año de muerte

over the past year, i've experienced death as never before, at the culmination of three fronts which i believe are serving to prepare me for my own, one day. death is painful, but the victim it claims is not its sole target. we may each one day come to accept it--as the equal opposite to life, as the final doorway on our paths--and some of us might even long for it, welcome it, or face it head-on; but death will still cause its pain, still deal its damage. to us at the time, it may mean nothing, yet to those who loved us, it will mean more than we know.
and this is a truth i have long cherished. i can proudly say, to this day, that i have never contemplated suicide, solely because of this point: i believe it is a selfish act. i would love to be free of the innumerable pains of this world, but if the cost of that freedom is a pain which i would be bringing upon other people, i would rather put up with it all until the choice is no longer mine to make.
there was an incident within my college years-- and i know this seems as if i'm straying off topic, but it is really pivotal to my theme-- there was an incident which pains me to recall, but if you were to ask me of it i would not keep it from you. it ultimately caused the end of one of my friendships, in a really humorous if not utterly pointless way. now, i have often felt misjudged by those who have severed contact with me, but those moments have all held that striking similarity which should not be taken lightly: it is never an objective decision. and this i've understood only because one such relationship was restored after the person realized how silly it was to have broken it. it really defines what it means to be a friend, and i am indebted to her for that.

"Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another..."
-Romans 13.8a-b (NIV)

1
roughly one year ago, my best friend made a conscious decision to end our relationship, yet he did not clue me into the fact until 12 months later. so, needless to say, the months in between where i continued to reach out to him--in trying to understand his actions for and reactions to certain happenings--were received by him in poor taste, to say the least.
in the moment he finally revealed his heart to me, i felt as Christ crucified. denied, accused, condemned, threatened; whatever harm could be dealt shy of physical contact, his tongue unleashed upon me. in his choice of words from beginning to end, he proved the writings of James 3 from beginning to end. and what hurt the most was that he believed himself right. he did not come to listen to me--i was not up for trial. this was the hanging. and this from a boy i'd once called brother in multiple senses.
a year ago, he convinced us of his social death. with that came confusion, a desire for reason, and silence as only an actual death can create. when he finally renewed contact, it was from the welling-up of evil thoughts, unforgiven trespasses--however substantial their cases proved--and a subjective decision. for me, his attack catered to my maxims (as proof of the concept that you have to know someone well enough to know how to hurt them), but lacked anything godly beyond that.
yes, i am pained to say some of these things, but it is all in love that i speak them. prior to this friend's outrage, i spoke no ill of him, though i was accused of it. i shared sad truth with wholly Spiritual intentions, among trustworthy Christians. we prayed for his health, for the opening of his eyes to the harm he was so freely dishing out (and this not toward myself). yet now, after knowing how far he's gone, i still speak no ill of him, only truth. and i finally make it public not because i wish to "slander" him, but both because it is my heart which struggles with this, and because i love God. and to hear a child like this blaspheme the very things His Word stands for--namely, in this holiest of weeks, forgiveness--pains me to realize the very curses spoken of toward such people; and if keeping this secret damns him, i would much prefer to rebuke him to his face. if the rock on which the church was built (Mt 15.16-23) can be called Satan by Jesus, then how much more should we as his disciples be willing to call out each other's sins? not for their ill, but for their salvation from it.

i still love him, still pray for him, still wish to speak to him. i still hope that he will return to his first love, if indeed his heart was once there. it is in dark times such as these when the measure of what you know about someone is tested. doubt is a tricky business, especially when you cannot know a person's heart, but there is an equal extent to which i would not like to dwell on the thought. because i know that i cannot know, i would rather remain in hope.

