Life is Short and Precious

Can I tell you something?

I dread the time of my life when I have to start burying my friends. Don’t even get me started about the inevitable day where I have to face my life without my parents being physically around. But, I am not looking forward to the day where it’s a who’s still living “contest” amongst my friends.

And I know it’s a bit silly to worry about those things now. But, what can I say? I’m a worrier. I try not to be. I’m trying to take heed our sermon series that we just wrapped up called, “No Worries.” I get anxious a lot too. Over things worth getting anxious for and over more trivial things. Like, the days ahead where I’ll be looking at my kids growing up or hitting another milestone in my life and just wishing my parents were alive to see it. I know it’s not trivial. However, it’s not worth thinking about it now. Especially not worth getting worked up about it. But that’s just me. I don’t want it to be. But I’m a bit neurotic. I easily get nervous and anxious. Maybe that’s why I can relate to Woody Allen’s earlier movies, like Annie Hall.

Last night, I was watching the Clippers-Grizzlies game when I was scrolling through my Facebook feed when I saw that Adam Keefer, a friend from seminary, had suddenly passed away. At the age of 31. We were fairly close in seminary. We took a lot of classes together, particularly youth ministry classes. I would frequently swing by his dorm room and hang out with him and his roommate, Andrew. He was a great guy and fun to be around. His hair color would constantly change. We’d sit in class and he’d just say, “I’m done with green. I think I’m gonna color my hair blue when class is done.”

We once had a sub for Church History. And, my oh my, the professor had a hard time keeping our attention. Well, at least mine and Adam’s, who was sitting next to me. I gave me him a gasp of dread and desperation combined with an exaggerated eye roll. And we were only 10 minutes into, what I recall, a 3 hour class. What the heck were we gonna do for the next 2 hours and 50 minutes? I knew that we wouldn’t be able to endure the entire class. So he whispers, “I have Pirates of the Caribbean with me.”

He didn’t need to repeat himself. I immediately gestured for him to hand it over. Why it was in his bag, I didn’t need to ask. Nor did I care. Johnny Depp was going to serve as some sort of savior for the next 2 hours. So we spent the first half of class watching Pirates of the Caribbean (volume off, and subtitles on, of course) on my laptop and the rest of the class scrolling through stupid Internet stuff. Later in the semester, I’d be stuck in another boring class (Western Sacred Music) and decided to pop in Spider-Man 2 in my laptop. After the class, I got an email from the professor asking, “If you can explain what Spider-Man 2 has to do with Sacred Music, you won’t get into that much trouble.” I’m pretty sure it was the professor’s daughter who ratted me out. It was “take your child to work day” for her kid and the daughter went around where I was sitting to get outside the room to use the restroom or something. Either way, I know it was the daughter that snitched on me. My fault for not being more careful. Anyway, next semester in all the syllabi for our courses, there was a new rule to be found. “Computers are to be used only for note taking. Surfing the web, watching movies, or any other activities not related to the course is prohibited.” Or something like that. Adam dubbed it as the “Joseph Yoo” rule.

I talked to him once or twice after we graduated from Wesley. I heard that his brother had a pretty bad accident. And I heard that his family was on an episode of a TV show that helps with home renovations.

If I can just remain a bit self-centered a little bit longer… It’s an odd, odd feeling knowing that Adam is gone. I don’t think it hasn’t quite set in. And, I know it’s weird that I just said “odd” and not “sad” but sadness and grief over Adam’s passing is a given. I just can’t believe it. I mean, I always figured that down the road, I’d meet up with my seminary colleagues here and there, after all, we Methodists are connectional. At least theoretically. I got to hang out with Adam’s roommate at Kansas this past October. Got to see another colleague in Dallas before he moved out to Seattle. I got to see some more colleagues through the Lewis Fellows program. I’d figure, one day, I’ll have a reason to be in Pennsylvania and could call up Adam to hang out for a cup of coffee. But, that’ll just have to wait until I get to see if I make it into Heaven. (Not a given, for me…)

I… I just don’t know what to say.

Life is far too short. And life is too far precious. But life is far too damn easy to take for granted.

My heart and prayers go out to the Keefers.

Adam was a great guy. Passionate for life, Christ and youth ministry. Hilariously hilarious and, don’t be fooled, he was just as much of a troublemaker as I was in seminary, except he was smarter and less obvious. His smile was always bright as his hair color of the week.

The world lost a great guy.

Rest in peace, friend.

 

A Thought of Why the Cross is Foolish

An early electric chair. Richeson was executed...

Image via Wikipedia

Many Christians proudly display the cross in one form or another.
Some have it permanently inked on their bodies.
Some wear it on their clothing.
Some have bumper stickers on their cars.
Some have accessories, like necklaces, rings, bracelets, etc.

I’m sure if I wasn’t lazy, I could research to find the answer to this next question I’m about to ask.
But, I wonder if the early Christians, under the Roman Empire, wore the cross as proudly as we did today.
I kind of doubt it.
A while back, I wrote a post about how clean, neat and polished many of the crosses that we own are.

To many, the cross is something powerful; a symbol of love, hope, redemption, resurrection, etc.
But, to the early Christians, I like to think that the cross was still something that people did not want to see, especially proudly displayed by others.
It was another symbol of their oppression and of torture.

Maybe some of us forget that the cross was a instrument of persecution and death.
The cross was used to instill fear in the hearts of people.
The cross was a reminder to the people, if you rebel this is your fate.

If Jesus came to the United States within this decade or so, think about what the people would proudly display 2000 years from now.
They’d have tattoos of the electric chair.
Or they’d have necklaces, bracelets, earrings, rings with a needle from the lethal injection Jesus would’ve received for his death penalty.
(…. or shirts that proudly display the act of, or instruments involved in, water boarding…)

If someone proudly displayed the electric chair or tools used for lethal injections (or water boarding) today, the normal ones of our society would be a bit shocked and horrified.
“Why would they promote such a violent image?”
“What is wrong with that person?”
“Has the person no morals?”

But it is only through the power and grace of God that an instrument that was used solely for death, punishment and torture now stands for life, a new beginning, redemption, reconciliation and… hope.

I don’t really think about what the cross actually symbolized and meant for the people of Jesus’ time. Only because in my office and home, I have nice, polished, neat crosses that can’t help but remind me of hope. I think I need to go find me a rugged cross..

But that instrument that once stood for death, now stands for life.
Oh, how He loves us!