It ain't so bad....
"It's not so bad...dying."
Actor Charlie Sheen peacefully spoke those words in the film "Platoon".
They have always stuck with me.
Yeah, what if dying is not so bad after all?
But what if living ain't so bad either?
When I fully accepted Christ, right away I noticed that in the swag package for signing on was a decided fearlessness about death. Death shall have no dominion, as either the psalmist or the poet said. Yes, the moment we stop the temporary clock down here we start the endless one up there. It is a heck of a deal, but it is not why I signed on. It was not my anticipation of walking the rest of my days on this earth with a secret smile that I was now living in Christ. It was not to have my countless sins forgiven, not the thought of meeting old friends in the Heavenly Haven Retirement Home for found souls, not the return of my svelte self in ethereal form, nor the opportunity to meet and give the finger to all the Baptist buddies of my youth,nor the chance to sing in a really good choir, or finally play an instrument well, or wander Heavens' back roads and boulevards for eternity looking for my two wives.
What was it?
I accepted Christ because he kept asking me and I finally heard him. In fact, the moment I heard him I knew the road ahead was going to get a whole lot rougher. And brother, did it ever. But I suddenly had some tools to work with. Inside of that peace that passes all understanding in the fast lane, I found a thing called grace. It rested upon me in an instant, and I was calm. All of my madness left me, and I was assured that I was no longer alone. Although I struggled mightily with the mountain I had to climb, I had company. Christ stayed with me. He took away my hunger when necessary, gave me music when I needed to speak, sent me angels to lift me up, taught me to solve problems in ways I had never considered, gave me endless patience, taught me true charity, and helped me carry my every burden. These things were all about this life, not the next. They were real and immediate. My sense of hardship was replaced with a sense of challenge. I knew I could overcome anything. And all praise to him, I surely did. This was the hour of my greatest need, and it became my finest hour.
Now here is the thing. We all agree that a sad sack like myself is always lifted from the floods of damnation so as to fulfill some purpose in Gods' master plan that is beyond our comprehension. So we have this agony of guilt to deal with. What am I meant to do? What is his plan? What is my destiny? Oh, I entertain that guilt a lot, and discuss it at the drop of a hat and receive all sorts of humanly answers which range from suggestion to outright conviction regarding what I should do to pay the piper. But think about this...
What if he is content to simply have me as his child? What if he has no greater expectation from me than to love him as I do? Any true and loving parent has in them this capacity for unconditional love, whether their child is a priest or murderer...why not Christ? He surely exhibited this sense of value while he ministered here on earth. Is it possible that I owe him nothing more than I have already given? Should me we us just relax a little and live a life of quiet calm and forget about the ego serving glories of fulfilling God's imagined purpose? Food for thought that...as I contemplate a life of solitude. Hey, what is so wrong about that?
After all, my time is running down in this life, and the next is assured...so why worry?
Actor Charlie Sheen peacefully spoke those words in the film "Platoon".
They have always stuck with me.
Yeah, what if dying is not so bad after all?
But what if living ain't so bad either?
When I fully accepted Christ, right away I noticed that in the swag package for signing on was a decided fearlessness about death. Death shall have no dominion, as either the psalmist or the poet said. Yes, the moment we stop the temporary clock down here we start the endless one up there. It is a heck of a deal, but it is not why I signed on. It was not my anticipation of walking the rest of my days on this earth with a secret smile that I was now living in Christ. It was not to have my countless sins forgiven, not the thought of meeting old friends in the Heavenly Haven Retirement Home for found souls, not the return of my svelte self in ethereal form, nor the opportunity to meet and give the finger to all the Baptist buddies of my youth,nor the chance to sing in a really good choir, or finally play an instrument well, or wander Heavens' back roads and boulevards for eternity looking for my two wives.
What was it?
I accepted Christ because he kept asking me and I finally heard him. In fact, the moment I heard him I knew the road ahead was going to get a whole lot rougher. And brother, did it ever. But I suddenly had some tools to work with. Inside of that peace that passes all understanding in the fast lane, I found a thing called grace. It rested upon me in an instant, and I was calm. All of my madness left me, and I was assured that I was no longer alone. Although I struggled mightily with the mountain I had to climb, I had company. Christ stayed with me. He took away my hunger when necessary, gave me music when I needed to speak, sent me angels to lift me up, taught me to solve problems in ways I had never considered, gave me endless patience, taught me true charity, and helped me carry my every burden. These things were all about this life, not the next. They were real and immediate. My sense of hardship was replaced with a sense of challenge. I knew I could overcome anything. And all praise to him, I surely did. This was the hour of my greatest need, and it became my finest hour.
Now here is the thing. We all agree that a sad sack like myself is always lifted from the floods of damnation so as to fulfill some purpose in Gods' master plan that is beyond our comprehension. So we have this agony of guilt to deal with. What am I meant to do? What is his plan? What is my destiny? Oh, I entertain that guilt a lot, and discuss it at the drop of a hat and receive all sorts of humanly answers which range from suggestion to outright conviction regarding what I should do to pay the piper. But think about this...
What if he is content to simply have me as his child? What if he has no greater expectation from me than to love him as I do? Any true and loving parent has in them this capacity for unconditional love, whether their child is a priest or murderer...why not Christ? He surely exhibited this sense of value while he ministered here on earth. Is it possible that I owe him nothing more than I have already given? Should me we us just relax a little and live a life of quiet calm and forget about the ego serving glories of fulfilling God's imagined purpose? Food for thought that...as I contemplate a life of solitude. Hey, what is so wrong about that?
After all, my time is running down in this life, and the next is assured...so why worry?
posted by Byron | 3:01 AM
5 Comments:
Well said B. Years ago Nance said "I'm not motivated (to faith) by either heaven or hell." And that stuck with me. I'm motivated by the same God that walks with my parents and their parents before. I'm motivated by those quiet, restive, content moments that come from being loved. I'm motivated by the "deep down freshness things" and the beauty of the one who conceived them. And like you, I'm motivated by a patient, parental grace that takes no offence at my immaturities but doesn't allow me to stay in them.
Thanks for the thoughts.
You're right, Byron. God just wants us as his child. But just you wait, God is someday going to show you what your purpose was, and you're going to say, "I did that???" It's happening whether you're aware of it or not.
In his Rule for the monastery, St Benedict instructed his monks to "keep death before them daily," meaning that they should live with an awareness of their own morality and to hold that very lightly. I think, Byron, that your ramblings stake pretty much that same Benedictine ground.
Jamie Howison
As I read your words, tears well up in my eyes. Not because I know you and know what God's amazing grace has wrought in your life. But because you have reminded me, taught me really, how wonderful is the love of God shown to me, through Christ, by the power of His Spirit. Your words bring a message of peace and completeness in a way, from which I keep drifting because of my own old baggage and guilts. Good words that are a balm to a wounded heart and freshness to a cluttered mind. This is a profound message of the Good News. You are an angel. (And I mean that in the most masculine, powerful, messanger sort of way).
Lookin' to re-up Lair?
thx
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home