What Is Your Only Comfort in Life?

            I’ve mentioned to you before that Saturday nights for me are sacrosanct—my time for getting ready for Sunday, praying, going over the sermon, and generally getting my “game face” on. Friday nights are also sacrosanct—it is family night, and most Friday nights we pull the blinds early, make pizza, and spend time together as a family. We watched The Avengers this past Friday night (very entertaining show!), and enjoyed a wonderful night together. Then the bottom fell out. After the kids were tucked into bed I received an email from my mentor/friend J. Todd Billings. I was looking forward to seeing him Thursday in Dyer, Indiana at a conference. I thought he was probably confirming our lunch date. Instead, he informed me that he has been diagnosed with multiple myeloma blood cancer.

            Todd and I talked Saturday morning—me expressing my sympathies; him expressing his shock. The prognosis is yet unclear, but he is looking ahead to a long fight. Chemotherapy starts this week. He and his wife are shaken. Thankfully, their young children Neti (who was adopted from Ethiopia) and Nathaniel don’t know what is going on. They are, as a family, reeling as they consider the long journey ahead of hospitals and sickness.

            So many of you in this congregation empathize with this story, as you are going through it yourself or are close to someone who is. The questions pile on top of themselves. Shallow platitudes become insulting. It is pretty easy to go into dark places.

            In the midst of his shock and concern, Todd included this line from The Heidelberg Catechism, Q&A 1:

Q.  What is your only comfort in life and in death?

A.  That I am not my own, but belong—body and soul, in life and in death—to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ. He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood, and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil. He also watches over me in such a way that not a hair can fall from my head without the will of my Father in heaven: in fact, all things must work together for my salvation. Because I belong to him, Christ, by his Holy Spirit, assures me of eternal life and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him.

Todd and his wife believe this. Their kids are learning to believe it.

I’m usually at a loss for what to say in situations when it seems life hangs in the balance. When fear and death are heavy in the air. Q&A 1 is probably a pretty good place to start. All of us, if we are not in the midst of life-and-death issues right now, will be very soon. Do you believe the good news? Has your loved one heard this good news?

           Next Sunday I will be running the Chicago Marathon as a pacer for Nike. People will be following me in hopes of getting a Boston Marathon qualifying time. I certainly want to lead them there. Qualifying for Boston is not life-and-death (though you might think it is based on the way some folks approach it!). The controlled suffering of marathoning, however, serves as a metaphor for the larger, more serious life-and-death suffering that all people inevitably face. My followers are going to learn the Heidelberg Catechism over the course of those 26.2 miles. I pray that you will learn it, too.