of the Lakers legend changed life for millions of fans and rivals alike. Thousands showed up at the Staples Center to demonstrate both grief and gratitude; leaving behind notes, memorabilia, flowers, and more. Graphics were created. Shirts were made. Murals were painted worldwide. Posts went live, and then went viral as seemingly the entire world expressed the most visceral and communal out-poor of grief for an individual in recent memory. The news outlets were in continual swarms of updates. Social media flooded with favorite memories. Talk shows completely restructured their schedule in honor. The entire NBA paid tribute. It seemed like everywhere you looked there was a reminder of how significant this man’s life was. Kobe was everywhere. Most everyone was hurting. In the midst of it all, the most consistent conversation piece I seemed to come across related to making sense of it all: Why Kobe? Why this way? Why was his daughter with him? How could God allow this to happen?
I earnestly related to all of it. I am no stranger to death. In fact, the past 7 years have played host to the most painful string of deaths I have ever experienced, most recently my grandmother who passed just about a year prior Kobe. In each instance of loss I have experienced the throws of grief. I probed the waters of introspection, shed tears from pain and joy as I remembered the life lost, and leaned on the strength of others to continue when weariness cloaked me. In the midst of it all, I found myself continually trying to make sense of no longer having connection to someone who had helped shape my daily reality for so long. There is no way to perfectly express the depth of the experience of losing someone who matters; who has made a lasting and meaningful impact on you, but all-at-once, the world seemed to experience this kind of loss with Kobe Bryant.
It cannot be debated that through his work on the court, his ambassadorship beyond it, his creativity, competitiveness and role as a father, Kobe Bean Bryant had a significant and deep impact on many lives, including my own. Kobe had a deep link to my personal life that I only realized a few years ago as Kobe played his last games in the NBA. I was lucky enough to see him play in person that year for the first time, and what a special moment it truly was. I cheered, I was in awe; for about 2 hours it felt like I was a kid again (until the Lakers lost to the Thunder, meh). Still, that was not the moment I realized his significance to me. That would come later that year. As Kobe prepared to play his final NBA game, Nike began to run a commercial called ‘The Conductor.’ It was hilarious. In it, Kobe hits a game-winner and the crowd begins to boo. Immediately, the lights shut off in the arena except for a singular spotlight focused on Kobe, who now stands alone at half court. He then points to random members of the crowd who are illuminated as they croon their disdain for the man who defeated their favorite teams for 20 years. (If I’m not doing it justice, I’m sure you can find it on YouTube.) At the end of the commercial, Kobe walks off into an illuminated tunnel as the fans ask him not to make them stop their hate [opposing fandom] now; it’s been too long to stop now. It’s at this moment that the commercial hits home that these are the last moments to cheer with Kobe on the floor, rather for or against him. It really captures the gravity of his retirement.
It’s so easy for me to remember this commercial because of what happened in those final seconds the first time I saw it: I cried. I mean, tears fell, then I was sobbing, then…I had to pull myself together before hitting a full-blown ugly cry. I didn’t understand it at first, but after some introspection, I understood the connection. My older cousin who I loved dearly had passed a few months before, and it struck me that Kobe’s time as a Laker ran almost concurrent to the most meaningful years I was connected with my cousin. Kobe’s retirement reminded me that a chapter of my life was closing with finality.
For about as long as I can remember, Kobe Bryant was at the pinnacle of sports for me. Following Jordan’s retirement (the real one, with the Bulls), I found myself a fan of the Lakers. This was mainly because my fanaticism of his Airness was second only to my older brother, who ALWAYS picked the Bulls when we played video games. I, in turn, always picked the Lakers. So when a young Kobe Bryant came to NBA as the heir apparent both to Jordan and the Showtime Lakers, I was full on-board. I watched the duo of Shaq and Kobe quickly become threats to the entire league before snatching 3 consecutive championships. I saw the conflicts and the smiles. I debated Kobe’s place in the pantheon. I witnessed the rough years with Smush Parker (shudder), and watched with gladness when Kobe led a new squad to two more titles. Those years contained a lot, but it was all captured in what we’ve come to know as Mamba Mentality: If you want it, you have to earn it. No excuses. Embrace the grind, because that’s the dream. It was about work more than talent, finding a way more than wallowing in excuses, about doing the work that no one sees to get the results that everyone appreciates. It was inspired. It was leadership. It was being about it rather than talking about it.
Grit like that is hard to come by, and is hardly ever executed in a way that was so universally respected (if not loved) as it was with Kobe. Maybe that’s why it’s so hard to say goodbye. Even today as he was memorialized alongside his daughter and the 7 other victims in the crash, it is hard to grip that we are speaking of him in a past-tense. When someone means this much, has accomplished so big, and seems to have so much left to give—how can it be time to say goodbye so soon? How can such a tragedy occur? I’m reminded today that these questions are not reserved for the deaths of celebrities, the most notarized, or the most publicly adored. In most instances of death, someone will feel this pain of grief that the Scriptures call the sting of death. While I’m not sure that the words of man will ever satisfy our questions why, I do believe there are several reasons for death, lessons and reminders that God gives us in the midst of grief that we would not otherwise obtain. Rather death is devastating you because of the loss of Kobe Bryant, his daughter Gianna, and their friends, or you have lost someone closer to you, I hope they give you some hope and some guidance in this time.
