Merryn and I spent this past weekend with a couple who are becoming really good friends. We talked and ate and prayed and watched DVDs with Mike and Rachel—and just had a great couple of days. But the weekend was tinged with sadness. Mike and Rachel will soon board a plane to fly interstate to spend time with family, because Rachel’s brother was recently diagnosed with a rare form of cancer. The doctor’s say it’s incurable. He’s just 33 years old.
Rachel recounted the story to us of her brother’s medical examinations, the specialist’s reports and then the final diagnosis. She told us about the family’s response, the grief, and the tears. But when she shared how she was coping spiritually through it all, I was quite overwhelmed at how rich her faith was.
‘We as a family have had a pretty trouble-free existence so far,’ Rachel said. ‘Others have faced horrible trials. Why should we be spared pain? This is our family’s opportunity to prove our faith. If it can’t be proven now, when can it be?’
‘I haven’t experienced any anger at God—not yet anyway,’ Rachel continued. ‘How can I say Cameron’s cancer is unfair? God has been more than fair to us. He’s been more than fair to all of us, forgiving us when he wasn’t obliged to.’
Something special happened the day after Rachel heard of her brother’s diagnosis. In the previous days she’d been reading through the book of John in the Bible, and the very next paragraph to be read turned out to be the words of Jesus talking to his disciples: ‘In my Father's house are many rooms,’ he says to them in the fourteenth chapter. ‘I am going there to prepare a place for you’ (John 14:2).
Strangely, Rachel found immense comfort in these words. She knows that God can—and may—heal her brother miraculously through prayer. She knows that God may heal him unspectacularly through medical means. But Rachel also knows that she may lose Cameron. And while she’d do anything—give her own bone marrow if need be—to have him live, losing Cameron is ultimately not a problem. Because Rachel has a big view of life. She knows that this world is not all there is. There is a bigger reality—an afterlife. And she knows that her brother’s faith in Jesus will carry him there.
It could be argued that previous generations were, as the phrase goes, ‘Too heavenly minded to be of no earthly use’. But I wonder if our generation is so earthly minded that we have no heavenly hope. As the band Caedmon’s call sing:
This world has nothing for me, and this world has everything.
All that I could want, and nothing that I need.
There’s a place being prepared for those who cling to the Man from Nazareth. And that truth can put this life in perspective, both for those who suffer and for those care.
© 2007 Sheridan Voysey is a writer, speaker, broadcaster and author of Unseen Footprints: Encountering the divine along the journey of life (Scripture Union, 2005). www.thethoughtfactory.net
Comments (1)
In my Maori culture although it is very pagan, death is not understood in terms of finallity but rather a transition to another world, the heavns for example. I'm a Christian so I don't hold that position because it cannot work or make sense. if you visit a Maori meeting of some kind you will notice the speakers will always address those who have gone before us as if they were still around. At a Maori funeral service it usually lasts up to 3 days where relatives and friends from many places will visit the deceased person's body which lies in state on the traditional ground of a particular tribal group. The grief is handled by the tribe and the community of friend over the period of three days. Many relationships are forged here and many are renewed but the grief is always dealt with tribally.
The Christian idea of death is similar in that is it not portrayed as the end either but involves a transition to another realm like the maori pagan idea which I'm sure came from the Bible but got lost and distorted along the way.
When my wife and I were having all our children we would always say to each other, come what may it fits the universe that is. If we happen to have a deformed child for instance, despite the obvious hardship that can accompany such situations our opinion was that it could not have been born unless it fitted the universe that is. When my wife reached 40 out three youngest children weren't born. When you reach this age for some reason the medical fraternity are a little more concerned about the possibilty of problems. To combat this possibility the carry out more testing on older patients and also encourage them to have tests on the spine which can be very stressful. if in the event they discover potential problems they will encourgae the mother to lose the feotus. My wife and I decided aginst these test because of our opinion and our faith that we do not live in a chance universe but in a system where God is and where He speaks into his creation continually. paul would say, "O death where is your sting, O grave where is your victory." For Paul life was not just isolated events here and there. Life was part of a flow, a biblical flow that humanity can trace. So for paul death meant being in the presence of God albeit without his body which would be ressurrected at a later date which Paul understood.
I lost my Mum 4 years ago in New Zealand but I was the last person she communicated with. When I arrived in New Zealand at her funeral, my family and tribe asked me what I said to our Mum as they were aware I was the last person to speak with her. I said this, "Only Jesus Mum Only Jesus, I'll talk to you when I get there ok." My dad told me later, that they could hear what I had said to her. He also told me that mum was saying and gesturing in total aggreement with me.
How good is God? When I see Him i shall know him because I shall see him as he is.
Can't wait but have many I would like to bring along. All of Sydney and Australia to begin with.
Posted by Hona Wikeepa | July 27, 2007 5:43 PM
Posted on July 27, 2007 17:43