life
A Chance Meeting With My Sister
By Linda Rex
I was waiting in line at the post office the other day, waiting to pick up a letter I needed to sign for. The postal employee who was helping the people at the kiosks asked if anyone in line was picking up a package. I waved my little form in hopes he would help me out.
It was at this point I realized the lady behind me had waved her card too. But he told me to come first and then indicated that he would help her next. Behind me I heard her make some rather loud remarks about “rednecks”—apparently the lady was upset because he didn’t help her first.
As we moved over to the gentleman who was helping us, he asked if we were sisters. Before I could answer, the lady began a diatribe about how she was from Bristol, England, and she had lived in five states and hated Tennessee the most. She began to deride the people of Tennessee in a loud voice. I just tried to keep a friendly, calm demeanor, smiling at her when she looked at me. I wasn’t sure how to respond since she was clearly upset. The wise postal employee made himself scarce, and everyone in the line did their best to ignore the rude comments.
An older gentleman, when he finished at the counter, paused next to the lady and told her in a kind but firm voice that he took offense at her insults of the fine people of Tennessee. She grabbed her bag and scurried away around me, trying to avoid him. She repeated her criticisms, and his parting words to her as he left were in essence, “If you don’t like it here in Tennessee, you should leave.” To this she replied, “If I could afford to, I would.”
She and I returned to our waiting positions, and that inner voice we don’t always want to listen to said to me, “You know, she is your sister—in Christ.” I felt like I wanted to say something to her about this but the words stuck in my throat.
At this point the postal employee called the lady over for her letter and apologized to her for the wait. She grabbed her letter and left with whatever dignity she could muster. She was still clearly upset.
“I’m sorry,” he said to me. “I thought you two were related. You looked like you were sisters.”
“No,” I replied. “I don’t know her. I’ve never met her before.”
I signed for the letter from the funeral home, and left. As I stepped out of the rear door of the post office, I looked across the parking lot. She was sitting in her car and she was crying. The irony which struck me at that moment was that this woman who was so rude to me and to everyone else, was the same woman who I had let go first when it was clearly my right-of-way into the post office driveway.
In spite of all she had said and done, my heart went out to her. She was clearly in distress, but my presence and knowledge of that fact seemed to only be making things worse.
I left, but that whole conversation stuck in my mind. I joked about it later, telling people that I was finally a real Tennessean now—a true redneck apparently. But what kept echoing in my mind were those phrases: “She is your sister—in Christ”, and “I don’t know her.”
Later on as I pondered this experience I thought of those three conversations that Peter had when Jesus was on trial. Three times he denied Christ—“I don’t even know the man,” he said. This one, Jesus, who said Peter was his brother and his friend, Peter refused even to acknowledge.
Jesus said that when we welcome another person in love and compassion, we are welcoming him. To call this lady my sister was to acknowledge Jesus Christ and all he has done and is doing to bind all humanity to himself in his human flesh through his life, death, resurrection and ascension. She is as Christ is to me—bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh—we are one in Jesus Christ.
To deny that relationship in essence is to deny Christ. To reject her or to refuse to have compassion on her in her need is to close my heart to the Spirit’s call to love her with the love of the Father for his Son.
This was just an everyday happening in my life. Nothing to get too excited about or beat myself up about. But through the lens of eternity, it can be seen in an entirely new way.
Here, in view of the kingdom of God, is a fellow citizen—someone who may or may not know that their place of birth is in the Son—a birthplace they share with all humanity. As a sister to this person, I have the opportunity—no, the challenge—to acquaint her with the truth about her beginnings, her real family, the place where she truly belongs. Why should I be silent about so great a thing?
This is the good news we share. We are all one in Christ Jesus—God has claimed us as his own in spite of our brokenness and sin. He has said that he would not be God without us—and he made sure of that by giving us himself in the Son and in the Spirit. Each person we meet is truly and completely loved by God and forgiven whether they deserve it or not—and most of the time, if they are like me, they don’t deserve it.
More and more God is leading me to pray a simple prayer as I go about my daily life asking God to show me what he has for me to do or say in each moment. As my friend Steve calls them—I ask God for “spiritual conversations”. I ask God to set me up and to give me the words to say and the courage and wisdom to say them in the right time and in the right way.
Our confession of Christ is in our common humanity that we share with him and with one another. We cannot and must not stand aloof from one another, even though there may be a fear in our hearts that the person we are helping may harm or hurt us. We can be wise and have healthy boundaries with people, but at the same time God calls us to tear down our barriers and to truly love one another from the heart in the same way he loves us through his Son Jesus Christ. May we be faithful in so doing.
Holy Father, thank you for not rejecting us but rather calling us your very own. Thank you, Jesus, that you call us your brothers and sisters, and your friends. Thank you, Holy Spirit, for being our Paraclete—the One who comes alongside us to share in every sorrow, joy, struggle and celebration. Thank you, God, that you are faithful and true, and you have made us all to be one with you and each other, and to live together forever in love. Through Jesus and in your Spirit we pray. Amen.
