Tag Archives: Death

Chapter-a-Day

Chapter-a-Day 1 Chronicles 10

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Die well. Saul died in disobedience, disobedient to God. 1 Chronicles 10:13 (MSG)

I had been asked to perform the funeral by the deceased man's family. There was a distant connection, and I agreed to officiate though I'd never met the guy. A few days before the funeral I gathered with the children of the deceased to listen to family stories and get a sense for who this guy had been in life. Usually, this is kind of a special time that helps me learn about the person I'm helping lay to rest and becomes a time of healing and closure for the family. This time, however, instead of warm tears, laughter and precious memories heartfully related, I received a table full of empty stares and agonizing silence.

At the church, prior to the funeral, a stranger walked up to me. "This ought to be a challenge. How do you find something good to say about this guy?" he said with a sneer before walking away. After the funeral, many people commented that they appreciated how I handled the service in view of the terrible man in the casket.

How will I die? I don't mean "how" in terms of the manner in which I expire, but "how" in terms of the state of my heart and life when I reach the finish line here on Earth. It's not a question we think much about, but it's one worth pondering. Today's chapter states that "Saul died in disobedience." What a sad statement. What a rotten epitaph.

I want to die in obedience. I want to die in the love of God, my family, and my friends. I want to die having walked the journey well, having pressed on through adversity, having arrived at a place of deep contentment.

How will you die?

Chapter-a-Day

Chapter-a-Day Isaiah 53

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Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world. Who believes what we've heard and seen? Who would have thought God's saving power would look like this?

The servant grew up before God—a scrawny seedling,
   a scrubby plant in a parched field.
There was nothing attractive about him,
   nothing to cause us to take a second look.
He was looked down on and passed over,
   a man who suffered, who knew pain firsthand.
One look at him and people turned away.
   We looked down on him, thought he was scum.
But the fact is, it was our pains he carried—
   our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us.
We thought he brought it on himself,
   that God was punishing him for his own failures.
But it was our sins that did that to him,
   that ripped and tore and crushed him—our sins!
He took the punishment, and that made us whole.
   Through his bruises we get healed.
We're all like sheep who've wandered off and gotten lost.
   We've all done our own thing, gone our own way.
And God has piled all our sins, everything we've done wrong,
   on him, on him.

He was beaten, he was tortured,
   but he didn't say a word.
Like a lamb taken to be slaughtered
   and like a sheep being sheared,
   he took it all in silence.
Justice miscarried, and he was led off—
   and did anyone really know what was happening?
He died without a thought for his own welfare,
   beaten bloody for the sins of my people.
They buried him with the wicked,
   threw him in a grave with a rich man,
Even though he'd never hurt a soul
   or said one word that wasn't true.

Still, it's what God had in mind all along,
   to crush him with pain.
The plan was that he give himself as an offering for sin
   so that he'd see life come from it—life, life, and more life.
   And God's plan will deeply prosper through him.

Out of that terrible travail of soul,
   he'll see that it's worth it and be glad he did it.
Through what he experienced, my righteous one, my servant,
   will make many "righteous ones,"
   as he himself carries the burden of their sins.
Therefore I'll reward him extravagantly—
   the best of everything, the highest honors—
Because he looked death in the face and didn't flinch,
   because he embraced the company of the lowest.
He took on his own shoulders the sin of the many,
   he took up the cause of all the black sheep. Isaiah 53

This beautiful, breathtaking prophecy was written by Isaiah some 600 years before Jesus took up our sins on the cross. After reading it this morning, I genuinely felt it would be silly, even wrong, of me to try and add any of my own feeble commentary.

Creative Commons photo courtesy of Flickr and coltrane

Chapter-a-Day

Chapter-a-Day Isaiah 47

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One phone call away. Ruin descends— you can't charm it away.
Disaster strikes— you can't cast it off with spells.
Catastrophe, sudden and total— and you're totally at sea, totally bewildered!
Isaiah 47:11 (MSG)

The phone call came on a warm summer evening. I was in the basement (where it was cool), watching television.

Pack something quick. Get in the car. We're going.

Grandpa and grandma were on a walk. There was an accident. They were struck by a car. We don't know anything more. Let's go.

There are scenes from that night that are indelibly etched in my memory. I remember the long drive to northwest Iowa. In pre-cell phone days there was no instant communication. You drove. You waited to find out. You agonized. You prayed. I remember hearing the nurse at St. Luke's hospital say that my grandma was dead. What a strange concept for my ten year old brain to grasp. I'd just seen grandma weeks before, and now I'd never see her again. I remember seeing my father cry for the first time and my mother comforting him. My vision of parents expanded that night. I saw humanity in them that I'd never perceived before.

I learned an important life lesson that warm summer evening. It was not anything that any person said. Experience was my teacher. I learned that we are all, every one of use, just one heartbeat, one breath, one teenager's momentary distraction, one unexpected phone call from tragic, life altering circumstances beyond our control.

It's good to know who holds the future.

It's good each night that I lay my head on the pillow and can thank God that the phone didn't ring that day.

Creative Commons photo courtesy of Flickr and qole

Chapter-a-Day

Chapter-a-Day Isaiah 35

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Narrow is the path that leads to life. The people God has ransomed will come back on this road. They'll sing as they make their way home to Zion, unfading halos of joy encircling their heads, Welcomed home with gifts of joy and gladness as all sorrows and sighs scurry into the night. Isaiah 35:9-10 (MSG)

"Do you know where you're going?" Wendy asks me as pull out of the driveway on a trip.

