A Hopeless Generation
Over the last three months, I've had four loved ones pass away. Three were
family members, and the other was my dear friend Lyman.
I love my family members who passed away, but I was probably closest to Lyman. We met every two or three weeks, and we would talk about...well...anything.
Lyman and I had many conversations. There is something cool about talking to someone almost 70 years older than you. You learn about how the world used to be. How culture has changed. How events shaped people. I learned a lot from Lyman.
But there's one thing I learned from Lyman that I think is more important than anything else: hope.
plastic hope
I've realized something about hope. We, as First World, modern Christians, have forgotten how to hope.
We hope the Tigers make the World Series.
We hope traffic isn't backed up.
We hope that lottery ticket will pay out.
We hope the flu shot will keep us healthy.
We hope...or maybe we are just crossing our fingers.
Perhaps we are, in reality, a hopeless generation.
Life used to be a lot different, not so long ago. They didn't have lottery tickets or flu shots. They didn't have electronic calendars and kids' sports events and insurance deadlines. Life was much different.
Perhaps biggest of all, they didn't have our current medical advances. Medication, sanitation, medical knowledge, it was all experimental at best and unintentionally fatal at worse. (Take, for instance, the human race's mixed relationship with lead.) Severe sickness often led to death. A mild case of pneumonia could be fatal. The average life expectancy was much lower than today.
Life was fragile and everyone knew it. There was no escaping death.
Life and death was a different experience back then. They had fewer things
in life to distract them from the reality of death. And I think that's what led
them to true hope. Christians hoped in the gospel. If they got deathly sick,
the knew Christ's blood would bring them face to face with him, and that they
would see loved ones who had gone before. Not that death was easy to accept,
even back then. But they had more opportunity to wrestle with hope and
experience peace. What else did they have to fall back on?
Today, previously fatal diseases can be largely treated. Antibiotics, sanitation practices, and many other developments have changed the playing field. My friend Lyman lived through the Penicillin revolution (an important antibiotic discovered in 1928) and was witness to its life changing impact. Medical advances have given us longer, healthier lives.
This is amazing! It truly is a blessing from God. Praise the Lord for medicine! It is good.
But, as usual, there's a tendency to mistreat God's good blessings. Treating sickness gives us the sense that we are in control. From over-the-counter drugs to experimental treatment, medical advances give us hope of recovery. We have the luxury of largely ignoring death most of the time. No one is forcing us to think about it. So we don't.
The hope of medicine has slowly replaced our hope of heaven. What's more, our comfort here has kept us from taking comfort in eternity. We do not feel the curse of death as acutely as people used to. In fact, we try to numb ourselves to its presence. For the first time in history, we are fairly talented at forgetting about death. As a result, we are not driven to true hope in Christ.
But inevitably, we will feel the curse. And it terrifies us. Try as we might, we can only hide so long from accidents, tragedy, and ultimately death itself.
The curse will catch up with you.
Lyman
Lyman's wife Kay passed away about a year and a half before he did. After she passed, there was an obvious shift in our conversations. Every time we talked after that, he told me he was ready to go home. Lyman was exercising hope.
In a way, it's all he had. By the time he passed away, his friends were mostly gone, as was his wife of almost 70 years. His family largely lived in other states, and he didn't get to see them much. His money had been sunk in his retirement, and actually ran out completely before Kay died. A couple months before he died, Lyman broke his arm. He couldn't walk with his walker, and was totally dependent on health workers to go to the bathroom or to eat dinner. He was in serious pain. He was exhausted. He just wanted to go home. Who could blame him?
The sweetest discussions I had with Lyman are when we talk about heaven. What will it really be like? His arm wouldn't be broke. He wouldn't be confined to a walker. He wouldn't be stuck in an assisted living facility. The pain, sorrow and death would be gone. But that wasn't all. Kay was going to be there. So were his parents, his brother, and all of his loved ones. Most of all, though, Jesus was there. What did he look like in his glory? What would it feel like to see him? How beautiful are the angels' songs that give him praise? These thoughts of hope helped Lyman look beyond his current situation and brought the future reality into view. He is Christ's and Christ is his. We would be made new soon.