Death was not Originally Meant for Us
The Bible records in Genesis that man will surely die as a result of sin, a choice to pursue that which is outside of God’s will. Outside of the sin of man, there is no mention of an intent for men and women to die. Instead God gave to us an existence that was akin to paradise; something like heaven on Earth. It was the sinful nature of man’s heart that introduced sin; by pursuing sin and regarding God’s gracious gifts as insufficient, man ushered in death (Gen 3), which Scripture describes as both the wages of sin (Rom 6:23) and that which stings us (1 Cor 15:55-56). Death was not originally meant for us, and though it is now a part of our natural cycle, I believe that the weight or sting of it—the grief, the questions, the sadness, is all a reminder that God did not intend for it to be this way for us.
Reminder that Life is Fleeting
James 4:14 tells us that life is but a vapor. Elsewhere in Scripture we are told that the days of our lives are as the grass of the field, flourishing quickly but gone as quickly as the wind blows (Ps 103:15-16). Life is fleeting. Though we often feel that we and those most important to us will always be around, life can end for us at any moment. This means that death is not discriminating. No matter how young, how good, how smart, or accomplished people are, they will die; life will end. How we live it counts, and we don’t have as much time to live it as we often think we do.
Pursuit of Excellence
The Scriptures are clear on this, life will end. The Scriptures are also clear that in the short time that we are here, God has a purpose for us all. As His workmanship or masterpieces (Eph 2:10), we are to do our work (Col 3:23), love others, and serve the Lord for His glory (Mt 22:36-40). This means that we are to work enthusiastically (Eph 6:78), serve selflessly (Mk 10:42-45), and continuously re-calibrate our thinking to God’s heart as we go (Rom 12:1-3), aware that one day our opportunities to do so (and do it well) will come to an end. For this reason every effort, act of love, and moment living should be received with gladness and a readiness to do what is set before us (Jms 4:13-15). This is illuminated when someone who means much to us passes. We remember what they accomplished, who and how they impacted, what potential was left unexplored; it gives a direct mirror to what we have accomplished and what paths we have left untraveled. Even in the weakest moments of grief, it challenges us to carry on in our pursuit of excellence.
Need for Community
Just as we tend to take for granted each day we wake and walk the earth, we tend to forsake the relationships that God gives us. We don’t give people around us the time or attention we should, focusing instead on what is most pressing for us. We assume that there will be more time or that it does not take the toll it actually does. The Scriptures warn of both, teaching in Hebrews 10:25 that we ought not to forsake gathering together and again warning of the harm of selfishness and meaningless quarrels in James 4:1-3. When death comes close, we are reminded of the fleeting nature of life but also the fleeting nature of relationships. It reminds us of those we hold dearest, those we connect most with, and those who we have been distant from for far too long. We are reminded in the face of our fragile, finite state that one day we won’t be able to make that visit we’ve been putting off, make that call we’ve been neglecting, or laugh and cry with those we see far too little of. It rekindles both our need and our desire to be close to others.
Reminder of Grace
Death does not always produce the greatest appreciation of life, but it always gives the space for the reminder of grace. Facing the loss of someone significant, we are left to long for a day where death no longer stings, where tears are wiped from our eyes, and joy unspeakable abounds in our daily existence. Because of sin, we know that day is not promised in our current state, but Scripture promises us life through Jesus Christ (Rom 6:23), that eternal life has been extended to all who believe in Him because He took the penalty of death promised to us as the wage of our sin (John 3), and that all we must do is enter a redeeming relationship with God through belief and confession of Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior (John 17:3, Rom 10:9). This does not mean that those who believe will not one day die, but rather that those who believe will experience life even after death, where death has lost its sting, our tears are wiped away, and unspeakable joy abounds. This is great joy to those who believe. It gives the deepest hope for life, and the comfort of peace that surpasses understanding in the face of death (2 Cor 1:3-5). We mourn, but not as others do, because we know that we will live in that great day together, and death will ultimately not hold any power over us. It is defeated; our hope outlives death even when our body does not.
If you have not received this hope yet, I pray that today you will. A month after the death of Kobe Bryant, Gianna Bryant, John Altobelli, Keri Altobelli, Alyssa Altobelli, Sarah Chester, Payton Chester, Christina Mauser, and Ara Zobayan, many are still reeling, still feeling the pain of loss. My greatest lesson and encouragement in this time is that when death devastates, our great hope still wins. Blessings.