"Yes," I reply, "Short term, and long term."

[cue: rim shot]

"Do you know where you're going?" is such a great question. Do you know where the road of life is leading? Do you have a destination in mind? Are you walking with purpose?

A few weeks ago, Wendy and I attended the funeral of our friend, Mike. Mike was a gifted musician and he fought a long, courageous battle with cancer. I was so blessed to watch from afar as Mike entered the homestretch of his journey on Earth. It reminded me of the final verses of today's chapter. He planned his funeral, and it was obvious from the numerous songs and hymns that he chose for us to sing and the scripture passages he picked out for us to read out loud that he knew where he was going - short term and long term.

So, do you know where you're going?

Creative Commons photo courtesy of Flickr and john

Chapter-a-Day

Chapter-a-Day Isaiah 32

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Long journey. Yes, weep and grieve until the Spirit is poured down on us from above…. Isaiah 32:15a (MSG)

There are no shortcuts through grief. There are only side roads which, deceptively, exit and escape grief's path for a time but which never take you where you need to go.

Grief's road must be fully traversed before the Spirit is poured down from above and a new leg of the journey can begin.

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Chapter-a-Day

Chapter-a-Day Isaiah 25

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Divine appointment at the airport bar. "And here on this mountain, God will banish the pall of doom hanging over all peoples, The shadow of doom darkening all nations. Yes, he'll banish death forever." Isaiah 25:7 (MSG)

Flying through Denver International airport last night, I sat and had dinner at the bar of a restaurant on the B Concourse where I could watch the Cubs get pounded by the Mets (being a Cubs fan requires a lot of faith). It was there that I met Joe, who was quite drunk and sitting to my immediate left. I instantly liked Joe. He seemed like a nice enough guy, even in his inebriated state. He was friendly and charismatic. Joe had been at the bar a long time. He'd missed two flights already according to the lengthy description of his day.

Joe talked a lot, and I got to know him quite well as I ate my caesar salad. He made his first million in Iowa. Joe had everything, it would seem. He was healthy and looked much younger than his early fifties (He thought we were the same age, and told me I looked much older than my age. Sometimes drunk people just can't filter things the way they should.). Joe was good looking. He clearly had a ton of money and all that it could buy. There were, however, two things Joe clearly did not have. He did not have a friend (I was it), and he did not have peace. Joe was alone. Joe had "the pall of doom hanging over all peoples." His spirit was tortured. I could see it in his eyes. It was in his posture. I heard it in his slurred words.

I listened to Joe's story. I learned of his many broken relationships. He told me about his inability to perform sexually with his young girlfriend. His life was a total mess. All the money and success were worthless to provide that which he truly needed. He was an empty shell of a man medicating himself from the pain of his soul. I tried to be a good friend and love Joe well in the few minutes that our lives touched.

Today, I'm praying for my friend Joe. I'm grateful for God's amazing grace in my own life, which I do not deserve. I'm thankful that Jesus came to banish death and it's morbid pall. I'm praying that I will be an instrument of God's peace, that where there is despair I can sow hope, and where there is darkness I can shed light.

Even at the bar on Concourse B.

Creative Commons photo courtesy of Flickr and drh

Chapter-a-Day

Chapter-a-Day Isaiah 4

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Life springs up. And that's when God's Branch will sprout green and lush. Isaiah 4:2 (MSG)

I write this post on the back end of one of the longest, and most brutal winters my hometown has experienced. We shattered the record for the amount of snowfall we had. Each week brought more snow, ice, wind, and cold. And then, it was over. In one week the snow melted, revealing green grass that had been well inslated under a thick blanket of snow. The tulips immediately began to shoot from the ground. Life springs up in the wake of deathly winter.

There is a pattern, a theme, that runs through God's message. It is a message of hope and redemption. We see it in today's chapter and we will see it throughout Isaiah's prophecy. Doomsday and judgement are followed by salvation. Winter is followed by spring. Valleys give way to the next mountain top.

Believe. Press on.

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Chapter-a-Day

Chapter-a-Day 1 Kings 4

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What we leave behind. God gave Solomon wisdom—the deepest of understanding and the largest of hearts.1 Kings 4:29 (MSG)

Along my journey, I have had the privilege of conducting a number of funeral services. Most people don't consider the task a privilege, but I've always found funerals to be an extroadinary event for individuals and families. Death is the ultimate rite of passage, and walking with a family through the traumatic event provides life lessons most people will never experience.

For example, when preparing to deliver a eulogy and a funeral message, I usually meet with the family and ask them just to take some time to talk about and tell stories about their loved one who has passed on. It can be a really tender, special time or it can be an agonizing, painful experience.You begin to learn a lot about who this person by the legacy they left behind through their loved ones descriptions.

When I read today's chapter and came to the writer's summary of Solomon, I was struck by the description that Solomon had "the deepest of understanding and the largest of hearts." Wow. That's not a bad legacy to leave behind. I'd consider my journey well traveled if my loved ones, gathering together at my passing, would describe me with those words.

Creative Commons photo courtesy of Flickrand chuckumentary