The Unseen Life, Part 5

John 14: 1 - 7; Phil 1: 21 - 24
 
It was late afternoon. I was running a fever and was resting. Mother was slipping in and out of consciousness in the next room. Suddenly, I heard my mother’s voice in my head,
“I‘m leaving now Gerald.”
Instantly, I knew what she meant. I went into her room, and spoke closely into her ear, 
“Mother, thank you for all you have done for us. We’ll be OK. Go ahead, the Lord is waiting for you.” 
I held her hand, kissed her on her forehead, as she took her last breath. Mother was 97 and had Stage 7 Alzheimer's.
 
A few years earlier, prior to my mother’s demise, at around 1 a.m., I woke up abruptly and heard my older sister, Joyce, called out to me: 
“Goodbye, Gerald.”
I sat up in bed, attempting to find my bearings for a second. Then I responded,
“Goodbye, Joyce.”
She had spent her last three weeks in a hospice. At daybreak, I arrived at the hospice. The night nurse who was with my sister assured me that she left peacefully, around 1 in the morning. 
 
Death is the most radical manifestation of human brokenness, and it leaves an indelible mark on each of our psyche when family members and close friends depart; some gradually, others suddenly, reminding us inevitably of our own temporal journey. In fact, the world media keeps harping on it daily in more depressing tunes and horrifying briefs. To say that we do not have sufficient time to ‘befriend’ death is a misnomer, as most of us have a lifetime to embrace it. How we process it would depend on our willingness to confront our own mortality, at times encumbered by our cultural mores and blind spots, and the depth of our faith in God. Jesus comforted His disciples after sharing about His impending death, “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going.” (John 14:1-4). The Lord used a familiar earthly imagery to assure His disciples of a secure Divine home environment in the afterlife, without going into the details. The scant information, however, presupposes an inevitable central point - whether it is life here or thereafter, the critical element is our faith in our Lord Jesus, and through it, our cherished relationship with Him. Saved by grace, our life is in Christ, Who Is The Way, The Truth and The Life.
 
In many cultures, an inordinate amount of time and expense are taken up on their journeys with death; after all, these rituals are principally for the living. However, it is not unusual nowadays to get over the funeral rites as quickly as possible, and burying ourselves immediately back into work, barely coping in death’s face. But as Christians, its morbidity is more perceived than real, as this celebrative faith journey leads us literally into life eternal in the presence of our Creator. However, the palpable physical loss of loved ones cannot be minimized, with grieving as an earthly bereavement becoming a necessary healing process. Not being able to say the normal farewells may inevitably traumatize and complicate it. Perhaps Paul’s own perceptive choice is exemplary for us in our sojourn here until our call to return home comes round: “For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. 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. But I am hard-pressed from both directions, having the desire to depart and be with Christ, for that is very much better; yet to remain on in the flesh is more necessary for your sake.” (Phil1: 21 – 24). The obvious challenge is not about untying all the knots in this life that God has graciously given to each one here in this existential interregnum, but sustaining the intimate relationship with Him that eventually draws us back to Him without any regrets of life here. 
 
My parents and sister, and a few others that had preceded us are frequently on my mind, and inquisitively, my questions revolve around how they are and what they are doing? And what does it look like where they are? Scripture is vague, but one day, our curiosity will have its answers. Suffice to know that this exciting journey here on earth will end with immense grace hidden in our powerlessness. The Apostle John saw life’s finality and described it visually, “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” (Rev 21: 1 – 5). I surmise that John was engendering hope to believers in a broken world, to provide us a glimpse of the Divine future; as heaven is only heaven because our Lord Jesus is there. Just as it is written, (1 Corinthians 2: 9),

​“Things which eye has not seen and ear has not heard,           
And which have not entered the heart of man,
All that God has prepared for those who love Him.”

​God posed a couple of questions when this post was being written: What would you like to do in heaven? ..... And what are your reasons for that choice?