Reflections at Thirty-three Thousand Feet

The clouds below flashed past as the plane reached its cruising altitude. The trip was a quick one but not unexpected. Several weeks ago, we flew west to Spokane, WA and drove three hours east to Yaak, Montana There my friend had lived for the past twenty years. Vietnam’s Agent Orange cancer had taken another vet, and my friend was now at home with his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. The departure had been anticipated for the last eight years, but still the end seemed sudden. His body could no longer endure the ravages of the disease. I officiated his funeral as I had promised I would. Now on the long trip back East on Monday after just five short days with his family and friends I did some reflecting at 33,000 feet.

     My traveling partners and I reminisced about our friend. We both had lots of adventures with him and his wife both in Pennsylvania and Montana. On the long journey to and from Montana we had many stories to tell of a life well lived and one fully invested in what God had called him to be and do. He lived in two Paradises in a way. One embedded in the remote Rocky mountains that he loved, and one planted in the Amish country of Lancaster County that he also loved. In his eastern Paradise he was a man who loved and raised his family.  In that Paradise he was also a successful businessman who was always involved in worldwide travel, intense negotiations, and plenty of jetlag. In his western “Paradise,” Yaak, he was a man fully devoted to his family, but also connecting with a new family in that small rural community as well as a church he wanted to see flourish. He settled into that western “Paradise” built his home and was involved with folks in the community in building a parsonage and church. But most of all he built relationships with the people of Yaak that many might describe as rugged, independent individualists. He entered that community as if he would never leave. And He didn’t.

     He believed that a church should be firmly established in this community, and he also believed that the Lord put him there to see it happen. He fell in love with all kinds of people, the down and outers and the up and outers, that called Yaak their home. He hunted with them, was part of the emergency services in the community, and established HAM operations in that communication sparce area. He invested untold hours of leadership, labor, and love in the local church that was moving from a Sunday gathering of people in a community building owned by the Forest Service into a fellowship that wanted to serve people in the community and thus glorify Christ. What he was really all about was relationships with people – people he loved and people who loved and related to this “easterner.”

     On the day of the funeral, it was cloudy, and rain was forecasted. People began to gather and soon the church was full to overflowing. Windows were opened so the people outside could hear what was being said in the service. Even when it started to rain, many of his neighbors and community members remained outside listening to the testimony of a life well lived. Many in the service shared how this man had ministered in their community and made a difference. He did exactly what God had designed him to be. He was salt and light (Cp. Matthew 5:13-16). When someone is like that, lives are impacted, and people take notice. People know when someone loves them enough to serve them. There were even a few tears seen in eyes that day.

     Now flying at 33,000 ft. over the great span of the United States, I wondered how many people below had a passion like my friend. Do they care for people more than programs? Do they focus upon the prestige of a work – or on the positive impact the service can have on people’s lives? Do they want to see the needs in their community met? Do they highlight people’s differences or are they concerned about them as individuals? Do they have the attitude the Apostle Paul wrote about, “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or empty pride, but in humility consider others more important than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others” (Philippians 2:3-4). The nation would be vastly different if my friend’s attitude was multiplied in many others.

     Was my friend perfect? No, just as I am not. But he was being transformed into the image of his Savior (2 Corinthians 3:18). The Christian life is a process that begins with faith in what Jesus has done to give them new life. Once the process starts it continues until God has done His work in a person. Paul wrote, “I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished…” (Philippians 1:6).

     At 33,000 feet I had a lot to reflect upon. Not only upon my friend, but also what God had done in his life. I also had a lot to reflect upon in my own life. Am I finishing well? Am I someone who endures suffering not in one hopeless whine, but in a hope-filled anticipation of what God has prepared for me. I have not lost a friend; I know where he is. He is in another “Paradise” that Jesus said he was preparing for him (Cp. John 14:1-6). Not in Pennsylvania. Not in Yaak. But in heaven.