The Cup Is More Than Full!

"Just as we have borne the image of the man of dust, we shall also bear the image of the Man of Heaven." (1 Corinthians 15:49, ESV)

    The last week has given me quite a bit to think about in terms of my last two posts on life, death and my true Home. Two days after my last post "Can't Feel At Home Anymore", I was stunned when John Neufeld delivered a powerful and uplifting sermon along similar lines, taken from the passage of 1 Corinthians 15:12-22 and titled "The Believer's Hope". Covering the resurrection of Christ and the implications for those who pur their trust in Him, it was brilliantly thought out and put together.

    In addition, a friend of mine who read "From the Land of The Dying to the Land of The Living" raised the question if the thoughts I'd expressed there weren't another form of seeing the proverbial glass as half-empty. I did respond partially to his very sincere question, but wanted to write more about what it means to me personally, and why I believe in it so wholeheartedly.

    I've come to believe with solid conviction that comprehending the reality and implications of my own mortality - that I'm dying, that this world is not home, and what I want to do with my time here is a totally liberating, not stifling perspective. Why?

• It redefines my time. From the moment of my birth, the clock may be ticking away, but one must ask the question, "Ticking away to what?". If it really is pitch black on the other side of death and I must jump into darkness and nothingness, then the tyranny of the immediate, of the here-and-now presses in with a ferocious and frightening intensity. It demands that I savour all the pleasure and experience that this life has to offer with a voracious appetite, for in the words of Paul quoting Isaiah, "Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die". But if the promises of Christ and His resurrection are true, the clock ticks away not to an event of overwhelming sadness and despair, but to an incredible sprint as I cover last few yards to a Home beyond all comprehension, and a Father running to welcome me with open arms as I burst in through Heaven's gates.

• It redefines my money and possessions. If this life is all there is, wealth gathering and hoarding becomes my sole aim, for without it I cannot savour the pleasures of all that this world may offer. I must also regard everything I see around me as potentially "my property", for if I don't grab it first, someone else will. But convinced of who Christ is and His promises in John 14:1-3, I realize that everything I see around me is His property, not mine, with an invisible sticker labeled "Property of God" on it. This redefines why I make money, and what I do with it. I don't cling on to my aging, fading and disintegrating possessions with a tight fist anymore, for my Father is preparing and keeping unbelievably brilliant stuff for me at Home.

• It redefines my relationships. Life doesn't become about what others can do for me, or what I can take from them. I am instead driven to pour myself out in love to the last drop for them, and think differently about them too. Has anyone told them who God is, and what He has promised those who accept and know Him? Has anyone shown them the true love of the Father? Do they know what they are spending their lives on? What can I do for them? How can I tell them? How can I show them? How can I love them selflessly? Will they come with me to the Home and Father I'm going to? Or will they be shut out permanently?

  More than anything else, it is redefined by the power of the Word of God that thrills me with the words of Paul the Apostle, who tells me that the cup is not half-empty, or half-full. It's overflowing:

    "So is it with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown is perishable; what is raised is imperishable. It is sown in dishonor; it is raised in glory. It is sown in weakness; it is raised in power. It is sown a natural body. It is raised a spiritual body...Behold! I tell you a mystery...For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality...Therefore my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain." (1 Corinthians 15:42-58, ESV).

  And that is why I can't, and won't live like this:

That's it for now. See you in the next post!

- The Wisdom Seeker

Can't Feel At Home Anymore

   Sometimes, a song expresses what needs to be said more than elegant prose ever can. After posting the thoughts of "From the Land of The Dying to the Land of The Living", the words and tune of a song that my parents used to play at home while I was a child came back to me. It had been so many years since I had heard Jim Reeves' deep and comforting  voice that God had blessed him with, singing the words of "This World Is Not My Home." I found a posting on Youtube with wonderful audio quality and thought I'd share it along with the lyrics here:

Lyrics:

This world is not my home, I'm just a' passing through
My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue
The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore

Chorus:
Oh Lord, You know I have no friend like You
If Heaven's not my home, then Lord what will I do?
The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore

I have a loving mother just over in Gloryland
And I don't expect to stop until I shake her hand
She's waiting now for me in Heaven's open door
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore

Just over in Gloryland, we'll live eternally
The saints on every hand are shouting "Victory!"
Their songs of sweetest praise drift back from heaven's shore
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore

   Listening to this song has only reinforced my decision to run as hard as I possibly can, for the sake of my Christ and His Kingdom with the short time I have left in this world. I'm just passing through on my way Home, and I have no friend like Him. It reminds me of a post I wrote in 2009 titled "Where is Home?", after a UBC C4C event.