At the end of this life, Lyman was ready to go to his heavenly home. He had prepared himself with hope.
running from death
The rest of us have moments when we feel the curse. We have a friend who takes an overnight trip to the ER. We drive by a serious accident on the highway. It can even be as trivial as getting frustrated with a broken dishwasher. All of this stems from the curse. Life doesn't work like it was meant to. And it frustrates us. We want something better. We want a life where things work. This isn't the way the world was meant to be.
But we anesthetize ourselves to our groaning for another world. When the reality of pain, death, suffering, lost come, we cling to the comforts of this world. We numb the pain. We, along with the rest of society, want to ignore the curse.
But it refuses to be ignored. And ultimately the curse overcomes us in death. We can't escape, and deep inside, we know it.
courage
There are many courageous people in the world. Some of the most courageous, I think, are those who accept death as it stares them in the eyes. As Christians, we stand beside Christ as we look death straight in the face. He is there with us. In that moment, he gives strength and courage.
In this moment of courage, the dwarf Gimli points out, "The sun is rising," and suddenly Aragorn remembers Gandolf's promise to return. With this newfound sense of courage, the heroes ride out to battle the enemy armies, and Gandolf appears at the last moment to overwhelm the enemy.
(This short scene from the movie is totally worth watching...)
I can't watch this scene without getting choked up. This is exactly what Christ does for us. If you have been on this earth long, you know you will reach points in life where you feel overwhelmed. Maybe a loved one dies. Maybe your child is in the ER and you feel powerless. In the midst of feelings of defeat and helplessness, we have a choice. A choice to break down under the weight of the curse, or to stand up with the promises of God we know to be true. If we will let him, Christ will empower us to go out and battle with courage. And in the midst of the battle, he reveals himself to us. He appears to us, and battles alongside us. He gives us strength to carry on, if we will only choose to face our problems with him.
Each day. Each moment. We must choose again to remember God's promises, to fight expecting him to show up at our side. And we begin to see God's glory revealed in a new way. He is Sustainer. He is our Commander. We can trust him because he is Noble, and Courageous, and Honorable.
He is Good.
Death, whether literal or figurative, is not something to fear. Death is something to accept with courage. Something to live in light of. Something that is meant to drive us to God, to courage, and to hope.
Nora
A dear lady at my church passed away early last year. Her name was Nora Bradshaw. I met her a few times, and she was an amazing person. I have a few friends who were very close to her, and they say the same thing. She was an incredible person.
When she found out she had terminal cancer, she chose to have hope. And she had a chance to talk about death. Her perspective was life changing. I'm not kidding. The pastor interviewed her one Sunday morning a several weeks before she passed, and it was profound. Truly. She faced death with courage. I can only pray God gives me the grace to die with the grace He gave to her.
If you want to hear what hope sounds like from someone who has it, listen to Nora talk on a news interview about her imminent death. (If all I do is point you to this interview, it will be worth it. I promise.)
choosing hope
Death sucks. It's terrible. It's awful. But God has provided his children passage through it. Christ has overcome the grave. We do not need to be afraid of death. Nor should we avoid it. Death gives hope an opportunity to shape us, to change us. It's a long, hard process, and--let's be honest--it will only happen in God's timing.
When you are faced with a season of death, my prayer for you is that you allow the Gospel to shape you. Don't run away from death's reality. Face it head-on, filled with the Holy Spirit and with Jesus at your side.
Never lose sight of the ugliness of death. Never lose sight of the Goodness of God.
Preach hope to yourself. Fill your heart with Scripture that points you to Christ's presence. Fill your life with people who point you toward heaven.
Let God fill you with hope.
Hope helps us be courageous in the face of death, not afraid. Hope gives us peace, not anxiety. Hope takes root in us and spreads its fruit to others. Hope transforms.
Don't dull the pain of the curse. When you experience it, lean into it. Embrace it. Let it drive you to the arms of your Heavenly Father. And let him comfort you with his presence and his promises.
Have hope. Because this life is just the beginning of eternity.
Romans 15:13 - "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope."
other passages of hope
Romans 5:1-5
Romans 8:18-30
Ephesians 1:16-23
Philippians 1:20-21
I Thessalonians 4:13-18
I Peter 1:13
I Peter 3:15
I John 3:1-3
I love my family members who passed away, but I was probably closest to Lyman. We met every two or three weeks, and we would talk about...well...anything.