“Therefore everyone who confesses Me before men, I will also confess him before My Father who is in heaven. But whoever denies Me before men, I will also deny him before My Father who is in heaven.” Matthew 10:32–33 NASB
“Then the King will say to those on His right, ‘Come, you who are blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in; naked, and you clothed Me; I was sick, and you visited Me; I was in prison, and you came to Me.’ Then the righteous will answer Him, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry, and feed You, or thirsty, and give You something to drink? And when did we see You a stranger, and invite You in, or naked, and clothe You? When did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?’ The King will answer and say to them, ‘Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.’” Matthew 25:34–40 NASB
Hanging on to Stuff
by Linda Rex
One of the most difficult tasks that come with a loved one dying can be going through their belongings and dealing with the things they leave behind. This can be extremely difficult, especially when so many memories arise with each item we handle.
It’s amazing how much a person or a family can collect over the years! Sometimes it’s just the things of daily living, or the important papers or documents. But then again, it may be stuff—things that were useful at one time, but no longer have any use or value.
The memories and feelings that are attached with such items can have more pull on us than we realize. We may hang on to these things because of the fear if we let go of them we will lose everything we associate with those items. Sometimes the loss of something dear when we were young causes us to hang on to similar things when we are older, even though we really don’t have any use for these items.
I remember one time many years ago when I was still married, my husband was doing tree cutting as a way to help with our income since he was out of work. We were called by a man who lived in a quiet cul-de-sac in our small town, so we went to cut his tree. While my husband was up in the tree and I was spotting and praying he wouldn’t fall, the man whose tree he was cutting and his neighbor struck up a conversation. Since they were standing right next to me, I really couldn’t ignore what they were saying.
They got to talking about what they owned and what each other had. Early on it became a contest as to who had the most and best of whatever it was they had. The irony was that nearly everything they named, my husband and I couldn’t afford to own. I guess I could have been insulted, but instead I felt sorry for them. They felt having the best and most of these things was what was necessary to their self-worth and self-esteem, and what was necessary for their happiness.
This came to mind the other night when at our small group we were talking about a famous man who hid all his money in the mantel in his house. By the time it was found after his death, it was moth-eaten and useless. To me that is a good example of the transience of human wealth and property. In our affluent society, so often we don’t know the difference between what we want and what we need.
And sadly, as I have learned over the years, all such things are useless in the face of death and dying. When a person dies, they leave all these things behind. And then who gets them? The answer to that question has divided and destroyed many a family and relationship.
And I think that is what is crucial in this whole discussion. When it comes to the things we own, or the things we hang on to, how do they impact our relationships and the people we love? How do they impact our community and our neighbor?
Many wealthy people are wise enough not to give their children everything they want or to give them large sums of money when they are young. They realize how destructive affluence can be to a person’s character and well-being. When a person understands that money is a tool that can be used for good and that with wealth and abundance comes responsibility and duty to one’s fellow man, then wealth is not such a dangerous thing to have.
But that is a different discussion. Here we are considering the reality that someday the person who is wealthy will have to pass that wealth on to someone else. Everything we own in this life cannot be carried with us into the next. We cannot fill a pyramid with food, luxuries and people to bring with us into the life to come. It doesn’t work that way.
Through all this sorting, I’m being reminded again to narrow down my belongings and my activities to what is really essential and useful for this moment. This is the spiritual discipline of simplicity. Some things are just not important in the grand scheme of things, while others are worthy of our focused attention and devotion. May God grant us the grace to discern the difference and to choose only what is most important. And may he enable us to let go of all the rest.
Lord, we thank you for the abundance with which we live day by day. Thank you for providing us with so many wonderful things, but most especially for the people you bring into our lives—our neighbors, our friends, and our families. You shower your love on us daily. Grant us the grace to see it and always be grateful and generous with what you give us. Through Jesus and by your Spirit, we pray. Amen.
“There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven—A time to give birth and a time to die; …” Ecclesiastes 3:1–2 NASB
“And He told them a parable, saying, ‘The land of a rich man was very productive. And he began reasoning to himself, saying, “What shall I do, since I have no place to store my crops?” Then he said, “This is what I will do: I will tear down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have many goods laid up for many years to come; take your ease, eat, drink and be merry.’ “ But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your soul is required of you; and now who will own what you have prepared?’ So is the man who stores up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God.” Luke 12:16–21 NASB
Tomorrow Still Comes
By Linda Rex
This morning my pastor friend Carrie and I were driving up I-65 as the sun was coming up. As the sky turned glorious colors of gold, orange and blue streaked with purple and gray clouds, I felt God’s presence and peace in the wonder of a new day dawning.
I thought about the conversations I had had recently with Mom when we talked about what it would be like to live in the new world God has for us beyond death. We talked about how Mom would be able to garden to her heart’s content and not have to worry about the weather and the weeds.
For me, saying goodbye to her these past few days was so much like saying, “See you in the morning!” There is the momentary sense of the loss of immediate companionship. But then there is this delightful sense of expectancy, as the mind and heart begin to look forward to a renewal of the relationship and the opportunity to spend more time together doing things we love.
