The hospital called me about 7.30 in the morning to tell me that Dave had died. I went to the hospital a little later to collect his belongings and to start the various processes which then must happen. And, for the last time, I saw Dave – Dave’s body – lying in the same bed where we had visited him over the preceding month or so.
As I came away, the main thought in my mind was about Dave’s eyes.
We all knew Dave for longer or shorter periods of time. And I think we all knew, especially in recent years, that you could read a lot of what was going on for Dave in his eyes. Sometimes they were angry, sometimes searching for affirmation, sometimes troubled.
When I saw Dave that final time, his eyes were open and his face was relaxed and it seemed to me that his vision was (and is), at last, clear.
The Apostle Paul writes, in 1 Corinthians 13, that:
…now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.
Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
What we see of God – of Jesus – right now in the midst of life is, Paul says, like glimpses caught in a mirror. Maybe it’s helpful to think of the partial view of the road we get from wing mirrors in a car, rather than the full view of ourselves in a well-lit bathroom mirror.
It’s an enigma, a riddle, Paul says – we can see there’s something there, and we can begin to understand something of who God is, and then the image shifts, or we’re distracted and blink, and we have to start the puzzle over again.
For Dave, often the puzzle was overwhelming – how could he be sure of God’s love for him when he saw himself as sinful? How could he be sure of God’s forgiveness for him? How could he be sure that he was living out his faith as God was calling him to?
Of course we can know a great deal about God – from God’s creation, in the person of Jesus shown to us in the Bible, and from the living witness of the Holy Spirit. But the Apostle Paul and our friend Dave remind us that we don’t know it all, and thinking of the things of God can be unsettling and puzzling at times – and perhaps that’s how it should be for us.
Often it would be frustrating that Dave would come back to the same troubles and questions time and again, but perhaps sometimes we need to examine our certainties, and examine the implications of what we believe. I’ve realised that sometimes Dave took these things a lot more seriously that I do.
Not that there aren’t any certainties – that riddle, that enigma, is now, Paul says, but there is hope – and faith and love! This verse is part of Paul’s famous reflection on love in 1 Corinthians 13 where he contrasts our knowing in part – only an imperfect reflection in a mirror – with the completeness of the love of God, which never fails, and will never fail even when prophecies and tongues and knowledge have passed away.
Paul’s description of God’s love is also a call for us to reflect that love to one another, also in an inevitably imperfect way: ‘Love one another, as I have loved you’, as Jesus challenges us. Dave expressed God’s love in his generous giving to a range of charities that were close to his heart; in his desire to give what he could whenever he was aware of someone in need; and in his concern for his friends – he would ask after members of my family and would pray when someone needed it.
Since his mother died over 20 years ago, Dave had no living birth relatives as far as we know, and church became his family – church: the community of people drawn together by God as one place to demonstrate God’s love, and hopefully a little of what the Kingdom of God might look like. Of course, individuals and congregations don’t always get it right, but I love Jane’s favourite description of what church should be like: the best church is an awkward, diverse and grace-filled community. (Anne Atkins – TftD)
Thank God we’re not all the same! That diversity brings awkwardness and opportunities to display grace. Dave was part of our church family – in Ichthus Downham, in Catford Community Church, and latterly here at the Good Shepherd – sometimes he, like all of us, called out grace in others, and there were times when it was less awkward not to engage with him, but that’s not what the family of God, the Kingdom of God does. We must continually let everyone know that they are welcome in the family of God, and that there is nothing that cannot be dealt with by the cross and forgiveness of Jesus.
Paul finishes his passage on love by saying that ‘Then’, in place of the distorted glimpses and glances, ‘we shall see face to face’ – we will see God and understand God’s love for us. The enigma will be gone. Either the riddle will be solved, or we’ll see that answering it doesn’t matter as much as we thought it did. The things we know in part now, we will then know fully – even as we are already fully known, by God.
Part of Dave’s worry was that God knew everything about him, leading him to question whether God could truly love him. And I suspect that’s true of most of us, at some time or another, although perhaps we’re better at keeping it under wraps.
I believe that Dave has now come face to face with God, and has discovered what it truly means to be fully known and fully loved by God. And that has taken the anger, the worry, the fear from his mind, his heart, and – yes – his eyes.
So, we thank God for Dave: for his fierce desire to be in the ambit of God’s love; for his appreciation of his family connection with the people of God; and for his desire to hold on to God when everything else seemed to be falling around him. May we, with Dave, gaze on our Father in heaven and find rest for our bodies, our souls, and our eyes. Amen