What Hope Do We Have?
It has been a rather solemn Easter. There has been a wedding and two “near” funerals, which is not entirely inappropriate considering the bitter-sweetness of the Easter season. On Friday, we remember the death of Christ. On Sunday, we celebrate his victory over death, on our behalf. Both life and death are central themes; one cannot exist without either. We will not understand the eternal life that God has promised us if we do not understand Death.
There is a certain human morbidity towards mortality. In Chinese customs, it is “suai” (unlucky) to even speak of it. Whenever I mention my own mortality to my parents, they would also say “Choy! Choy! Choy!” Nobody likes talking about Death. Even the mere mention of it sends shivers down the spine of some, like the breath of some unspoken evil.
Christians are not spared. Among Christian circles that I know, it is far better to speak of pastry shops and guitar models than the way in which we wish to die. It is not a fair statement, I agree. After all, God has given us the world to be enjoyed ala John Piper. The World is good and beautiful because God made it. But it is also fallen.
So it is perhaps “kosher” to speak of Death during Easter, when we speak of it not only in isolation, but also together with the promises of its own destruction by the blood of Christ. We hear during sermon today, a testimony of a man who was crushed in a car accident – involving a train. He lives miraculously and speaks of God’s blessings. The preacher today broke the news at the pulpit of a possible disease that may leave him walking on this earth for perhaps 2 to 5 years yet. And then the inevitable.
It is in this fresh light that I re-read the story of Lazarus in John 11. A few things I learnt about griefing. That it is firstly, ok to weep. Jesus wept when he saw where Lazarus died. Martha wept, even though she believed Jesus will resurrect him on the Last Day. Weeping and mourning is natural. Secondly, that Jesus wanted for Lazarus to die before resurrecting him, knowing that L will surely die, and that was better for him to die, and then be resurrected, so that more could believe, and more importantly, that it would be beyond any reasonable doubt that he is God. Implied in this, is that our death is at the Lord’s own bidding. He knows our time. Thirdly, and this is my own understanding, that the point in which death occurs is irrelevant to a believer. We will all die an earthly death (before Jesus comes again). It is merely an intermediate point, between now and everlasting.
These points have a very practical implication on our lives. The climax of Jesus’ Ministry was his Death and Resurrection on the cross. It was not his goodness, though he was good. It was not his Wisdom, though he was wise. The central part of your faith and mine in Jesus is not that we will become good and acceptable to God and men. It is not just that we are put right and escape judgment. All these are true. But the crux, the nub of it remains that we have Resurrection Hope. It means that we will be like Christ, and we have conquered death and will live forever. That, was in essence, Christ’s ministry on this earth.
So what does this mean for Daniel?
It means that when we bring him up, we want don’t necessarily want him to be the smartest, funniest, happiest kid on the block. It means that we don’t just want him to have the “right values” and be a “good citizen” to his country. It means we will focus on ensuring that he has eternal life; and that death for him (yes, surely that will come) will be but an intermediate point because he believes and loves Jesus so much that he will not spare a second thought about running the race along the straight and narrow.
It is not easy for parents to talk about the death of their children. But I feel strangely compelled to think and write about it. If we, as believers, do not confront death, it means deep down in our hearts somewhere, we don’t have Resurrection Hope. And it is in precisely in thinking about the (eventual) death of our children, that we put first things first. Yes, we do want them to be happy and balanced individuals, much loved by others. But not at the cost of his holiness, not at the cost of him forsaking Christ.
This puts in contrast some interesting questions. Do we send him to an expensive pre-school so that he’ll have the best opportunity to develop his young pliable mind? Or do we read him the Bible regularly and pray with him? Not mutually exclusive, I admit, but in our busy lives, we tend to let one slip. Do we love him for all his faults, or do we try our darnest best to make him a well-behaved kid so that others will find him irresistible? Again, not mutually exclusive, but I know myself – the deepest darkest of our own parental motives can sometimes incline to prepare our child for the best shot for success in this world (first and foremost), and, oh by the way, yes, we of course want him to be holy. Thinking about Daniel’s death, therefore, puts all these issues in the right perspective. I want my son to have eternal life. I want him to glorify God forever.
This has been a long post after an equally long absence. I have been telling R about my malaise and lack of closeness with God the past days, weeks. I can’t quite put my finger on it. But I think I’m a bit closer after these Easter day thoughts. Parenting consumes parents. It does. And I think God wants me to love my son truly with the right motives at the bottom of my heart, and not go down the dangerous road of parental pride.