Lyman and I had many conversations. There is something cool about talking to someone almost 70 years older than you. You learn about how the world used to be. How culture has changed. How events shaped people. I learned a lot from Lyman.
But there's one thing I learned from Lyman that I think is more important than anything else: hope.
plastic hope
I've realized something about hope. We, as First World, modern Christians, have forgotten how to hope.
We hope the Tigers make the World Series.
We hope traffic isn't backed up.
We hope that lottery ticket will pay out.
We hope the flu shot will keep us healthy.
We hope...or maybe we are just crossing our fingers.
Perhaps we are, in reality, a hopeless generation.
Life used to be a lot different, not so long ago. They didn't have lottery tickets or flu shots. They didn't have electronic calendars and kids' sports events and insurance deadlines. Life was much different.
Perhaps biggest of all, they didn't have our current medical advances. Medication, sanitation, medical knowledge, it was all experimental at best and unintentionally fatal at worse. (Take, for instance, the human race's mixed relationship with lead.) Severe sickness often led to death. A mild case of pneumonia could be fatal. The average life expectancy was much lower than today.
Life was fragile and everyone knew it. There was no escaping death.
Life and death was a different experience back then. They had fewer things
in life to distract them from the reality of death. And I think that's what led
them to true hope. Christians hoped in the gospel. If they got deathly sick,
the knew Christ's blood would bring them face to face with him, and that they
would see loved ones who had gone before. Not that death was easy to accept,
even back then. But they had more opportunity to wrestle with hope and
experience peace. What else did they have to fall back on?Today, previously fatal diseases can be largely treated. Antibiotics, sanitation practices, and many other developments have changed the playing field. My friend Lyman lived through the Penicillin revolution (an important antibiotic discovered in 1928) and was witness to its life changing impact. Medical advances have given us longer, healthier lives.
This is amazing! It truly is a blessing from God. Praise the Lord for medicine! It is good.
But, as usual, there's a tendency to mistreat God's good blessings. Treating sickness gives us the sense that we are in control. From over-the-counter drugs to experimental treatment, medical advances give us hope of recovery. We have the luxury of largely ignoring death most of the time. No one is forcing us to think about it. So we don't.
The hope of medicine has slowly replaced our hope of heaven. What's more, our comfort here has kept us from taking comfort in eternity. We do not feel the curse of death as acutely as people used to. In fact, we try to numb ourselves to its presence. For the first time in history, we are fairly talented at forgetting about death. As a result, we are not driven to true hope in Christ.
But inevitably, we will feel the curse. And it terrifies us. Try as we might, we can only hide so long from accidents, tragedy, and ultimately death itself.
The curse will catch up with you.
Lyman
Lyman's wife Kay passed away about a year and a half before he did. After she passed, there was an obvious shift in our conversations. Every time we talked after that, he told me he was ready to go home. Lyman was exercising hope.
In a way, it's all he had. By the time he passed away, his friends were mostly gone, as was his wife of almost 70 years. His family largely lived in other states, and he didn't get to see them much. His money had been sunk in his retirement, and actually ran out completely before Kay died. A couple months before he died, Lyman broke his arm. He couldn't walk with his walker, and was totally dependent on health workers to go to the bathroom or to eat dinner. He was in serious pain. He was exhausted. He just wanted to go home. Who could blame him?
The sweetest discussions I had with Lyman are when we talk about heaven. What will it really be like? His arm wouldn't be broke. He wouldn't be confined to a walker. He wouldn't be stuck in an assisted living facility. The pain, sorrow and death would be gone. But that wasn't all. Kay was going to be there. So were his parents, his brother, and all of his loved ones. Most of all, though, Jesus was there. What did he look like in his glory? What would it feel like to see him? How beautiful are the angels' songs that give him praise? These thoughts of hope helped Lyman look beyond his current situation and brought the future reality into view. He is Christ's and Christ is his. We would be made new soon.
At the end of this life, Lyman was ready to go to his heavenly home. He had prepared himself with hope.
running from death
The rest of us have moments when we feel the curse. We have a friend who takes an overnight trip to the ER. We drive by a serious accident on the highway. It can even be as trivial as getting frustrated with a broken dishwasher. All of this stems from the curse. Life doesn't work like it was meant to. And it frustrates us. We want something better. We want a life where things work. This isn't the way the world was meant to be.
