The COVID-19 pandemic surprised us in ways that we never would have imagined just six weeks ago. I read recently this statement that pretty much summarizes what has happened to us, “I don’t think anyone expected that when we changed clocks on March 8 that we’d go from standard time to the Twilight Zone.”
When I first heard about about the Coronavirus, it sounded like a pretty serious issue, but I thought the worst that might happen would be similar to our experiences with the SARS, Bird Flu, Ecoli, Swine Flu and Zika viruses in the past. They had a serious impact on some, but didn’t really affect most of us. In the early days of the threat I heard many who thought it wasn’t that serious or wouldn’t last very long. Boy, were we all wrong!
Slowing down and reflecting
One of the things that this has caused many to do is slow down and reflect on our lives. Perhaps we don’t take work, gathering with others, ready accessibility of food and products so much for granted like before. I certainly don’t. It has provided a pause to consider what is really valuable to us.
In my slackened pace I have also pondered something that I mostly tend to ignore. I am not normally a morbid person. I do not think about getting sick and dying very often. But, since this virus has come around, I have, and maybe you have also, considered death a little more seriously. It has brought the possibility a lot closer to our doorstep. Maybe, like me, you’ve thought, “What if I get sick and even die?” We hear about that happening to others all around us.
We have access to daily reports about the numbers of people who have contracted the disease and died, not only world wide, nation wide, but right in our own communities. This is all pretty remarkable since few of us had hardly even heard of this virus just two to three months ago.
Death has touched all of us, more so as we get older. As a youngster I rarely thought about it, though I was shocked when a high school friend was killed in an accident. Over the years I’ve lost parents, parents-in-law, two sisters, aunts, uncles, nephews, cousins, and some friends. When I was a pastor I had to deal with death much more than I wanted, having conducted many funerals—from infants to the elderly. All these affected me to one degree or another.
A death that impacted me greatly
There was one death that especially impacted me when I was 32 years old. He was a good friend of mine, the same age as me. I met Ray when I took a staff position at a church in Texas, right after I’d finished seminary. He also served as a part time staff member for this church while completing his final two years of seminary training. He and his wife became good friends of ours. They had two young boys and we had a child about the same age as theirs. We spent time together and, as couples, even traded off babysitting for each other for special dates.
Ray had an attractive personality and was a dynamic leader. He impacted many around him. I marveled how he could connect with people and influence them for Jesus. I expected nothing less than that God would greatly use him throughout his life.
Our friendship grew over the two years that he was finishing his schooling and I was serving at the church. During the last semester of his fourth year of seminary Ray started feeling bad physically. He went to doctors who tried to discover what was going on, but they had difficulty determining exactly what it was. Then, after weeks of tests, the reason was finally pinpointed. He found out he had cancer on the very day he graduated from seminary!
This was shocking on several levels. After finishing four years of grueling study, instead of stepping into full time ministry which he had worked so hard to attain, he now had to fight his illness. They had little money while going through school, but now he could not work and had no source of steady income. Perhaps the most devastating thing of all, though, was that on the day he graduated, the day that he that he was diagnosed with cancer, the student health insurance policy which he had also expired!
I was deeply impressed how the church rallied around Ray and his family. Over the next several months they did all they could to provide help and finances to get him and his family through this ordeal. Further, a teaching hospital in Dallas took him on as a special case to treat his cancer using experimental procedures. But they did not work. Ray got progressively worse. The effects of the treatments were devastating. He lost his energy and strength to the point that he couldn’t even walk. He was nauseous most of the time. Over the months he lost an alarming amount of weight along with all of his hair. In late fall of that year, I would often sit with him while he was in the hospital. Before this he always had a lot to say, but now he was so weak and sick that all he could do was lay there. He wouldn’t even respond to my questions. I could only sit with him in silence. I hoped that my presence was some source of comfort to him.
“I feel sorry for you!”
