John H Armstrong

A Life Well Lived: On the Death of Erwin Lutzer's Father

Since I was a young pastor in my early twenties Erwin Lutzer and I have shared a deep friendship. This has led to many wonderful times of conversation, ministry and prayer. Erwin's dad and mom are both over 100 years of age. This in itself is a remarkable fact but then his dad and mom are two rather amazing people. Erwin's dad finally passed away this week at the ripe old age of 106! Since I have heard so much about Erwin's dad for most of my adult life I thought it only right to share Erwin's account of his dad and his passing with all my readers. (If course, I have Erwin's permission to share this story with you. I also ask you to pray for him in light of this loss.)

Here is Erwin's brief account of his dad's amazing life and his death this week.

My father, age 106, laid his burdens down and entered the presence of our Lord this Wednesday morning at 5:00 AM. Dad did not have an easy life. He was born in 1902 to a German family living in the Ukraine, and during World War I, (1914) Russia insisted that all of the Germans within its boarders had to become refugees (lest they side with Germany in the war). My father's family was forced to make the difficult trek to Afghanistan, and there his mother (my grandmother) died at the age of 46 and was buried in a mass grave in Kabul. My father, age 12, did not have a chance to say goodbye to his mother and thought he'd never stop crying. 

When the war was over in 1918, Dad and his father and two brothers, were able to return to their farm and several years later he was able to immigrate to Canada. There in a church, he met my mother who had just been born again through the preaching of an evangelist. Dad walked her home, asked her to marry him, and within three weeks they were married. That was 77 years ago.

I will spare you all the hardship my father endured both in Europe and also the challenge of raising five children on a small farm. To this day, we as children don't understand how he did it all: for example, having to shovel countless loads of grain years before grain augers were invented. Of course we also had cows, chickens, and pigs, all of which needed care. Added to this, he had panic attacks, and couldn't work for days at a time. We as children said "goodbye" to him a number of times, because he thought he was dying. My mother shouldered these burdens and had to cope with all of these uncertainties. We never dreamed we would see Dad live a long life.

We were wrong.

Dad had come to know Christ as Savior in the Ukraine and throughout his long life he loved God, read the Bible consistently and cared deeply only about that which was most important. "I read the whole book of Ephesians today" he told me when we visited him in Canada when he was about 101.

When he was a hundred, I knelt next to him and asked him to give me a blessing as the patriarchs did in Old Testament times. He held my head in both of his hands and prayed a prayer that "would make heaven shake" as I put it. 

When we visited my parents this past May, Dad, now in a wheelchair, spoke very little. He recognized us, but only occasionally. So while we were sitting and talking with my mother, he appeared to be sleeping and was quiet the whole time. Then to our surprise, he said in a complete German sentence, "We have been speaking about the present…now it is time for us to speak about eternity and the Glory of God!"

Well, Dad, now you can speak of eternity and the glory of God in a way that you have never done before. Thanks for all the hard work…the care you gave to me and my siblings. Thanks for the hundreds of hours of prayers offered up on behalf of all of us. I can only hope those prayers will be answered.

Now my dear mother, who enjoyed her 100th birthday party three weeks ago, is a widow, anxiously awaiting her own entry into glory. She often prayed Dad would die before she did so that she would know he was well taken care of. God answered that prayer.

Rebecca and I are planning to fly to Canada Sunday afternoon for the funeral which will be on Monday.  We don't know yet when we will return, but I'm sure I'll miss the Christmas Eve service. We accept all of this in God's timing. All the details are pending.

Thanks for your love and prayers

Pastor Lutzer
 

On Living and Dying Well

I have told many friends, over many years, that nothing sobers and strengthens my soul like leading a funeral service. I remember many funny, unusual and delightful moments about scores of weddings I have conducted but I remember almost every funeral in a much more powerful way. I have preached a funeral service for friends of all sorts and for both my parents. I always know, as I stand by a grave, "Someday they will bring your body to such a place. Are you ready?" Nothing moves the mind and heart so powerfully.

I have conducted several funerals this summer. A recent service was for a dear friend whose husband I wrote an entire article about four and a half years ago. This appeared in one of my weekly articles. Her husband's legacy marked my life profoundly. He was a mentor figure who helped me time and time again. He taught me how to get involved in the lives of men and thus how to make a one-on-one difference in doing so. His name was John Shoop.

