I know he lives

“Why do you look for the living among the dead?  He is not here; he has risen!” (Luke 24:5&6).  Those were the words of the angel to the women who had gone to Jesus’ tomb, expecting to anoint his body with spices.  The women were the first to discover the astounding truth that Jesus had risen from the dead!  Luke tells us that when the women then went to tell the disciples what they had discovered, ‘they did not believe the women, because their words seemed to them like nonsense’ (Luke 24:11).  Typical men!  (Incidentally, if someone had made up the resurrection story – as has sometimes been claimed - they would hardly have made the women the first witnesses, as a woman’s testimony was not regarded as valid in that society).

Yet the doubting disciples came to believe that this miraculous, hard-to-believe statement, that Jesus had risen from the dead, was true.  They met him forthemselves.  And now, billions of people around the world have come to believe that Jesus is alive.  

So what does it all mean for us today?  In my Easter sermons I used the following acrostic to give some responses to that question:

Eternal Life: John 3:16, ‘God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not die but have eternal life.’

Amazing sacrifice: Romans 3:25, ‘God offered him [Jesus], so that by his blood he should become the means by which people's sins are forgiven through their faith in him.’

Saving Grace: Romans 3:23&24, ‘everyone has sinned and is far away from God's saving presence.  But by the free gift of God's grace all are put right with him through Christ Jesus, who sets them free.’

Thankful hearts: Hebrews 12:28, ‘Let us be thankful, because we receive a kingdom that cannot be shaken. Let us be grateful and worship God in a way that will please him, with reverence and awe.’

Endless love: Romans 8:39, ‘There is nothing in all creation that will ever be able to separate us from the love of God which is ours through Christ Jesus our Lord.’

Resurrection hope: 1 Peter 1:3&4, ^‘Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you.’

Last week I returned to the little Methodist Church which was my home church during my early years.  That building holds so many memories, but one is particularly special.  When I was 5 years old, it was on a certain Sunday morning after church that I knelt down on the stairs at home and invited Jesus into my life.  Thus began a lifelong journey with him.  In the good times and the tough times he has always been with me.  Our relationship hasn’t always felt close, but I know that he has never left my side.  He is my best friend, as well as my Lord and Saviour.  I owe everything to him.

I believe that there is compelling evidence for the resurrection. But I want to finish this blog with the chorus of an old song; it may be rather subjective, but I love these words:

He lives, He lives, Christ Jesus lives today!
He walks with me and He talks with me
Along life's narrow way.
He lives, He live, salvation to impart!
You ask me how I know He lives:
He lives within my heart.

Recognising potential

In my last blog entry, I mentioned that Sue and I were arranging an informal service of thanksgiving for Sue’s mum in the church in East Yorkshire which she had regularly attended for many years.  We felt that it would be a good opportunity for some of her friends to get together, share memories of Rita, and give thanks for her life.  As it turned out, the opportunity was much appreciated by those who were there.

It was a rather strange experience for me, as the service took place in the village where I was brought up and in the church to which my family and I belonged for many years.  I took the opportunity while I was there to wander round the church building; so many memories flooded into my mind from my childhood and teenage years.  As I was wandering round the building I noticed a poster highlighting a campaign to save the now abandoned village school from demolition.

Despite the fact that I cried all the way to school on my first day, my memories of that infant school are almost all good ones; I loved my time there; even school meals were great (my favourites were Lancashire Hotpot, and jam sponge with pink custard!)  I do remember, though, that the boys toilets were separate from the main building, and they didn’t have a roof (not very pleasant on freezing cold, wet or snowy days!)

One of the ladies at Rita’s thanksgiving service happened to be one of my former teachers at the village school (and yes, she did tell everyone how she remembers me in short trousers!)  She greeted me like a long lost son, and was obviously proud of her part in my development.  However, one memory which she didn’t bring up was the fact that in my final year at infant school she informed my parents that in her opinion I had no chance of passing my 11+ exam; I didn’t feel that it would have been appropriate to remind her that I went on to prove her wrong!  Apparently at that point in time she didn’t see much potential in the little boy she taught.

I was fascinated to read this week that when Justin Welby, the new Archbishop of Canterbury, first applied to become an Anglican minister, he was told by his bishop, “There is no place for you in the Church of England.  I have interviewed a thousand for ordination, and you don’t come in the top thousand.”  The bishop saw little or no potential in the young man before him; thank God someone else did!

It can be very easy to make judgements based on surface appearances.  God reminded the Old Testament prophet Samuel of the error of that way of making judgements: ‘God doesn't look at things like humans do. Humans see only what is visible to the eyes, but the LORD sees into the heart.’  How wonderful that God sees great potential in every human being – even in me and you!