There is a certain human morbidity towards mortality. In Chinese customs, it is “suai” (unlucky) to even speak of it. Whenever I mention my own mortality to my parents, they would also say “Choy! Choy! Choy!” Nobody likes talking about Death. Even the mere mention of it sends shivers down the spine of some, like the breath of some unspoken evil.
Christians are not spared. Among Christian circles that I know, it is far better to speak of pastry shops and guitar models than the way in which we wish to die. It is not a fair statement, I agree. After all, God has given us the world to be enjoyed ala John Piper. The World is good and beautiful because God made it. But it is also fallen.
So it is perhaps “kosher” to speak of Death during Easter, when we speak of it not only in isolation, but also together with the promises of its own destruction by the blood of Christ. We hear during sermon today, a testimony of a man who was crushed in a car accident – involving a train. He lives miraculously and speaks of God’s blessings. The preacher today broke the news at the pulpit of a possible disease that may leave him walking on this earth for perhaps 2 to 5 years yet. And then the inevitable.
It is in this fresh light that I re-read the story of Lazarus in John 11. A few things I learnt about griefing. That it is firstly, ok to weep. Jesus wept when he saw where Lazarus died. Martha wept, even though she believed Jesus will resurrect him on the Last Day. Weeping and mourning is natural. Secondly, that Jesus wanted for Lazarus to die before resurrecting him, knowing that L will surely die, and that was better for him to die, and then be resurrected, so that more could believe, and more importantly, that it would be beyond any reasonable doubt that he is God. Implied in this, is that our death is at the Lord’s own bidding. He knows our time. Thirdly, and this is my own understanding, that the point in which death occurs is irrelevant to a believer. We will all die an earthly death (before Jesus comes again). It is merely an intermediate point, between now and everlasting.
These points have a very practical implication on our lives. The climax of Jesus’ Ministry was his Death and Resurrection on the cross. It was not his goodness, though he was good. It was not his Wisdom, though he was wise. The central part of your faith and mine in Jesus is not that we will become good and acceptable to God and men. It is not just that we are put right and escape judgment. All these are true. But the crux, the nub of it remains that we have Resurrection Hope. It means that we will be like Christ, and we have conquered death and will live forever. That, was in essence, Christ’s ministry on this earth.
So what does this mean for Daniel?
It means that when we bring him up, we want don’t necessarily want him to be the smartest, funniest, happiest kid on the block. It means that we don’t just want him to have the “right values” and be a “good citizen” to his country. It means we will focus on ensuring that he has eternal life; and that death for him (yes, surely that will come) will be but an intermediate point because he believes and loves Jesus so much that he will not spare a second thought about running the race along the straight and narrow.
It is not easy for parents to talk about the death of their children. But I feel strangely compelled to think and write about it. If we, as believers, do not confront death, it means deep down in our hearts somewhere, we don’t have Resurrection Hope. And it is in precisely in thinking about the (eventual) death of our children, that we put first things first. Yes, we do want them to be happy and balanced individuals, much loved by others. But not at the cost of his holiness, not at the cost of him forsaking Christ.
This puts in contrast some interesting questions. Do we send him to an expensive pre-school so that he’ll have the best opportunity to develop his young pliable mind? Or do we read him the Bible regularly and pray with him? Not mutually exclusive, I admit, but in our busy lives, we tend to let one slip. Do we love him for all his faults, or do we try our darnest best to make him a well-behaved kid so that others will find him irresistible? Again, not mutually exclusive, but I know myself – the deepest darkest of our own parental motives can sometimes incline to prepare our child for the best shot for success in this world (first and foremost), and, oh by the way, yes, we of course want him to be holy. Thinking about Daniel’s death, therefore, puts all these issues in the right perspective. I want my son to have eternal life. I want him to glorify God forever.
This has been a long post after an equally long absence. I have been telling R about my malaise and lack of closeness with God the past days, weeks. I can’t quite put my finger on it. But I think I’m a bit closer after these Easter day thoughts. Parenting consumes parents. It does. And I think God wants me to love my son truly with the right motives at the bottom of my heart, and not go down the dangerous road of parental pride.
1 Comments:
Hi Bim! It's Vanessa here :-)
Loved your post. Actually a good friend and i have just come out of an intense discussion on this (stretched out over 2 weeks!)... It is really hard, in an environment like ours, to bring up our children with the purest of motives, devoid of any sinful parental pride whatsoever. If only we could isolate ourselves completely like the Amish, ha ha! But...seriously speaking, i think even pastors are not spared from this w.r.t. their own families - Have you ever met a pastor whose son was prominent in church and oh, btw, happened to be a doctor/banker/scholar as well? And seen the look of pride on his face as he casually mentioned it to you? Sigh......
Post a Comment
<< Home