On July 16 I led the funeral for his widow, Ardella Shoop. The service consisted of about 15 people, almost all family. This allowed me to say and do some things reserved for such private moments. And it also allowed me to reflect upon the life of this godly woman who lived and died so very well.

When I came to Wheaton as a pastor in 1976 John and Ardella Shoop were really the reason I took the call from my church. I did not want to come really. I saw nothing but problems on the horizon and time proved that my judgment would be correct. I took John and Ardella aside during the candidate process and said, "I will take this call if you will stand by me." John was, at that time, the executive director of the Christian Business Men's Committee (CBMC), based in Illinois. He was also the best elder in the leadership of the church. Within a year CBMC would move their national office to Chattanooga and I would thus lose my best elder and dearest friend in the church. This loss was huge. But John and Ardella stuck by me and prayed for me for many decades. They also refused to listen to my critics without also listening to my side of a story and they offered wise and thoughtful counsel to me without simply telling me: "You are OK."

I reflected on their lives this week at Ardella's grave site and remembered that they had met both my parents before my dad died and the Shoops moved on to Tennessee. Eventually John would leave the national position of CBMC. He much preferred to disciple men, not run a national organization! He moved to the Dallas area and took up a city ministry for CBMC once again. When he retired, so to speak, he just kept doing the same things he had always done. He met men all the time. He asked them great questions about their walk with God. He insisted they stay in the Word and pray regularly. He would ask you, point blank, if you were doing these things and get very specific so you were not too comfortable if things were not right.

John could not have done all that he did without a godly, supportive and very spiritually mature wife. Ardella and John both lost they mates when they were around forty years of age, give or take. They were in the same congregation in Elgin, Illinois, and then later were married. This is a case where a second marriage, following two tragedies, produced great blessing for so many people. When I met them in 1976 they were beginning to "hit their stride" and their maturity and ministry were deep at that point.

Ardella devoted her life to John but more than this she devoted it to Christ. She had many gifts in her own right and used them widely. She was not only a loving mother to children from two marriages but she had her own ministry as a counselor, confidant, mentor and "mom" to students and young adults. Her gifts of mercy, comfort, discernment and hospitality stand out to me. Her home was always warm, charming and inviting. I could relax there and share my heart.

At the funeral, which we held at the grave site, I used Ardella's own Bible. Her daughter Marsha, who cared for her over the last four-plus years in New York, loaned it to me. I read inscriptions and notes from her worn out Bible that revealed where she got her depth and power. It was deeply moving for me to hold and use her own Bible. Several from her family shared stories and we concluded with the Lord's Prayer. It was a blessed season of praise, and a commitment to the earth of her remains, in the sure hope of the resurrection to come.

I learn again and again, at such times as these, one simple lesson: If you want to really be prepared for the end of life then live each day well and put your life in his hands and your heart into his Word day-by-day. There is no other way to live well and finish well.

A Christian Service of Worship and Thanksgiving

Here is the memorial service that we have planned for this Sunday in Huntsville. I would ask you to pray for me as I preach twice in the morning at Southwood Presbyterian Church, from 1 Thessalonians 5:18 on giving thanks in all circumstances, and then do my mom's funeral service at 2 p.m. using Hebrews 12:28-29 as my text. Amazingly, the preaching was planned several weeks ago. God's timing was perfect and my prayer is that many will see and hear the love of Christ powerfully displayed. Your intercession would be a means of grace to me personally.

A Service of Christian Worship and Remembrance of Marie Freeman Armstrong

November 21, 1915 €“--- November 19, 2007

Sunday, November 25, 2007 @ Southwood Presbyterian Church, Huntsville, Alabama


Prelude

Invocation                                                   Dr. Michael Honeycutt

Hymn                                €œ"It Is Well with My Soul"€

When peace like a river attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
"€œIt is well with my soul."€

Though Satan should buffet, tho'€™ trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed his own blood for my soul.

My sin,€” O, the glorious thought,
My sin, €”not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

And, Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll,
The trump shall resound and the Lord shall descend,
Even so; €”it is well with my soul.