There is an assurance of a future time when we will share sweet companionship together again. This is what the apostle Paul meant when he said that we do not grieve as those who have no hope. Indeed, we have a great hope through Jesus Christ. He has purchased eternity for us, establishing a new humanity through his life, death, resurrection and ascension.
But what about the loss? Doesn’t it hurt?
Yes, actually it does. And how much it hurts and how we deal with that hurt is unique to each of us. For we each grieve our losses and experience our relationships in our own particular ways. Grief is not a one-size-fits-all process.
And how our losses occur and what those losses actually are in our lives is specific to each person in each situation. That means that for some people grieving a significant loss may be a simple and easy process, where others may grieve in a very complex and difficult way because of grief over unresolved losses in the past, or because of complications in the relationship in the past. To compare oneself to another person in how we are affected by our losses is not a wise thing to do.
Sometimes complications in our lives hinder the grieving process. There may be difficult circumstances surrounding our loss of a dear one that may prevent us from being able to deal with our feelings about the loss right away. It may be much later—days or weeks or even years—before we are able to come to the place where we can face the truth of the pain and begin to allow ourselves to feel it, grieve our loss and begin to heal.
As friends and families of those who have experienced a great loss, it is important for us not to be afraid to engage the suffering one in a healthy relationship of comfort, compassion and companionship. What a person who is grieving needs is not instruction, criticism or indifference. The one who has suffered a loss needs to know that they are loved, and that others are sharing in their grief and loss with them. It is important to come alongside them and to offer them our love and support, even if it means just sitting silently with them in the midst of their pain.
I have been very blessed to have family and friends join me and my children in the midst of our loss. I am grateful God brought my mother and me back together after life had taken us away from each other. He redeemed the difficult situations in our home and now I have happy memories to carry with me until I see Mom again. There is much reason for gratitude in the midst of this loss.
So rather than having a great sorrow about losing Mom, right now I am feeling comfort and peace. Perhaps that will change later when life slows down and I can truly grieve the loss of the mother who invested so much in my life. Meanwhile I am looking forward to that new morning when the sky will be even more glorious than anything I saw today. May it come soon!
Heavenly Dad, I am grateful that we are not alone in the midst of our losses, but we have you and each other to carry us through. Thank you that in the Spirit, you and Jesus join with us in our suffering, offering us comfort, peace and hope. Lord, lift us up. Enable us to find and live out the new life you have in mind for us as we let go of the past and our loved ones, and move on into the future. Through Jesus and by your Spirit we pray. Amen.
“For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ all will be made alive.” 1 Corinthians 15:22 NASB
Saying Goodbye
by Linda Rex
There are two final goodbyes that are on my mind this morning. They are completely different one from one another, and yet they are in many ways one and the same. Saying goodbye for the last time to two people who played such an integral part in forming me as a person has truly stretched me and forced me to rethink many things about what really matters in life.
Etched in my mind is the day when I received a frantic phone call at work from my mom that my dad had collapsed outside at home while trying to meet the UPS delivery man to receive a package. An ordinary snowy day turned into a crisis at the hospital with Mom and I watching as the emergency room personnel frantically tried to shock my dad’s heart back to life. When it became obvious that their efforts were fruitless, we saw the life ebb from his body as Dad passed from this life to the next.
Night before last as I sat with my Mom, holding her hand and watching her taking her last breaths, I thought about how different these scenarios were. Dad had passed so quickly, not making any effort to hang on to life but rather having life pass from him so rapidly that it could not be clung to. But here Mom was sucking in each breath as though it was an elixir. Her life did not pass away without a difficult struggle.
But in each case there came a time when there was just no life left in the human body. My parents exited this life and went on into the next. What their life looks like now, I’m not totally sure. I just know that the life they have now is much better than what they had here on earth.
A little while ago I wandered into the room where Mom spent her last moments. In my mind’s eye, I could still see her lying in the hospital bed and I felt again the hush that came with trying to keep the house quiet so she could rest in peace. Even though she is gone, I still feel her presence here with me.
Is it mystical to believe that somehow she and I are still connected? That Dad is somehow still a part of my life today?
I cannot grieve with deep, wrenching sorrow because I have such a comfort in knowing they aren’t gone forever but are still living, each held in Christ’s love for all eternity. Jesus, in taking on our humanity, has connected us all in himself, holding fast to each of us in himself in such a way that we do not fade back into nothingness when we die, but rather transition into a new life he created for us when he rose from the dead so many millenia ago.
So even though I feel the separation and miss the daily conversations, I have such peace in knowing they are so much better off now without the restraints of this temporary existence. There was so much about this life and this culture that grieved them—they longed for the day when Christ would come and deliver them from this evil world. And now they are free from it all. How can I wish they were back here with me?
Even though in those last moments it seemed as though all of heaven and earth paused and held its breath, time moved on and my parents are no longer with me. The sun still came up in the morning and went down at night as the earth rotated on its axis. The universe doesn’t cease to continue on its path when someone passes on.
