This week we took a break from our series on Proverbs and talked about the Hesed of God.
Saying Goodbye to a Dear Friend
Yesterday evening, our dear friend who has been battling stage 4 metastatic breast cancer in her liver for the past 14 months stepped from this life into the life to come. She is now resting in the presence of the Father. Jan and I were able to say our goodbyes to her Saturday evening.
Audrey was one of the strongest women I have had the privilege to know. She had already beaten breast cancer once when we met her ten years ago. A lot of other people could tell you more of her story, how she served as a federal prosecutor in Florida, joined the staff of Campus Crusade for Christ and ministered in Eastern Europe and Canada for a few years. When we met Audrey, she was disabled due to what the cancer treatments had done to her, yet her strength was evident.
One of my first memories of Audrey was a time not soon after we became a part of the church we are in currently. After a Sunday service in the evening, a few of the women were going over to Audrey’s house to watch a movie. Jan was a bit unsure about going. Audrey made sure that Jan knew that that she wanted her to be there and promised her a ride home. That was the first of many times I saw Audrey’s compassion and kindness.
A few years later, she decided to study for the South Carolina Bar and seek employment as an attorney in Rock Hill. I remember sitting outside at church gatherings, helping her review. At one point, I mentioned that I had always had been interested in the law and had even taken some courses in constitutional law. She told me that if she was able to get a job with a law firm, she wanted to hire me as her assistant. She got that job, and a couple years later, I became her assistant. I consider it a privilege to have worked with someone who had a reputation as a fighter for what is right. She was a tireless advocate for families and children. It was an honor to help her work on adoption and custody cases, and on helping people with their estate issues. There was never a day that I woke up and didn’t want to go to work. That job ended, but Audrey continued to encourage me as I looked for work and as I began the work I have now.
There are really not enough words to express how much Audrey has meant to Jan and me, and how much we will miss her. She was a true sister in Christ and a great encouragement and help to us, and we are forever grateful for the blessing it was to know her these past ten years. That’s really not enough time, but we take comfort in knowing that we will see her again in the New Creation.
Goodbye for now Audrey. Take your well deserved rest with the Father. We will see you again. We love you.
A Little Update
This morning I had my tenth radiation treatment for my prostate cancer. I have nineteen more to go. As I was sitting in the waiting room, a young woman came in and sat down. She looked like she was in her late teens, early twenties. I thought, “She’s far too young to have to undergo radiation for cancer.” At the same time I thought of a dear friend who is in her last hours on this earth due to cancer, and how she is also too young.
These thoughts, combined with the fact that I was sitting in a waiting room waiting to receive radiation for cancer, made me quite aware again of the fact that none of us gets out of here alive, barring the return of Jesus to set all things right. The past year or so, I have been doing a bit of downsizing, housecleaning, whatever you want to call it with my personal posessions. I have also been doing the same in the ways I approach life and those around me.
The buzz word (or dirty word, depending on your point of view) among Christians, is “deconstructing.” It means different things for different people. I am doing some deconstructing, or maybe decluttering might be a better word. I am realizing that many of the things we allow ourselves to get all worked up about aren’t realy worth the mental or emotional energy. I care and less about national and world politics, although I will still speak about things that I think are important to my faith. I am learning to care less and less about what people think, although there is still a large part of me that wants to be liked.
My theology, like Karl Barth’s, is becoming more and more summed up in the words of the children’s song; “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so,” and my rule for living has become “Love God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind. And, love your neighbor as yourself.” I firmly believe that if those of us who claim to follow Jesus would practice those two commands, the church and the world would be better for it.
Life is short. Macbeth said that it is “a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” I heartily disagree. Life is a precious gift from our Creator, and we are to live in a way that gives back to him a bit of the love he has shown us, and that extends that love to those in our lives. Love the people around you, while there is still time.
Look Into Jesus
Back in 1972, one of the pioneers of “Christian Rock,” Larry Norman, sang a song titled, “Why Don’t You Look Into Jesus.” The lyrics speak of people who are trapped in an unending cycle of drunkenness, drug abuse, sexual hookups, and such. Then the lyrics say, “Why don’t you look into Jesus. He’s got the answer.” A simple message, and at the time this song was written, a message that seemed to resonate with many who were looking for answers and realized that they were not to be found in drugs, drunkenness, or promiscuity.
I wonder if we here, fifty years later, might do well to heed the message of this song from the heyday of the Jesus Movement, and look into Jesus in a fresh way. Have we moved from what is really the simple message of the gospel, and if so how do we get back?
In Revelation Chapter 2, Jesus tells John to write to the church in Ephesus. The message is that, for the most part, they are doing well. Their deeds, hard work, and perseverance are known. They do not tolerate wicked people, and have tested and rejected false teachers. They have endured hardship and have not grown weary. I think most of us would appreciate those words said about us. But, there is more. There’s something else that Jesus has to say to this church.