Refrain

It is well (it is well), with my soul (with my soul),
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Solo        "Give Me Jesus"                            Mrs. Angie Reed

A Pastoral Remembrance                             Dr. Michael Honeycutt

Old Testament Reading    Psalm 23              Dr. Michael Honeycutt

Words of Remembrance                                 

Dr. Greg Armstrong, Mr. Tom Tollett and Mrs. Della Park
                                                                   
New Testament Reading    Hebrews 11:1-16 Dr. Michael Honeycutt

Solo        "Amazing Grace"€                           Mrs. Angie Reed


Remembering the Life of Marie Armstrong    Dr. John H. Armstrong
and the Kingdom that Cannot Be Shaken

Hymn                                 "My Jesus I Love Thee"€

My Jesus, I love Thee, I know Thou art mine;
For Thee all the follies of sin I resign;
My gracious Redeemer, My Savior art Thou;
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus ‘tis now.

I love Thee, because Thou hast first loved me,
And purchased my pardon on Calvary'€™s tree;
I love Thee for wearing the thorns on Thy brow;
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus '€˜tis now.

I'€™ll love Thee in life, I will love Thee in death,
And praise Thee as long as Thou lendest me breath;
And say when the death dew lies cold on my brow;
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus 'tis now.

In mansions of glory and endless delight,
I'€™ll ever adore Thee in heaven so bright;
I'€™ll sing with the glittering crown on my brow;
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus '€˜tis now.

Concluding Words and Benediction                 Dr. Michael Honeycutt


Internment of the earthly body of Marie Armstrong will follow the memorial service at Memory Gardens, located at 6810 University Drive, Huntsville. Everyone is invited to this brief service of committal.

A meal for family and out-of-town guests will be held at Southwood Presbyterian Church at 5:00 p.m., following the graveside service.

Vera Marie (Freeman) Amstrong, RIP

I wrote an obituary for my mother to run in the Friday newspaper in Huntsville, Alabama. Here is the simple story of her long life. At $1.00 per word you have to be brief, unless you are wealthy and vain, so this is the best I could do in a short few sentences totals less than 300 words.

Vera Marie Freeman Armstrong
November 21, 1915---November 19, 2007

After a long, fulfilling and healthy life Vera Marie Freeman Armstrong, 91, of Huntsville, went to be with her beloved Lord on Monday, November 19. She was born in Stuttgart, Arkansas, on November 21, 1915, the youngest of seven children.

Marie was an incredibly social person with an amazing passion for life and the gospel of Jesus Christ. She loved good meal times with friends, reading Christian literature, studying the Holy Scriptures intensely and earnest praying. She was a widely respected Bible teacher for well over 60 years and took great joy in intercessory prayer for the hundreds of friends she taught, as well as for all of her family members. She was extremely generous person to everyone in need and cared deeply for the oppressed. She actively served in professional dental organizations and the Gideons International, both with her late husband of fifty years, Dr. Thomas H. Armstrong (1912-1986).

She is survived by her two sons, Dr. Thomas W. Armstrong (Nora Anne), of Huntsville, and Dr. John H. Armstrong (Anita), of Carol Stream, Illinois. She was cherished as “Mamame” to her five grandchildren and five great-grandchildren.

A Christian service of worship and thanksgiving will be held this Sunday at 2 p.m. at Southwood Presbyterian Church in Huntsville. Burial will follow in Huntsville Memorial Gardens. Visitation with the family will occur between 4 and 6 p.m. on Saturday at Laughlin Funeral Home.

In lieu of flowers, the family requests that memorials be sent to ACT 3, P. O. Box 88216, Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. ACT 3 (www.act3online.com) is a mission of renewal for all Christian Churches begun in 1991 by Marie’s son, John. She actively supported this work with her fervent prayers and sacrificial gifts.

For information call (256) 534-2471. An online registry is also available at: www.laughlinservice.com

Absent from the Body, Present with the Lord

I will try to write a longer reflection tomorrow when I am back in Chicago but I wanted friends to know that my dear mother passed into the presence of her Lord this day at 12:05 p.m. I was there, saw her take her last breath, and rejoiced in her seeing the King of Glory. She took two deep breaths, moved her eyes slightly, and was gone, in an instant really. It was one of the most profound experiences I have ever had. I had been praying over her the hour before she died and thus was praying prayers of preparation for body and soul as she embarked upon her final journey. I believe she was ready in every possible way to go. I am at peace, rejoice in God's grace, thank so many of you for praying and look forward to preaching the gospel at her funeral this weekend.

