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HANGING ON FOR DEAR LIFE #1

CASUALLY CLINGING TO HEAVEN

Have you ever clung to a rope, somewhere between Camp Three and Camp Four, at 25,000 feet on the upper slopes of Everest? Lose your grip and you plummet to an icy, anonymous death. The Bible talks about CLINGING to God with that same kind of intensity.

There are some absolutely sidesplitting — and often poignant — cartoons in Leadership magazine . . . and I'm going to get to one of the best in just a moment. But this terrific journal from Christianity Today also has exceptional resource articles for pastors, and back in the Fall 1996 issue is a wrenching personal story very simply entitled "Nicholas." Pastor Alvin C. Johnson, Jr. has as his "kicker" subtitle: "I was losing my son. Would I lose my faith as well?"

His little seven-year-old boy, Nicholas, had leukemia. They'd gone through a bone-marrow transplant which nearly killed the kid. But slowly his immune system was building back up. They had a big coming-home party at the house: tons of food, decorations, the works. Church friends really loaded up the pantry and they had a great time. A couple of months later the oncologist told them: "Your son is in remission," and they celebrated some more. Just one evening later, though, he called back with bad news. They'd found four leukemia cells in their son's marrow again. A test two weeks later confirmed it. Sitting there in the parking garage they had to tell Nick the news. "I knew it!" he cried. "The cancer's back, isn't it?" "We think so," Dad told him. And his little son looked right him and asked the question: "Dad, am I going to die?"

Pastor Johnson writes how he felt time just freeze right there. "Am I going to die?" And he had to tell him: "Yes, I think you are going to die."

Well, they had the option of going through more marrow transplants — painful, and almost guaranteed not to work. Or chemo — also a virtual dead-end. Or they could simply let nature take its course and prepare for the end. And little Nicholas Johnson decided he'd had enough. He wanted to quit the agonizing treatments, and just hope he could make it until Christmas.

For the rest of the article, this brave Christian pastor describes the challenge of trying to still do his work for the church and spend time with Nick. What do you do — stay at the office typing bulletins or go with your terminally ill son to the video arcade on the rare days where he's strong enough to go? Some members began to complain that the congregation was being shortchanged. Alvin's life was in complete turmoil, his emotions raw and edgy, his heart on his sleeve.

Right toward the end, he had a talk with his son one night. For the first time, Nick was afraid. What was going to happen? His dad assured him that he had a place in heaven.

"But Dad, I won't be able to be with you and Mommy and Sissy anymore," he begged. "Can't you put my body at the end of the bed or bury me in the backyard?"

"No, Nick, we can't do that," Alvin said, his voice tight. "But Mommy and I promise that we will be buried on either side of you. And we promise to remember you all our lives. We'll celebrate your birthday every year, including a party this year." That seemed to comfort his child; he never brought up the issue of death again. Nick made it not only to Christmas, but to Holy Week of the next spring, dying the Tuesday before Easter.

And now comes the moment I want us to reflect on as we begin this week of Bible study. Later that dark, tragic day, Alvin and Vickie were on the front walk watching the sunset. Their little two-year-old, Hannah, was playing in the yard, a reminder that life does continue. But this Christian leader's heart was breaking in pieces, of course. They wondered aloud if Nick could see that beautiful sunset, and then Alvin asked his wife: "What if this is all there is? What if dead is dead is dead? What if life does come to an end? What if Nick is no more?"

And his wife, who had certainly been through her own hell, thought for a long time before answering. Then she quietly said to him: "You may be right. But I CHOOSE to live my life believing [God's words are] true."

Isn't that incredible? Our title for this week is this: HANGING ON FOR DEAR LIFE, and I'll tell you . . . that's what these two courageous Christians did. They just held on. Through the tears and the grief and the darkness, they simply decided that they would believe in the promises of God.

The death of this little boy only takes us halfway through the article by his dad, and Alvin goes on to say about his wife's quiet "hang-on" statement:

"No single decision I've made has been as important as following my wife's decision. I would celebrate the resurrection as a DEFINING reality of life."

We decided on this radio topic a few months ago, and there's really one verse of Scripture that nudged us in this direction. It's found in Psalm 31:6, and the recent Clear Word paraphrase expresses it so powerfully:

"I hate it," King David writes, "when people cling to their useless idols. I HAVE DECIDED TO CLING TO YOU."

Notice, as we reflect on those last seven words, that this monarch of Israel makes a decision of the mind. There are many options open to a king. He could rely on his political power. He could place his trust in his armies. He could bank on the sage advice of trusted advisors. He could bet his kingdom on all the hoarded gold and silver and horses and chariots IN that kingdom. But King David, after surveying the spiritual landscape of his life, makes a choice. "I have decided to cling to You," he tells God. "Through good times and bad, when I've been good and when I've sinned, whether I'm popular or rejected by my people, I've made my choice for You."

What picture comes into your mind when you use that word "cling"? It's not a gentle touch, is it? It's not casually holding hands as you and your boyfriend walk through the park. No, "cling" is the word for when Rose DeWitt Bukater is dangling off the rail of Titanic, hanging on for dear life to Jack Dawson's hand. "Cling" is what you do when you don't have any other options. C. S. Lewis once observed, from personal experience after his wife died, that there was a great difference between using a piece of cord to tie up a box and hanging onto that same thin, frail piece of line off the edge of a cliff.

On the lighter side, for a moment here, also from Leadership magazine, is a cartoon where a pastor in his office has the secretary come in with a question. "It's Monty Williams," she informs him. "He wants to know if he can audit your discipleship class on total commitment."

Well, friend, I'm sure you catch the oxymoron there, the conundrum. You don't casually audit – from the back row of the classroom – a course on total commitment. But the human instinct, if we have options other than God, is to always keep them open. Which makes it all the more difficult for a wealthy, prospering, popular, adored king of Israel to "cling" to Jehovah. And yet this was David's decision. This was the decision Vickie and Alvin made there in the darkness of that Tuesday evening after saying goodbye to Nick.

I think the spiritual discipline for you and me is to make the same decision NOW, today, even if we're not driving home from the cemetery. Back when the World Trade Center towers came crashing down to earth, many, many people instinctively found their way to churches. "I will cling to God," they said, especially because all other secure foundations seemed to be gone. On September 11 you can do that. But how many churches were filled on September 9, two days earlier? Or these many months later? Friend, you and I have got to learn to cling to God, not just because of disasters, but because God is good, and because God is our only hope, and because every other line we think is so secure is, as the Bible puts it, "useless idols."

Right at the end of this incredible magazine article, "Nicholas," Pastor Johnson shares how, even when you "cling," life can still be hard. It was difficult to get back to pastoring. His heart was still broken, and soon the insensitive members in his congregation began to openly complain. "We're tired of hearing ‘Nick' stories. We want the old Al back." The Johnsons eventually moved to a new parish, but the challenges and hurts were still very real.
And he gives us a P.S. at the end, which he picked up from a Chuck Swindoll book.

"When faith is shattered," he writes, "it is time to rely on the faith of others, for my faith was gone."

Isn't that a powerful picture? Friend, when you can't cling, when your faith is seeping away, let others help. Let us help. You don't have to hold onto the branch of heaven alone. Invite a loved one to have some faith on your behalf, while you slowly get back your own.
Speaking of clinging, Alvin and Vickie Johnson are certainly hanging onto the promise of this verse — and they say so — as they wait to soon be with Nick again. Romans 8:18:

"I reckon the sufferings of this present time are nothing compared to the glory that shall be revealed to us."