Friday, March 29
Death--the Beginning of Real Living
Scripture: Philippians 1:20-25
As it is my eager expectation and hope that I will not be at all ashamed, but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. Yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account. Convinced of this, I know that I will remain and continue with you all, for your progress and joy in the faith

Poetry:
from Book of Hours
by Kevin Young

The light here leaves you
lonely, fading

as does the dusk
that takes too long

to arrive. By morning
the mountain moving

a bit closer to the sun.

This valley belongs
to no one—

except birds who name
themselves by their songs

in the dawn.
What good

are wishes, if they aren't
used up

The lamp of your arms.

The brightest
blue beneath the clouds—

We guess
at what's next

unlike the mountain

who knows it
in the bones, a music

too high
to scale.

*   *           *

The burnt,
blurred world

where does it end—

The wind
kicks up the scent

from the stables
where horseshoes hold

not just luck, but
beyond. But

weight. But a body

that itself burns,
begs to run.

The gondola quits just
past the clouds.

The telephone poles
tall crosses in the road.

Let us go
each, into the valley—

turn ourselves
& our hairshirts

inside out, let the world
itch—for once—

*           *           *

Black like an eye

bruised night brightens
by morning, yellow

then grey—
a memory.

What the light was like.

All day the heat a heavy,
colored coat.

I want to lie
down like the lamb—

down & down
till gone—

shorn of its wool.
The cool

of setting & rising
in this valley,

the canyon between us
shoulders our echoes.

Moan, & make way.

*           *           *

The sun's small fury
feeds me.

Wind dying down.

We delay, & dither
then are lifted

into it, brightness
all about—

O setting.
O the music

as we soar
is small, yet sating.

What you want—

Nobody, or nothing
fills our short journeying.

Above even the birds,
winging heavenward,

the world is hard
to leave behind

or land against—
must end.

I mean to make it.

Turning slow beneath
our feet,

finding sun, seen
from above,

this world looks
like us—mostly

salt, dark water.

*           *           *

It's death there
is no cure for

life the long
disease.

If we're lucky.

Otherwise, short
trip beyond.

And below.

Noon,
growing shadow.

I chase the quiet
round the house.

Soon the sound—

wind wills
its way against

the panes. Welcome
the rain.

Welcome
the moon's squinting

into space.
The trees

bow like priests.

The storm lifts
up the leaves.

Why not sing.

TO BE WITH CHRIST IS MUCH BETTER

Most of us are so tied to this old world that we can hardly fathom not being a part of it. It’s when an accident, a diagnosis of terminal illness, some sort of catastrophic disaster, or old age confronts us that we begin to seriously think about death and eternity. Although we don’t talk about it often, recent studies suggest that we are more concerned about losing those that are closest to us than about dying ourselves. People worry more about the pain and loneliness of dying than death itself. One day I asked my elderly aunt if she was afraid of death. She thought for a moment and then responded, “Not really, but I often wonder how I’m going to get from here to there.”

When the Apostle Paul wrote his letter to the Philippians he poured out his heart to the young church at Philippi with honesty, expressing the intense struggle he was having as he awaited his trial in Rome. He had plenty of time to ponder the two potential outcomes he faced: to remain in the saddle—continuing the exhausting work of shepherding those in his care OR if God willed, to depart this earthly sojourn and be in the presence of Christ. No doubt he was contemplating his mortality as his mind jumped back and forth between the two possibilities. 

I once heard a missionary tell a similar story of longing to be with Christ. After years of toiling in Japan, a dedicated servant of the Lord won a handful of zealous converts to the faith. One Sunday he described Heaven to them and the glories of being at home with Christ forever. Some days later, one of these young Christians attempted suicide. When the missionary reached her, he responded with consternation demanding, “What were you thinking?”  With a smile on her face she responded, “Oh, but I want to be with Jesus in Heaven, now!”  This zealous new convert in her intense love for the Lord responded with a seriously misguided action that would have gravely affected her Christian community. She needed to learn from her mentor/pastor,  "For me to live is Christ."

In the months leading up to our marriage, my wife and I spent quality time with a dear, elderly saint who had taken a special interest in us. We would pray with her on a weekly basis. She had such deep, abiding faith. Her commitment to Christ was contagious. A daily prayer she offered, one that I will never forget was, “Christ be glorified through me on the day of my death.”  Saint Paul says something similar, “That Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or death. For me to live is Christ and to die is gain.”

Author and teacher John Piper suggests five reasons why for Christians, death is gain. He understands that “to be with Christ” is the beginning of real living—living that we were never able to experience here on earth. He says: 1. “Our spirits will be made perfect since we will be finished sinning and disappointing the Lord.” 2. “We will be relieved from the pain in this world.” 3. “Christ will give us profound rest for our souls. There will be serenity beneath the eye and care of God that surpasses anything we have known.” 4. “We will experience a deep at-homeness. When we go home to Christ, there will be a [profound] contentment.” 5. “We will be with Christ [Himself], the one who overflows with love and infinite insight.” 

At the end of our scripture passage for today Paul says, “I know that I will remain and continue with you [a little while longer].” Christian martyr, Jim Elliot prayed, “Oh the fullness, pleasure, sheer excitement of knowing God on earth. . . I seek not a long life, but a full one, like you Lord Jesus.” The joy of fellowshipping with God on earth fills us with curious wonder as we imagine just a little, what it might be like to be in the presence of Christ in heaven. Carol Bomer gives us a glimpse of the other side with her enigmatic portrait, Light Walker. Carol’s painting reveals we’re on a journey that accelerates once we leave this life. We disappear from one world to begin adventures in a new realm where we have everything to gain—where living as God originally intended begins. One day, sooner for some than others, we will be privileged to walk with him in light.

PRAYER:
Lord, May these words be continually on my lips, “For me to live is Christ and to die is gain.” Grant me to meet this coming day in peace. In unforeseen events, let me not forget that you are everywhere present and fill all things. It is my humble yet bold prayer that somehow you might be glorified in me throughout the remainder of my life and especially on the day of my death.
Amen.

Barry Krammes
Artist and Arts Educator 
Professor Emeritus, Art Department 
Biola University

For more information about the artwork, music, and poetry selected for this day, we have provided resources under the “About”tab located next to the “Devotional”tab.