God willing I will preach from 1 Thessalonians 5:18 on Sunday morning in two services at Southwood Presbyterian Church in Huntsville, Alabama. Then at 2 p.m. I will preach at mom's funeral service and help lead her burial service. My good friend, Dr. Michael Honeycutt, pastor of Southwood, will lead the service and assist me. I could not do this without him. Mike has become a truly dear friend to me and got to know and love my mom the last six years.

The great comfort tonight is that the Word of God says in no uncertain terms: "Absent from the body, present with the Lord." Marie Armstrong is gazing on the face of the one she loved her entire life. She is at peace. I miss her but can let her go to him with deep joy.

Death and Dying

Nothing, and I mean nothing, will focus your mind and heart on the life to come quite like sitting for hours with your loved one as they are slowly departing this life and entering the next. This is where I've been the past two days as you know. I have formed several thoughts this evening that might serve as encouragement to readers. These are simple reflections on my last two days.

1. "People are destined to die once and after that to face the judgment" (Hebrews 9:27). There are no exceptions, period. Because of sin we all die. We all seem so unwilling to face this one settled reality until we are forced to deal with it. I do not think we should live humorless, morbid lives, but rather lives of joy and appreciation of the creation. But we should always live in the face of death, a truly healthy way to live to the fullest. Indeed it is the only truly honest and human way to live.

2. Losing a loved one who knows Christ is difficult for sure but when our hope is rooted in the promises of God and the long life of a person who lived for the glory of God the substantial hope of the true Christian is firm. Death is never easy, never. But watching a loved one leave earth is truly softened by the reality of this fact: "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints."

3. Families tend to draw closer to one another at such times, or they are stressed in ways that break them apart. In my case these days are drawing us closer to God and to one another.

4. Reading Scripture, singing hymns of faith, and touching and signing my mother with the mark of the cross have all been a rich blessing. How do people sit for hours with no hope and no cross and watch someone die whom they love so deeply?

5. Prayer and the love of fellow believers is also a rich blessing at such times. Thanks to hundreds of you who are praying and thanks for some very close friends who have called me on my cell phone to see how I am doing. No one has stepped over the line in the least in showing compassion and respect and all who have communicated their love have encouraged me.

6. Having this time to think and talk allows us to plan for a funeral with much care. Pray for our family as we want this to be a time of grief mixed with incredible hope and joy. I will preach the gospel, that much I know. Plans have been made with the understanding that "a person plans his way but the Lord directs their steps."

7. Dying with dignity is more than a slogan for me. We are not rushing mom to the hospital to insert tubes to feed her. We have chosen to allow her to receive comfort and care without extreme life-saving measues.

8. Hospice care workers are a God-send. Use them when the time comes and allow them to help you when you need them most. Most states even provide for this service if you ask for it.

9. I sense that I am extremely near God, and the angels, when I am in my mom's room. Hebrews says that angels are "ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation" (1:14). The only way I can leave mom's room and come back to rest tonight is that I leave her with prayer, the Scriptures, the mark of the cross and the confidence that she really is NOT alone.

10. As I look at my mom, who is unable to talk but who seems to hear me, I am telling her of all the things I remember about her life that cause me to give thanks. What a powerful thing this is. I do not know how much she hears or understands, and frankly no one does for sure, but I know I am telling her truths that bless her and help me. I have also told her tonight that it is OK for her to go when the Lord comes for her because we are pleased to release her from us knowing that someday we shall join her in the life to come.

Again, thanks for your prayers, whether you know me personally or not. Your intercession is a means of grace and God uses it. How he does I do not understand but that he does I am quite certain of. 

Death: Our Enemy

I have been shaken over the weekend by two deaths. One was closer to me personally. A man, who showed very few signs of being that close to taking his own life, decided last Wednesday night that it was time to end it. He was loved by those who really knew him. He was also a humble servant who was known in his small community as a deeply caring individual. My personal dealings with him, here and there over the course of nearly forty years, were always pleasant. He was kind, gentle and always loved children. He had reached a point of deep financial stress and thus came to believe that he had nothing else to live for in the coming years. Simply put, he lost all hope. He said that he did not fear death. So life had no more appeal and death was preferable. When the news came on Friday morning I was shocked. Various people whom I deeply love are now touched profoundly by this tragedy. My words to them are very few. My thoughts are filled with compassion, thus I pray a lot. Many in my own family are directly touched by this tragedy and they will spend the rest of their lives sorting out, hopefully in ways that work for good, what happened to them all last week. I am not sure I have any answers at all, just more questions. Life is a mystery to me. Death is still an enemy and ending one's own life is inexplicably stressful to all who are touched by the ordeal. Please pray for me as I seek to listen and give any counsel that is appropriate. I expect that the only counsel I will have is likely to be that which comes from being a good listener.

