Death and All His Friends...

Nashville is a great city, but it has it's wounds.

Over the past few weeks, I've made some regular friends I can talk and have good conversations with. I met my friend Bobby last week: a man whose orange coat is about as loud and friendly as he is. He's had quite a bit of heartbreak over the past ten to fifteen years, along with a motor cycle accident and a bipolar fiancee and a recluse spider bite. (If you don't know the type of bite I'm talking about, look it up. Makes for a good squirm in your stomach.) But he stays as happy as he can throughout the junk that's come his way. He's a very humorous person and is sure to have a good time. He hates salad, but lives for the croutons.

I asked him last time if he had been looking around for a job and he said, "No! Why would I look for a job? I'm doing what I love! I make music and I get my check from the government and I don't pay taxes! Why doesn't everyone live like this?! They call me a conformist, but I think I'm okay."

This doesn't help the homeless stereotype, but he's a good guy, nonetheless. This week was a little bit of a downer for him, though. He found out that his sister passed the day he left Texas (which was about three months ago) and his family neglected to tell him. He was pretty upset about it, because she wasn't a Christian, according to him. Apparently she was a drunk and not a light one, either. I didn't pry on what it really was that killed her because, let's be honest, that's not the brightest thing to say when someone finds out that their family kept the death of a sibling from the other sibling. Though everyone else had something to say about the death, and it was a general consensus that his sister was burning her ass off in hell.

Here's where I get really uncomfortable:

It's an obvious "worst-cast-scenario" situation when people tell people about the Lord. The modern Gospel is that Jesus came to save our souls from damnation and reconcile our relationship with the Father God. (Never-we-mind that this take on the gospel is only about 150 years old and the previous "Gospel" was that Jesus came to destroy the devil and his works. This means to destroy hate, war and injustice. But hey, we live in a fallen world right? I guess the prophets and the JC were just kidding about that part.) I don't take the modern gospel lightly, and it's a very serious subject and I could go down a whole other theological rabbit trail, but here's the gist: Do we really want to see everyone go to hell?

No, not at all.

And I don't claim to know everyone who's going to heaven or hell. I think the only one who has that call and authority over this is God. And to say I know the thoughts of God is to say that I'm Jesus. Honestly people, I don't want blasphemy on my head with a stoning sentence as well. I can't handle that this week. It's sound theology to say that those only come to the Father through Jesus. I believe that. I live by that. But in this situation, do I tell Bobby that his sister is spending eternity in somewhere that I can't even give a clear definition of? I believe in hell, I just have no idea what the heck HELL looks like. I don't really like thinking about it.

It makes me very angry when Christians think they have the authority (and sometimes audacity) to tell people where their loved one ended up. Bobby didn't need to hear what those three people said. To tell someone who is hurting that their loved one died, "Well, I guess they're in hell now, aren't they?" What gives us that right? And if someone wants to feed me the scriptures about "we have authority," I'll politely tell you to shove it. We may have authority with the scripture and we have authority over Satan, but I doubt we know the true thoughts of God.

Death is not something that was designed for us. In the garden, there was no pain or death, but the whole sin thing got a hold of the world and now we find ourselves in the mess we have here, readily repairing and waiting for the Lord's total restoration of the world. It's a sad subject, something natural, and something that we can't comprehend until we're there. And death requires silence. Our "authority" or "knowledge" of the subject has no place in the time of pain. Love has no voice many times throughout our lives. And to try and voice love when it has no words to say just has us spitting empty words. And they are words we don't know.

It's like giving a loaded gun to a child.

It doesn't comprehend the power it has, and when we do crap like that...

...we don't even know what love is, then. We just know a bunch of phrases that are as worthless as clay.

As we find death among our lives, let us love. We don't need to tell people their fears. Their fears are to be dealt with however they will be. Sadness needs to take it's course, and grieving must take place.

Hey, even Jesus cried when Lazarus died. But wasn't Lazarus a follower of the Messiah? Why would he cry if he's already "saved"? I don't claim to know everything, but I know when I don't have the answers.

So, Bobby, I don't know if your sister is in hell. I hope she's not, but I'll be here to comfort you. I won't shove words down your throat, and I'll try to lift you up as much as I can. In the meantime, know I love you, and so does our Yeshua Meshiach, and our great father. Grace and peace to you, as well all try to love more and more and repair the broken kingdom.

Let the Kingdom come, because it's at hand.

Blessings.

Tim