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In the course of a recent visit, someone told me of a time when their son died of cancer. To lose a child must surely be one of the worst of all life experiences. Those of us who have never suffered such a dreadful event can hardly imagine the pain and anguish a parent must experience in such circumstances. To lose someone we know and love is always hard to come to terms with, even if that person has lived into a good old age, but to lose a child, whom we have loved and nurtured, must bring pain beyond words.
During my lifetime many of the areas of life which were once regarded as taboo subjects are no longer regarded as such. Death, however, still remains an area which many try to avoid thinking about. When someone we know is bereaved we can find it difficult to know how to respond to them, and can become tongue-tied and embarrassed when we meet them. Sometimes we hear the unhelpful advice such as "you'll get over it" or "time is a great healer". Perhaps more accurate is what I once heard someone say, "the pain never goes away, you just get used to it being there."
Inevitably the question of God's involvement in times of tragedy comes to the fore at times. Why did God allow this event to happen? Where is God in this tragedy? Of course we can't run away from such questions. And it's certainly no good offering simple platitudes or simplistic answers to such deep questions. Perhaps in the end there are no perfect answers. One thing we can say, however, is that although God never promises that life will always be easy, he does promise that he will be with us in every circumstance of life.
I am currently reading the biography of Justin Welby, the (fairly) new Archbishop of Canterbury. It is a fascinating read. The book relates how Welby and his wife Caroline experienced family tragedy themselves when their 7-month old daughter Johanna died as a result of a traffic accident, after having spent 5 days in intensive care. When such a personal and horrific tragedy strikes a person of faith, that faith is put to its ultimate test. The testimony of the Welbys is remarkable. Caroline Welby has said of that time, "I have never felt God as close as I did that week ... It was the worst time, and yet for me it was a time of extreme closeness to God in that pain."
God has given a wonderful promise in the Bible, 'I will never leave you or forsake you.' If tragedy strikes our lives, we may not be able to answer all the questions which invade our thoughts. But we can know for certain that if we reach out to God we will discover that he is true to his word. As Justin Welby himself has written, "Our children belong to God, as we do, and both our future and theirs is in his hands."
I thoroughly enjoyed watching the recent World Athletics Championships which took place in the Luzhniki Stadium, Moscow. This despite the fact that the British men's sprint relay team brought us the usual disappointment when they were disqualified in the final (unbelievably, the sixth major championship out of seven that the team had failed to get the baton round properly - surely it can't be that hard!)
The British team returned home with 3 gold medals, thanks to Christine Ohuruogu's remarkable, never-say-die, victory in the women's 400m, and Mo Farah's brilliant double in the men's 10000m and 5000m races. In winning those two events Farah became only the second man in history to become double Olympic and World champion over the two distances.
Wonderful as it must have been to accomplish such a feat, it is clear that Farah's gold medals have not been achieved without an immense personal cost. Just after his triumph in last year's Olympics, his wife gave birth to twin daughters. When Mo was interviewed after his 10000m victory in the recent World Championships, he related how he had had to spend some months away from home as part of his training regime; when he returned home he discovered that his daughters did not recognise him, an eventuality which was clearly painful to him.
Mo is obviously a man who loves his family, and from the emotional way in which he spoke about the pain of being separated from them for a substantial period during the past year, there is no doubt that he feels the cost deeply. At some stage he made the decision that the cost of separation from his family was a cost worth paying in attempting to win gold at the World Championships. I'm sure that now the Championships are over, he will enjoy some quality family time!
I used Mo as an illustration in last Sunday's sermon when the theme was Sacrifice. I pointed out how Jesus made it abundantly clear that the decision to follow him should not be taken lightly. There is a cost to be paid, and that cost is our lives. To live that authentic Christian life is to be willing to hand over control of our lives to God, to allow him to take the driving seat. Jesus himself said, 'those of you who do not
give up everything you have cannot be my disciples' (Luke 24:33). The potential Christian disciple has to do exactly what Mo Farah did: make a decision about whether they are willing to pay the cost. The difference is that ultimately the Christian disciple receives something of far greater worth than a gold medal. As St Paul writes, 'All good athletes train hard. They do it for a gold medal that
tarnishes and fades. You’re after one that’s gold eternally.' (1 Corinthians 9:25).
Around 3 years ago Sue and I decided to join the National Trust. We had previously belonged to English Heritage (I have often wondered why the two can't join forces), but as there aren't too many English Heritage properties in South Yorkshire where we then lived we let our membership lapse. In fact there aren't many National Trust properties in South Yorkshire either, but our joining N.T. coincided with a holiday in Anglesey and we visited several N.T. sites during our time in Wales. When we moved to Leicester around a year ago we had hoped that we would find a few more N.T. properties in this area. In fact there aren't many here either, and we soon realised that we would struggle to justify the cost of membership. So at the end of last month our membership of National Trust came to an end (for the time being, at least).
A couple of days before our membership was due to expire, we headed north on holiday, and took the opportunity to call in at two National Trust properties, Keddlestone Hall and Hardwick Hall. We really enjoyed both visits, and the weather was good, giving us the opportunity to appreciate the grounds as well as the buildings. Of course the National Trust have to be careful to preserve and protect their properties, and as I walked round Keddlestone Hall I noticed, perhaps not surprisingly, quite a few "Please Do Not Touch" signs.
Whilst I understand that the signs are there to protect the furniture and other valuable items, at the same time I think it's a shame, because to touch something can certainly add to one's appreciation of an item. It's a bit like going into an antiques centre only to discover that all the items on display are kept securely behind locked cabinets. I much prefer the antiques centres where items are freely available to hold and examine!
As I later reflected on the signs, the thought came to me that some people seem to have a "Please Do Not Touch" view of God; indeed, some religions appear to portray that perspective on God. So what does the Bible say? Of course the Bible does tell us that God is holy, awesome and almighty, and that we are to look on God with reverence and, indeed, with a healthy 'fear.' However, the Bible also tells us that God is a God who draws near to us, who invites us into a love relationship with him. Like the father in the story of the Prodigal Son, God is longing to embrace us and welcome us home when we turn to him. In his amazing grace he has taken away the "Please Do Not Touch" sign.
