Stephen
Terry, Director
Complete
in Christ
Commentary
for the March 7, 2026, Sabbath School Lesson
"How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and day after day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over
me? Look on me and answer, Lord my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep
in death, and my enemy will say, 'I have overcome him,' and my foes will
rejoice when I fall." Psalm 13:2-4
Today, I was reminded, "The last
enemy to be destroyed is death." (1 Corinthians 15:26) Many of us are particularly
close to pets we have loved for years. They depend upon us and we lovingly care
for them while they return that love in devotion to us that can surpass the
love of humanity in faithfulness and presence. For the past twelve years, my
wife and I have had that relationship with two Siamese cats we rescued from a Humane
Society shelter. First was Jasmine and next was her brother-by-another-mother,
Simeon. Both were victims of abuse before being placed in the shelter and had
resulting health issues. Jasmine has struggled her entire life with skin and
nervous system issues as well as allergies and difficulty keeping anything down
after eating. Consequently, she is skinny as a rail and does not like to put up
with nonsense as she is already dealing with enough from day to day. At 15
years of age, she is also frail and unsteady in her gait.
Simeon, on the other hand, came
to us without apparent physical issues. But mentally he was very fearful and for
a few years he was always afraid someone was going to hurt him. Because of that
fear, he was not at that time one to jump into a warm lap like Jasmine often
did. Eventually a physical problem did pop up though. He was diagnosed with
diabetes at an annual physical. This meant doses of insulin twice daily and
blood sugar monitoring. This kept him relatively healthy with only a few minor flare-ups
through the years. I trained him to come to a counter near the kitchen to get
his insulin, and he knew when it was time, and I usually did not need to call
him. Things were going well, and during the past several months, he spent more
time asking for attention with petting and lap time, attention I was more than
happy to give him. Loud purring was often the result.
This pleasant relationship ended
today. When we awoke, he was meowing plaintively, terrified and in pain in the
living room. He could no longer use his hind legs. I suspected diabetes because
in the past when he would get a little down on his hocks his insulin would need
a slight increase and that would quickly get him back in form. I gave him an
injection, but the problem did not resolve as before. His abdomen and lower
extremities were unresponsive, and he continued to wail loudly. I got him to
the veterinarian right away, and they did blood work and x-rays to rule out any
other cause. Everything came back normal except his blood glucose which was
elevated despite the insulin I had given him. He was suffering from Diabetic
Neuropathy. While it was possible that he might respond to the insulin over
time, it would probably take several months with him suffering greatly. I
consulted with my wife, and we had to make the difficult decision to relieve
his suffering. One of the hardest things I have ever done was petting and
comforting him while seeing the light of life leave those beautiful eyes that
had been looking so deeply into mine, hoping I could somehow make everything
right again in his world. Sadly, I do not have that power.
As a medic during the Vietnam
War and as someone who has lost his first wife to illness we could do nothing
about, I have seen too much death, and it breaks my heart every time. My current
wife and I are both elderly with chronic health issues, and we know that one or
the other of us will see the other one die. Neither of us looks forward to that
loss. Compared to our pets, we feel we have long lives. But this means we have
to say goodbye to them too often over our lifetimes. I imagine that our lives
also seem tragically short to God, and I believe it
breaks his heart just as the death of those we love breaks ours. God is no
stranger to such feelings. Jesus wept over the death of Lazarus, and how it
must have broken Mary's heart to see her son's life flicker out on the cross.
Life is a special gift, but too many treat it with indifference, attacking and
harming others as though it were a minor matter. As I write this, wars are
raging across the planet with victories being tallied in body counts of the
dead, those bodies of sons and daughters whose eyes have lost the light of hope
and joy because someone else who died inside long ago decided it. Those who do
this like those in Bob Dylan's "Masters of War" dance among the corpses,
celebrating the putrefying bodies, unaware of the stench they raise to the
heavens.
Jesus said, "The thief comes
only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life and
have it to the full." (John 10:10) Those who kill and destroy steal lives and
property, but only Jesus brings life in its fullness. We have diffculty
accepting that however. The thief lives a long life
and appears to thrive while the righteous, the compassionate, the empathetic
are ridiculed and harried into the grave by those who have given their lives to
evil. One day though the righteous will receive the life they deserve when the
fullness of Christ's promise comes to fruition at his return. (1
Corinthians 15:22-57) It is hard to wait for that day, especially with
broken hearts. Maybe impatience is why some believe that the dead fly away to
their reward when they die. But how sad it would be for our loved ones to be
dwelling in some sort of spiritual world, seeing our broken hearts and our
sufferings and be unable to do anything about it. That does not sound very
heavenly. Sleeping in the grave gives our hearts rest from that agony. With the
constant struggle against evil, I can see the value of that rest already.
I do not pretend to know what to
expect once Christ returns and the graves are opened. But Paul, quoting Isaiah
wrote, "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart
of man the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him." (1
Corinthians 2:9, KJV) Does this mean that we will look into the eyes of those we
have loved with the light of life once again shining forth? I like to believe that.
Will it include our pets who have died? Will it include former spouses or
children who have died far too young? I do not know, but Paul's statement that
we have not begun to conceive of what will be there leaves room for those things
and more.
Therre is also a completeness in
Christ that can serve us well in this life, even in the face of death. I have
seen it repeatedly in those who are making that transition from life to death.
The hope of a life to come of bliss and peace helps to relieve the anxiety that
can accompany death. I saw this with my mother as she was in hospice and was
agitated. One of the things that calms my anxieties is to recite from memory
the 23rd Psalm. As my wife, Karin, and I attended her, nothing relieved
her anxiety. But when I recited that psalm, Karin, who was holding her hand felt
her relax and shortly after she passed to her peace. While I am told that
others have found different ways of approaching death that work for them, I
have found that there are many who recall in their final moments the lessons of
Sunday School or Vacation Bible School that became a part of their earliest understanding
of the world and its purpose and find peace.
Jesus said, "Let the little
children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to
such as these." (Luke 18:16) A child understands the pain of losing a pet and
instinctively knows that death is not right. It is an aberration. So, when
Jesus promises us life in the face of all the death that surrounds us in this
world, the innocence of a child yearns for and hopes for that lif. And despite
what we see as adults, it is something we can and should hope for also. My wife
tells me she looks forward to seeing one day those who have already died,
including former pets and even my first wife. She believes that heaven will have
room for such extended families and the different notes of harmony they provide
for the heavenly chorus. And why not? If "God is love," (1 John 4:8) why wouldn t
he make a heaven like that?