I’d like to hold on to my loved ones, but I can’t stay here in this place forever. Now decisions need to be made—where do we go on from here? How do we move on? I know that my parents would not want us to stay stuck here in our grief, but to take instead the next meaningful steps in our lives. What’s that going to look like? I don’t know. But I face the future with some anticipation and with a hint of sorrow on the side.
I just know that after all we’ve been through in caring for Mom in her last days and in saying goodbye to her and Dad, I will never be the same again. Everything they ever said and did is somehow a part of who I am today. And as I go through life, it will continue to influence my choices and decisions as I participate in their humanity through my memories of them, and the genetics and personality that we have in common.
The apostle Paul wrote that we do not grieve as those who have no hope because we know that death is not the end. We will see our loved ones again.
And it is also true that we share in a real way through Christ in their life even now. We have been bound together with them in so many ways. Death cannot and does not separate us from one another.
For me, saying goodbye in this transition from life into death is more like saying, “I’ll see you in the morning.” There is a new morning where we will see each other again. So rather than there being an end to our relationship, there is an anticipation and expectancy of seeing each other and sharing life in a new way in a new place. And that is something to look forward to rather than looking backward with regret.
So in saying goodbye to my parents, I am sad, yes. I miss them both terribly. But I want to focus on the time when I will see them again. And I want to experience the comfort and real presence of having them with me now through Jesus and our connection in the Spirit. In this way by God’s grace I can find peace in the midst of great loss. And I thank God for making this possible in Jesus and by his Spirit.
Thank you, Heavenly Father, that in the midst of loss and grief we still have hope. Thank you for connecting us to one another and with you through your Son Jesus Christ and in the Spirit so that when we experience death we can know that there is still a day ahead of us when we can be with our loved ones again. You are so compassionate and understanding! We praise and thank you in Jesus. Amen.
“But we do not want you to be uninformed, brethren, about those who are asleep, so that you will not grieve as do the rest who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 4:13–14 NA
Clinging to Life
By Linda Rex
On top of the two wardrobes opposite my mom’s bed are a group of family pictures. Periodically my mom will lie quietly and gaze at the portraits of the people who are dearest to her. After a while she may remark on how well my dad looked that day in his dark gray suit. And she will ask again whether I have everything ready for when she goes.
All the complications of life have been sifted through and brought down into the simplicity of breathing in and breathing out, of eating and sleeping. There isn’t much to say or do any more that hasn’t already been considered and tossed out as being unimportant or unnecessary to her present existence.
Through her eyes I can see that when it comes down to it, there isn’t anything that really is of earth-shattering importance now when life is down to the basics.
With the little energy that she has left, my mother struggles to make another phone call. Calling her sister to say some last words to her is of paramount importance. She tries to talk to the few people she has left in her life. And cherishes the last moments she has with her family members.
Isn’t it interesting that what matters most to her now is her relationships? It made me think about how often in our lives we give ourselves over to pursuing some dream while our important relationships end up in shambles. We take our spouses for granted and neglect our children because we are caught up in the daily grind of working out the plan of our lives. We forget how transient these opportunities to share God’s love are until one day they are taken from us.
It is good to cling to life, but I’m beginning to ask myself, what is the life I’m clinging to? And what am I doing to seek out that life?
When Jesus prayed to his Father that last night before his death, he said that eternal life was intricately bound up in our knowing of God and of his Son Jesus Christ. He had earlier told his disciples that life comes through our partaking of the body and blood of Christ. There is something very central in Jesus Christ that is integral to our finding and living out true, lasting life.
It’s in the midst of our union with God in Christ that we find life that is meaningful and lasting. In sending his Spirit to us, Christ shared with us his very life and being. We are reminded of this reality when we share with one another during communion in our Eucharistic thanksgiving as we eat the bread and drink the fruit of the vine.
In Christ we are brought near to God and near to one another. There is a connection that goes deeper than even our connections by blood or by community or organization. This union is something than can never be severed, however much we may ignore, deny or neglect it.
It is worthwhile, I am seeing, to pause in the midst of our daily experiences to reflect on how all of us are joined together with God and one another in Christ and by the Holy Spirit. When we make the effort to do this, we may begin to see that some things just don’t really matter in the long run. And we may begin to value the people God has placed in our lives in new ways.
The apostle Paul stressed the importance of setting our minds and hearts on things above rather than on things on the earth. We can focus on temporary belongings and activities that in the end will come to nothing. We can value importance, power, money, and a million other things that will not follow us beyond death. Preoccupied with all this, we can miss the very things that give life its depth and meaning, and that will last on into eternity.
As another day draws to a close, I am comforted by the thought that even though there are a lot of things in my life I would like to have and don’t, I have a lot of the things that really matter. And for that reason, I find that my best response is simply gratitude. And that’s enough.
We thank and praise you God for life, breath and our human existence, but most especially for all the relationships you have placed in our lives in which we share your love with one another. Grant us the grace to appreciate and cherish them while we can, through Jesus and by your Spirit. Amen.
