BK Articles
Clouds Of Witness
My Dad spent his early years in the stately but austere Orphan House in Charleston, South Carolina. In his teens he worked at the Naval ship yard there and, like the prodigal son, spent his life in "riotous living". But after a World War II stint in the Army Air Corps as a flight engineer, God got hold of my Dad. He felt a call into the ministry and spent the rest of his life touching those who, like him, had no place to call home but the House of God. I remember falling asleep on the front pew as he preached in the churches he'd planted in rural Georgia. I remember potlucks after church under the shade of pine trees, eating fried chicken, black-eyed peas, watermelon and sweet tea. Later, we traveled the world as he served in the chaplaincy of the Air Force. In his retirement years, he and my mom made many missionary trips around the world and touched the lives of thousands of people. My Dad died unexpectedly on July 13, 1991. Of course, we all miss him. But we believe in the resurrection and in heaven.
He has joined the "cloud of witnesses" written about in Hebrews. I like that biblical metaphor because I have a frequently recurring image that crosses my mind when I am in concert. Sometimes I will back away from the microphone after a song and, while the audience applauds, I'll "see" my Dad in the cloud of witnesses, cheering me on. It gives me a great deal of encouragement to think that he has preceded me and is applauding my efforts.
But the question I ask myself is this- What have I done that is worthy of applause in heaven? Maybe they like my songs. Maybe they laugh at my anecdotes. Maybe they are moved by my stories. I don't know, maybe all of the above. And maybe not. Perhaps what moves them are things I overlook or can't see- the kind word spoken to the exasperated flight attendant, the simple and sincere prayer offered before the concert by a young volunteer, the sudden burst of spiritual illumination that comes to someone as they finally realize and experience the depth of the love God has for them, the hug a child gives me after the concert is over and everyone is going home. What gets a rousing response in heaven? What makes the cloud of witnesses rise up with a shout of joy? We who trust in Jesus and lay our hope in the resurrection also believe this- that there is a great difference in the value systems of heaven and earth. Sometimes we count our successes in numbers of people at our concerts, or numbers of units sold of our recordings, or dollars earned, or articles written, or awards received or applause given- But! Is the cloud of witnesses cheering us on in these things or are they waiting for something else? Perhaps lots of something else- the character of Christ growing in us, the pursuit of holiness, the giving of care to "the least of these", the sacrifice of praise, the commitment to God and God alone... and you can add to this list yourself.
Jesus said that we would be judged by every idle word we speak. Did He speak that as a threat, or as a reminder to us to see each word as possibly an eternally damning indictment? Or could He have meant simply that our character slips out in the unguarded moments and the unplanned actions, in the words that we don't premeditate? Could it be that what we do "for show"- and what is often loudly cheered by earthly onlookers- is dismissed in heaven in favor of the smaller, private expressions of His love. Tell me, what part of my life gets the best response from my Dad and the rest of the cloud of witnesses... and from Jesus? I visited Mother Teresa's Home for the Destitute and Dying in Calcutta, India on two occasions. Each time, I was impressed with the tender love the staff showed to the dying beggars that lay gaunt and passive on the rows of beds. I sat on the edge of a bed and sang to forty abandoned boys in the Calcutta Mission of Mercy Boys Home. I thought about my Dad at their age in the Charleston Orphan House. I could "see" him in the clouds of witness. And, while those boys and I laughed and sang, I think I heard him cheering me on.
My Dad spent his early years in the stately but austere Orphan House in Charleston, South Carolina. In his teens he worked at the Naval ship yard there and, like the prodigal son, spent his life in "riotous living". But after a World War II stint in the Army Air Corps as a flight engineer, God got hold of my Dad. He felt a call into the ministry and spent the rest of his life touching those who, like him, had no place to call home but the House of God. I remember falling asleep on the front pew as he preached in the churches he'd planted in rural Georgia. I remember potlucks after church under the shade of pine trees, eating fried chicken, black-eyed peas, watermelon and sweet tea. Later, we traveled the world as he served in the chaplaincy of the Air Force. In his retirement years, he and my mom made many missionary trips around the world and touched the lives of thousands of people. My Dad died unexpectedly on July 13, 1991. Of course, we all miss him. But we believe in the resurrection and in heaven.
He has joined the "cloud of witnesses" written about in Hebrews. I like that biblical metaphor because I have a frequently recurring image that crosses my mind when I am in concert. Sometimes I will back away from the microphone after a song and, while the audience applauds, I'll "see" my Dad in the cloud of witnesses, cheering me on. It gives me a great deal of encouragement to think that he has preceded me and is applauding my efforts.
But the question I ask myself is this- What have I done that is worthy of applause in heaven? Maybe they like my songs. Maybe they laugh at my anecdotes. Maybe they are moved by my stories. I don't know, maybe all of the above. And maybe not. Perhaps what moves them are things I overlook or can't see- the kind word spoken to the exasperated flight attendant, the simple and sincere prayer offered before the concert by a young volunteer, the sudden burst of spiritual illumination that comes to someone as they finally realize and experience the depth of the love God has for them, the hug a child gives me after the concert is over and everyone is going home. What gets a rousing response in heaven? What makes the cloud of witnesses rise up with a shout of joy? We who trust in Jesus and lay our hope in the resurrection also believe this- that there is a great difference in the value systems of heaven and earth. Sometimes we count our successes in numbers of people at our concerts, or numbers of units sold of our recordings, or dollars earned, or articles written, or awards received or applause given- But! Is the cloud of witnesses cheering us on in these things or are they waiting for something else? Perhaps lots of something else- the character of Christ growing in us, the pursuit of holiness, the giving of care to "the least of these", the sacrifice of praise, the commitment to God and God alone... and you can add to this list yourself.
Jesus said that we would be judged by every idle word we speak. Did He speak that as a threat, or as a reminder to us to see each word as possibly an eternally damning indictment? Or could He have meant simply that our character slips out in the unguarded moments and the unplanned actions, in the words that we don't premeditate? Could it be that what we do "for show"- and what is often loudly cheered by earthly onlookers- is dismissed in heaven in favor of the smaller, private expressions of His love. Tell me, what part of my life gets the best response from my Dad and the rest of the cloud of witnesses... and from Jesus? I visited Mother Teresa's Home for the Destitute and Dying in Calcutta, India on two occasions. Each time, I was impressed with the tender love the staff showed to the dying beggars that lay gaunt and passive on the rows of beds. I sat on the edge of a bed and sang to forty abandoned boys in the Calcutta Mission of Mercy Boys Home. I thought about my Dad at their age in the Charleston Orphan House. I could "see" him in the clouds of witness. And, while those boys and I laughed and sang, I think I heard him cheering me on.