But we anesthetize ourselves to our groaning for another world. When the reality of pain, death, suffering, lost come, we cling to the comforts of this world. We numb the pain. We, along with the rest of society, want to ignore the curse.
But it refuses to be ignored. And ultimately the curse overcomes us in death. We can't escape, and deep inside, we know it.
courage
There are many courageous people in the world. Some of the most courageous, I think, are those who accept death as it stares them in the eyes. As Christians, we stand beside Christ as we look death straight in the face. He is there with us. In that moment, he gives strength and courage.
One of the clearest metaphors for this comes from an all-time favorite movie
of mine, Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. Perhaps you remember the Battle of Helm's Deep,
where the humans are surrounded by countless Orc armies. It's just a matter of
time before they are overwhelmed and the city is lost. Fear is thick in the
air. There are no options left. Théodenis overcome with futility and says,
"So much death....What can men do against such reckless hate?" Aragorn, who has
been making arrangements to save the women and children, responds with a stroke
of courage, "Ride out with me. Ride out and meet them."
In this moment of courage, the dwarf Gimli points out, "The sun is rising," and suddenly Aragorn remembers Gandolf's promise to return. With this newfound sense of courage, the heroes ride out to battle the enemy armies, and Gandolf appears at the last moment to overwhelm the enemy.
(This short scene from the movie is totally worth watching...)
I can't watch this scene without getting choked up. This is exactly what Christ does for us. If you have been on this earth long, you know you will reach points in life where you feel overwhelmed. Maybe a loved one dies. Maybe your child is in the ER and you feel powerless. In the midst of feelings of defeat and helplessness, we have a choice. A choice to break down under the weight of the curse, or to stand up with the promises of God we know to be true. If we will let him, Christ will empower us to go out and battle with courage. And in the midst of the battle, he reveals himself to us. He appears to us, and battles alongside us. He gives us strength to carry on, if we will only choose to face our problems with him.
Each day. Each moment. We must choose again to remember God's promises, to fight expecting him to show up at our side. And we begin to see God's glory revealed in a new way. He is Sustainer. He is our Commander. We can trust him because he is Noble, and Courageous, and Honorable.
He is Good.
Death, whether literal or figurative, is not something to fear. Death is something to accept with courage. Something to live in light of. Something that is meant to drive us to God, to courage, and to hope.
Nora
A dear lady at my church passed away early last year. Her name was Nora Bradshaw. I met her a few times, and she was an amazing person. I have a few friends who were very close to her, and they say the same thing. She was an incredible person.
When she found out she had terminal cancer, she chose to have hope. And she had a chance to talk about death. Her perspective was life changing. I'm not kidding. The pastor interviewed her one Sunday morning a several weeks before she passed, and it was profound. Truly. She faced death with courage. I can only pray God gives me the grace to die with the grace He gave to her.
If you want to hear what hope sounds like from someone who has it, listen to Nora talk on a news interview about her imminent death. (If all I do is point you to this interview, it will be worth it. I promise.)
choosing hope
Death sucks. It's terrible. It's awful. But God has provided his children passage through it. Christ has overcome the grave. We do not need to be afraid of death. Nor should we avoid it. Death gives hope an opportunity to shape us, to change us. It's a long, hard process, and--let's be honest--it will only happen in God's timing.
When you are faced with a season of death, my prayer for you is that you allow the Gospel to shape you. Don't run away from death's reality. Face it head-on, filled with the Holy Spirit and with Jesus at your side.
Never lose sight of the ugliness of death. Never lose sight of the Goodness of God.
Preach hope to yourself. Fill your heart with Scripture that points you to Christ's presence. Fill your life with people who point you toward heaven.
Let God fill you with hope.
Hope helps us be courageous in the face of death, not afraid. Hope gives us peace, not anxiety. Hope takes root in us and spreads its fruit to others. Hope transforms.
Don't dull the pain of the curse. When you experience it, lean into it. Embrace it. Let it drive you to the arms of your Heavenly Father. And let him comfort you with his presence and his promises.
Have hope. Because this life is just the beginning of eternity.
Romans 15:13 - "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope."
other passages of hope
Romans 5:1-5
Romans 8:18-30
Ephesians 1:16-23
Philippians 1:20-21
I Thessalonians 4:13-18
I Peter 1:13
I Peter 3:15
I John 3:1-3
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