“Jesus spoke these things; and lifting up His eyes to heaven, He said, “Father, the hour has come; glorify Your Son, that the Son may glorify You, even as You gave Him authority over all flesh, that to all whom You have given Him, He may give eternal life. This is eternal life, that they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent.” John 17:1–3 NASB
“So Jesus said to them, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in yourselves. He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.’” John 6:53–54 NASB
Savoring the Moments
By Linda Rex
A late night, early morning and little sleep is par for the course lately. Anxious questions and urgent concerns that have already been addressed and readdressed try my patience. A prayer wafts from my heart that I will have the grace to cherish the moments rather than ruin them with self-pity or frustration.
Another concern is raised. What can I answer other than the truth—we don’t know the day or the hour. We just know that the end is near. You will be going home to Jesus and I will be staying.
Out of my mouth, the Spirit speaks the words of comfort: “Mom, this is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.” She nods with a smile and says, “Yes, we will.”
After a while it is time to take the dog out back, so I wander out, my bare feet in the cold, wet grass. I feel for a moment as though I’m walking in the Garden of Eden, with the presence of God near me, offering me his comfort and peace. I hear the echo in my mind and heart of the Spirit’s word, “This is the day the Lord has made…” and I feel a sense of gratitude for God’s comfort and encouragement.
Sitting again at her side, we talk about life and death, family and the things that really matter. We make sure there’s no unfinished business between us. These are precious moments—sacred moments, really. I choose to drink them in rather than just let them pass me by.
After an hour or so I go to my room to take care of something and pause to read today’s devotion out of a book on my desk. I smile as I read the familiar words: “This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.” I think I know what God’s word is for me today.
Thank you, Lord, for another moment and another day with the people who mean the most to us. Thank you for the relationships you have given us in which we know others and they know us. We are especially grateful that you know us down to the core of our beings and have brought us to this place of knowing you. There is an indescribable joy in this knowing and being known. We anticipate the time our time in eternity with you through Jesus our Lord. Amen.
“This is the day which the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalm 118:24 NASB
When Rest is Hard to Find
By Linda Rex
The house is quiet tonight. All I hear at the moment is the sound of the concentrator as it pulls oxygen out of the air and pumps it through the line into my mother’s lungs. She’s been sleeping for hours now, and I’ve been unable to coax her to eat anything since lunchtime yesterday. Although I am sad about all that’s going on, I am happy that I can be here for her. Right now, being by her side is more important to me than the sleep I sorely need.
How I wish that rest were so easy for me at this moment! It would certainly help me to feel better, and to have more energy when I get up in the morning. But it doesn’t look like sleep is going to happen any time soon.
I read a devotional yesterday that spoke about rest as being a way in which we worship God. Now that is a spiritual discipline I could really get into at the moment—a true, deep rest would be really nice.
But such a rest isn’t going to happen unless and until I am ready to fully let go of all my concerns and give them all up to my heavenly Father. There is a rest that is mine that I have in Jesus, but I can’t participate in it until I’m willing to let go of my insistence upon handling everything myself. God calls each of us to take Christ’s yoke on and to learn from him—this is how we find rest.
Even in the midst of heavy, weighty issues in our life, we can feel light-hearted and at peace when we are fully trusting in the love and faithfulness of the Father, and are turning to Jesus Christ for all we need. Somehow, through his Spirit and by his living Son Jesus, God gives us the ability to weather catastrophes and griefs, and to come out the better for having experienced them.
It is this redemption I am counting on. I do not understand the why or how, but I know that God does. All he asks of me is to trust him and to rely on him in the midst of this journey through the dark valley. And I don’t do that alone—Jesus is present with me, in me and is for me as I go through it all. He is my peace.
And the other blessing that comes with this struggle is the nearness of others who are helping to carry the weight with me. The peace and rest that I find in dark times is often best experienced in the midst of loving, caring relationships with others who pray for me and lift me up even when I don’t ask them to. This creates gratitude which quickly turns to praise to God who so blesses me with and surrounds me with such love, compassion and grace. I am truly grateful for all of you who are lifting us up in prayer. May God bless you abundantly in return.
Dearest Lord God, thank you for offering each of us the rest that comes when we lay down our burdens at your feet and take on what you want us to carry instead. Grant grace and peace to those who are struggling even now, and pour out on them the strength they need to walk through the dark valley with you. May we each faithfully trust in you to work all things for our best benefit. We know you are a faithful God and you will do this through Jesus and by your Spirit. Amen.
“Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” Matthew 11:28–30 NASB
When God Judges—Grace Happens
By Linda Rex
This morning as I was getting ready for the day, I paused to watch a news story with my mom. It was showing the many refugees from Iraq and Syria who were crossing into Europe in a desperate effort to find peace and safety. Later I came across a news story on the Web about how the German government in one area had to ask the people to stop being so generous to the refugees—they were being overwhelmed with provisions.
It seems on the one hand we have a horrible situation occurring in which people are being murdered, assaulted, and driven out of their homeland, while on the other we have gracious and compassionate people offering help in an impossible situation. Good and evil juxtaposed in the midst of tragedy and despair.
But isn’t this the human condition? Haven’t we come to this same place over and over?
