We have tragic news to report from the world of politics.
Former Republican senator Ben Sasse announced Tuesday morning that he has been diagnosed with terminal stage-four pancreatic cancer.
Sasse shared the news in a moving message posted to his X (formerly Twitter) account.
“This is a tough note to write, but since a bunch of you have started to suspect something, I’ll cut to the chase: Last week I was diagnosed with metastasized, stage-four pancreatic cancer, and am gonna die,” he wrote.
“Advanced pancreatic is nasty stuff; it’s a death sentence. But I already had a death sentence before last week too — we all do.
“I’m blessed with amazing siblings and half-a-dozen buddies that are genuinely brothers. As one of them put it, ‘Sure, you’re on the clock, but we’re all on the clock.’ Death is a wicked thief, and the bastard pursues us all,” Sasse continued, adding:
“Still, I’ve got less time than I’d prefer. This is hard for someone wired to work and build, but harder still as a husband and a dad. I can’t begin to describe how great my people are.
“During the past year, as we’d temporarily stepped back from public life and built new family rhythms, Melissa and I have grown even closer — and that on top of three decades of the best friend a man could ever have.”
Sasse went on to offer updates on the lives of his three children, noting that his eldest just joined the Air Force, his middle child just graduated from college ahead of schedule, and his youngest is now learning to drive.
“There’s not a good time to tell your peeps you’re now marching to the beat of a faster drummer — but the season of advent isn’t the worst,” he continued.
“As a Christian, the weeks running up to Christmas are a time to orient our hearts toward the hope of what’s to come.”
From there, Sasse zoomed out, took a big picture view of the situation, and detailed the ways in which his faith has helped him endure:
“Not an abstract hope in fanciful human goodness; not hope in vague hallmark-sappy spirituality; not a bootstrapped hope in our own strength (what foolishness is the evaporating-muscle I once prided myself in),” he wrote.
“Nope — often we lazily say ‘hope’ when what we mean is ‘optimism.’ To be clear, optimism is great, and it’s absolutely necessary, but it’s insufficient. It’s not the kinda thing that holds up when you tell your daughters you’re not going to walk them down the aisle. Nor telling your mom and pops they’re gonna bury their son.
“A well-lived life demands more reality — stiffer stuff. That’s why, during advent, even while still walking in darkness, we shout our hope — often properly with a gravelly voice soldiering through tears.”
Sasse concluded his message with this:
“I’ll have more to say. I’m not going down without a fight. One sub-part of God’s grace is found in the jawdropping advances science has made the past few years in immunotherapy and more.
“Death and dying aren’t the same — the process of dying is still something to be lived. We’re zealously embracing a lot of gallows humor in our house, and I’ve pledged to do my part to run through the irreverent tape.
“But for now, as our family faces the reality of treatments, but more importantly as we celebrate Christmas, we wish you peace.”
Our thoughts go out to the entire Sasse family as they face this challenge together.