Life is Short
Life is Short
One insurance co. has the slogan, Life comes at you fast. This fragile life also passes the same way. News reporters, trained to tell a story straight, without personal input or amendment, must sometimes violate this code of journalism. The tragedy seems too deep, the significance for society too shocking for any human being to endure it without comment. Reporters must demarcate the story from events of lesser impact. Though nothing really new may happen under the sun, things frequently strike us right where we live. What kind of reporter could calmly tell us about the World Trade Towers going down, or of Mt. St. Helens raining down destruction? Back in November of 1963 when Oswald shot and killed John F. Kennedy in Dallas, newspeople registered the grim news with stricken emotions. After the murder of Bobby Kennedy, I recall one benumbed anchor saying simply, Life is short. Who can argue with that?
We live for a handsbreadth of time; life is a brief candle. Life is a poor player who struts and frets his final hour upon the stage and then is heard no more (Shakespeare). Life is a vapor, the dew of the morning gone at noon, a shattered mirror, the other cessation of winter, the last leaf on a dead tree, goldengrove unleaving, a bulldozed home, the end of the line, sunrise/sunset/, the last playful move of a puppy grown old, a clock ticking away the beats of my heart . . . stopped still, never to go again . . . . Life is the Ghost of Christmas Future pointing to the place next to the fireplace where Tiny Tim's crutches stand.
Some Christians say death is our greatest missionary. They mean, of course, that people take a lively interest in their approaching deaths. Don't we all? Most people grow somber as they think about drawing their last breath. Some change the subject when we tell them this life is just a training camp for the next. Praise God! The redeemed may just smile at us and say, I'm looking forward to going home.
Jesus came that we might have life and have it more abundantly. He reminds us of the brevity of this life, but he points the way to eternal joy. He overcame death when he rose from the grave. When we place our faith in him, death need no longer frighten us. He shows us we were dead when he makes us alive. This doesn't change the sadness we feel about all the death and decay around us here and now. Many of us agonize over the blighting of God's perfect creation. We want to see something left for our posterity. More importantly, we have friendships begun on earth that will end at the grave because loved ones choose the wrong path.
A jarring thing happened this week. About a thousand people died in a ship crossing the Red Sea. Many had worked in Arabia. They anticipated reaching their own homes in a short time to rejoin their families. East or west, north or south, the heartache is still the same. In a few days the networks and newspapers will bury others in the spaces used for these deaths. The media will cover more timely things. The caravan of death is opaque at the front and translucent farther back, then it disappears. At the graveside a minister may intone, And now ________ belongs to the ages. This means nothing. It is the big eraser to help us get on with the living task of forgetting. Whether Christian or non-christian dearly departed, we survivors go on with the business of living. Question is, "Will it be the abundant life?" The answer depends upon our relationship with the Son of God. That's all that really matters.
One insurance co. has the slogan, Life comes at you fast. This fragile life also passes the same way. News reporters, trained to tell a story straight, without personal input or amendment, must sometimes violate this code of journalism. The tragedy seems too deep, the significance for society too shocking for any human being to endure it without comment. Reporters must demarcate the story from events of lesser impact. Though nothing really new may happen under the sun, things frequently strike us right where we live. What kind of reporter could calmly tell us about the World Trade Towers going down, or of Mt. St. Helens raining down destruction? Back in November of 1963 when Oswald shot and killed John F. Kennedy in Dallas, newspeople registered the grim news with stricken emotions. After the murder of Bobby Kennedy, I recall one benumbed anchor saying simply, Life is short. Who can argue with that?
We live for a handsbreadth of time; life is a brief candle. Life is a poor player who struts and frets his final hour upon the stage and then is heard no more (Shakespeare). Life is a vapor, the dew of the morning gone at noon, a shattered mirror, the other cessation of winter, the last leaf on a dead tree, goldengrove unleaving, a bulldozed home, the end of the line, sunrise/sunset/, the last playful move of a puppy grown old, a clock ticking away the beats of my heart . . . stopped still, never to go again . . . . Life is the Ghost of Christmas Future pointing to the place next to the fireplace where Tiny Tim's crutches stand.
Some Christians say death is our greatest missionary. They mean, of course, that people take a lively interest in their approaching deaths. Don't we all? Most people grow somber as they think about drawing their last breath. Some change the subject when we tell them this life is just a training camp for the next. Praise God! The redeemed may just smile at us and say, I'm looking forward to going home.
Jesus came that we might have life and have it more abundantly. He reminds us of the brevity of this life, but he points the way to eternal joy. He overcame death when he rose from the grave. When we place our faith in him, death need no longer frighten us. He shows us we were dead when he makes us alive. This doesn't change the sadness we feel about all the death and decay around us here and now. Many of us agonize over the blighting of God's perfect creation. We want to see something left for our posterity. More importantly, we have friendships begun on earth that will end at the grave because loved ones choose the wrong path.
A jarring thing happened this week. About a thousand people died in a ship crossing the Red Sea. Many had worked in Arabia. They anticipated reaching their own homes in a short time to rejoin their families. East or west, north or south, the heartache is still the same. In a few days the networks and newspapers will bury others in the spaces used for these deaths. The media will cover more timely things. The caravan of death is opaque at the front and translucent farther back, then it disappears. At the graveside a minister may intone, And now ________ belongs to the ages. This means nothing. It is the big eraser to help us get on with the living task of forgetting. Whether Christian or non-christian dearly departed, we survivors go on with the business of living. Question is, "Will it be the abundant life?" The answer depends upon our relationship with the Son of God. That's all that really matters.
posted by Don Daniels at
4:52 PM
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