27 And just as it is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment – Hebrews 9:27
Introduction
I remember as a young boy of six years of age playing with my cousin Mark, who was one year younger than I. We were out in the yard of his family’s farm in the shadow of the milk parlor and barn playing as carefree as two young boys could. And should.
After so many years, a lot of the details escape me, but I do remember being impressed by how quiet my cousin was and the gentle soul that he had. At an age that a lot of children are animated and seeking attention (often referred to as hyper and obnoxious), Mark was almost “angelic” in demeanor.
I am sure that my memory of my little cousin is biased because of the tragedy that was soon to follow our last play time together. But I can’t separate reality from bias at this point, I can only relate impressions etched forever on my mind.
When Mark did not show up for dinner one evening, his concerned parents and elder siblings made a search for him. From what I understand, it was his oldest brother who found him above the milk parlor. Mark was dead, the result of an accident. His gentle little frame forever stilled. His death forever casting a shadow on our souls.
Because he died so young, I don’t have a lot of memories of my cousin, but looking back, I believe it was he who first “introduced” me to death. It was an introduction I wish had been prolonged. Indefinitely!
Appointment
I still remember the night that my uncle called to tell us of Mark’s death. How does a father make such a phone call? Torn with sorrow, his voice often failed him as he shared what details he could of the tragedy. I did not fully comprehend what was happening at first, but I knew it must be something bad as the air was so heavy with sorrow and tears were freely flowing.
Later, as my mother was on the phone trying to console her elder sister in her time of loss, my father tried to explain to me the reality of death. Mark was gone and he wasn’t coming back. Ever.
Death is so personal. Death is so permanent.
As he sat beside me on the couch trying to make death “understandable”, I am sure my father was battling his own emotions and shock. As he struggled to find the appropriate words, I coped the best I could; I drew a picture of Mark and I playing in the yard. Just as two boys should. Just as we never would again.
What I tried to ignore as a young boy has become all too real over the years. Death is always near, and some day it is going to claim every one of us. Mark’s death may have come at a young age, but young or old, we all have an appointment with it.
Man
When we went to the Funeral Home to pay our respects to my “angelic” little cousin, I found that he was not “alone”. Sadly, death had been working overtime. As I walked up the steps and entered the viewing room(s) there were two caskets instead of one. Against the North wall was the casket of Mark, and around the corner against the East wall was the casket for the deceased wife of one of my Father’s best friends.
Needless to say, death can be overwhelming. As we pulled “double duty” consoling not one, but two families, death’s sting felt very painful. There laid little Mark, dead before he had a chance at life, and there laid Donna, her life taken by her own hands because she didn’t want to face the life ahead of her.
Regardless of “how” and “when”, death is the fate of mankind, whether a young boy or a middle aged woman. When the Bible tells us that it is appointed for man to die once, you can put your name in that statement.
The man who refuses to face the fact of his own death, is a fool! – Martyn Lloyd-Jones
Once
I recall my first days of school as a First grader, but not for the usual reasons. I wasn’t particularly fond of school, I was too shy, so the new teacher and the new classmates were more intimidating than exciting to me. Rather, the reason I remember those days is because Mark was just beginning kindergarten. Classes began on Tuesday, August 31, 1971, and Mark’s tragedy happened just two days later.
On Monday, September 6, 1971 Mark’s classmates were at school reciting the alphabet and doing basic math. They would have their break and enjoy their milk. They would probably also enjoy a suspenseful game of Heads Down, Thumbs Up. And while his classmates were participating in their lessons and games, Mark’s little body was being laid to rest. His little seat at the classroom table was empty.
As we were trying to process Mark’s death, his brother Darryl, one year my senior (a big second grader) and I walked down to the kindergarten classroom during recess and peered through the window. With our curious faces pressed against the glass we looked for Mark’s seat. I’m not sure how we expected to find it but I suppose we were just looking for a sense of closure. Was he really gone?
For the next 13 years an empty desk would remind us he was. Three days in his seat was all Mark had. He would never again walk the halls or for that matter even get a chance to know his classmates. For two young boys standing on the outside looking in, there was something very sobering about the mystery of it all. To keep things in perspective however, Darrel did inform me as we walked back to our different classrooms, that his parents let him keep Mark’s milk money that was set aside for the week. I’m not so sure it lessened the pain however.
One chance is all we have on this earth. We won’t be reincarnated, and our money can’t buy us additional time. The fact that “we only die once” shouldn’t be motivation to live recklessly and foolishly, but should make us sober and wise stewards of the time we have.
After
It has been a long time since Mark “introduced” me to death. Death has become even more personal since then. A decade ago, it “stole”our last child. This time, it was my uncle’s turn to be on the consoling side of the Funeral Home visitation. As he turned away from our baby’s casket, my uncle was overcome with sorrow. And why not? Death has now taken two of his children.
It is inevitable that my uncle reflected on his own loss(es) as he saw Brooke’s little casket. As he turned to walk away, perhaps in fear of making an unwanted scene, I quickly grabbed my uncle and assured him that we were okay. With tears in his eyes, and his voice broken perhaps like it was on that tragic night so many years ago, he could only mutter, “It only gets harder with time”.
While I am better acquainted with death and the fact that the grieving process is a never ending one, I am also more confident that death is not the end. Quite to the contrary, it is the “after” that the writer of Hebrews refers to that is eternal. While death may be personal, I have come to learn that it is not permanent. Which is why Christ could refer to it as sleep (John 11:11).
Judgement
It is intriguing to me that although death awaits all of us, we try to ignore it and live as though we are immune to it. If the Bible teaches us anything, it is the fact that we are eternal beings. Accordingly, death is not the end of the road, it is only a passageway to our eternal destiny.
The judgement that awaits us on the other side of death is not based on what we “do” on earth, but rather on where we put our faith. Despite my flawed memory, I realize that my little cousin was not perfect. But the Babe in the Manger was.
Christ came to earth as a baby and then lived a perfect life fulfilling the Laws. On the cross he died for us and took the punishment for our sins. If we repent of our sins and put our faith in the work of Jesus we will not be judged (condemned) on the other side of death because Jesus has taken our judgement for us.
18 Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. – John 3:18
Offering
One of my favorite things about verse 27 of Hebrews chapter nine is the verse that follows it!!
28 so Christ, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, will appear a second time, not to deal with sin but to save those who are eagerly waiting for him.
While we may not be able to avoid our appointment with death, we can avoid judgement and an eternity in Hell thanks to Jesus, who willingly kept his “appointment” with death. Christ has been offered to bear our sins. For those of us that are “eagerly waiting for him” (have placed our faith in Christ alone), “salvation” is our eternal destiny.
The “offering” definitely keeps the “appointment” in perspective.
It has been nearly 50 years since Mark’s death. He is in a place where there are no empty seats and no sorrows. He is immune from sickness and unfamiliar with tears. The daily struggles we face because of sin are foreign to him. The same can’t be said for his father who is now nearly 90 years old and time worn.
I am convinced that if my uncle could see his son today, his little boy would correct him in his gentle spirit. In Christ, it only gets better “after” time.