“I have something that I hold against you.” Things are not all well and good. In spite of their good works, their perseverance, and their doctrinal purity, Jesus has a problem with them. The problem is that they have forsaken their first love. They are told to look and see how far they have fallen. They have “moved on,” and have “matured” in their doctrine and everything else, but their love for their King has grown cold.
In Matthew 22, Jesus is asked what the greatest commandment in the Law is. His reply is in two parts. He states that the greatest commandment is to love God with all our heart, soul, strength, and mind. Then he says that the second commandment is like the first: Love our neighbor as we love ourselves. Jesus then goes on to say that the entire Law and Prophets hang on these two commandments. In other words, all of God’s commands boil down to two things. We are to love God and love others. To the extent we obey those two things, we obey every command God has for us.
I believe that the Church here in the West, especially in the United States, has left her first love. We used to proclaim the Gospel, and the result was awakenings which shaped the culture. Even though America has never been a “Christian nation,” it was a kingdom of this world that was, in part, influenced by the Church. Much has changed over the years.
Historians may disagree on the beginning of the decline of the Church in the United States. I believe that the present issues that we see are the result of the Church forgetting that we are part of the Kingdom of God. In the history of the American Church, there have been times when the spiritual climate has not been healthy. Hence the need for revival. In the last half of the 20th Century, many in the Church began to see themselves as agents of change in the political system and in the culture, rather than citizens of a greater kingdom. On both the right and the left, people began to equate electing certain people to public office and enacting certain legislation with following Jesus. This has continued into the current century.
When there are proclaimers of the gospel spending their time pushing a partisan agenda or stating that a certain candidate is going to “save America,” we have lost our first love. When we separate with fellow Christians because of the political or social views, we have lost our first love. When we proclaim that the Constitution is equal to Scripture by our words and action, we have left our first love. When we care more about our “freedom” than about loving and serving others, we have lost our first love. When we see Jesus’ commands in the Sermon on the Mount as something for a future time and not really for us today, we have lost our first love. When we tell people that all they have to do is say a prayer to be sure of a “home in heaven when they die” and neglect to teach them what it means to follow the King of Kings, we have lost our first love.
We need to regain our first love, the love for the King that causes us to take seriously his words about loving others as we love ourselves, about putting the interests of the Kingdom ahead of our own, and about dying to our own self interest. The stakes are high for those of us in the Church. In Revelation 2, Jesus tells the church that if they don’t repent and do the works which they did at first (the works done out of love for their Lord) he will remove them from their place. I believe the Church in America is in danger of being removed. Whether that will take the form of persecution and oppression or just a growing irrelevance, I don’t know. I do believe that the next chapter in the history of the Church in the West will be similar to the first century, as the culture becomes more and more like that of the Roman Empire. Our question may well be whether we will give our allegiance to the True King or to the empire.
May God bring us back to our first love.
Blast From the Past: Lent
The following is a repost of something I wrote in 2011, with some updates: Â Â
Today is the first day of Lent. Ash Wednesday is celebrated by Christians around the world with a service that includes the placing of ashes on the forehead of the worshippers. The ashes are to remind that we are made from dust, and to dust we will return. That is one part of the Lenten observance that I have not often participated in. In the tradition in which I grew up, Lent (like most of the church calendar) was not even on our radar. We celebrated Christmas, Palm Sunday, and Easter. I had a vague notion that other days were observed in other traditions, but we were taught that those days were not important.
As I approach the Lenten period, I am struck by the fact that our bodies are formed from the dust of the ground, and to that dust they will return. Because of the brokenness of Creation, we face the inevitable decay of our physical selves. Any middle-aged man who has tried to compete in sports at the same level he did when he was in his twenties can attest to that. At some point our bodies will wear out and no longer be useful to us. When they are then placed in the ground, they will return to the dust from which they came. As we look around us, we see that decay in every part of our world. Ash Wednesday and Lent are good reminders that we are broken and in need of a savior.
Thankfully, that is not the end of the story. During this time, we take a good hard look at our humanity and our brokenness, but we also look ahead to the time when our Savior will return and will restore Creation. We look forward to the resurrection and the Kingdom of God coming in all its fullness. When I think about Ash Wednesday, and the symbolism of the ashes on the forehead, I think of the song, “Beauty Will Rise.” In that song Steven Curtis Chapman sings,
“Out of these ashes… beauty will rise
and we will dance among the ruins
We will see Him with our own eyes
Out of these ashes…beauty will rise
For we know, joy is coming in the morning…
in the morning …This is our hope.
This is the promise.
