I am writing this on Good Friday morning. Four weeks ago today, my five-year-old granddaughter Madison was scheduled to come for a sleepover with Grandma and Grandpa. Marion and I were looking forward to this, but a couple of days before she was to come, public concerns about COVID-19 began to multiply, and that weekend businesses and schools began to close. We haven’t had that sleepover yet. It will have to wait.
This pandemic has been much harder on some than on others. Marion and I have had no real hardship, and we are profoundly grateful and humbled for what we can only view as God’s protection and provision for us. Yes, we’ve had to defer some plans, we miss our children, grandchildren and friends, and our finances will probably be affected long term, but we are well and safe, and very conscious of the kindness of God to us.
Still, the pandemic, coupled with the recent death of my friend Jerry Wallace, who succumbed to cancer 10 days ago, has led to some sober reflection. Why should some be spared and others not? Why should I be alive and well when my friend – a devoted servant of God, younger than I – has come to the end of his earthly journey, leaving behind a grieving family?
The only answer God has given me is that my life is not my own. It belongs to Jesus. He purchased me on the cross and paid the ultimate price so that I could be free from the bondage of living for myself and live instead for him. I don’t get to decide how long or short my life in this age will be. I’ve been set free from worrying about those details. I do get to decide whether I am going to spend the years I have left focussing on myself or living for Jesus and His Kingdom.
The Apostle Paul summed up the Christian life this way.
I have been crucified with Christ
and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.
The life I now live in the body,
I live by faith in the Son of God,
who loved me and gave himself for me.
COVID-19 should not really be a shock for a disciple of Jesus. This pandemic shows us that we are not really in control. It is a reminder that we live in a dying age. Our hope is not in this age but in the age to come.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to get sick or die any more than the next person, and I certainly believe that it’s an important mandate for Christians to help relieve suffering and provide care for those in need as we are able. In doing this, we follow the example of our Master. But our motivation should not be fear of suffering, but hope in the age to come and the promise of resurrection.
Jerry Wallace’s passing has been a strong and compelling reminder to me to live my life in view of eternity. Because of the cross of Jesus, I have hope for this life and for the age to come. I know that my sins are forgiven and I know that I have an eternal inheritance awaiting me in a world made new. I don’t have to be ruled by the fear of sickness, death or economic hardship. I am free to serve God by serving others, without worrying about how things will turn out for me.
Whatever happens to me in this life, I can live with my eyes fixed on the One who went to the cross for me and is seated at the Father’s right hand. So can you. If you believe in Jesus, you are free to live in hope. No matter what happens to you, it will be OK in the end. Everything in this age is temporary. His Kingdom is coming. All things will be made new, and you can expect to live with Him forever.
If you don’t yet share that confidence, this is a great time to surrender your life to Jesus and ask him to give you a new heart, a new spirit and a new focus. If you already share my hope in Jesus as coming King, then let me encourage you to use this COVID-19 crisis as a great opportunity to find ways of serving and encouraging those around you. Ask the Holy Spirit what to do. He’ll be glad to show you.
God bless you.