Archives For Funeral Meditation

Fran & FelicityPsalm 46: God is our refuge and strength, A very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth be removed, And though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea; Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, Though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof. There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, The holy place of the tabernacles of the most High. God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved: God shall help her, and that right early. The heathen raged, the kingdoms were moved: He uttered his voice, the earth melted. The Lord of hosts is with us; The God of Jacob is our refuge. Come, behold the works of the Lord, What desolations he hath made in the earth. He maketh wars to cease unto the end of the earth; He breaketh the bow, and cutteth the spear in sunder; He burneth the chariot in the fire. Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth. The Lord of hosts is with us; The God of Jacob is our refuge.

I read this Psalm to Fran as she lay dying in Good Samaritan this last Sunday afternoon. The last time I actually spoke with her was at Gritman a few days before that, and she was pretty worried and she asked me to pray for her. I read some scripture to her then, and I did pray for her. But following that conversation, as I continued to think about her and pray for her, this Psalm kept coming to mind which is why I read it to her this last Sunday as she slept.

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” The Psalm describes an enormous storm, a tsunami, a hurricane, with rock slides, earthquakes, the whole world coming apart, shaking violently, nothing holding together.

And in the face of that calamity, that upheaval, the psalmist sings: “There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the most High. God is in the midst of her, and she shall not be moved.” God is in the midst of her, and she shall not be moved. How is that possible? How is it possible not to be moved in the middle of a storm? How is it possible not to be moved in the middle of an earthquake? How is possible not to be moved when a hurricane bears down on your life? Continue Reading…

Since a few folks have asked for a copy, here’s the prayer I offered at Mike Rench’s memorial service this last Friday:

Christ is Risen from the dead, trampling over death by death. O Death, where is your sting! O Hell, where is your victory! But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!

Our Gracious God and Father, Creator of the Universe, sustainer of all things, Lord and Giver of all life: you are all good. You are all gracious. You are all wonderful.

We are gathered here this day to worship you, to bless your name, to lift high the cross of Jesus over the grave of our dear brother Michael Eugene Rench. We do not lift a cross as some kind of sentimental ritual, some sort of traditional way of marking the dead. No, we lift the cross over our brother in triumph. We lift the cross up as the sign of our victory in our Lord Jesus. We lift up the cross as a sign to the world that death has not won, and we trample death beneath our feet.

And so Father, we call out to you, in the name of the One who overcame death, in the name of the One who went down into death and has disarmed it. We call out to you in the name of Jesus, the Lord of Life and the Lord of the Grave, in the Name of Him who holds the keys of death and hades in his hand. Continue Reading…

Great thoughts on the passing of Christopher Hitchens from Doug Wilson:

Christopher knew that faithful Christians believe that it is appointed to man once to die, and after that the Judgment. He knew that we believe what Jesus taught about the reality of damnation. He also knew that we believe—for I told him—that in this life, the door of repentance is always open. A wise Puritan once noted what we learn from the last-minute conversion of the thief on the cross—one, that no one might despair, but only one, that no one might presume. We have no indication that Christopher ever called on the Lord before he died, and if he did not, then Scriptures plainly teach that he is lost forever. But we do have every indication that Christ died for sinners, men and women just like Christopher. We know that the Lord has more than once hired workers for his vineyard when the sun was almost down (Matt. 20:6).

We also know that Christopher was worried about this, and was afraid of letting down the infidel team. In a number of interviews during the course of his cancer treatments, he discussed the prospect of a “death bed” conversion, and it was clear that he was concerned about the prospect. But, he assured interviewers, if anything like that ever happened, we should all be certain that the cancer or the chemo orsomething had gotten to his brain. If he confessed faith, then he, the Christopher Hitchens that we all knew, should be counted as already dead. In short, he was preparing a narrative for us, just in case. But it is interesting that the narrative he prepped us with did not involve some ethically challenged evangelical nurses on the late shift who were ready to claim that they had heard him cry out to God, thus misrepresenting another great infidel into heaven. It has been done with Einstein, and with Darwin. Why not Hitchens? But Christopher actually prepared us by saying that if he said anything like this, then he did not know what he was saying.

