Firm Hope

There's something different about a Christian's funeral.

There's hope, laughter, the freedom to enjoy the person's life.  There's a sense of 'this is as it should be' even when the loss is heartwrenching.

Mo was one of our pastors.  Not ordained at our church, but a pastor nonetheless.  He took time to really 'do church', which in our success-driven suburb was a breath of fresh air, sweeping through the dusty housing plans bringing the reminder of a life well-lived.  He had been sick for a while and knew that this might be his time.  He welcomed death with open arms, looking forward to being fully present with his Savior.

So many parts of this story scream 'wrong!' - he was only 53, leaving behind a young wife and doing beautiful ministry.  And yet, he was content to greet death with a smile.  His wife told me yesterday that he had been looking forward to this for years.  Mo was a man who lived with a firm belief that this world was not his home.  That firm belief gave him boldness to ask deep questions, good reason to meet with men early on Saturday morning for Bible study and a joy that surpassed the circumstances.

I drove home last night wondering about firm belief.  I wondered what it would take to get folks out of their comfortable lives and into something itchy, something that demanded action and movement.  I wondered if I am living out my firm hope in God's redeeming power.  And I sat in awe at a God that would use beat up broken people to do His work in this world.

JB