Kopp Disclosure
(John 3:19-21)
@#$%
@#$%
I buried Bessie
on Wednesday.
She was 96.
She was
uncommonly peaceful, positive, cheerful, and calming; and she was not afraid of
what happens after the last breath in time.
In other words,
she really believed in Jesus.
@#$%
If it were not
for der Beruf, my
wife, iron pony, golf, gluttony, and sex, I would/could/should become a monk.
I'd go to,
uh, wherever monks go to focus on God apart from the distractions, meanness,
madness, and misery of life in the...
Maybe the Sinai
or Ava, Missouri.
Be that as it is, I
recalled a story from the 4th and 5th centuries desert fathers of Egypt and
made a confession at Bessie's memorial service that I'd never retold/told in
nearly four decades of presiding at funerals.
@#$%
Story.
An elder was
dying motionless in Scete.
Brothers gathered
around him and began to weep.
Miraculously, he
opened his eyes and began to laugh.
He stopped; then
laughed again.
He stopped; then
laughed a third time.
The brothers
asked, "Why are you laughing while we weep?"
He replied,
"I laughed the first time because
you fear death. I laughed the second time because you are not ready for
death. I laughed the third time because from labors I go to my rest."
Then he closed
his eyes, died, and went home to Jesus.
Selah.
@#$%
Confession.
I have not feared
death since really believing in Jesus.
I'm with Paul -
the guy who wrote a big part of the NT.
I'd rather be
home with Jesus than anywhere else; knowing, of course, I can't yet because of der Beruf and...
Jesus said paradise begins the first
nano-second after the last breath through/with Him.
That sounds a lot
better than...
@#$%
I buried Bessie
on Wednesday.
She was 96.
I'm almost 61.
Bessie really
believed in Jesus.
So do I.
Death?
I don't think so.
@#$%
Really believing
in Jesus, it's hard not to belly-laugh-on-the-floor with Paul while reading
1 Corinthians 15:55.
@#$%
@#$%
Blessings and Love!
8 comments:
I get the sense I am the only person who ever seems to repond to your Disclosures. Not sure what that says about you ... or me.
This week, I had something very strange happen. A Facebook friend died unexpectedly. At 31, if someone suddenly dies, it shocks everyone. This was so sudden, the details are in the hands of the Coroner.
He was an on-fire Christian and I had the chance to cheer his faith walk publicly. He struggled with the blackened debris of a divorce and the desperation of a father who wanted ot show his love for his two young girls as often as possible.
His most recent posts talked about how glad he was to be alive ... about the joy of Jesus' saving grace ... about hos whtings were beginning to work in his favor more and more.
And then he died.
He rests in the arms of the Risen Lord ... he has no pain ... only we who endure our troubled lives on this broken earth carry pain ... and look forward to every tear being dried and every wound being healed.
We miss Shaun ... but expect to see him again in glory.
Actually, brother, we get responses; but, yes, you and a few others are more, uh, regular than others.
Truth is most folks, especially clergy in fear of offending anyone who might disrupt the flow of position or perks or pension credits (check out Matthew 23 for parallels), don't care enough to engage just about anyone about anything even if it insults the holiness of God. We just went through that in our presbytery; but that's another matter.
Anyway, sometimes we also lose comments because of our dumb phones and so on.
Most important, I praise God for the glory that you have shared here; and I praise God for your consistent fidelities.
If there were more like Him through you, our country and mainline Christianity wouldn't be so...
Blessings and Love!
Amazing reading this evening. And I truly enjoyed the BS&T, one of my favorites from my college years.
Last night, our congregation was challenged to read/recite/pray the Jesus Creed this Lent:
Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. And...love your neighbor as yourself.
Thanks Bob...I was going to ask you for the monk story.
Shepherds (and under-shepherds), as much as they might want to get away from it all and become monks, have flocks to tend. The Shepherd wants his Bessies looked after until he calls them.
"A name, a name, what's in a name? A Rose would smell as sweet..."
A couple of weeks ago Rose (92) stepped across the threshold which Bessie has now passed. Rose, Bessie, does a name really matter? Perhaps not so much to Shakespeare, but to the Lord, very much.
For he calls all his seep BY NAME, lest, in even that nano-second of crossing the threshold they should somehow lose their way. But he calls his sheep, and his sheep know his voice, and they come to him, so that not one of the flock which he shep herd's for the Father, is lost.
And now, two precious lambs, Rose and Bessie, have likely become new BFFs, really forever, in the presence of their Savior.
Praise the Lord!
Bob,
My heart was touched by your telling of Bessie,but I am very thankful that Jesus took the sting out of death!
Amen, Amen, and Amen!!!
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