Read the whole thing here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peter Hitchens writes of his brother, Christopher Hitchen’s death:

Two pieces of verse come to mind, one from Hilaire Belloc’s ’Dedicatory Ode’

‘From quiet homes and first beginnings, out to the undiscovered ends, there’s nothing worth the wear of winning but laughter and the love of friends’

I have always found this passage unexpectedly moving because of something that lies beneath the words, good and largely true though they are. When I hear it, I see in my mind’s eye a narrow, half-lit entrance hall with a slowly-ticking clock in it, and a half-open door beyond which somebody is waiting for news of a child who long ago left home.

And T.S.Eliot’s ‘Little Gidding’ (one of the Four Quartets)

‘We shall not cease from exploration

And the end of all our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started

And know the place for the first time’

These words I love because I have found them to be increasingly and powerfully true. In my beginning, as Eliot wrote elsewhere in the Quartets, is my end. Alpha et Omega.

Read the rest here.

 

We live in a broken world, a world full of separations and dislocations. There are hurts and pains, betrayals and wounds, and sickness and dying. We lose our parents and grandparents, we lose children, brothers, sisters, spouses, aunts, and uncles. Sometimes we lose them even before they are gone.

In the beginning, when God created people, he said it was not good for man to be alone. And we frequently take that to mean that bachelors are just a bad idea, which they are. But it also means that it’s just not good for people to be alone, and that’s actually a theme that carries through the entire Bible. God gave Eve to Adam and then blessed them and promised them children. God blessed Noah and his family after the flood and again promised children. God called Abram out from his home to another land when he was an old man, and then promised him children, promised to make him a great nation. It is not good for man to be alone.

That tiny family became a great nation in Egypt, and under Moses’ leadership they went free and began their pilgrimage to the land of Canaan. Many years later, Solomon writes, “Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their labor. For if they fall, one will lift up his companion. But woe to him who is alone when he falls, for he has no one to help him up. Again, if two lie down together, they will keep warm; but how can one be warm alone? Though one may be overpowered by another, two can withstand him. And a threefold cord is not quickly broken” (Eccl. 4:9-12). It is not good for man to be alone. Continue Reading…

Father Richard John Neuhaus passed away today. There’s a great essay by him posted here on the First Things site.

The words from 2 Corinthians come from a letter, one of several, where St. Paul is defending himself to Christians who were converted under his preaching but who now have various doubts, concerns, and questions. While the specific questions and concerns that Paul faced leading up to the writing of 2 Corinthians are no doubt different than the situation we face today, there is an important parallel.

Faithful ministers ought to frequently find it necessary to defend themselves. And this is because Christian ministers are called to declare good news in the face of a world full of bad news. Pastors and ministers are tasked to tell people what Isaiah foretold has begun to come to pass. The one upon who the Spirit rested has come. He did preach good news, he did free the captives, he did bring healing and restoration to the world. And we must solemnly read and proclaim that Jesus is the resurrection and the life and anyone who believes in him will never die.

And then people die. Children get sick and die. Diseases and deformities and disorders wreak their havoc on the bodies of men, women, and children, and the question that ought to occur to us once in a while is, how is this possible? How can it be that in a world where Jesus has come to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord that we have so many who are slaves to wheel chairs and oxygen tanks? How is it possible that Jesus has come to heal the brokenhearted, to comfort those who mourn, and yet we are pummeled by heartache and hardship? And we really only have two options. We either turn the gospel into a fairytale, we moralize it, and we gently wave it away as a nice idea, a symbol of human hope; or the only other option is to turn on the people who keep saying this stuff. If we take these words seriously, if we take the gospel seriously, then Christian ministers should have a lot of answering to do.

Paul was a missionary who went from town to town convincing people of the gospel, and as life went on, as people suffered from sickness and persecution and death, they had questions for Paul. Wait who are you again? Can we see some proof of your apostleship? How do we know you’re really from God? Are you just trying to make a buck? Are you on some kind of power trip? Are you after glory and fame? And Paul has to respond to these questions and ultimately defend how he can keep preaching the gospel in spite of all appearances. How can he preach that the resurrection of Jesus has changed human history in the face of the way human history seems to be going?