To add to this sense of death's finality, and to the grim reality of suicide itself, I witnessed the aftermath of a public suicide on Friday morning in a most shocking way. I was not there when the man died but I must have been there within only minutes of his death. As a friend and I rode the commuter train into Chicago Friday morning we noticed that our train slowed for a commotion just past Oak Park. As the train slowed and stopped we then saw the grim reason---a young man had hung himself from the train overpass which was about thirty feet above our train and right beside the window where I was seated. This scene has still not left my mind this morning. I thought about it for two straight nights and tossed and turned in my bed. My questions were numerous. Who was this man? Why did he come to this place? And what directly led to his tying this large rope around his neck and jumping to his very public death? He had the earbuds of an iPod on and wore a T-shirt that said "Staff."  He was very young. I wondered, "Who would be shocked to get this news? How would they cope? What family was about to get this terrible news? What was the relationship of this man's soul to God?"

Suicide has been rising in America for several decades. Hopelessness clearly prevails in the hearts of many. Most who take their own lives do so because they have no more hope. Why do people who profess to have hope not share their hope more effectively with those who so desperately need it? Questions, the endless questions. I still have them. I know for sure, I want to listen to people more attentively and offer words of hope more faithfully.

I am also reminded that death is still, in the end, a grim and terrible reality. No one escapes it. Paul says it is our "enemy." So it is. It is our last enemy. We cannot defeat it but one person did destroy it and through trusting him we can go through our own death to victory, the victory that he won by defeating death. What a mystery. What a gospel. What a hope! I confess today, with renewed hope: "Christ died. Christ rose. Christ is coming again."

The Death of a Great Christian Scholar

Bruce M. Metzger was not only a world-class New Testament scholar but a devoted and serious Christian who truly believed that the New Testament was a faithful record of historical events. He died last week at 93 years of age in Princeton, New Jersey, where he had lived for many years after his retirement from teaching at Princeton. Metzger oversaw the translation of the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible, a text used primarily by mainline churches. (The NRSV is, generally speaking, an acceptable and readable translation, which I have used with great profit in many contexts.) Metzger was a brilliant linguist and perhaps the foremost authority in the world on translating the New Testament. His name was simply the gold standard among scholars, liberal or conservative. He was respected for his work because he did it well and always to the glory of God.

His goal, whether or not you agreed with his conclusions in all cases, was an accessible, accurate and modern reading of the Bible. Among his guiding principles was the much-controversial gender-neutral language used in the NRSV as well as the more evangelical projects such the NLT and TNIV. He did not promote gender-neutral language with reference to God but to males and females when the Greek text allowed it and it was a proper translation for a modern reader. He also promoted various syntactical shifts in order to avoid common confusions in reading the English Bible. His precision and commitment to accuracy show in all his work.

Who can forget the magnificent interview that Lee Strobel conducted with Bruce Metzger that appeared in Strobel’s first popular book on the evidence for a historically accurate biblical record? (Strobel, trained as a newspaper reporter, knows how to conduct a first-rate interview, which is a great strength in his several apologetically aimed books.) This interview, which was the best in the book for me personally, was scintillating in way that is rarely accomplished by talking to a world-class biblical scholar. Metzger demonstrated genuine scholarship with deep humility.

Bruce Metzger not only shaped New Testament translation for decades but he gave his life to the faith that he loved through his academic discipline. I, for one at least, thank God for the great work of this wonderfully devout man who served the church so well by using scholarship in service of faith. Millions of people profited from his life of devotional scholarship.

Life is Unpredictable

My local newspaper includes a "Year in Review" section in the December 31 edition that is titled "In Memoriam." Pictured, and listed, are a number of nationally prominent persons who died in 2006. Also listed are a number of local people as well, several of whom were friends of mine. It seems that this kind of looking back on the loss of loved ones, as well as prominent people, is something we do every year at this time. For some years now, when I have read a story like this one, I have always done one thing: I have asked God to grant me the grace to live for his glory in 2007 with the full realization that this might be my last year. Of course, some year, at some point in time, will actually be my last year. I think about this a great deal and do not consider it morose in any true sense of the term.