That it would take our breath away
to see the beauty that’s been made
out of the ashes…”
As we go through this season of Lent, contemplating our sinfulness and our need of a redeemer, let us remember that we do have a Savior who has made us a new creation, and who will one day make all things new.
Update
Life continues to be interesting. While Jan and I were in California visting family, we both contracted Covid. Because we have had all our shots, it was relatively mild, although Jan had trouble with her asthma. We are both well, and life is returning to “normal.”
My radiation treatments for my prostate cancer have been postponed a bit because I have to have a colonoscopy first. It’s been ten years since my last one, so I’m due. The doctor wants me to have the colonoscopy first because the radiation might bother my colon some. The colonoscopy is scheduled for Valentine’s Day (how romantic!). I’m taking pills instead of drinking that nasty liquid, but the effects will be the same. After the procedure and the follow up, I will begin radiation, assuming the results are okay.
The doctor tells me that the radiation will be six to eight weeks, possibly closer to six. I am supposed to be able to pretty much continue with my daily activities, such as work. Hopefully that will be the case. Fortunately, I have a job that is fairly flexible. The outlook for the radiation to work is pretty good. As I wrote in a previous post, the survival rate for what I have is pretty much 100%. There will be some things that may change in my day-to-day, but it should be okay.
I’m learning more and more to trust the Father’s heart, and also realizing that so many of the things we worry about in our lives don’t really amount to much. The list of things that are important is beginning to shrink, and my focus is narrowing. It should be interesting to see how that shakes out in the future.
New Year: New Twists and Turns in the Road
2020 was a year that many would like to forget, and 2021 didn’t’ seem to be much better. As the Covid pandemic hit in March 2020, I was in the hospital with a minor heart attack. I recovered completely and made it through the rest of that year and most of 2021. Most, but not all.
First, a bit of background. My father had prostate cancer. Because of that, my family doctor has been keeping an eye on my PSA (Prostate Specific Antigen). In many areas of my life I am just like my father. Well, it turns out that this is one of them. My PSA levels went up to the point that my urologist wanted to have things checked out further. The first step was an MRI, which showed some small spots in one area.
Next came a biopsy, after a couple months wait, which seemed to me to indicate that the doctor was not overly concerned. The biopsy was performed in early December, and the day before my sixty sixth birthday, I was informed that I had joined the club. I was following my father’s footsteps and had prostate cancer. Happy birthday to me. The good news is that it is stage 2; which means it is confined to one certain area.
At the end of 2021, I underwent a bone scan and today I had a CT scan, along with a chest X-ray to check out a spot found on a rib. The spot may be from an old injury. I remember getting kicked in the ribs a few times playing soccer goalkeeper in high school and college. Hopefully that is the case. The CT scan looked good. The next step is to schedule radiation treatment beginning the third week of this month. This should last about two months or so.
I am learning a few things from this. First, I am learning to not take anything for granted, because you never know when things are going to change. I am also learning that good treatment in American healthcare is extremely expensive. Even with excellent insurance, the costs are still very high. I am learning how to empathize with those who have cancer. Hopefully I am learning to trust my heavenly Father and rest in his love for me.
The five year survival rate for this prostate cancer is pretty much 100%. After that, it’s a matter of keeping an eye on things, much like before. The outlook is good and my urologist is pretty positive, so I think I’m going to be okay. So we shall see how the road ahead goes and where this journey is going to take me this year.
Reminiscing
It was a warm Saturday morning in 2006. The night before, my father had asked me to go with him to Summerville to watch his grandson, my nephew play soccer. After a week of dealing with middle school students, I really wanted to stay home and relax. However, it had only been a little over a month since Mom had died. My dad needed to be able to do this, and he needed me to do the driving. I don’t remember much of the conversation during the trip, except for him telling me that his sister had just passed away and the funeral was that day.
We drove to the soccer field and settled in to watch the game. I think it was a good game. I really don’t remember. We only saw the first half. At halftime, my niece and I headed to the concession stand to get something to drink. Dad had mentioned that he was hot and thirsty. On the way back, we noticed that there was a crowd of people around someone on the sideline where we had been sitting. As we got closer, we realized that the people were crowded around my father, who was on the ground. He was having a heart attack. An ambulance quickly arrived and the EMTs began to try and revive him. After what seemed like an eternity, they put Dad in the ambulance and headed for the emergency room. My sister and I followed.
I don’t remember how long we waited. Everything was a blur. Finally we were informed that the doctors had done everything they could do, but that Dad had died of a heart attack. We were escorted to a room where he lay on a table, and I immediately lost it. I had lost my hero, and in one sense I was now an orphan. I felt a sense of guilt for not really wanting to drive him to the game, and some relief that I had gone and had been with him on his last day in this life. The next few days were a blur, as arrangements needed to be made with a funeral home where my sister lived, the church here where my parents had been members, and the funeral home and cemetery in Maryland, where Dad was to be buried.
