Archives For Death

Everybody loves Jeremiah 29:11: “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord. Plans to prosper you, and not harm you. To give you a future and a hope.”

We eat that stuff up like delicious, delicious candy.

Or what about “I can do all things through Christ Who strengthens me?”

That’s a good one, too!

“Taste and see that the Lord is good, and blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him.” That’s a great one, which has adorned many a pillow down through the years.

How about “God is faithful in that, with every temptation, He provides a way of escape that you may be able to bear it?”
That’s a good one! And it’s probably the genesis of the oft-quoted (but less than biblical idea) that “God never gives us more than we can bear.”

Poppycock, I say! Tis pure balderdash!

Is this the same God Who says “In this world you will have tribulation?” Is it the same God that admonishes us to “work out your own salvation with fear and trembling?” Is is the same God Who promises us “they shall hate you because they first hated Me?”

When the last time you saw that cross-stitched anywhere?

Or taught about in your church for that matter?

What about the epistle of First Peter, where we’re told “after you shall have suffered, God will?” We kind of gloss over that don’t we? Nobody wants to suffer, endure pain, or hardship.

But God promises it.

We shall be delivered up, the world shall hate us. Some of us will even die for our faith–be martyred.

Cheery thoughts, I know. These are the not so precious promises of God. The ones we don’t like think about.

Here’s another one: “Whether we live, or die, it is for Christ.” And “to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.” Fact is, nobody wants to die. But sooner, or later, we all do. There’s no avoiding it. Whether by “famine, or nakedness, or sword, or peril” nothing is able to separate us from his love. Not Ebola, or ISIS.

OR ANY OTHER THING ANYWHERE.

Here’s a promise you can stake your life (and afterlife) upon:

“Fear not him [ISIS, disease, the devil] who can destroy the body, but Him Who can destroy the soul [God].”

What’s your favorite not-so-precious promise of God?

I have been mulling this one over, unsure of how to proceed.

But this is the most important blog post you’ll ever read.

Why do I say that? Is it bald hubris, or mere temerity?

No, rather it’s all about life, death, and eternity.

Specifically:

Where will you spend yours–when this life is done, and you’ve had your fun–do you just go into the ground to become

The diet of worms?

Or is there something more?

And if there is, what are you doing about it now? What are you waiting for? You see, what I believe is that there is a life beyond the one we live day-to-day in fleshly decay.

One which goes on forever, that outlasts these born-to-die frames.

And that life?

That life has a name:

Jesus.

Whoever you are, wherever you’re at, call out to Him today.

Don’t delay.

This has been the most important blog post you’ll ever read.

When someone so well-loved, widely regarded, respected, and talented as Robin Williams was passes on it’s like losing a friend. Or a family member. This is someone who came into our homes week after week, who we visited at the cineplex, who was in the news.

So it hits hard.

Doubly so, and especially for those of is who grew up watching Mr. Williams’s work, because it reminds us of stark naked reality: if someone so rich, successful, and nearly universally loved as Williams was can die, so can we all.

We are not immune to death’s call. So far as I know there’s but one way to enter this world (birth), and though it take a myriad forms, one way to leave it:

Death.

As the story of Williams’s death broke we all felt you chill winds of mortality blow over our souls. Wealth, success, fame, power, regard are no antidote. While wealth may buy us extra time, it’s no guarantee. The late Steve Jobs was a billionaire, was able to extemd his life by a few years, yet still he had to pay the boatman.

Death, as Shakespeare said, is the “undiscovered country, from whose borne no traveler returns.” Even those of us who are Christians don’t know what awaits us on the other side. We have the Bible, and we have hope. But none of, despite claims to the contrary, has actually crossed over, seen what lies in that far country, and come back to report our findings.

It doesn’t work that way. God generally does not, as much as we wish it, gives us foreknowledge of our own ends. He teaches is instead to number our days, to live as if He were coming back, indeed to live as if each day was our last.

Because we never know. It could be a car accident, a plane crash, a heart attack, a tumor, or any number of things which could lay each one of us low. The only think I know that is sure, upon which I have staked my life, is this:

“He that believes in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. He that lives and believes in Me shall never die. Do you believe this?”

That’s what it comes down to, friends:

Faith, and

Trust

Where are you placing yours? Knowing that this one life you’ve been given here upon this earth will end, where–in whom–are you placing your faith, your trust?

Your (eternal) life depends upon it.

The Tao of Poo #fb

randomlychad  —  June 16, 2014 — 1 Comment

Maybe I’m odd, but sometimes I think about poop. As a young man, I used to silently laugh at all of the commercials touting the benefits of regularity.

Then I got older.

And realized it’s indeed painfully uncomfortable to be anything other than regular. Now even if fiber is the right thing to do (thanks, Wilford Brimley), this post isn’t really about the health benefits of a morning constitutional (or a high colonic, for that matter). Rather, it’s about those things which emanate from us naturally. Whether that be feces, urine, perspiration, toe cheese, what have you…

Harsh words, slander, backbiting, gossip, anger, bitterness, vengeanace… The list goes on.

There’s a theology to be found in contemplating out natural body processes. Indeed, the simple fact of the matter is that there are things which proceed forth from us quite naturally, and all of which stink. All bespeak of decay, of breakdown, of death. Of our very human condition. C.S. Lewis once wrote of there being a theology of dirty jokes, i.e., the very reason we are uncomfortable with what is very natural, and normal, is because somewhere, on an instinctual level, we realize we are more (as Yoda wisely said) than mere “crude matter.” Luminous beings are we, certainly; yet nevertheless mired in shit. Stained on the inside.

This is the Tao of Poo, natural theology:

Where everything that comes forth naturally from you, me, everybody, stinks to high heaven. This is as immutable as entropy–things wear out, and the center cannot hold…

But for Jesus.

He has come to give us new a life, a new nature, a new heart. This is not natural, but supernatural. It’s not something we can transact on our own. For “there is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end of the ways thereof is death.” Our ways end in death, “but thanks be to God through Jesus Christ Our Lord” who has given us life.

Life eternal, everlasting, neverending. Even so, these bodies will fail, and everyday remind us of their decay. Whether it’s a cut, hunger–or a trip to the restroom–there’s a theology there for all who have ears to hear, and eyes to see.

Beating our fists bloody at inexorable air, trying to defy the passage of time, we find–at the end of the line–our bodies, our hearts, our minds

Fail

As we decline into that good night.

Our rage a peripatetic fit, the fight unwinnable…

Until:

The inexorable slide is swallowed up in the tide of the grace of an ineffable God.

Our bodies made new, our minds renewed:

Free at last from sin’s crimson stains, the mortal takes on immortality

Only joy remains

Only joy.