There is a lot of talk about death surrounding Easter, and the time leading up to it. It's a difficult topic because I imagine there is nothing quite so scary to humanity as the end of being. Of course, for Christians, Easter is a time of joy because it promises the ending to this existence will be followed by a new and better kind of life.
When I was in grade school, we didn't have spring break. Instead, we had Good Friday and the Monday after Easter as holidays. Now, it's difficult to even find stores closed on the actual day of Easter. With so many people afraid to die, it's interesting that little consideration is given to the event that can alleviate that fear, or at least, most of it.
As a child, I couldn't understand why it was called Good Friday because, I surmised, it certainly wasn't good for Jesus! But now I believe two things: 1) If Jesus hadn't died, He could not have risen and there would be no point to Christianity; and 2) Jesus experienced what most of us have in our darkest hours. When He said, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" He wasn't questioning whether there was a God, but maybe only that He could not feel God's presence and wondered why He was still here. (I don't know for sure if that is the case; I'll leave that to the Biblical scholars.) We sometimes feel that way too, and it's our plea to "do something, God!"
Our pastor gave a sermon two weeks ago that included his experience as a former hospice chaplain. Many times, people were ready to die but could not understand why there were still here. His response was provocative − to show others how to die. I'm sure they would have preferred the Charles Dickens's version, "...if they be like to die, then let them do it and decrease the surplus population." Unlike Jesus who commended his spirit to God and then died, it's usually not our choice when that happens. The difference too is that Jesus knew what he was doing and why.
Sunday, I will celebrate Easter and rejoice in its message. I know that faith has made me a better person, not perfect by any means, but better because I've been shown how to live and how to die.
Happy Easter to the World!
Saturday, March 31, 2018
Friday, March 16, 2018
Tragedy − Too Close
I heard a number of sirens, but not the gunshot that summoned them less than 30 yards away. Apparently that noise was muffled by my washing machine and dryer.
It's not unusual to occasionally hear the screaming of emergency vehicles on the thoroughfare nearby, even over TV or music. But after ten years, I only notice them if there are many, and Wednesday night, there were. Because the sirens were so incessant, at one point, I went outside to see which direction the vehicles were going. I didn't stay outside long enough to see some of them pull into my own small community of town homes. It was just a short time later that I received a phone call from the wife of the president of our home owner association to alert me, as a Board member, to what happened.
Like all horrific incidents, there is always speculation and misinformation. At first, it was thought a domestic situation resulted in the shooting, and we soon learned a fatality occurred. A few hours later, it was known to be a suicide. All of this occurred so close to my town home that I can easily see the unit from my patio. When the draperies were opened, the multiple and lingering flashing lights confirmed that something bad had, indeed, happened.
It was even more unnerving to me for another reason. Just the day before, I was walking my grand-dog and encountered two of the three people living there. It is a rental and on the street separated by our common ground between the homes. We said hello and spoke briefly, not knowing that the next day held such a devastating secret.
Our neighborhood is comprised mostly of live-in owners in addition to some rentals, so we often don't know the names of transient residents, or sometimes even when they move in or out. But the wonderful thing about human nature is compassion, even when you don't really know someone. Whether it is an epic event like 9-11 or a cataclysmic natural disaster, people come together and want to help. And that's just what has happened during the last 48 hours in our small community.
It's not unusual to occasionally hear the screaming of emergency vehicles on the thoroughfare nearby, even over TV or music. But after ten years, I only notice them if there are many, and Wednesday night, there were. Because the sirens were so incessant, at one point, I went outside to see which direction the vehicles were going. I didn't stay outside long enough to see some of them pull into my own small community of town homes. It was just a short time later that I received a phone call from the wife of the president of our home owner association to alert me, as a Board member, to what happened.
Like all horrific incidents, there is always speculation and misinformation. At first, it was thought a domestic situation resulted in the shooting, and we soon learned a fatality occurred. A few hours later, it was known to be a suicide. All of this occurred so close to my town home that I can easily see the unit from my patio. When the draperies were opened, the multiple and lingering flashing lights confirmed that something bad had, indeed, happened.
It was even more unnerving to me for another reason. Just the day before, I was walking my grand-dog and encountered two of the three people living there. It is a rental and on the street separated by our common ground between the homes. We said hello and spoke briefly, not knowing that the next day held such a devastating secret.
Our neighborhood is comprised mostly of live-in owners in addition to some rentals, so we often don't know the names of transient residents, or sometimes even when they move in or out. But the wonderful thing about human nature is compassion, even when you don't really know someone. Whether it is an epic event like 9-11 or a cataclysmic natural disaster, people come together and want to help. And that's just what has happened during the last 48 hours in our small community.
Of course, my first response was to pray for the unfortunate, departed soul, and also for those left behind; that's something I will continue to do for a while. Even so, at the same time, I am also most grateful for what God has instilled in us − the desire to care for one another. Simply put, tragedy often shows us the real reason we are here.
Monday, March 12, 2018
Why We Are Here
I have recently finished reading Dan Brown's book Origin. It asks two questions about our existence: Where did we come from?Where are we going?
The book, like many others by Dan Brown, has had some negative response, especially due to its main character Robert Langdon who is somewhat agnostic. But strangely enough, the character asks the question which all atheists should ask. In the book, one of Robert Langdon's former students (Edmond) asserts, "...the laws of physics alone can create life." And then the paragraph continues with "but for Langdon it raised one burning question that he was surprised nobody was asking: If the laws of physics are so powerful that they can create life...who created the laws?!" Bingo!
We humans abide by a very linear timeline − things are finite in our world and we can't imagine how it all really began. But it did begin somewhere and many of us call that God. He created us and all that is. As I've said before in other blogs, I really don't care how God created everything, I just believe He (and Jesus, John 1:3) did it.
Now as to the other question (spoiler alert), asking where we are going, it alludes to becoming one with technology. That part is a little more difficult to refute. Already, advances have created bionics and implants that help to assist and regulate our failing bodies. It's also no secret that at some point, earth will become over-populated, long before our sun becomes a supernova. Although these issues are in the future, I am more concerned with the ever-present question and answer of why we are here.
I do believe in science, and I do believe in God, so in the end, the question of our existence isn't really a problem for me; I simply believe we are here to care for our fellowman. And for me, that's what really counts. Oh, one more thing − I'll also keep reading Dan Brown's books for entertainment.
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