The BUngee Cord

Hello,

This upcoming Sunday is All Saints Day. It is the day in the life of the Christian Church that we rejoice with those who have found out that death is not the last word, but that, “Here in my Father’s house are many rooms….and this one is yours,” (John 14) will fall upon our ears after we die.

When I consider this promise that Jesus gives us as I live on this side of the grave, for me, it is a hard thing to imagine. What will this “house” be like? What will eternity be like? What will it be like to see God “face to face” (1 Cor. 13)? Truthfully, these are things that I cannot even imagine.

A lot of folks spend a lot of time trying to describe what heaven will be like. Even Jesus faced such questions when he was asked whose wife would a woman be in the resurrection after she had married a number of times in this life. In trying to develop a picture of what heaven will be like, they find what they consider clues in the Bible. Pearly gates. Golden streets. Angels soaring around. However, for me, these pictures of heaven create more confusion and misunderstanding than something upon which to calm my wonderings.

Some years ago, I visited an older man (someone who was my current age) who was dying of cancer. As I spoke with him, he told me of the wonders of his life….his family being foremost. And then he said to me, “I am scared to die. Tell me about heaven.”

It was so long ago that I don’t remember all that I said. I am sure that I spoke of the promise that tears and suffering will be no more, and that we will live in God’s unhidden presence for eternity, but beyond that I really couldn’t tell him much more than that. And then I told him that for me promise of life after death was a mystery….or more aptly an adventure. I told him that when I think about what is to come after this life, it is like an unborn infant trying to imagine what life would be after birth. There in the warmth of my mother’s womb, how could I even imagine what living would be like. I suspect that if I would have had the choice, I would have rather just stayed there. But as with death, so is birth. Neither can be avoided. We are thrust into them.

When I find myself facing an adventure of unknown trails, I know that I am most comforted when at the trail head I am greeted by one who knows the way. In birth, it was my parents, but now that I am a parent I realize that when I held my children in my arms after they were born, I was far from a skilled and solid guide….likewise were my parents. That is why it was a welcomed blessing that when I was baptized a couple of months after my birth, Jesus said to me as the water splashed over my head, “I am the Good Shepherd. I know the way. I have laid down my life for you. Follow me.”

Now, in the nearly seventy years of this life, I am thankful for the guiding presence of Jesus in each and every day. I am thankful for the rest that has come when I have walked along still waters and green pasture, and I am thankful for the courage and hope that has come as I have walked “through the valley of the shadow of death.” I. am thankful because all the while has been the beckoning call of Jesus, my guide, “Follow me.”

It is the promise that that call awaits me at the threshold of death that stills my fears. Although I cannot imagine what awaits me when this life is over, I am convinced that the one who has shown me self-sacrificing love will certainly do the same after I die. If God has so loved me in this life, I can wait with exhilarating expectation of what that love will be like when death is behind me.

So, I’ll be singing this Sunday, “For all the saints, who from their labors rest… Alleluia! Alleluia!”

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

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