To Live MUST Be Christ

Seasons of suffering do not always produce our clearest and most logical thoughts. The coming together of things like shock, sadness, anger, and confusion can sometimes lead to some wildly unhealthy and even irrational conclusions and decisions. And yet, I would argue that those difficult seasons of our lives can also end up being the moments when we see things with a surprising amount of clarity.

THE MONTH OF FEBRUARY

On February 4th, 2024, I went to the hospital to have a lump looked at. I expected to be home that evening with some medication to take care of a very mundane diagnosis. However, things do not always happen as we expect them to. That initial visit began for me a cascade of tests and appointments. The emergency room visit led to an ultrasound; the ultrasound led to another doctor’s appointment; that appointment led to a meeting with a specialist; the meeting with a specialist led to surgery; surgery led to more tests and scans; tests and scans led to lots of waiting, and all of which together led to the longest month of my life. Ill have you know that in my little part of North America, February is routinely the coldest month of the year, which seems to always make it the longest month of the year (even with only 28 or 29 days). As it would happen, February 2024 was the warmest February my town had experienced in ages, but the longest February I had ever lived.

Pretty early into the journey of tests and appointments I became aware of the expected diagnosis, and it wasn’t great. The effect of this knowledge was a flood of emotions and a spinning mind. I quickly called my elders team to request relief from preaching for the foreseeable future because I was finding myself unable to focus on anything except the situation before me. For days on end, I did nothing but walk. I would set out in the morning into the mountains and spend 8 hours of the work day walking in silence down dirt roads, petitioning the Lord and trying to come to grips with the likelihood of a shortened life. If you would have asked me in those days while I was walking those long dirt roads, if I was thinking clearly, I probably would have said “Unlikely.” Even while I was going through it, I could recognize in myself the list that I began with: shock, sadness, anger and confusion. This cocktail of emotions had me far too preoccupied to be imparting much wisdom or making any life-changing decisions. And yet, as I look back on my journal entries from that month, I realize that in some ways I was thinking about my life with a clarity that I’d never had before.

I won’t make a habit of sharing my journal on the internet, but for the sake of the topic let me share a brief exert. February 6th, while sitting on a flat rock on a mountain side with a Bible flipped open to Mark 8.34 and Philippians 1.21 on my mind, I wrote, “I have never been more sure that death is real. I have never been more sure that Jesus lives. This season of life has changed death for me. And it has changed life for me. To die is inevitably a gain. And to live must be Christ. Anything less makes no sense. If God died for me, if He lives, if I will be raised up with Him, if He is all satisfying, good and sufficient, how could He have half of me and the world have the rest? How could fear and worry have any place in me? How could my life not be surrendered completely in joy? Either I would I have missed who Jesus is and what He has done and promised, or I have would have failed to believe it.”

THE POWER OF facing your mortality

If you haven’t guessed yet, I was diagnosed with cancer. As I type here on the morning of March 11th, just over one month after the original diagnosis, I have been declared cancer free. I still have some hoops to jump through, but for the most part I have a clean bill of health, for which I am thankful beyond what words can even express. Maybe some what oddly though, I am also thankful for everything that has led up to this point. I wouldn’t trade February 2024 for anything. It was this trial and all the pain and uncertainty it entailed that led me to thinking about the gospel in ways that I pray I will never recover from.

You see, before this whole cancer thing, death to me was just other people’s reality. As a pastor I would go deal with it on their behalf, but it never felt too real for me personally. It was something abstract, even kind of theoretical. The result, I realize now looking back, was a very cavalier following of Jesus. No real urgency. No Psalm 42 like desperation. No comprehensive surrender. And it makes sense, because without a real sense of death and just how certain it is and deserving of it we are, how can we ever truly appreciate the life Jesus came to give us?

