by Teri Ong
This has been a year of “moving to the next phase” for our family and for many in our close circle of friends. In our family,
Child No. 7 graduated from high school
Child No. 6 graduated from college
Child No. 5 got married
Child No. 4 got into career employment in law enforcement
Child No. 3 celebrated a year of marriage
Children Nos. 2 and 1 are adding babies to their families
On the opposite side of happy, we lost Steve’s dad and several other extended family members, close friends, and mentors in death. The unusual number of deaths that have touched our family have served as a foil to help us appreciate more fully all of the happy changes. But in reflection, even the deaths were happy changes for the ones who died, since we have good reasons to believe they all died in Jesus. Thinking of their deaths in that way requires what writer Harry Blamires calls “double vision.”
“We have to look at all things in two ways. We face our fellows and our environment in a double capacity: our fellows and their environment likewise exist in a double capacity too. We are creatures of time but also pilgrims of eternity, sons of Adam but also reborn in Christ, children of nature but also sons of God. It is disastrous, indeed fatal, when men try to live as though they were only the one or the other. The double vision is essential to sanity and sanctity…
The double vision by which we are enabled to see together and at once the natural and the supernatural, the temporal and the eternal, the physical and the spiritual, is something we must carry over into every field of our earthly life.”
Our family has been praying for a good friend and mentor who has been undergoing treatments for late stage melanoma. We have been praying that God will spare his life and give him more years of ministry. If he gets well, God will get much glory because it can only be the result of God’s miraculous healing. But looking at our request through “double vision” lenses, we can understand that his heart echoes the Apostle Paul’s,
“For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. 22 But if I am to live on in the flesh, this will mean fruitful labor for me; and I do not know which to choose. 23 But I am hard-pressed from both directions, having the desire to depart and be with Christ, for that is very much better; 24 yet to remain on in the flesh is more necessary for your sake.” Phil. 1:21-24 NASU
The only thing that can keep us here is unfinished business. For a Christian, life on earth, no matter how good, or blessed, or happy, or fulfilling, can’t compare with the life in heaven. I feel a little guilty when I ask the Lord to heal people who are getting close to home. I know that asking God to let them stay here a little longer is based on my perception of it being “necessary” for me, rather than on what would bring them the greatest joy and comfort.
I have been thinking about the contrast between the feelings of Mary and Martha and Lazarus. (See John 11) Before Lazarus was raised from the dead, Mary, Martha, close friends, relatives, and even Jesus grieved and cried over his departure. Then they rejoiced just as greatly over his return to them. But as I think about Lazarus, unless God expunged his memory of the blessedness of Abraham’s Bosom [see Luke 16:22-25 This is about a different Lazarus, but refers to the blessed abode of the dead before Jesus ascended], it must have been very difficult to come back to earth with its certainty of pain, suffering, testings, temptations, and even a second go at death. Lazarus and all the others who ever had the “privilege” of being resurrected got to fellowship in the sufferings of Christ in a very unique way: they got to experience what it was like to leave the glories of heaven for lower than “third world” earth life.
I remember a humorous poem shared by my ninth grade health teacher on the occasion of our first aid certification course. The poem began,
“Lady, if you see me lying
On the ground, I may be dying…”
The writer then described the hazards of receiving first aid treatment from a less than well trained civilian. After careful consideration of the consequences, he concluded with the line,
“Lady, let me lie.”
That pretty well sums up how I think I will feel if I ever have to go through, as most of us will, a sickness unto death. Unless you perceive that I have a great deal of unfinished Kingdom business yet to do, “let me lie.” In the meanwhile, I will be as diligent as I can to keep chipping away at all that is necessary for your sakes and for mine.
I heard recently about the deaths of a couple whose children I babysat when I was a teenager. Both of them had attained the allotted “three score and ten” years and were fine Christians. They were in a car wreck that caused their car to explode, killing them both instantly. Earthly eyes might see a great tragedy. “Double vision” sees and responds, “What a way to go! Blasted hand in hand with no suffering right into the presence of Jesus!” They wouldn’t want it any other way.
Reference:
Blamires, Harry. The Offering of Man. New York: Morehouse-Barlow Co., 1960. Pages 29,37.
Now let our souls on wings sublime
Rise from the vanities of time,
Draw back the parting veil, and see
The glories of eternity.
Twice born by a celestial birth,
Why should we grovel here on earth?
Why grasp at this world’s passing toys,
When we have heaven’s eternal joys?
Shall we be side-tracked on the road,
When we are traveling back to God?
From exile into life we come,
And dying is but going home!
Welcome, sweet hour of full discharge,
That sets our longing souls at large,
Unbinds our chains, breaks up our cell,
And gives us with our God to dwell.
– Thomas Gibbons (1720-1785)
