We Die Alone

 

    There's a hymn our family used to sing which has recently come to mind. The last verse, usually most poignant, has stuck most recently:

We are a temple, the Spirit's dwelling place,

Formed in great weakness, a cup to hold God's grace,

We die alone, for on its own

Each ember loses fire:

Yet, joined in one the flame burns on,

To give warmth, and light, and to inspire.

 

    "We die alone," those three words have not let me be over the past few weeks. I tend to get routinely disgusted with church if I'm not careful. I start sticking my nose up in the air like I'm better than everyone else and get annoyed with the casualty with which people amble in to the sanctuary of the Almighty God. 

    I become fed up with the touchy-feelyness of modern worship, and worn out with pedantic song lyrics, bad melodies, and repetitious platitudes. I miss the beauty, the grandeur, the awe that I feel ought to be there. I scowl at the young man sitting two seats down wearing the same polo shirt he wore to the labour day picnic last year. I wonder if maybe I shouldn't just ditch church altogether, and read my Bible at home.

    Then I remember this verse: "We die alone, for on its own each ember loses fire..."

    The throes of life and my foibles serve to remind me that I would die alone in a sense. I would never stop being a Christian. It's not that easy to shake Christ off, and I wouldn't want to, but I would stagnate. I would devolve into what one writer calls "a living death." I would cease to grow, and learn, and develop. In essence, cut off from flawed, failing humanity, I would die.

    There's a trend that I'm seeing out in the Christian world right now. A trend that to my mind is extremely dangerous. It is a trend that says people's safety is more important than community, that it is better to live alone than die together, that we would rather never have loved, than to have loved and lost. There is a trend that says the government has a right to tell you to do anything in the name of public safety. It is a trend that says any kind of life is better than a physical death.

    I'm not here to argue whether or not the virus is really as bad as the media says it is. I'm not here to demand that you go hug the next person you meet(I appreciate my personal space as much as the next man), nor am I here to wax eloquent on whether or not a person ought to cover his face in public.

    What I do wish to question is the church's reluctance to gather per our Lord's command, our reluctance to encourage community and fellowship among our members, our reviling of men who have balked the system and begun gathering in spite of government mandates--men whom we ought to consider brothers in Christ regardless of whether we disagree with their decisions.

    I am concerned about the laxity of American Christians who have become so comfortable in their cushioned lives, that they have forgotten who were first out on the plague stricken streets of Medieval Europe. It wasn't the rulers, it wasn't the doctors, it certainly wasn't the pope, it was the Christians. The invisible church of God, who tended the sick and took in those who had either been abandoned by family members, or whose relatives had all been taken by the dreaded sickness.

    I wonder where those Christians are today. I wonder how many of them have sealed the doors of their dwellings in the name of public safety. I wonder if any of them realize how quickly life passes, and how little time we have here on earth to do anything at all. 

    I have read of men who did more in eighteen years of life than some have done in eighty. I have attended the funeral of a seven year old who did more with his seven years than many people can boast with seventy. More memories and stories, and fond reminiscences were given that day than I have heard of people who had ten times the life span he did.

    I have realized one crucial point in all of this: we are here not on holiday, but on assignment. A soldier does not retreat because a bullet whizzes past his ear, nor should we. The soldier dodges from cover to cover, looking for the safest ground, but always towards the combat, not away from it, at least, if his orders are to advance. He does not wantonly throw away his life, but neither is he too careful with it. I worry that we Christians are being too careful with our lives, I fear that we are hiding a glorious light which God has bid us shine. I wonder if we are scurrying in the shadows when we ought to be dancing in the sunlight.

    There was a ballad I read once, an allegory of Christ which cast the Saviour in the role of a troubadour, singing the ancient star song, something the people of that world were forbidden to sing. His friends and family begged him not to sing the song, at least, if he did, to sing it privately, quietly, to not let the rulers of the city hear it, but he refused to keep it, lives were changed, people were rescued by the strength of his song, and eventually he was killed for it by the rulers who claimed he was harming people.

    I wonder now if we as Christians are not to be the troubadours of our age. I wonder if we're not being too careful about our singing of that star song. I wonder if out of a desire to accommodate we're assigning things to Christian freedom, freedom of conscience which should not be, and worse yet, we're refusing to allow others' input, we're refusing to allow anyone but those who agree with everything we say to speak into our lives, to correct a belief we hold.

    I am concerned that the embers of our fire are being scattered, and the fire is going out. 

    We die alone, for on its own each ember loses fire.

    But what shall we do if our lives are so short? What shall we do if we have but one life to give for our Lord? Shall we wither away or go out in a blaze? Shall we, in the words of C.S. Lewis, die like sheep in our houses, or out and about doing sensible things? How shall we use the small allotment of hours, minutes, and seconds we've been given?

    My friends, I do not ask that you do exactly as I am doing, definitely not. I am doing plenty of things wrong. I also do not ask that you go do something ridiculous in the name of living fully, at least not for yourself. I simply ask you not to dally in whatever rut you are currently sitting in. Do not let death find you hiding from it. Do not let the precious time you've been given trickle away while you tremble at people, and family-members, at church, at life. 

    Do not isolate yourself from the body of Christ nor be the ember on its own.

    I would much rather sing "We are God's People," not "I am God's person." I would much rather sing today and die tomorrow, than live tomorrow and not sing today. In fact let us not let anybody keep us from singing.

    I shall close with the aforementioned hymn  We are God's People. And if you disagree with my stance on this whole matter, please don't shut me out of your life, please tell me why and how you disagree, we'll have a discussion, we'll learn, and listen, and grow. In Revelation when Christ speaks to the Churches, His greatest commendation and exhortation is that we overcome. "He who overcomes," he says, "I will make him a pillar in the temple of my God..." 

"He who overcomes, I will grant to him to sit down with me on my throne..." 

"He who overcomes and keeps my deeds until the end, to him I will give authority over the nations..."

"He who overcomes...I will not erase his name from the book of life, and I will confess his name before my father and before His angels..."

"To him who overcomes, I will grant to eat of the tree of life..."

"He who overcomes will not be hurt by the second death..."

    This theme is harped on through the whole book. Please do not misunderstand me, I am not saying we are living out the book of Revelations or anything of that sort. I am saying that Christ has called us to conquer the storm, not to wait it out. How we will do that is between each person and the Lord, but please, let us make sure that we are doing it together. God did not intend us to live as distant stars in "a fellowless firmament."

          We Die alone, for on its own each ember loses fire:

                 Yet joined in one, the flame burns on,

                         To give warmth and light, and to inspire.

     ~ Christianna