The One About the Thin Space and Saying Goodbye
Dear West Family
I am sorry that it has been so quiet from my side for a while. Sue and I jumped on a plane last Wednesday and flew for 24 hours to Johannesburg so that we could see her dad before he passed from this life to the next. By God’s grace, we got here in time to see him and to sit with him, pray with him, and comfort him in his final hours. He was in what Celtic Christian tradition refers to as, “the thin space.” It was tangible. A space where the gap between death and life becomes thin. A space in which time collapses and the painstaking passing of limited remaining seconds collide with vast and imposing expanse of eternity. A space between the physical and the spiritual, between visible death and ultimate life, between the life giving supply of an oxygen machine and of lungs that have received their full allotment of that precious source.
The thin space.
It was a privilege to sit in it with Bill, and Sue, and her family.
God was very present, even though He didn’t say much. He didn’t need to.
Yesterday I had the privilege of conducting Bill’s memorial service at the church I pastored for fifteen years. It felt like a thin space again as people reflected on the life of another and considered the remaining days that they had to live in their own lives on this earth. Below are the few things that I mentioned at the end of my homily that I thought Bill might say to us if we were able, knowing what he now knows, and seeing what he now sees.
I have a favorite Psalm that I recited to Bill just a few hours before he died. It is Psalm 103, and it speaks of this divine knowing with which God knows us fully, this divine love that He gives to us in abundance, and this divine mercy of grace which we all so desperately need.
It says,
God is sheer mercy and grace; not easily angered, he's rich in love.
He doesn't endlessly nag and scold, nor hold grudges forever.
He doesn't treat us as our sins deserve, nor pay us back in full for our wrongs.
As high as heaven is over the earth, so strong is his love to those who fear him.
And as far as sunrise is from sunset, he has separated us from our sins.
As parents feel for their children, God feels for those who fear him.
He knows us inside and out, keeps in mind that we're made of mud.
Men and women don't live very long; like wildflowers they spring up and blossom,
But a storm snuffs them out just as quickly, leaving nothing to show they were here.
God's love, though, is ever and always, eternally present to all who fear him, Making everything right for them and their children.
- From Ps 103 in The Message.
So that is the God that we entrust Bill to, and that is the God who can provide us comfort and grace today.
One who knows us. One who loves us anyway. One who is “sheer mercy and grace.”
When I was trying to think of what to say today, I asked myself the question … what do I think Bill would say to us today, knowing what he now knows, seeing what he now sees?
Life is shorter and longer than we think
Bill got 80 years, and though the last couple were very rough I think he would say that it was over too quickly. I know he would have wanted to see his grandkids grow up. He wanted to travel more. He wanted to enjoy the retirement he worked so hard to secure. But, he ran out of time. We all do.
He would tell us to grab our lives by the scruff of the neck and to make the most of every minute we have. Psalm 90 tells us that a life of wisdom comes from numbering our days rightly. In other words, those who know that this life is short and the next one is long live with a bold wisdom that allows them to make the most of the days that they have here on earth.
You can’t take anything with you, but you can leave a legacy behind
Bill was no hoarder of things. He was fiercely generous - perhaps to a fault. Matthew 6 tells us not to store up treasures on earth, but rather to store them in heaven where they can last forever. What that means is that there are things that matter forever, and there are things that are just things.
People matter forever. Legacy matters forever. Laughter echoes in the chambers of eternity. Encouragement of others matters. Love matters. Sacrifice matters. Legacy matters.
You can’t monetize any of those things. That is why they can freely cross to the celestial shore in ways that mere stuff cannot.
There is life and meaning beyond the grave, so pay attention to it now
Moments like today, and lives like Bill’s remind us that this life can’t be all there is. Bill can’t just be gone. His life can’t just be over. We know that, at a soul level. So we create platitudes about the comfort of the life to come because we cannot bear to submit to the futility that says that this is all there is.
When we sat with Bill in his final hours, you could sense the physical life departing from his mortal body. It was tangible. But you could also sense the ongoing existence of his essence, his soul.
I quoted Robert Louis Stevenson at the start of this. He was a devout atheist for most of his life, but softened a great deal later in his life. He wrote in a letter to his father, who had been distressed by his son’s antagonism towards faith.
“Tis a strange world, indeed, but there is a manifest God for those who care to look for him.”
Friends, I don’t know what you think about spirituality, religion, God. But having crossed over into eternal reality, I think Bill would implore us to figure it out. There can be no greater pursuit.
It isn’t actually all in the mind
“It’s all in the mind” was Bill’s favorite mantra. Gosh I will miss his optimism. But, Bill would acknowledge that if you try to keep it all in the mind, at some point the mind gets overwhelmed, and Bill had one of the most capable minds I ever came across.
Friends, it is okay to not be okay. It is okay to get overwhelmed. It is okay to feel stuck. Just don’t do it alone!! Let people know you and love you and help you. One of my favorite songs is by U2 and has a line that says … “Sometimes you can’t make it on your own.”
It is true.
God is near
Psalm 34 tells us that the Lord is near to the broken hearted. 2 Corinthians 1 tells us that God is the God of all comfort who comforts us in times of affliction and suffering.
In Luke 11, when Lazarus died, Jesus wept with those who were mourning. What a thought, a God who weeps with the weeping. He is near today. Reach out to him.
Thank you to all of you for your love, mercy and support. I am flying back to Austin this weekend and Sue is going to stay on to help get her mom settled in this next season of life. We love you all and can’t wait to be back with you in church.
I hope to see you Sunday if the jet lag doesn’t get me.
Press on,
Ross