"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things."
-Philippians 4.8 (NIV 1984)

2
i have met a Godsend, a true warrior of the faith. his name is Brett Anthony Rivera, and what pains me most is that i met him on his deathbed. and yet, i can honestly say, i've never seen him at his worst.
he was born with a cyanotic heart defect which crippled him his entire life, but anyone who'd known him outside of the hospital would never have guessed it. in fact, the miracle of Brett was that his heart was actually the strongest part of his body. when passages such as Deut. 6.5, Psalm 86.11 and Mt 12.34b speak of the heart, it is not merely an organ: it is a man's center, his being; it is his motivation. while Brett's physical heart was never at its healthy prime, the moment when his spiritual heart was made sure of its Lord and Savior, his whole body was affected by the healing strength He provided.
i believe whole-heartedly (*wink*) that Brett had many more years given to him than his physical body could have supplied him. many people agree that joy and happiness play a vital role in staying healthy-- that it is most often when the inner being gives up that the physical body gives in. we as God-fearing people know this, because the Maker of the physical and the Maker of the spiritual are one. this is why David allies a willing spirit with sustenance (Psalm 51.10-12), and that only obtained from God.
at his funeral and all the grief-stricken days leading up to it, countless stories were told of how Brett lived, unafraid and full of faith. he was always prepared to give reason for his hope (I Pet. 3.15b). he made light of his suffering (Rom. 8.18), didn't complain, didn't regret. he extended forgiveness to those in his life who needed it most. and if anything in his life seemed too serious to bear, he spoke truth in love, and humor was not beyond him.

i am saddened not to have known him then. my wife and i visited him twice in the hospital, praying--as good Christians are wont to do--for his healing, for the heart donation, for him to recover from his depleted state. but prayer has ever befuddled me. it is not just a lifting-up of our wants and desires, but it must first be set upon God's will, God's heart. Brett knew this more than many of us care to grasp. Brett already had God's heart within him, and his way of life shined it out to the world. Brett did not die because of unanswered prayers, or rejected prayers, or prayers unheard. Brett did not die because God's heart failed him. Brett's physical body died because the whole of creation is subjected to decay (Rom. 8.20-24a), and he was as prepared as ever to receive his new body.
Brett was healed, he did recover, because God was his heart donor.

3
are you ready for this? because i admit, i am not.
death to self is the most difficult thing to accomplish. in fact, some might say it is impossible; and that's the whole point (Mt 19.26), isn't it? the apostle John has been particularly convicting in regard to this endeavor, claiming that those who abide in their Father do not sin, that those who do sin have never known Him (I Jn 3.6). those are harsh words to hear when removed from the context that the Spirit allows us: we are not perfect, we are not pure, but when we truly know Him--when we do see Him--we will be pure (I Jn 3.2). it all hinges on belief, on hope (I Jn 3.3).

ascetism is generally depicted negatively. i'd never considered that that is what this is about until i'd read someone's censure of it. but that is what we are ultimately called to. John called it loving the world (I Jn 2.15-16), Paul called it gratification (Gal. 5.18-21); in making ourselves pure, James calls us to resist (Ja. 4.7-10), and Peter tells us to be self-controlled (I Pet. 1.13-2.3).

"For you have spent enough time in the past doing what pagans choose to do.... They think it strange that you do not plunge with them into the same flood of dissipation, and they heap abuse on you."
-I Peter 4.3a, 4 (NIV 1984)

we all have our convictions in Christ, we're all struggling with something. but what we need is to be surrounded by a people aware of that fact, rather than a people unsupporting of it. and i have seen this among the Christian and the "pagan" alike, but the former not only comes as greater surprise, it also causes the greater damage. to believe that another human has the right to speak louder to your heart than the Spirit who is residing there is a dangerous compromise.
self-denial is self-destructive, so the self is not inclined to see the process through to its end. if we are to succeed in overcoming our sinful desires, it must be begun and be carried to fruition by an outside Force who is able to do so. and that is from where our hope stems.
yesterday, we remembered his sacrifice. we remembered the reason for it as surely as we recall it day by day. tomorrow, we look to his defeat of the curse, which reconciles a sinner to His presence. and in believing that he did what we could never attain because he himself was the perfect, prophesied Son of God--and for no other reason but to exercise His nature of love--we have the hope which states we too will be resurrected (I Thess. 4.14). he destroyed the shroud of death (Is. 25.7) and he ransomed those held by it (Hosea 13.14).

"...the blended holiness and compassion of the Godhead [is] that He passed by the transgressions of His creatures, yet could not pass them by without an expiation."
-Thomas Chalmers