This particular article began with this sentence: "Life is unpredictable." I pondered that statement most of the day. There is an obvious truism here for sure. Life is very unpredictable. We can be riding high one minute and taken down the next. But when it comes to death itself, to you dying, and to me dying, life is entirely predictable. Scripture puts this very bluntly: "People are destined to die once and after that to face judgment" (Hebrews 9:27).

I have always been amazed at how people will do almost anything they can to avoid the subject of their own death. We sometimes hear it said that there are two things you can't avoid---death and taxes. But I have known people who actually avoided taxes and got away with it. I know no one, however, who escaped death, or will escape it in the end, unless they are alive at the end of this present age when Jesus returns. It would be a genuinely healthy thing if we all entered this New Year knowing that death itself is certain for all of us. We are not sure what year, or day, death will come for us but it will surely come. We had best prepare now since preparing later may well be too late.

On Death & Dying

Death defines us and reveals what we really live for day-to-day. Most people think very little about their death unless they are forced to face it very directly. This was brought home to me by two front page stories in our suburban Daily Herald newspaper on Tuesday, August 15.

The first story that caught my attention was about Carol Bugh, the wife of Rob Bugh, the senior pastor of Wheaton Bible Church. Rob has been a friend from almost the day he arrived in Wheaton. We have shared a number of meals and I preached for him several years ago at Wheaton Bible Church. Not too long after the Rob arrived in Wheaton my wife and I shared a dinner with a group of pastor friends and their wives and thus we also met Carol that evening. We have followed very prayerfully her struggle, over the last ten months, with a rare melanoma. On Friday, August 11, Carol passed away. The story of her struggle and her faith in Christ is well told in the Daily Herald front-page story.

Here is how Pastor Bugh described his wife’s struggle with cancer and death: “Cancer is horrible. We hate it. My wife had a horrible experience, and she died a brutal death. On the other hand, we believe God is sovereign. He doesn’t delight in this. God permits what he hates in order to accomplish what he loves. It’s part of his plan.” In a conversation the day before she died Rob related to the reporter that Carol had expressed a deep disappointment about leaving her family behind. Rob notes that he assured her “We’re going to be OK. Life on the other side, in the presence of Jesus, was going to be incredible.”

In the same edition of the Daily Herald there is another front page story about a man named Ralph Russo, age 55. Mr. Russo has ALS, or Lou Gehrig’s disease. His slow digression towards death is movingly told by a staff writer. It is the kind of heart-breaking story that will move anyone who reads it. Russo takes an approach to his trials that I would call a happy Stoical response to his tragedy. Here is how he puts it: “All my life, certainly all my career, I helped people manage their crises. It’s the same thing, except this time, it’s my crisis and I’ll deal with it the way I have every other time. Take it one day at a time. Make the most of it. End of story.” Russo adds, “I’m not trying to be anyone’s hero, but I do want to set a good example for people around me not to ever give up.” And later this admirable and courageous man states that though he does get frustrated he ". . . never gets angry. Honest to God, I never say, ‘Why me?’ Not once.”

When Russo reflected upon his own impending death he revealed a side of his noble struggle that reveals the huge difference between Carol and Rob Bugh's faith and Ralph Russo’s own approach to dying. Whereas the Bughs spoke of incredible joys in the presence of Jesus Russo simply said, “I’m not afraid to die. We’re all going to die. I look at it as closing my eyes and going to sleep.”

For me these two approaches reveal the distinct difference between a Christian facing death and a happy and wonderful Stoic like Russo. The Bugh's experienced disappointment and doubt, as real Christians will. But Carol Bugh had a hope that pointed her forward to something beyond the grave that was far better than this life. Russo looks at this life as all there is so he aims to live it well and then go to sleep and that’s the end of it all. Sometimes Christians speak about the horrible death that awaits non-Christians. I think many non-Christians in America are noble Stoics and can live and die in a pretty good way, showing both courage and a certain admirable character quality. But the sad fact is that one minute after each of us dies we will all know that there is more to death than “closing your eyes and going to sleep.” This is a noble way to cope with our demise but it has no hope for the world to come.

We must work harder than ever at showing moderns why this kind of faith, about both life and death, will neither fill life to the full nor prepare us for what is to follow this life. I want to live and die the way Carol Bugh did, looking to Jesus as my only hope in life and in death.