Don't leave it until it's too late

Earlier today I took the funeral service of my late mother-in-law, Rita.  Later in the week I will be leading an informal service of thanksgiving for Rita in her home church in East Yorkshire, so that her friends there will have the opportunity to give thanks for Rita’s life and to share memories of her.  Rita had only been here in Leicester a few months; the people attending today's service were mainly family members, plus a couple of close family friends and two people from the Care Home where Rita spent the final few months of her life.

Since Rita’s death, Sue has received quite a number of condolences cards.  Some of them spoke very warmly of Rita, and I decided that it was appropriate to read out at today’s service some of the things which people had written about her.  Phrases like “lovely lady”, “helpful and happy”, “always smiling and friendly”, “made us so welcome”, “a good listener” etc. made it clear that she was very well thought of by many people.  As I read the messages on the cards, I wondered whether Rita actually knew how much she was appreciated.

 

This thought was perhaps prompted by a service of thanksgiving which I attended last week.  It was a thanksgiving service for a very popular member of one of our local Methodist churches.  He was a very active and much appreciated man, who died very suddenly.  The church where the service was held was packed, as was an overflow hall.  The gentleman concerned had three sons, and each in turn spoke in a heartfelt and moving way of their memories of their dad.  As one of the sons came towards the end of his speech, he expressed the regret that he never really took the opportunity to tell his dad how much his dad meant to him.  I have been pondering that thought ever since, not least because I could probably say the same about my own dad, who died many years ago.

It is so easy to believe that those people we love or appreciate know how much we love them or appreciate them.  How much better to make sure they know, by telling them!  There are lots of ways we can express love or appreciation: words, flowers, gifts, in written form etc.  Perhaps the most important thing is not the means, but the message itself.  As for me, I want to make it a rule of my life not to be slow to let those people I love know that I love them, and to let all those people I appreciate know what I feel about them.  I don’t want to live with the regret that I left it until it was too late.

Goodbye Rita

In the very early hours of yesterday morning my mother-in-law, Rita, passed from this earthly life at the age of 87.  Although it would probably be wrong to describe the death of a loved as easy, we cannot be too sad because for some time Rita has expressed her feeling that she had lived her earthly life and was ready to move on to the next life.

Rita experienced various health issues over recent years.  We had a phone call last Saturday evening to say that she had been taken by ambulance into the Leicester Royal Infirmary A&E department.  When Sue and I arrived, it was clear that she was experiencing significant breathing difficulties.  She didn’t particularly appreciate the treatment which she was given, even though it was for her own good, and can’t have been the easiest of patients to deal with.  However, the nursing staff were amazingly patient and caring with her; I can’t praise them highly enough.  To respond to patients in such a way in a very busy and pressurised situation speaks volumes for the dedication of the nursing staff.

After a few hours, Rita was transferred to the Glenfield Hospital.  She had developed a very severe chest infection and other complications, and it eventually became clear that she was not going to recover.  After discussions between Sue and the hospital staff, it was decided that the most appropriate course of action was to place Rita on what is known as the Liverpool Care Pathway; in other words to keep her as comfortable as possible as her earthly life drew to a close.

Sue spent much of the next 3 days with her mum, sometimes along with other family members.  It was a trying and tiring time, but Sue felt that it was right that we do our best to make sure that Rita had at least one family member with her at all times.  Even if I do say so myself, Sue’s devotion to her mum, not only in recent days but over many years, has been tremendous.  As an only child, Sue has born a heavy responsibility with great love and devotion.

On the whole, the quality of support from the medical staff has been excellent.  There were a few nurses, however, whose approach left quite a lot to be desired; they seemed rather disinterested in both patients and families, and were somewhat off-hand when asked for help.  In a difficult situation like the one we have faced as a family this week, the care and support (or lack of it) from others can have a huge impact on one’s experience.  We were so grateful for those nurses and other staff who demonstrated a genuine care and concern.  As a family we have received tremendous love and support from our church friends, and we know that many have been upholding us in prayer; it has meant so much.

Earlier today Sue and went to register Rita’s death.  We had to wait for the Registrar in a rather sparse room with a gloomy poster on the door, “Death Registration”.  It seemed such a sad place, and as we sat in the waiting room I looked at the other people there and wondered about their circumstances.  It reminded me that people are dying all the time, and there is such a lot of sadness around in each individual case.  As we waited, I said a prayer for the other people in the room, and asked that God would make his love and peace known to those who will visit that room. 

Rita herself had been a widow for almost 29 years.  I thank God that he is a God who comes close in our times of need and enfolds us with his loving arms.  I thank God also for the wonderful promise that if we put our trust in Jesus Christ, death is not the end but merely a doorway into a new life in the very presence of God; a life without tears, sadness or pain.  It is in the assurance of that promise that we can commit Rita into God’s hands. 

Rita died peacefully, with her loving daughter by her side, and now has what she wanted.  R.I.P. Rita, and thank you so much for the gift to the world of your wonderful daughter, who has blessed me beyond measure by being my wife for these past 35 years.  I realise that I probably never truly measured up to your image of the perfect son-in-law, but I tried!