All of the arrangements were completed, and we drove to Maryland for a small service in the funeral home, followed by the burial. It was a mild, sunny day, in contrast to the cold rain on the day Mom was laid to rest. At the end of the gravesite service, when the casket was lowered into the ground and the machine was shoveling the dirt into the grave, I remember that my sister and I both thought of Dad peering down from heaven, making sure that the workers did their job correctly.
It’s been fifteen years. Our two children, his grandchildren are married, and I know he would be proud of them. There are four great grandchildren now, and i can imagine the joy he would get out of spending time with them and teasing them with his corny jokes. I’m trying to carry on that tradition, but my efforts pale in comparison. I still miss him. I think about him a lot, especially when I bump my head. I am thankful that I will see both my mom and my dad in the New Creation.
After 20 Years
September 11, 2001. Some three thousand people awoke that morning, went about their routine, and headed off for their day. None of them had any idea that this day would be their last in this life. I was a teacher and athletic director in a small Christian school , and was in my office listening to the radio. A report broke in to the programming. Evidently, a plane had flown into one of the towers of the World Trade Center in New York City. At the time, no one knew if this was an accident, or deliberate. A short time later news came in of a second plane flying into the second tower. The word “attack” was being uttered. Then the third plane flew into the Pentagon and the unthinkable began to become very real. The United States was under attack. Shortly thereafter, we learned that a fourth plane had been hijacked and that the South Tower had collapsed. At the same time, plans were in motion to take down the fourth plane if it approached Washington, D.C. This proved to be unnecessary because some of the passengers on that flight attacked the hijackers, and the plane ended up crashing into a field in Pennsylvania. Shortly after the fourth plane crashed, the North Tower collapsed. While all this was happening, flights all over the country were grounded in an attempt to prevent future attacks.
I was in a state of shock, as was the nation. All of our might, our prosperity, our sense of safety, seemed to be an illusion. For many days there was concern that something else might happen. There was grief for those who had perished, and for those who had been left behind. There was also a determination to help those who had been injured, and those whose loved ones had been torn from them. In the days to come, the nation was unified as it had been in the last world war. It seemed that there was no longer division between groups or parties. We were all Americans. The nation had been shaken to its core, and as a result turned to God. It seemed as if America might come out of this stronger and better.
Twenty years have passed. I believe that, while we were stronger, better, and more unified at the beginning, America has let all of that slip away. We may be more divided now than at any time in our history. There are groups and individuals who believe, and proclaim that anyone who doesn’t believe the way they do is not a real American. The spirit of helping others and sacrificing for their good has been replaced with a spirit of me first, my rights, my desires. There are those that call for open rebellion, and some even call for a civil war. Some of these folks even call themselves followers of the Prince of Peace!
Many in the church have confused being a Christian with adhering to a particular political viewpoint. The idea of being a citizen of the kingdom of God is forgotten by many, or is pushed to something in the far-off future. Twenty years ago, America had a common enemy from the outside. Today, it seems that the common enemy is each other. If we continue to fight and seek to destroy that enemy, we will destroy ourselves. I hope we can wake up and look for the common ground that helped us through those days after 9/11/2001.
Fifteen Years Already?
It’s hard to believe that it has been fifteen years since my mom went to be with her Savior. Mom had suffered from Alzheimer’s Disease for a number of years. Eventually she reached the point where my dad could no longer take care of her at home, no matter how much he tried. After a short stay in the hospital, Mom was admitted to a local nursing home to live out her final days. It was hard on all of us, but it was especially hard on Dad, who I believe thought that he had failed as a husband. Within a few months, Mom slipped away and we said goodbye.
As it often happens with a disease like Alzheimer’s, there was both sadness and a sense of relief. By the end, Mom didn’t know anyone or anything that was going on. She had gone from the sweetest person anyone could know, to someone else entirely. As her mind slipped away, negative things from her childhood came back to life. We knew that the one we were interacting with was not the wife and mother we knew and loved, so when she died we were relieved that her suffering was over and she was made whole.
I remember the funeral back in Maryland. It was a rainy day, and the song “I Will Praise You in the Storm” came on the radio. While bringing a fresh toreent of tears, the song also brought comfort. I knew that I could praise God in the midst of the physical storm and the emotional storm because the loved me and he loved Mom. She was now resting in his presence and one day all of the tears would be wiped away.
Over the years, the pain has lessened. That is only natural. I still remember all of the good times with a wonder, loving mom who would gladly have given herself up for her children. While I do remember the last couple of years of her life and the struggle it was, I can look back on it thankful that the Father carried me through that with the same loving arms with which he carried Mom home.
I believe that I will see my mom someday, and we will never have to part in tears again.