I think I have shared this image from Gary Crawford's series of illustrations for the United Church "new creed" once before. This one accompanies the affirmation "in life, in death, in life beyond death, God is with us. We are not alone. Thanks be to God."
As I make my way into what is likely the final third of life I find that I somehow trust this more, while being less certain about it at the same time. God is with me in the "valley of the shadow" and I feel that my own heavenly longings and humanity's sense of something more than this life are not accidents nor a creation born out of fear. But death is achingly real at times, and eternity is a deep mystery which I am less able to fathom now than at an earlier time when this life was so bright that heaven's streets were at least figuratively paved with gold.
This morning I saw an obit in the Globe and Mail for the former husband of a parishioner in Sudbury. I was never close to him to be honest, and I wasn't impressed when their marriage ended. But she was a person Ruth and I loved and when she died in a car accident a few years ago we were stunned. I was keenly aware of her death again today.He died too young as well, or so it feels.
Later in the morning I received word that the husband of one of our folk had succumbed to cancer. While he was not a churchgoer he was a gracious, intelligent man and likeable. I am saddened by his death--for him, and for his wonderfully supportive wife and adult children. Later in the afternoon I had to pause and let the powerful emotions of loss sift down in me.
How well do you deal with death? Does your faith make a difference?
We are not alone. Thanks be to God.
As I make my way into what is likely the final third of life I find that I somehow trust this more, while being less certain about it at the same time. God is with me in the "valley of the shadow" and I feel that my own heavenly longings and humanity's sense of something more than this life are not accidents nor a creation born out of fear. But death is achingly real at times, and eternity is a deep mystery which I am less able to fathom now than at an earlier time when this life was so bright that heaven's streets were at least figuratively paved with gold.
This morning I saw an obit in the Globe and Mail for the former husband of a parishioner in Sudbury. I was never close to him to be honest, and I wasn't impressed when their marriage ended. But she was a person Ruth and I loved and when she died in a car accident a few years ago we were stunned. I was keenly aware of her death again today.He died too young as well, or so it feels.
Later in the morning I received word that the husband of one of our folk had succumbed to cancer. While he was not a churchgoer he was a gracious, intelligent man and likeable. I am saddened by his death--for him, and for his wonderfully supportive wife and adult children. Later in the afternoon I had to pause and let the powerful emotions of loss sift down in me.
How well do you deal with death? Does your faith make a difference?
We are not alone. Thanks be to God.
4 comments:
I will often look at the obits and be stunned at the relatively young ages of so many who have passed on. It is a stark reminder that we really should not take anything for granted.
I value every minute I spend with my daughter, sisters and parents, because I know there are no guarantees that we will all be here tomorrow.
I really do try to think about my faith in dealing with the thoughts of mortality, however I find myself in a constant battle combatting certain doubts. I mean..who really knows what will happen to us when we pass on?
Thank you for this today David, I needed these words. I am glad to see that others see eternity as a deep mystery. It was in telling our daughter of the news of the fellow you mention that was very hard. She saw us cry and I think she knows and feels the loss that we all do.
My faith does make a difference, however there are many times when I question. Like Johnny I am learning to treasure all of the moments I spend with family and friends and not to take things for granted.
Having both my parents die at a young age (59 and 69), I can't imagine dealing with their death without my faith. During mom's last month at home, we had many honest and bare bone conversations about heaven, eternity, and death. They were challenging conversations and ones with no definite answers other than our own beliefs and doubts.
I don't know how many times I have repeated to myself the last few lines of our 'New Creed' as I faced surgery and been put under. I find those lines so comforting.
Thank you for these responses. I agree that living fully with those we love and exhibiting the love of God because of our convictions that we are not alone keep us from "pie in the sky when we die."
I want to say that I believe in eternity, but saying "I believe" doesn't capture my profound hope for a life that I can't imagine now. And, hey, if I'm wrong, nothing has changed!
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