So, there I was, just casually following Jesus, trusting more in myself then not. Following Jesus at a safe distance. And then cancer hit, and suddenly death felt like it was on my doorstep, or I on its. For the first time the end felt absolutely real; my life felt fragile and finite, and the gospel, and in particular the cost of following Jesus, made more sense than it ever had.

Let me try to explain. In Mark 8.34 Jesus lays out the requirements of anyone that would want to follow Him, and it is nothing short of everything. He calls them to deny themselves and take up their crosses, which is to essentially say, “You must throw your life away and recklessly abandon yourself to God.” That is a steep price to follow. It couldn’t be any steeper. Who on earth would pay that price? Well, only the one who understands the value of what they are receiving. Jesus goes on to say in the next verse, “For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel’s will save it.” In other words, what is being received in the relinquishment of our lives is not just some added happiness, it is life itself. True life, eternal life, new life in Christ. A gift of infinite value!

Well if you are receiving something that is worth more than anything, what happens to the cost of that something? It disappears. And when the value of the life Jesus offers is understood, then the cost of following Him is no longer even worthy of being called a cost. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer so perfectly put it, “Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a man his life and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life worth living.”

THE COST, NAY, THE GRACE OF FOLLOWING JESUS

Here’s the thing, I had loved and followed Jesus for many years. I had contemplated and rested in the Gospel for many years. But I had always wavered in how much of my life I gave to Christ and how much I held back. Simply, because while never really comprehending the reality of the death I deserve, I had never understood the value of and felt the consequent gratitude for the life that Jesus gives. But when death became for me a real reality and an immediate possibility, then the abundant life that Jesus died to give me (the already and not yet) finally appeared as the real, invaluable, undeserving, and infinite gift that it truly is. And when that happened, the incredible cost of following Him dissolved into worship. It became the only logical response. The cost, as Bonhoeffer explains, was transformed from cost into grace.

It is probably good that I wasn’t operating heavy machinery last month. But in terms of thinking about Jesus and about my living and dying, I don’t believe I have ever thought so clearly as when I sat on a mountainside and paraphrased for myself the apostle Paul, “To die is inevitably a gain. And to live must be Christ. Anything less makes no sense.”

Momentary Affliction

One of our key tactics as humans for enduring times of suffering is thinking about that suffering in terms of its duration. Before the dentist jabs his patient’s gums with a needle, he says, “This will only hurt for a moment.” The sleep deprived parents of newborn twins tell one another, “This is just a season.” The coach encourages his straining, sweating athletes by yelling, “Keep going, your almost done! Your almost there!” There is something powerful about knowing that something is not forever and that there is an end in sight. It just gives you an ability to endure things that are hard to endure. You can find a motivation to get to the finish line because you know that then there will be a level of relief once you cross it.

In 2 Corinthians, when the apostle Paul speaks of suffering for Jesus’ sake, he calls it this: “Light momentary affliction” (2 Cor 4.17). He goes on to say some extraordinary things directly after this phrase, unpacking what he means by it, though I would like to pay attention just to that phrase itself for a moment and specifically to the word ‘momentary.’

It is clear from his letter to the Corinthians that Paul is undergoing a lot of pain for the Gospel. He writes things like, “For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself” (2 Cor 1.8), and “We who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake” (2 Cor 4.11). And yet incredibly, he endures. He writes, only a few verses later, “So we do not lose heart” (2 Cor 4.16). But how? How does he not lose heart? How does Paul endure so joyfully?

At least one answer is that he interprets his suffering in terms of its duration. He understands that it is momentary. Now to that you might rightfully say, “How is it momentary Paul? It seems to be nonstop.” To which I think the apostle Paul would say, “It is momentary compared to eternity.”

Imagine if there was waiting for you an unending and infinite time of relief. And not just relief but an infinite time of infinite joy. An eternity of worshipping the One worthy of worship. An eternity of knowing the One you were created to know. An eternity of dwelling in the presence of the almighty God. What is a lifetime compared to an eternity? It’s a moment. More than that, what is a lifetime of suffering compared to an eternity of joy? It’s a moment.