I was talking with a person a while back who believed that Jesus is coming back on the day after the Jewish holy day of Atonement. He had his reasons for this belief all figured out and in his mind they made sense. It made me think back to all the times when I was growing up and heard different preachers telling me similar predictions which never came true.
When we look around at the horrors and tragedies going on in the world today, our hearts as Christians cry out, “Even so come, Lord Jesus!” We want to be free from our human messiness and finally have justice done to those who are evil, and receive our reward for our faithful obedience to Christ.
It is easy to see God’s judgment as the final revelation of God’s wrath against evil human beings and governments. The events described in the Revelation of St. John are understood by some as a forecast of what’s going to happen when Jesus finally returns and makes everything right.
In the midst of our broken humanity, which we face day by day, we can’t help but admit that we are unable to fix our problems. We cannot get people to stop shooting one another, no matter how many gun laws we enact or guns we take away. We cannot get people to stop divorcing each other, no matter how many counseling sessions we offer or warnings we give about how it’s going to hurt the children.
Little toddlers still go to bed hungry and teens are still sold as slaves. Large companies still misuse resources and foul the earth. People still use people and crimes are still committed. Wherever I turn, I’m hearing Christians declare we’re at the very end now because our American social system is allowing gay marriage. Our human brokenness meets us at every corner—we cannot escape it.
When I think about all this, I can come to the conclusion that the only thing we deserve as humans is to have God come in judgment and destroy us. And quite honestly, I’m not so sure that Christians are that much different than the general population, especially considering how far short we fall from the ideal. So even though we think we’ve got a good thing coming, we’re not necessarily deserving of any different treatment from anyone else if we are to get what we deserve.
It seems to me that we, humanity as a whole, are all in the same boat. The only difference is that some of us believe that Jesus Christ is God in human flesh, and that he came to save sinners. If Jesus came to save sinners, then all of humanity is in the category of people who are saved by Jesus Christ, his life, death, resurrection and ascension.
For believers, our faith in Christ is a gift from God and it is undeserved. It does not make us superior to or more perfect than anyone else—if anything, it is a participation in the judgment Jesus took upon himself—he became sin for every human being and offered himself in our place when we deserved total destruction. In many ways, our participation in Christ is also our willingness to be offered on behalf of others so they might be saved as well.
So all this nastiness going on in the world, this evil which preys upon the good God created all things to be, is not something God intended for us. We allow and participate in evil because we are human and it is our proclivity to do so. But God works in the midst of it to bring light into the darkness. He brings his love into the hate we much too often give ourselves over to. He brings mercy in the midst of judgment.
Indeed we need Jesus to come again and set everything right. But Jesus has come and put everything on the right basis already—founded upon his very being as God in human flesh. He has established perfected humanity and invited each of us to live it out in relationship with him in the Spirit. He has offered each of us the power to live beyond our human brokenness in a new way of living and being that is predicated upon his power and love. He has sent his Spirit to indwell human hearts—so that we can have a new being and a new creation.
And yet he says to us, “Believe.” What we believe about him, about our world and about ourselves is a good indicator of how well we will live out the truth of our being. This world with all of its tragedies, devastations and evils is a good description of what happens when we refuse to believe that Jesus Christ stands in our place and is for us our perfected humanity. The ravaged, abused earth is a good reflection of what happens when we refused to acknowledge any Lord other than ourselves. We are, sadly, reaping what we have sown.
But isn’t that what judgment is? And God’s purpose in judgment is not to cause us pain but to bring us to the place where we choose light over darkness, where we choose to believe he is the only one who can save us. God’s judgment brings us to the realization that our way isn’t the way things really are. Our true reality as human beings exists in the person of Jesus Christ, God’s Son. It is when we start living in agreement with this truth that we find true freedom and real eternal life.
What so many of us want today is the cosmic destruction of all that is evil and the triumph of all that is good. But if we were to be honest with ourselves, none of us are ready yet to fully give up our autonomy. We still want to be able to call our own shots about things, even if we are Christians. Too often our beliefs are external to us rather than internal and a part of what drives us in every area of our lives. We are way too good at keeping God and Jesus at the fringes of our existence.
If Jesus told us today to stop doing something he believes is not what is best for us, would we do it? Even if it meant breaking off a relationship, becoming the laughingstock of social media, or ending up in jail? Or being singled out for genocide? Is God’s judgment on evil and his gracious love at work in you and me today to transform and cleanse us in such a way that we become all that we are meant to be in Jesus right now? Do we truly believe and trust in Jesus Christ? Is he our loving Lord? It’s worth considering.
Thank you, Father God, that your heart toward us is loving and good. Thank you for giving us yourself in your Son and in your Spirit so that we might be healed and transformed. Thank you for not leaving us as we are in our brokenness and darkness, but working endlessly to transform and heal us, and to bring us into your eternal light, through Jesus and by your Spirit. Amen.