I want to hear the songs that they're singing there now. I have to get Home. I must!

   If you're reading this, if you haven't made Heaven the place that you call "Home" and if you don't know Jesus as the Friend unlike any you have ever had, may I encourage you to invite Him into your life? You can't get Home without Him.

- The Wisdom Seeker

From the Land of The Dying to the Land of The Living

 I thought I'd launch my New Year with a powerful idea that hit me last year. It happened a few days before my Master's thesis defense in late April. Looking at my hand one morning, a thought struck me:

I'm dying.

   The words of 2 Corinthians 4:16 came almost immediately to mind: "So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day." A few days before that realisation, I had listened to a sermon from 2004 by John Neufeld, Senior Pastor at Willingdon Church where I attend. Titled "The Precious Event of A Believer's Death," it covered the death of Abraham's wife Sarah in Genesis 23. Contemplating his sermon, it finally sank in with more than an intellectual understanding - this world really isn't the Land of the Living; it's the Land of the Dying. From the moment of my conception, the clock ticks away and I'm only growing older, not younger, till the time of my death. For all our social, scientific and technological advancement, the reality of our mortality cannot be we smoothed away by any amount of anti-aging cream. Pastor John went on to point out that The Land of the Living is occupied by those believers who have taken the final journey through death, welcomed with rejoicing by God and all who have gone on before.

  Contemplating that, I followed it to its conclusion:

    If this is the Land of The Dying, I'm not going to be around for very long.

   That made a lot of sense. Even if I made it through another 50 or 60 years, that's still insignificant in comparison to eternity that is waiting on the other side. I had read plenty in the Bible about the fleeting nature of this life and heard it preached from the pulpit, but I think the implications still remained somewhat intellectual and vague until I heard that sermon. Having it finally sink in, I was left with a question:

What do I want to do with my time here?

    I thought long and hard about the lat 5 years, and all the grand plans and swelling ambitions that I had constructed for myself after having finished my undergraduate degree. So much had changed along the way after starting out with an almighty roar in hot pursuit of high achievement. God had redirected my obsession with Aerospace Engineering to do a graduate research program that I accepted as a last resort, at a university that was my last choice, in a city that I did not have any plans to move to. Along the way, I have met so many wonderful people, had my perspectives changed, assumptions devastated, grown and changed tremendously, experienced trial and heartbreak...

   So what do I want to do? I know what I don't want to happen. In my final moments before I take the road that exits this life, I don't want to look back and just see a diligent student who did well in school, got a high GPA and academic accomplishments to boot. I don't want my life to become about a great professional who always put the project first. I don't want to just see an hard-working engineer who wrote great code and built impressive systems; no one will remember either of them. I won't want to see my possessions, certificates or accolades that only accumulate ever thicker layers of dust; none of them will give me any comfort at that time. An impressive resume will become meaningless, for no one will ever use it to make a hiring decision ever again. Any money (or lack of it) that I accumulate will have an exchange rate of zero on the other side of this life.

   I want to pour my life out to the very last drop for that which will bring life to people's hearts. I want to tell them about the Living One, the Christ without whom there is no Land of The Living. Loving people has become very important to me. I want to love those around me with all the risks that come with it, even if I get hurt in the process; the hurt won't matter anymore on the other side of this life. What good is it being a stingy miser with my words, affection and actions? Who am I saving all my capacity for love, anyway? Am I planning to hoard it carefully and spend it all on those whom I meet when I cross over into the Land of The Living? That's so stupid!

   I have come to the conclusion that as great as it is that we are able to develop innovative technology, building better systems of any kind will not ultimately change the condition of the human heart, out of which all things flow. Neither will the approach of taking power out of the hands of the few and putting it into the hands of the people; it is pointless if the heart doesn't recognize the One who possesses and bestows all power, understand what true power is, and how to wield it. Without bringing people to the knowledge of the Living One, the Giver of Life, I have come to the belief that every other accomplishment in my life is ultimately meaningless.

   I want to shine the light of the Living One in the Land of the Dying, so that those who are dead will see His light and come along with me on my journey with Him to the Land of the Living. If I die in the process, I'll get there all the faster.

  This post is dedicated to my dear friend Julia, who brought her grandmother and grandfather to know and accept Christ, shortly before her grandmother passed on a few days ago.

- The Wisdom Seeker