Even if the rest of Paul’s human life was to be unrelenting pain and suffering for the sake of the Gospel, he understood that compared to the relief that was coming for him, that pain and suffering was momentary. Compared to eternity, it would be over in a flash.

The reality for Christians today is the same as it was for Paul, that there really is waiting for us after the race is over an eternity of infinite joy in the presence of our Creator. Which means that no matter what we suffer in this life for the sake of Christ; no matter how long it goes on for, what was true of Paul’s suffering is true of ours as well: that in comparison to eternity, it is momentary.

It is light momentary affliction that is preparing for you an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.

This will only hurt for a moment. Its just a season. Keep going, your almost done! Your almost there! So do not lose heart.

Books and Death

Brevard Childs, the late Old Testament professor, wrote in the intro to his Biblical Theology

“From my library shelves the great volumes of the Fathers, school-men and reformers look down invitingly. I have also acquired over the years many of the great classics of the Reformed and Lutheran post reformation tradition. However, life is too short for a biblical specialist to do more than read selectively and dabble here and there.”

You really don’t even need to know the context to grasp the quote. Simply put, Childs just understood that he couldn’t read everything. He didn’t have enough time.

In my own life books have taken on a powerful role in reminding me daily that my days are limited. Maybe it is just because I am a slow reader, but I can’t even glance at the unread books which sit there haunting me from their designated shelf space without realizing that there are a limited number of books I have time left on this earth to read. This reality is accentuated by the fact that I have a list of books in my head of which I want to read and which are not even on the shelf yet and yet which I know, again, amount to more reading time than I have left.

It is strange the things the Lord can use to remind us of and reinforce biblical truths. Who would ever think that books could have such a morbid and prophetic type voice, but they do, at least for me. They speak before I even crack the cover, saying in what I imagine to be an old scratchy, oxfordish, baritone sounding voice, something like, “You’re running out of time, choose wisely.” They help me, at least for a moment, to recover a right sense of my own finitude, and to be honest that is worth more than all the words that fill their pages.

A Limited amount of life

As far as I have experienced, it is really only when a person grasps the limits of their own life that they begin to use their life wisely. Think about money as the analogy: When you assume your supply of dollars is endless you don’t get wise with your spending, you get frivolous; you waste it because there is (allegedly) an abundance of it. But when you realize that you only have so much money and on top of that that you only have so much time in your life to make money, you start to account for every dollar and maybe even every penny; you begin to think about where every penny and dollar go.

I don’t think that time works much differently than money. When you start to take account of your time, that is when you start to think about how every hour and day are spent; you go from spending your time frivolously to spending it intentionally. And when do you start to take account of your time? You start to take account of it when you realize that it is limited, and that unlike money there will be no chance to make more.

Making the Best Use of Your Time

Again, for me it is books that remind me often of my finite life. Of course, those books aren’t saying anything new, they are just pointing me back to the Scriptures and reawakening the many verses living in the back of my mind that speak this very truth.

Job 14.1-2 “Man who is born of a woman is few of days and full of trouble. He comes out like a flower and withers; he flees like a shadow and continues not.”

Psalm 39.5 “Behold, you have made my days a few handbreadths, and my lifetime is as nothing before you. Surely all mankind stands as a mere breath!”

Psalm 89.47 “Remember how short my time is! For what vanity you have created all the children of man!”

Psalm 103.15 “As for man, his days are like grass; he flourishes like a flower of the field; All flesh is grass, and all its beauty is like the flower of the field.”

1 Peter 1.24-25 “All flesh is like grass and all its glory like the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower falls, but the word of the Lord remains forever.”

If there are only so many books you have time to read, choose wisely. If there is only so much money you have to spend, spend wisely. If there are only so many days and hours you have to live, in the words of the Apostle Paul, “Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time…” (Ephesians 5.15-16)