hughbiquitous

Randy Pausch has pancreatic cancer. This man, about ten years my senior at age 47, is on his way to death’s door. As I write this, he has perhaps months to live. Seemingly healthy, he has relocated his family from Pittsburgh, where he is a professor of computer science at Carnegie Mellon University, to his wife’s hometown of Norfolk, Virginia, so that she and his three children will be in a better situation when he inevitably passes.

Dr. Pausch has gained his moment of fame because of his “Last Lecture,” which is in wide circulation on the Internet (it’s about 90 minutes long; see below). As I thought about his remarkable composure—forbearing any comment on the attendant spiritual exigencies—I found myself pitying him, counting myself blessed to have such good health and to be so much better off.

Then I was reminded of Jonathan Edwards’ Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God:

It is no security to a natural man, that he is now in health, and that he does not see which way he should now immediately go out of the world by any accident, and that there is no visible danger in any respect in his circumstances. The manifold and continual experience of the world in all ages, shows this is no evidence, that a man is not on the very brink of eternity, and that the next step will not be into another world.

So while I am sobered by the grave situation Randy Pausch finds himself in, it gives me greater pause still to consider that I have no reason whatsoever to think I will outlive him.

The sad news just continues to pour in. One of my college friends writes about the Ebola outbreak in Uganda that has claimed the life of one of their World Harvest Mission colleagues.

It seems that one of the missionary doctors gave an Ebola patient an oxygen mask because the patient was suffocating from fluid in the lungs. He didn’t stop to put gloves on. Now he’s dead.

Like D.A. Carson said, you’ve got to be prepared for suffering and evil. (If you’ve never heard his sermon, On Being Prepared for Suffering and Evil, please listen — your attention will be rewarded: Part 1 & Part 2.) Once you’re in the middle of something like this, it’s too late to break out your theology textbook for answers. So decide now to trust God. It’ll be too late if you wait until the time comes.

As for me, I trust God more than I hate suffering and evil. But I really hate suffering and evil. A lot.

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. (Romans 8:18-25, ESV)

I’ve been discouraged a lot lately.

Here’s the latest link in my dark chain: yesterday, I was mildly irritated to wake up and discover one of my kids in the bed. Not a big deal by any means, but still, it was one of those “that’s not right” moments that gets your day off on the wrong foot.

A few hours later, I got a prayer request for a family whose only child—a sixth-grader—died. Her grieving mom wrote, “i held my precious baby today as she drew her last breath… to know that my precious girl is not sleeping in her bed, won’t be coming down this morning to jump in my lap, kiss me good morning, tell me she loves me, is killing me. i am rocked to my very core.”

While this poor mother will never again wake up to her daughter’s greeting, I’m getting annoyed at mine for being there when I woke up. Stupid, blind, ungrateful, proud, selfish fool! I hold myself in contempt… I repent… God have mercy on me, a sinner!

It’s not supposed to work that way… parents shouldn’t have to bury their children. It’s not supposed to be this way! Death is entirely alien, unnatural, and unwelcome. We have eternity in our hearts, but mortality in our flesh. The tension is unbearable. Chalk it up to sin, folks, and it’s a far bigger problem than any of us realizes. “The wages of sin is death,” and there’s a grieving mother and father paying up this week.

But John Piper—God bless him—gives me a handhold at times like these. He’s offered the following advice on how to fight for joy, advice which closely mirrors the content of his excellent book, When I Don’t Desire God: How to Fight for Joy…

1. Realize that authentic joy in God is a gift.

2. Realize that joy must be fought for relentlessly.

3. Resolve to attack all known sin in your life.

4. Learn the secret of gutsy guilt - how to fight like a justified sinner.

5. Realize that the battle is primarily a fight to see God for who he is.

6. Meditate on the Word of God day and night.

7. Pray earnestly and continually for open heart-eyes and an inclination for God.

8. Learn to preach to yourself rather than listen to yourself.

9. Spend time with God-saturated people who help you see God and fight the fight.

10. Be patient in the night of God’s seeming absence.

11. Get the rest, exercise, and proper diet that your body was designed by God to have.

12. Make a proper use of God’s revelation in nature.

13. Read great books about God and biographies of great saints.

14. Do the hard and loving thing for the sake of others (witness and mercy).

15. Get a global vision for the cause of Christ and pour yourself out for the unreached.

But for now I think it’s sufficient to quote another line of Piper’s… “Hug and cry first, give God-centered explanations later.“