And really every Christian has to do deal with these questions too. If you say you believe this gospel, someone ought to ask that simple question why? Cause it makes you feel good? Well there are all kinds of other options out there for that. Because it makes sense? What about all this death? What about wars? What about tragedy? What about disease and natural disasters? It should not be too difficult to identify with Paul’s need to defend himself.

And this is why earlier in 2 Corinthians Paul says that ministers (and really all Christians) are the aroma of life leading to life for those being saved, and they are the aroma of death leading to death for those who are perishing (2:15-16). Either this gospel is profoundly true and can answer these questions and it is the aroma of life or it’s a pack of lies and deception, piling on with more death and tragedy.

And Paul realizes this, and sets out to answer the questions, the doubts, the frustrations of the Corinthians. And to their request for some references for his apostleship, he says he doesn’t need a letter of commendation because the Corinthians are his letter, his epistle written by the Spirit of God (3:1-3). Paul turns the question around and says that the Corinthian church is proof that his gospel was authentic and true and without a doubt. The suffering, doubting, questioning church is Paul’s proof, his qualification for ministry.

Paul goes on to explain that the Old Covenant under Moses was in the form of letters and a ministry of death, and its glory was rendered ineffective as illustrated by Moses’ veil. Moses covered his face so that the people could not see the glory radiating off his face. But Paul says that the Spirit gives life, and the Spirit is a ministry of righteousness. He says that the glory of the Spirit is greater because we all with unveiled face behold the glory of the Lord as in a mirror. And through that glory, we are being transformed into the same image of Jesus Christ, from glory to glory (3:7ff). And Paul says that this light of the gospel of Christ, this image of God, this glory shines through preaching (4:3-4).

When Jesus is preached, the face of Jesus shines the glory of God into the darkness of human life (4:6). And this treasure is in earthen vessels so that we might carry around the life of Jesus in our bodies for one another (e.g. the apostles are doing this for the Corinthians) (4:12).

And this is where Paul says that this is why we don’t lose hope. We don’t lose hope because these afflictions are working in us “a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” What is that weight of glory? Paul says it’s the Spirit working the life of Jesus into our bodies.

And then Paul starts talking about houses: earthly houses compared to eternal houses not made with hands. Then he changes the metaphor and starts talking about clothes and being clothed. Paul starts talking about resurrection, the need for our bodies to be renewed. Paul says that we groan in these bodies looking forward to new ones. These ones are weak, mortal, and breakable. They die, and we need new ones.

And that’s the point. The fact that we live and experience constantly the need for new bodies is Paul’s proof that his ministry is valid, that the gospel is true. If we didn’t need resurrection then why would we need Jesus? Even in perfection there is glory that yields itself to further glory. Even God goes from glory to glory. And so must we.

The point seems to be this: When the gospel is declared and believed, God makes light shine into our situations, our circumstances, and we catch glimpses of Christ. And the mind blowing thing is that Paul says by the power of the Spirit, it’s actually like looking into a mirror and somehow seeing glory in our own faces. It’s the life of Jesus being manifested in our bodies through the working of the Spirit. And Paul says we have this treasure, the glory of Jesus, in earthen vessels. In our questions, in our doubts, in our heartache, the gospel comes to us and says this is why Jesus came, this is why Jesus was mocked, this is why Jesus suffered, this is why Jesus died. And in our weakness, in our suffering, and even in our death, we find the life of Jesus being worked out in us. And we come to know the need for Jesus, we taste the suffering, and the death, and we look for the resurrection. We groan with Jesus for new bodies, for new glory, for resurrection.

This is how God manifests his glory in us: by making us partakers of his glory, by making us partakers of the life of Jesus. He gives us the same Spirit who led Jesus into trial, into challenges, into Gethsemane, and finally into Jerusalem where he was crucified. We have been given that Spirit, and therefore the proof of the gospel is in us. When we know that we need deliverance. When we know that we need resurrection, then we know that we have the Spirit working the life of Jesus into us, and we can be fully assured that the end of his story will be the end our ours. His death yielded resurrection and glory. And there can be no doubt that our lives and the lives of all who trust in Him will result in the same. And so we do not lost hope, but we see this glory, this eternal weight of glory, hid in earthen vessels, awaiting the resurrection of the body. This is our garment of praise for our spirit of heaviness.

In the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Amen!