“For God did not send the Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through Him. He who believes in Him is not judged; he who does not believe has been judged already, because he has not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. This is the judgment, that the Light has come into the world, and men loved the darkness rather than the Light, for their deeds were evil.” John 3:17–19 NASB
Covenant Relationships and Our God of Grace
by Linda Rex
One of the most difficult aspects of living in covenant relationship with another human being is coming to grips with the need for unconditional love and grace. Since most of our lives we work and live within the idea of making and keeping contracts, much of our culture is based upon this type of economic and social structure. So when we come to our relationship with God, as well as the covenant of marriage, it is easy to fall back upon this type of thinking and being.
This morning I was listening to Dr. James Torrance ask the question, “Is our God the Triune God of grace or is he a contract God?” His purpose for asking that question was to help his listeners consider the difference between a covenant and a contract. Most of us clearly understand what a contract is—an agreement between two people which can be broken if one or the other does not perform completely the requirements of the contract.
When we mistakenly assume that the covenant God made with Israel and humanity is actually a contract, then what happens is that we put the terms of the agreement in the wrong order: law, consequences, grace. But if we understand that God’s covenant is one of love and grace, and is unconditional, then we understand that the proper order is: grace, law, consequences.
In other words, a covenant looks entirely different from a contract. Torrance uses the example of a marriage covenant to describe the difference. If we think a marriage agreement is a contract (if you do this, then I will do that), then whenever one or the other members of the relationship fail to meet the other’s expectations, then the relationship is broken, and each person can walk away from the relationship at any time. There isn’t really anything to bind two people together if marriage is treated like a contract. You and I both know that at some point in any relationship, someone is going to fail to meet the other person’s expectations. It’s a given, because we’re human.
But in a covenant, unconditional love and grace come first. The commitment to the other supersedes all other considerations in the relationship. Two people agree to love one another no matter what may happen in life, no matter what they each might do. Then there is an understanding that whatever they may do or say to one another will have consequences for the relationship. But the binding of the two people together by unconditional love and grace keeps the relationship intact even when there is a failure at some point to meet the other person’s expectations.
This is what God did with Israel and what he did, in fact, with all humanity. God determined that he was going to draw human beings into relationship with himself. We as human beings have so often broken our part of that covenant just as Israel broke their part of their covenant with God over and over. But God has always been faithful to what he promised. He loved us prior to us loving him. He forgave us prior to us even knowing we needed forgiven. His love and grace are unconditional. This is true covenant.
This is where relationships get tough. Are we willing to forgive the unforgiveable? Are we willing to go the extra mile? Are we willing to keep loving someone who is all prickles and thorns?
You see, God loved Israel unconditionally. Over and over, he forgave his people all of their unfaithfulness to him. Were there consequences to Israel’s breaking of the covenant relationship? Yes—they experienced slavery, oppression and devastation. Even though God allowed them to experience the full consequences of their unfaithfulness to him, he, in time, laid down his life for his people, as well as for all humanity.
God’s love and grace were and are prior to any law. Law describes what a healthy happy relationship looks like and what the consequences are when people don’t live in ways that coincide with a healthy happy relationship. God’s love and grace were present and available even when Israel failed to keep their side of the covenant and experienced the consequences of it. God’s love and grace are also present and available to each of us, in spite of our failures to live faithfully and lovingly in relationship with our God.
Yes, God often allows human beings to experience the pain and devastation that comes with living in ways that break that relationship. And that is where we need to rethink how we handle our covenant relationships. It is easy to believe that in a marriage, if one person loves the other no matter what, then they have to accept whatever behavior the other person does even if it is harmful or involves infidelity or substance abuse. But we need to rethink that.
We are called to love one another unconditionally within the marriage covenant. If a person within the relationship is an addict and is causing destruction to the relationship and to themselves, is it truly loving to allow them to continue in that destructive behavior? No. So they need to experience the consequences of their behavior, but in such a way that the covenant relationship remains intact if at all possible. Love calls the broken person to healing and wholeness and provides a safe place for them to begin to get help. Love does not leave them in their brokenness and enable them to continue their self-destruction. This is when love has to be tough.
When a person is unfaithful in a relationship, there is so much pain involved. The gut level response is to bail out of the relationship. But if indeed unconditional love and grace come first in the covenant—then there must be room, if both parties are willing, to forgive and to rebuild the relationship on a new foundation of grace. When Israel was unfaithful to God, we see the language of divorce in Hosea—yet God did not divorce Israel. Instead, he came in the person of Jesus, laid down his life, and died in her place. Wow! Most of us never get to that place of self-sacrifice and forgiveness in our relationships!
To truly love and forgive is to lay down one’s life for the other so that they can be and become all they were created to be as image-bearers of God. The Triune God of grace teaches us what covenant love looks like—and calls us to live in that relationship with him and with one another. Consequences have their place in covenant relationships. Pain and sin will happen. But unconditional love and grace trumps it all.
God of grace and love, thank you for your faithfulness and compassion. Grow in us the capacity to love and forgive as you do. Teach us what it means to live in covenant love as you do with us. Through Jesus and by your Spirit. Amen.
