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An inalienable right
Years ago, Danny and some friends were on their way to the Platte River on a hot summer day. They were all of 13, if that, sun-drenched and looking forward to jumping into the cool river water. On the way, they passed a gravel pit, and heard cries of distress coming from the water. A young boy, maybe 5 or 6, was going under for the last time. Danny dove in, and dragged the breathless child to shore, horrified when the youngster finally captured enough breath to gasp, "My sister is still in there."
While one friend ran for help, barefoot through the rock strewn field to the subdivision where they all lived, Danny and the other friend turned back to the water. Danny dove back in, as did his non-swimming friend. Fearing another casualty, Danny threw the non-swimmer back on shore and then dove, again and again trying to find the boy's sister. His efforts failed. Long moments later, too many moments later, the rescue personnel arrived and after a lengthy search, recovered her body. Danny was done in. His physical exhaustion would pass with time and adequate rest. His emotional exhaustion would last for years. He was a long time coming to terms with the events of that day, haunted by what he thought was misplaced gratitude from the parents, because he had failed to save both children. And he was left to wonder, why one and not the other?
It was a lot for a 13-year-old to process. It's a lot for anyone of any age to process.
The event certainly inspired Danny to insist that all three of our children learn to swim, early and well. They did, each one competing as Brighton Bullfrogs on our city's swim team.
It also inspired more than one sleepless night over the years as he considered the girl who didn't survive.
But he never questioned his own motives that day. He understood in a very basic way that life is precious and worth any sacrifice.
When his mom was hospitalized last spring, she confessed from her hospital bed that "we don't know how to die." She's right. We don't. I've long been mystified by the sometimes desperate measures taken in our culture to extend life - sacrificing resources, quality of life, even going against our inborn morals by authorizing the harvest of stem cells from aborted fetuses, seeking in them the secret of life. All this when the outcome is always the same. It never varies. Scripture makes it clear that it is appointed unto man once to die, and then comes judgement.
Nevertheless, we fight death, tooth and nail. We cling to life, because we know we were created to live. Death, you see, wasn't in the original scheme. This, the first lie in history, was brought to us by the Great Deceiver himself. And since that lie was taken as truth, man has feared death with every breath.
However, all of that changed on a day, long ago, on a hill far away. Jesus, though he knew no better than we how to die (witness again his time in the Garden of Gethsemane), he did so willingly, removing the sting of death from all who will believe.
Still the Author of life, he, in that one act of sacrifice, restored to man his right to life and life everlasting.
By one man sin entered, and death is sin's consequence and companion. And, as is always the case, evil takes even the most innocent of prisoners, including that young girl just looking to cool off on a hot summer's day.
But sin and death are thwarted, by the death of the only sinless man, Jesus. Oh, that we might believe, and in believing find life and lose forever our fear of death.
"Jesus said to her, 'I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?'" John 11: 26, 26 (NIV)
Things you won't see in heaven:
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