“We made a superb team, didn’t we?”
These were among the many last words of a dying man, supinely whispered to his spouse of nearly 60 years.
The eyes of husband and wife met one final time, and wistful, knowing smiles were exchanged in a quiet benediction for a holy moment: Mr. Virgil Rainey passed from his wife, Jewel, from life on this world and into the presence of the Savior he trusted.
My wife and I had come to know these dear folks while I served as interim pastor of a small congregation in late 2019. When I had begun filling the pulpit at Good Shepherd Church in rural North Carolina, the term “COVID” had not entered the general public vernacular. Months later, it appeared to be essentially the most repeated word on this planet — and for a punishingly long couple of years, it probably was.
In some ways, the world would change without end. But because it has for all of history, human nature would stay the identical. More about that in a moment.
One shouldn’t be within the pastorate long before hospitals, emergency rooms, and, yes, funeral homes grow to be fairly common workplaces. This a part of the minister’s vocation—serving the Lord by serving bereaved families—is really an honor.
I had only been in seminary a matter of weeks when asked to help a close-by church that had no senior minister. Only days into that project, I discovered myself on the bedside of a dying church member. Shortly thereafter, this seminarian was nervously preparing to officiate his first funeral.
(Let me gratefully express my belief that there can be ample crowns in heaven for helpful mortuary Directors who kindly assist first-time pastors entering the realm of bereavement ministry; God’s blessings on you all.)
As pastoral experience accrued and diverse end-of-life ministry experiences got here along, something became vividly clear: When death is near, people only care about two things: God and family. Rural or urban, the context didn’t matter. Cultural and economic status aside, the emotions were the identical: In the ultimate moments of life, people care concerning the Lord and their family members.
This is deeply significant: I’ve never been on the bedside of a terminal patient expressing regret over not having driven nicer cars. Never have I listened to a dying man lament not having spent more hours on the office. No one, within the “final moments of the fourth quarter,” obsesses over the variety of followers on any social media platform. Nope. Not in any respect.
But in 35 years of pastoral care, I actually have come to expect the guaranteed pattern that flows from our ingrained human nature. If, within the windfall of God, our final breaths are experienced with any degree of consciousness, we can be serious about relationships.
What relationships? Without fail, God and family. I actually have, on at the least two occasions, called on individuals who were someday professed atheists and, lower than 24 hours later, were gratefully received all the things I could tell them concerning the guarantees of a merciful God.
It is humbling to encircle a dying person and pray, holding hands with loving members of the family who (I might later learn) had previously not been on speaking terms for years. An impending “goodbye” has a way of arousing us from the stupor of unforgiveness and grudges. Perhaps death and sudden awareness of mortality enable us to listen to God’s Holy Spirit, who had been gently calling all along.
Yes, God and His love make for “a superb team.”
Virgil Rainey’s sweet parting words to his faithful wife I discovered especially meaningful. The word “team” was apropos because many many years ago, Virgil had been a minor league baseball star. In his younger days, Rainey had been on baseball teams that won league championships across the U.S. But his faith in Jesus made him a part of the best line-up of all — the redeemed of the Lord.
In a world of materialism, narcissism, and, well, unrelenting noise, God freely offers that which is priceless: Salvation. A loving community called “the church.” Marriage, family, Christian growth, and assurance through the guarantees of His Word. The Raineys (and countless others) knew that life’s real treasures are found — nowhere online — but in on a regular basis life.
The Old Testament prophet Micah (6:8) speaks of the Lord’s call and expectations for every of us: to “act justly, to like faithfulness, and to walk humbly together with your God.” The Hebrew word “hesed”—often translated here as “mercy” or “kindness”—is a term wealthy with meaning. It speaks of God’s “covenant faithfulness,” which He (as much as we are going to allow) will cultivate in our own lives.
Love. Commitment. Sacrifice. Faithfulness. These holy attributes — that are guaranteed to forge lasting relationships — make life truly fulfilling. Better to hunt them now, while they might be cultivated and enjoyed. Our mortal lives — just like the “bling” of this world — are quickly gone. Isn’t God gracious, to offer us the chance to prioritize now?
Photo Credit: ©Pexels/August de Richelieu