“I will establish My covenant between Me and you [Abraham] and your descendants after you throughout their generations for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your descendants after you.” Genesis 17:7 NASB
Over My Dead Body
By Linda Rex
I was reflecting the other day on some of my experiences out on the farm. When you live with and interact daily with animals of any kind, you experience the realities of life and death. Death of humans and animals is inevitable and can happen at the most inopportune times, creating the unpleasant task of finding a place for burial.
And death normally isn’t a very pleasant experience. After a day or two, the dead body will begin to bloat and stink, and the scavengers will begin to make a meal off of it. The stench of a rotting corpse, to me, is quite nauseating and disgusting, even though it is the normal process of decomposition. I prefer to get as far as I can from any dead body.
It’s interesting that the apostle Paul uses this stench of death as a way of describing how those who reject Christ see the lives of those who are living in communion with God. In one way we are seen as a fragrance—a lovely scent—of Christ rising to God. In the other, we are seen as a “dreadful smell of death and doom”. How can we be both at the same time?
Really it comes down to perception. What is real about each of us is not readily apparent to everyone all at once. Our new life in Christ—which is true for each and every person—is hidden with God in Christ. This means that it is a spiritual reality, an objective truth that may or may not be subjectively evident in each of our lives. In Jesus Christ each and every person lived, died and rose and again. God sent the Spirit to all. But what God has done for us in Jesus Christ and by sending the Spirit is not necessarily immediately obvious because not everyone believes or receives the gift of God in Christ and lives it out.
When a person meets and comes to know well someone who is actively participating in a new life in Christ, they are faced with the truth of the resurrection. The resurrection of Jesus, in which we are all included, means that Jesus, and all of us in him, died. There was a time when Jesus’ body was a corpse—he died—and so we each died. And we all rose from the grave in him.
The thing is—if we died in Christ—what we used to be is now, dead. That scripture that says “the heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked” (Jer 17:9) no longer applies. Sure, it can certainly look as though this old way of living and being is still alive. We can live and act and talk in a way that implies this is still the case. But God has declared in Jesus Christ a definite “No” to this being our nature any longer. He has given us the new heart he promised his people.
But what if we don’t want a new heart? What if we think the heart we have is just fine? What if we don’t see any problem with the way we are living now? What if we don’t believe that God has done any of this for us?
If this is the case, we will perceive this way of being—of living a new life in Christ—as something it is not. We will see it as being a lie, or as being something offensive that we want no part of, and so we will resist and reject the Spirit and his work of renewal. To us it will be a stinking, rotting mess. Because the evidence of this new life in Jesus tells us that without Jesus, a smelly, rotten corpse is just what we are.
We don’t like to be told the truth about ourselves. If we concede that in Jesus Christ we are made new, that means we have to die to our old ways of being and doing. If we agree that Jesus Christ defines our new humanity, that means we have to give up being lord of our lives and submit to his ways of being and doing. And that just stinks!
Jesus pounded out the importance of death and resurrection over and over in his ministry. We die with Christ and we rise with Christ—he is our life. Apart from him we have no hope. We are just old rotting corpses that God never meant for us to be.
God created beautiful things when he created human beings and he didn’t create humans to be the mess we are today. This is not who we are. In God’s purpose we are made to reflect and bear his image. When others look at us, God intends for them to see a reflection of his perichoretic nature of unity, diversity and equality. God’s purpose is for us to be creatures in whom and with whom he will dwell, who will participate with him in a relationship full of love and grace.
But because evil and sin and death has entered our cosmos, God sent his Son to take it all on himself and in the process create a new humanity with God’s nature hidden within. Then he sent his Spirit to awaken each of us to faith in Christ, so that we can participate in this new humanity. God has replaced all the dead corpses with vibrantly alive beloved children—but not everyone is willing to make the exchange. Some still want to hang on to their old dead bodies.
Personally, I’m more than happy to participate with God in the process of replacing the old with the new. The old me, which is dead, was not a very pleasant person to be around. She was pretty stinky and disgusting. As far as I’m concerned, this new life he has given me is what I want to be a part of and share with others, even if to them I am a reminder of the death of their old selves in Christ.
To a culture enamored with old ways of living and being I may be offensive and disturbing, like an old rotting corpse that stinks. But in the end, this old rotting corpse will dissolve into the ground from which it was made, and I will shine, like so many others who share Christ’s new life, as the stars in the heaven. To me, that seems to be the better, more satisfying choice.
Thank you, Father, for the gift you have given us of new life in your Son and by your Spirit. Awaken each of us to the new life that is ours. Grant us the grace to participate with you in your divine life and love as your beloved children, and to leave all that died with Christ buried with him in the tomb. Through Jesus, our Lord, and by your Spirit. Amen.
“But thank God! He has made us his captives and continues to lead us along in Christ’s triumphal procession. Now he uses us to spread the knowledge of Christ everywhere, like a sweet perfume. Our lives are a Christ-like fragrance rising up to God. But this fragrance is perceived differently by those who are being saved and by those who are perishing. To those who are perishing, we are a dreadful smell of death and doom. But to those who are being saved, we are a life-giving perfume. And who is adequate for such a task as this?” 2 Co 2:14–16 NLT
Our Life in the Trinity 