Some Random Musings

Today, I thought I would share several short musings which have lately been bouncing around in my head. (Which should be a concern, that there’s so much room in there for several things to be bouncing around!) So, in order to clear out the debris and create enough space to let new things bounce around, here are some of what I have been thinking about, in no particular order:

First, there was the super-blood-blue-moon that appeared on the night of January 31st. Even though the eclipse didn’t begin until almost 4 am and continued until almost 5:30, Karen and I watched a good portion of the event (throwing off our sleep schedule for a couple days!). It really was cool; the moon was large, sort of an orange color, and we watched the earth’s shadow creep over the moon’s surface until it was completely covered. And the great thing was, unlike with the solar eclipse, we didn’t have to drive up to Oregon to see it! But besides the visual phenomenon of the event, what impressed me was that astronomers were able to predict that the event was going to occur, when it would occur – the specific day and hours, and what it would look like. How did they know? For the same reason that star- and sky-watchers all through the ages have been able to predict eclipses, seasonal equinoxes and solstices, and planetary alignments: the regularity of the natural world and its cycles. There is order to the universe, created by God who as the Bible tells us, is not a god of confusion (1 Corinthians 14:33). Genesis 1:14 says that when God created the heavenly bodies, he commanded, “And let them be for signs and for seasons, and for days and years . . .” They could hardly mark times and seasons if their movements were random and chaotic. God is a God of order. We can count on a succession of day and night, as well as so many other physical and natural properties, to sustain life and provide our material needs.

The Bible teaches us that God created order out of chaos in the physical realm (Genesis 1:2 “The earth was without form and void. . .”), and he does so also in the spiritual realm. Though our sinful rebellion has tainted an otherwise perfect creation, and has led to our spiritual chaos and death, God has restored spiritual order by sending his Son into the world to reconcile us and the world to the God of order. Paul can write about how all creation has longed for the day when we are restored as the children of God and creation itself will be free from all the effects of our sin (Romans 8:18-25). When Christ returns, the old things will be made new – and the perfect order of spirit, matter, and energy will become as God desired it to be when he first created us. When that happens, any “blood moons” will only serve to remind us of the shed blood of Christ which made the restoration of perfect order possible.

Second, there was the niche. Earlier this week I accompanied a church member to a local cemetery to say a few words of committal for her husband’s ashes as she placed them in their niche. I spoke the time-honored words, “In the sure and certain hope of the resurrection to come, we commit our brother’s body to its resting place – earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” and she carefully set the box into the niche. We watched  the cemetery worker close the niche and then sat and talked while looking at the niche with its temporary label.

The niche was part of a small columbarium, a short wall filled with similar niches for urns containing what are called “cremains.” (The term columbarium comes from the Latin word “columba” and originally referred to compartmentalized housing for doves and pigeons.) As my eyes scanned the wall, I saw that about half of the compartments were already filled; this particular columbarium had full-color pictures of the deceased on each niche, along with each person’s name and life-dates. What struck me as I scanned the face-plates and names was the “inclusive” nature of those who had died and been placed there: men and women, young and old, black and white, Asian, and Hispanic. The names reflected a wide range of ethnicities, and some of the information was written in Chinese and other Asian characters.

To me this inclusivity was not politically or socially significant; its significance was spiritual. What it spoke to me was the inclusivity of death. No matter our background, race, age, gender (real or perceived), social or income status, strength or weakness, popularity or lack thereof, every one of us will die (or more nicely put, “pass away”). Scripture says, “it is appointed for man to die once” (Hebrews 9:27), because “sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned” (Romans 5:12). And yes, the term “man” here is inclusive. Unless we are alive when Christ returns (1 Corinthians 15:51-52 and 1 Thessalonians 4:13-17), we will all face death.

But of course, that’s not the end of the story; although the wages of sin is death, the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 6:23). Because God loves us and does not desire that anyone should perish (2 Peter 3:9) he has provided his Son, Jesus Christ, as the path to resurrection and eternal life. For God so loved the world . . . that is everyone . . . he sent his Son. After his own resurrection, Jesus gave an inclusive command to his disciples, that they were to take the Gospel to the world and make disciples of all nations (Matthew 28:19). The result will be the greatest gathering ever of all the nations of the world, when heaven will be filled with “a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb” (Revelation 7:9).

That’s an inclusivity that will put the columbarium I saw to shame.

Third, there was the immigration checkpoint. Karen and I just recently vacationed in Arizona. After seeing the big Tucson Gem and Mineral Show, we drove down to the frontier town/tourist trap known as Tombstone, “The Town Too Tough to Die.” While preparing for the trip, we noted a couple things. First, that new, more secure, ID cards will soon be required for all flights in the US; and  second, that the map showed a US Immigration checkpoint on the highway just north of Tombstone – not at the Mexican border, but 50 miles inland from it.

Putting these things together, we decided we wanted to be sure to have definitive identification papers with us, so we took along our US passports – the plastic card versions. In my mind, I imagined us being stopped at the checkpoint and asked to show proof of citizenship; I would smile and whip out my passport, humbling the officer who would apologize and wave us on through. Of course, he would have to check Karen’s, too . . .

We passed the checkpoint on the way south into Tombstone, and saw that they were checking north-bound cars only. At the time we passed, there were several cars stopped in line being checked. We continued on into town, smiling knowingly that we would be ready for our turn the next day. Since we arrived early in the day, we went and did our touristy things, had dinner, and retired to the motel for the night.

Then it was morning – the big day of our Immigration Validation! We packed up and carefully put our passport cards where they could be easily produced, and headed north out of town. There it was! Just ahead! The US Customs and Border checkpoint. And there were no other cars ahead or behind us; they would have an uninterrupted chance to inspect us, our ID’s, and the car. What would they find? What would they say? The tension mounted as we approached. We slowed down as the speed limit decreased, until we came to the designated stopping point. Out from the booth stepped an agent: here it was – the moment we had prepared for – and the agent took one look at us, smiled, waved us on though, and said, “Have a nice day!”

That’s it?! All that preparation, and all he did was wave us through!? Did he profile us? Did we look that harmless? Were we so obviously gringos that he didn’t need to see our IDs? Couldn’t he have stopped us and at least made a show of inspecting the car? He could have found a banana from the motel in the suitcase – would that qualify as contraband? I was so disappointed that we didn’t have to show our cards – but I was polite, so I just shouted “!Gracias!” as we drove on through . . .*

Of course, the experience did raise one question I’d like to ask you: if heaven had an immigration checkpoint to get in (manned by St. Peter, of course), how would you prove your citizenship to be allowed in? Scripture says our citizenship is in heaven (Philippians 3:20), but on what basis?

That’s it for this time. Until later,

May the Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you, the Lord lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace. Amen.

Read: Psalm 8, Romans 8

 

*Actually, Karen talked me out of it . . .