And Moses hit the rock..

Don't you love these rocks in the background. I am reminded by their strength that the drama of my life is on the front template, but in the background is the Rock, the Rock on which we stand. The depth and weight of these stones points to a power that outweighs them all not only in weight but in glory. 

Truth is like these boulders. They are immovable, and if you hit the rock head on, thinking that you shall win, you will lose. For the rock is the underpinning of reality, not only in the Person of Jesus Christ but in the words that He has spoken.  My rebellious generation learned this in what we called "the school of  hard knocks." We thought somehow that we could bend it to suit our purposes. Instead we were crushed. 

When I tend toward the maudlin in my reverie of life with and without Hans, I hit the rock. It brings me back to a central truth in Christianity— that I am seated with Christ in heavenly places and that it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me. 

And the implication of this is that even death has to be theologically understood. Our view of death cannot be too big, nor can it be too small. For if death is too big in our minds we  exalt it over the Son of God who overcame.  If our view is too small, then we dishonor the one who has died. For we are not just a creature of creation, we are also the crown of creation, made in His image and with the capacity for loving and knowing God. 

So even in death, our own or someone else's, the Spirit must teach us. He must teach us  how to  interpret its meaning.  Death is not the 4th person of the Trinity, nor is it just "passing away."  It is serious, but not absolute nor immutable. It can be loosed, as Lazarus was loosed in his decomposed state. Death was overturned, and put in its rightful place by the Lord of Lords and the King of Kings, who alone possesses the keys to life and death.

My theology forms my mind and controls my feelings. If I am incoherent with grief on the day of his funeral, I have elevated Death beyond its powers, if I minimize the event by denying the stages of grief then I have made Death too small, and have not dealt with the tragedy of loss and separation and have dishonored the one who has died. 

But on that day, not only will there be a burial of a precious brother, but there will be the burial of the "we", and of the "marriage." The bonds of marriage will be loosed and it will be Jesus Himself who unties the knot. I too am going through a ceremonial process, though I had not known it. I will be divested of my marriage robes and redressed in a widow's robe. That robe is different. And henceforth I will be viewed differently. I will see myself differently and I will be different.  


And everything I write will have Hans' indelible mark upon it.