Our church family is mourning the recent loss of a dear lady named Margaret. Many knew her quite well, and not a few have known her more than 30 years. However, those who have been with us less than four years or so haven't had as much chance to get to know her. Her last several years were spent mostly within the confines of a care facility, and her ability to be with us steadily diminished with her health. To get to know Margaret in these years required going to her - and that privilege was well worth the trip.
Although I was not with Margaret the hour she passed, Lynne and I were able to spend quite a bit of time with her, her family, and a constant stream of loved ones over her last two days. We were also with her and her husband Pete when he passed almost exactly four years ago. The pastoral responsibilities, as you might imagine, have put me in a number of situations where the pall of death drapes down from the rafters like a curtain.
Those experiences have run the spectrum. There have been peaceful times where underlying confidence of entering into the presence of the Lord buoys the entire experience. There have been times when there remained far more unresolved relational issues than the time left afforded for any real repair, despite frantic attempts to "set things right." There was even one situation where the person was not prepared to die and fought it with everything she had, including some rather disturbing moments of sheer, inconsolable dread.
One thing that has been cemented in me through the collection of these experiences is that death is not the worst thing that can happen to us. First, estrangement from others rivals death. That may sound overstated ... while we're all breathing in and out with some measure of confidence. But when the end for one of the estranged parties is within days or hours, I have seen more grief caused by the ill repair of the relationship than by the parting of death. The regrets that soon follow further exceed the pain of loss. On the other hand, when the relationships are healthy, the last hours are not panicked, largely ineffective stabs at reconciliation. Rather, the loved ones can focus merely on the comfort of and fond memories with the dying.
Second, estrangement from God far exceeds death. While we're strong and eager, we may ignore God or even shake our fists at Him. But He is eternal, and our bodies are temporal. There will always come a time when we are too weak, too close to passing, to even form a fist to shake at Him. The confidence that death is nothingness teeters ... "What if?" When one is estranged from God, there is no external surety that what lies ahead is better. On the other hand, a healthy relationship with the Lord stirs a sense of eager anticipation beneath the immediacy of loss.
The reality of impending death for each of us gives us a choice: Life Lessons or Life Lessens. Either death teaches us lessons about life, especially about our relationships with others and with God, or life lessens - it becomes less valuable. In that case, death does not enrich the days we have left. In that case, death just robs those days of deep joy, peace, and love they could otherwise contain.
I've seen enough death to appreciate life, but not cling to it more than everything else. Because I have seen a number of deaths, I value more my relationships with others and with the Lord. Death can be our tutor, or it can be just a thief.
No comments:
Post a Comment