Just Some Recent Reflections

About 17 people perished yesterday when a small boat cap-sized in Branson, Missouri. Can you imagine what the families and friends of those people must be going through? We like to separate ourselves as far from death as possible. We tend to do this with all of life’s unpleasantries, but especially death. This isn’t a revolutionary observation. We know this to be true. We distance ourselves from it. We tell ourselves it’s far-off, in the future. Whenever thoughts about death or dying come to mind, we try to replace them with happy, distracting thoughts. And if people start talking about death, we quickly change the subject, or even chastise them for even going ‘there.’

The opposite principle is true for pleasant things, right? If you are about to get married, you hasten the day and talk about it in such a way to make the time between now and the event seem shorter. If you are going on vacation, you long for the time off and get excited about spending time at your destination. We hasten the reward and shun the unpleasant. We are always trying to comfort ourselves as we move along through this life in the here and now. Anything that makes us uncomfortable, we rid of. Anything that makes us feel pleasure or happiness, we draw close. When we’re in a particularly wonderful season of life, we try to draw it out as long as possible; we grasp it tightly. Whenever we’re in a season of suffering or a time of great agony, we want to hurry-it-along as quickly as possible and get thought it. Isn’t this interesting? Do you think this behavior works to our advantage or our disadvantage in light of eternity?

The Christian desires great nearness to Jesus and hopes and longs for eternity; to be delivered from his/her weak body. Death isn’t a fearful thing to the Christian. His hope is in the life to come, not this one. The opposite is true for the non-Christian. He/She fears death. He preserve this earthly life at all costs. He casts himself as far away from Jesus as possible, because He (to whom we must all one day give an account), seems dreadful. A life of works or “true religion” seems pitiable and lacking in enjoyment. He puts all of his hope into the offerings of this world. To paraphrase C.H. Spurgeon (because he puts things so well), you will never hear of a Christian on his death bed regretting or lamenting a life spent in nearness to Jesus or of striving after righteousness. However, you will often see the man or woman who lived a life of striving after their own desires in a journey of unrepentant sin, full of great regret and melancholy.

As Christians, we have much to look forward to. Our hope is not in this life or this world. The former things are passing away and a new order of things is coming. Eventually, all of us alive today (whether in Christ or not) will die and days and months and years will dissolve away as we begin eternity. The things that were once important and so dear to us, will no longer be. We will be separated from them. This is also an individual experience. We have to go from the ‘now’ into eternity alone, without company. Again, we ‘put this off’ from us. It’s unpleasant. Morbid. Depressing. I turn 30 next month. Based on average life expectancy, I should have a good 45 years left. Maybe. However, most people I talk to that are already up in age (70s, 80s, and 90s) have said that life goes by so fast–like a blink. We hear these things, and of course we dismiss them. But then, every once in awhile, even in our young age, we are confronted with death. Maybe every couple years with the passing of aging family members or with sudden, unexpected losses of close friends. We pass by a cemetery one morning on a drive and are struck by reality. When a boat cap-sizes and 17 people perish.

Jesus has been teaching me. Remember, for the Christian, He works ALL things together for our good, for those who are called according to his purpose (Rom. 8:28). Experiencing the loss of my father recently ‘snapped’ me back into reality, out of a more devil-may-care existence. He’s teaching me many things recently. Some things He’s teaching me have yet to play-out or are less visible, but I know he is preparing me for an eternal weight of glory beyond all compare (2 Cor. 4:17), just as He did so for my Dad when he was in his affliction the last 4 years. Depressing things happen in this life and a melancholy response is appropriate when those things happen. It is an evil thing to sing in a time when gloom and sadness is appropriate (Ecc. 3:1-8). And the Proverb says, “Whoever sings songs to a heavy heart is like one who takes off a garment on a cold day, and like vinegar on soda” (Prov. 25:20).

Charles Spurgeon was well aware that the soul and mind can experience much greater, much deeper, and longer lasting affliction than the rest of the body. And injury to soul and mind can happen over and over again, whereas the body after being stabbed or shot so many times, will die. Bereavement isn’t the only thing that causes deep trouble of heart and soul. Abandonment, betrayal, and entanglement in sin can cause great sorrow of heart. David and (more importantly) Jesus, were both well-acquainted with grief:

I cry aloud to God, aloud to God, and he will hear me. In the day of my trouble I seek the LORD; in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying, my soul refuses to be comforted. When I remember God, I moan; when I meditate, my spirit faints. -Ps. 77:1-3

Isaiah says of Jesus,

He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

But there is hope for the Christian. As Spurgeon said, and as many Christians have throughout history done, we can “plead the promises of God.” However, whenever we get into a particularly dark season, as one recent author in a book I’m reading puts it,

Promises can rouse our cynicism. We once hoped in them, but now they resemble throwaway pennies, scrap papers or leftover bolts shoved away in the junk drawer. And yet, our need to reorient our lives around the risk of promises remains necessary, even if our relationship with promises reveals only our painful questions about them. Why? Because promises of a certain kind are like voices or realistic hope that intrude into our dungeon thoughts. They are ‘precious and very great,’ given as gifts to us from God (2 Pet. 1:4). Our souls need them. – Zach Eswine, Spurgeon’s Sorrows

So I will end with some hopeful verses, that as Christians, we can cling to when we are deeply vexed in spirit due to the heavy cares of life:

“He  will deliver us from the pit” (Ps. 40:2).

“Hope in God; for I shall again praise Him, my salvation and my God” (Ps. 42:11).

“The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit” (Ps. 35:18)

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” (Matt. 5:4).

And 3 particular verses that I shared with my Dad during his last 4 years, and especially during his last few weeks:

“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen, but to the things that are unseen” (2 Cor. 4:16-18).

“For God has not destined us for wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us so that whether we are awake or asleep we might live with him” (1 Thess. 5:9).

“For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Phil. 1:21)