i attended a funeral sat. for a woman revered by many for her spiritual prowess and prayer life. everyone knew she was exceptionally spiritual because obviously any one who screams a lot and shakes their head violently is in touch with the Almighty. much was said about these facts as well as the fact that over the years she kept numerous children in her home. yes, and she bathed them all, fed them, and prayed over each one each and every day. it seems too, although unmentioned, that she sent many of them home with massive bruises and would probably say that most of them are going straight to hell today, but it's a funeral right... we don't talk about that stuff at funerals.
the small church was packed to the gills and we had to sit on a row of green chairs quickly set up along the back. the service started with, 'let's all stand and lift up our hands and give God worship! that's what she would have wanted.' and i'm sure it was. several songs of an old school southern gospel nature were sung, contrasted starkly by 'i can only imagine'. i spent much of this time holding my wriggling son and thinking about how this old way of 'doing' church was all but dead. i meticulously deconstructed every thing that occurred bit by bit and piece by piece with a smug sense of superiority. and then it happened some old song i'd never heard before and doubt i will ever hear again about heaven and 'going home' was sung. i watched as numerous elderly men and women stood with tears in their eyes, trembling hands lifted as high as they could extend them singing with the exhuberence of a 20-something know-it-all singing some modern worship song failing to realize that when he is their age their will be some 20-something jerk sitting in the back picking apart how he is behaving at a funeral. (wow long sentence there) i was convicted. i began to watch them in a different way. i saw the joy and expectant hope in their eyes of a kingdom promised and one which they are fast approaching. sure their view of heaven may be considerably different from mine, but is that really important?
whether heaven is on earth or some mystic plane above us or any other of a number of possibilities is really not the point. the point is the hope we have in Christ. a hope for resurrection to life w/o death pain or discomfort. a hope for a better world finally restored or newly created where we finally get it right. this hope is what kept paul going as he rotted in prison. (along with many others) this hope allowed countless thousands to be tortured, pulled apart, boiled or burned alive, and otherwise disgustingly mutilated...(deep breath) and yet hold fast to their beliefs and convictions. 'do not fear those who can merely kill the body. fear Him who can destroy both body and soul in hell.'
i'm not sure that my hope is that strong. i don't know if my hope could transcend such circumstances. apparently, i have a lot to learn from generations previous. '...whatsoever things are true...think on these things'. there is a great deal of truth in their experience and belief system. while i disagree with much of it, wherever truth is we must seize upon it.
well, i'm off to ponder (and get some work done!)
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3 comments:
great post. Bobby Treece once told me that he routinely requires the church members under 40 years to hang out with those over 40...the idea is that the members have a lot to learn about one another. I know I have a lot to learn.
Loved this post. I used to love being in a small group with some elderly saints...I learned so much from them.
wow! i got a comment from HF... i'm moving up in the world!
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