New Church Walls

Life… and death

This past weekend I got a phone call informing me that my cousin died. She didn’t pass on, she wasn’t whisked away by angels. She died.

I’ve thought about death for some time. It isn’t nice. Nothing about it is beautiful. Even the smile that we often see upon the lips of the recently departed isn’t all that beautiful.

My cousin (Krista Dekker) died from complications of a genetic disorder (Huntington’s Chorea) that affects my mom’s entire family.

Recently the Globe and Mail had an excellent article on the subject. Huntington’s took Krista’s mom from life to death almost 18 years ago. Another aunt is currently suffering from this debilitating, wasting disease.

I don’t know if I have it or not. Or will experience the debilitating effects of it. Or if my children will have it. I talk about it and I believe I’m okay with it.

This week I remember back 3 years ago to the first funeral I conducted for one of my parishioners. I had just moved to the church 4 weeks before and was in the midst of preparing for my classis examination before ordination. Two years ago I was leading a memorial service for a man who died of cancer. He fought a courageous battle! And he taught me much about life… and death. In fact, throughout the entire dying process he did more pastoral care for me than I was able to do for him! Talk about switching roles.

The memorial service was held on a Sunday evening, which was also part of our Reformation Day service. Which fit this man’s life and the text he chose. Romans 8:28 says, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

Where is the good in cancer. Or heart failure. Or Huntington’s.

There is no good in any of them. It is part of a sin-filled world. It is where we live and breath and have our being. It is part of life on earth.

But in death, good is being worked. Whether it is for the cure of a disease like Huntington’s or cancer. Or in the fact that a relative has to face the tough questions of life. Do I believe in a God? Do I believe in a Saviour, Jesus Christ, like Pier or Krista or Herman?

Each of these people whom I remember on this day, as well as my Oma (Oma would have had a birthday last week) and Opa. I remember them in their life and in their death. But I also remember their faith. Which was strong! In the midst of pain and suffering they held their chins high and praised their Maker, Lord, and Comforter.

With a quivering chin, I do the same. Death isn’t beautiful! It’s cruel and painful and ugly! That will never change… until Christ returns to put death and suffering and crying and pain away… for good! Come Lord Jesus, come quickly!

On Thursday I will attend a funeral, they call it a celebration life ceremony. Yes it will be that. But I won’t celebrate Krista’s life on earth. I will celebrate her eternal life that she now experiences with her mom, Jenny, her Opa and Oma, Henk and Ali, and with multitudes who have gone on before her. Who now join together to cheer us on in our race… not for death, but to eternal life.

May God give strength to those who are facing death. Die with a chin held high, prasing your Maker and Sustainer and Saviour.

May God comfort those who grieve the loss of a loved one. Especially those who are lost emotionally or spiritually, since they are still physically with us, but have rejected God.

May we ultimately never forget that we are not our own, but we were bought with a price, the blood of Jesus Christ. And we are here on this earth becuase of the gift of life He gives to us. For He equips us with the Spirit to do good works of service. To give thanks to Him for life, eternal life. May we give praise and thanks to our Saviour for all He has done for us and our loved ones.