The cancer progressed to the point that the doctors finally said they could do nothing else and they sent him home. I remember the last time I saw him. I went to visit him in the small apartment where they lived. It was December 23, 1983. Sharon and I were leaving the next day to visit family for Christmas, and right after that we were moving to South Carolina.
He was lying on his couch when I walked in the door. He still was so weak that he could not raise himself. His body was emaciated. He weighed maybe 125 lbs. He had no hair on his head, no eyebrows, no facial hair. He looked like a skeleton. He was so still that I wondered if he was even alive. But this time, unlike the previous times in the hospital when I visited him, he was alert and talkative. And, when I sat down near him I was dumbstruck as I looked into his face.
It was because of his eyes. They were dark brown, but not before or since then have I ever seen such a light and brightness emanate from any person’s eyes. They literally glowed with hope and expectation. He and I both knew he was dying, yet he spoke with joy and eager anticipation about his soon departure to be forever with his beloved Savior and Friend, Jesus.
He and I both acknowledged that this was the last time that we would see each other on this earth. We discussed my move to help start a new church, something I was excited about and that he was excited about for me. As we came to the end of our talk he stunned me with words I will never forget.
With those glowing eyes penetrating mine he said, “I feel sorry for you!”
Shocked, I couldn’t say anything for a minute. His situation and mine stood in stark contrast. He lay on his death bed. I was in great health. I had a young and growing family, and he was leaving his young family behind. I was beginning a new chapter of life and ministry, just like Ray anticipated doing a few months before but would never realize.
Finally, I responded, “You feel sorry for me! Why?”
He explained to me, “I feel sorry for you because I get to go Home, and you have to stay here.” I’ll never forget those words and that look in his eyes.
Two days later, on Christmas morning, Ray died in the arms of his loving wife, and he got to go Home.
The Coronavirus has made me think a little more about death recently. It has reminded me of those I’ve known and loved who have passed on. It’s reminded me of Ray, who lay dying, and told me he felt sorry for me.
I feel like Ray went too soon. But, he didn’t feel that way.
The most important issue to settle
The reality is, I am going to die. You are going to die. Everyone is going to die, unless Jesus returns before our earthly life is over. It may be soon, or it may be many years from now. But death awaits us all.
In light of this grim reality, I believe that the the most important issue that needs to be settled in this life is our destiny for the next life.
When the Coronavirus broke out, my colleague, Mike Downey, reminded us that we all have contracted a deadly virus that is going to kill us. Every person has it and it is 100% fatal. That virus is what God calls sin. Everyone has sinned against God (Romans 3:23) and “the wages of sin is death.” (Romans 6:23).
There is a cure, however: “God made him (Jesus) who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” 2 Corinthians 5:21 (NIV). Jesus is the antidote. He took my sin/your sin on himself—he became our sin—so that if we take the cure—complete trust in him to be our sin forgiver—we might become right (righteous) before God. This is the greatest trade deal ever offered: He takes my sin and gives me his righteousness.
I am so glad for Jesus’ promise: “I am the resurrection and the life. Anyone who believes in me will live, even after dying. Everyone who lives in me and believes in me will never die.” (John 11:25-26 NLT).
One of my mentors (and Ray’s), Prof Howard Hendricks, told us, “Most people think we are in the land of the living headed to the land of the dying. The fact is, for those of us who know Christ, we are in the land of the dying headed to the land of the living.”
Ray felt sorry for me because I had to stay in the land of the dying and he got to go on Home. But I’m only here for a while. Though he got there sooner, sometime I will join him to be with Jesus, and a lot of other friends and relatives. It may be soon or it still may be years from now. It might be because of the Coronavirus or something else. But, it’s going to happen, and then I will look into Ray’s glowing eyes once again and we will both be glad we’re Home.
I hope I’ll see you there, too! I hope that, along with Ray, you have an eager expectation of going Home because you have taken the cure for your sin virus—complete reliance on Jesus for your forgiveness and eternal life.
If you aren’t really sure if you will go Home to be with Jesus after this life, I would like to discuss it with you. Please contact me at info@vandeburghjourney.com.
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