"We look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come."

I started writing two months ago about the teachings of our faith that give me comfort as I face the end of my life. The first is the forgiveness of my sins and the resulting restored relationship with God. The second is the resurrection.

The resurrection of Jesus after his death is our model of what our own resurrections will be like. The authors of the gospels go to great lengths to show that the resurrected Jesus had a physical presence. He ate fish, started a fire, walked down a road, and offered his wrists and side to be touched. The resurrected body has physicality. God's experiment of joining body and spirit is not abandoned in the next life. It is perfected.

 I like that a lot. I have some pictures of myself before I became ill with ALS that I look at from time to time. In one I have just finished a kayaking trip in the Bahamas. For over a week, my friends and I kayaked from island to island, camped out under the stars, and enjoyed the beauty of God's creation. I am tanned and strong and confident in the picture. In another photograph I am out for a hike on the Appalachian Trail. It was good to be healthy, to eat good food, to hug my daughters, to kiss a woman, and stretch my legs on a mountain trail. I eagerly look forward to doing those things again.

N. T. Wright, an Anglican bishop, wrote about the afterlife in appealing terms in his book, Surprised by Hope. He emphasizes the new heaven and the new earth that we read about in Scripture. The Lord's Prayer which the Church has been praying for 20 centuries will finally be fulfilled. "Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven," will be a reality. The earth will be put right and we who are willing to submit ourselves to God will enjoy a new Eden. (I assume we will have an updated wardrobe.) I like this idea, too. The earth is a beautiful place with magnificent opportunities for happiness. A corollary to this idea is that every good deed we do here and now will make a positive difference there and then. Nothing good will be lost in the new creation.

In my opinion, and I could be wrong, the streets of gold and the gates of pearl we see in the book of Revelation are a metaphor. Heaven will be so wonderful that the most precious things on earth--gold and pearls--will be used to pave the streets and for hardware on doorways. The insipid picture of heaven that includes clouds and harps and white clothing looks like a crushing bore. I look forward to a robust heaven full of great tastes, aromas, beauty, music, and adventure. (Read C.S. Lewis' book The Great Divorce for more on this.) In addition to all these good things will be the even more wonderful presence of God.

There is disagreement among Christians about how all of this will play out. Depending upon the theory they accept, there are pre- millennialists, post- millennialists, and a- millennialists. One of my professors joked, "I am a PRO- millennialist. Whatever happens, I'm for it!"

Me, too.

(This article was first published in the November issue of the St. James Episcopal Church (Hendersonville, NC) newsletter.)

If I was asked to give an after-dinner speech

I am honored to be here with you this evening. Thank you for your invitation to speak and for the delicious meal. I hope that no one will take offense that I did not eat it. For the last two years I have gotten all my food in liquid form through a feeding tube into my stomach.

I have an illness called "ALS." It is also known as Lou Gehrig's disease after the great New York Yankees' first baseman whose career was cut short by the disease. ALS destroys the nerve cells that control voluntary muscles. As the nerves die, so do the muscles they control. The person with ALS loses the ability to walk, talk, eat, and eventually, to breathe. During my work as a hospice chaplain I held people's hands and prayed with them as they faced their deaths. I can no longer speak or hold a person's hand, and now I am the one facing death. The average ALS patient dies within two to five years of diagnosis for there is no cure.

I am not here tonight to talk about how terrible ALS is. I am here to talk about the good things that have come into my life and the lives of others because we have ALS. Jeff Lester was diagnosed with the disease eighteen years ago. When he was diagnosed, people told him to prepare his funeral and to put his affairs in order. He writes, "Something happened on the way to my funeral. The day of my diagnosis marks the turning point in my life. I began to understand the true beauty in life, what is important, and it marks the moment I began truly living!" Kevin Connell is the 51-year-old father of five children. He was diagnosed with ALS a year ago. He writes, "Today I choose to focus not on what I've lost, but on all that I've gained: a closer walk with Jesus, many new friends, appreciation for the simple things, and the outpouring of love and support from family and friends."

Tom Ohlson was a member of the United States diplomatic corps when he learned he had ALS. He writes, "Probably more than anything, ALS has taught me appreciation--of others, of our wonderful world, my friends and family, and even of myself. Most of all I now recognize, cherish, and appreciate the gift of life." A self-acknowledged workaholic, Rob Tison was forced to slow down by ALS and spend more time with his family. Rob writes, "ALS may take my children’s father from them, but will leave them as stronger, more caring, more independent children who take few things for granted and make the most of every day. I try to lead by example by staying positive and continuing to do as much as I can; making the best of each day I am given."

My time with ALS has taught me to treasure the present moment rather than wait for happiness in the future. My life is surprisingly good despite my illness. That amazes me. It is evidence to me that God is at work bringing good out of evil and joy out of despair.

Every person in this room will face hardship. We can use hardship to become better people. When a loved one dies or we get bad news from a doctor, when our children get in trouble or our marriage ends in divorce, we can look for the opportunity to grow. We may be put into the fire, but God can use that fire to refine us and make us stronger people. We will know that God is with us, redeeming our hardship, preparing us to help others undergoing similar hard times, and giving us hope for the future. God is with us and at the end of our lives we will realize that this is all that really matters.

(This article was originally published in the Asheville (NC) Citizen-Times newspaper on 6 November 2011.)