This week we lost a beloved brother in Christ, Bob Worth, a devoted man of faith who reflected joy and love to all who knew him. His smile could light up a room, even in his last, often pain-filled days. His desire was to go home to his Lord and his wife Carol, who preceded him in death. Still he patiently waited for that release. Still he encouraged those who came to visit him, and listened attentively to words from scripture and lyrics to familiar hymns and praise songs. He was sincere to the end. He was the real deal. And while he will be missed terribly, all that knew and loved him longed for his homecoming.
How mysterious is this paradox we as Christians encounter, when, with the apostle Paul, we come to that point in life when we say “for me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. I am torn between the two:I desire to be with Christ which is better by far, but it is necessary for you that I remain in the body.” (Phil. 1:21ff). Bob understood his life was not his own. He had been bought with a price. His days had been ordained and number by his Creator. And it was his Heavenly Father’s decision as to when that homecoming would take place.
I know that I never left a visit with him without feeling personally challenged and strengthened because of his great faith. The fruit of the Spirit oozed from him. Even in his discomfort, I often had to remind him, “It’s OK to close your eyes and sleep, Bob. I will just sit here quietly with you.” Even in those moments he sought to be attentive to his company, to be a good listener.
Now that he is “gone,” I—we, too, experience an emotional paradox. Sadness and joy. I used to think Juliet said it best in Shakespeare’s classic Romeo and Juliet: “Parting is such sweet sorrow.” She was merely anticipating a momentary absence from her beloved Romeo. She fully expected to see him again, and soon. But then I read the words of John the apostle in Revelations 14, and concluded that his description wins the prize.
“And I heard a voice from heaven saying to me, Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from now on: Yes, said the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors; and their works do follow them.”
Though perhaps no reality associated with the human race frightens us more or is more mysterious than death, John calls those who die in the Lord blessed. And for obvious reasons. In death, we are finally at rest. We cease our striving. Our struggles are over. And we are fully in God’s presence—we are with the Lord. He no longer is experienced where we are (condescension) but rather where He is (ascension).
The reference to our works following us reminds us of (at least) two realities: 1) only those things which were born of the Spirit, that had eternal significance, will accompany us into the next life and 2) those seeds sown by us in the Spirit to others will continue to grow and bear fruit in them for generations—our legacy. The phrase “you can’t take it with you” is not entirely true. 1 Corinthians 3:10-15 says otherwise.
But facing our last hours on this earth does have a way of focusing us on what parts of life have lasting value. It is not “the one who dies with the most toys wins.” After all, toys or not, 100% of the human race ends up dead, sooner or later.
This week, we were reminded that, for one who faithfully served among us, and for all believers, suffering, pain, and loss are only temporary—only a part of this life. What endures forever is peace with God, joy in His presence, and sweet reunion with those who loved Him and have gone before us. As we celebrate the life and homecoming of Bob Worth, may each of us pray with the Psalmist: Teach us to number our days that we might apply our hearts to wisdom. (Psalm 90)
-tad
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