A few times during my childhood I had a dream of having fallen over a cliff and hanging by my right hand to a small shrub to keep myself from plunging into the abyss below. Another man who had also fallen over the precipice was holding on for dear life to my left hand. Finally, in extreme exhaustion, I let go of the man holding onto me. Waking up, I felt horribly guilty.
Finally, I can revise that nightmare and complete the story with a happy ending: By holding on to my brother with EVERYTHING, I shall be saved.
By the way Jesus died, he converted the Roman centurion who was in charge of his execution. Imagine the tough life of this soldier and how calloused he would have become to the suffering that was common around him. But he saw in Jesus someone who did not use his powers of resistance. Jesus forgive the soldiers who knew nothing of their victims and had their work to do; he instructed his apostle John to take care of his mother, responded with faith encouragement to his crucified neighbor who called out for salvation, focused his mind by recalling Psalm 22, which begins in distress and ends in triumph; and he ended his life in strength and in the power of faith: “Father, it is finished. Into your hands I comment my spirit.”
We can understand why the centurion would have been moved to join Jesus’ followers. He had seen the triumph of death with dignity and more. He had seen the supreme revelation of devotion to the Father and supreme love and mercy poured out upon all those who might be reached, directly or indirectly, by that love and mercy.
In order to have my last hours focused on the Father and on the one I follow, I have wanted to die in solitude. But I recently reflected: Perhaps witnessing my dying could encourage someone’s faith. If a person wants to accompany me on the last leg of this journey, I will welcome them.
There is one more part to this meditation. I measure my life by the yardstick of my direct and indirect contribution to evangelism. It seems to me that there is one great decision that each person makes in this world, the decision to say yes or no to God. Everything else is secondary. So my essential service is to help others see the way of faith so that they may be encouraged in the solitary decision that each person must make alone.
Life in this world normally brings persons to “a parting of the ways.” This phrase comes from Joshua, the successor of Moses, who challenged his people, “Choose this day whom you will serve.” I interpret the parting of the ways as implying that there is a supreme decision that we make to God’s invitation to join him in the way of life. After that watershed decision, our life will flow one direction or the other. I have met people who seemed to have passed the parting of the ways and said no; in the case of one of them, I can entertain no doubt whatsoever. But I have decided to assume that there is still hope for everyone, unless I am Told otherwise. Following the principle of assuming the potential for success in conditions of uncertainty, I will keep holding on.
May the way you die—and live—be such as would convert a centurion.
I wholeheartedly agree that the decision to say yes or no to God is the one great decision in this world. How could it be otherwise? In fact, it seems to me that every genuine decision we make in this life is a kind of subset of that great decision. Each decision leads toward one ultimate answer or the other, but no matter how we may vacillate no decision is completely neutral, and we cannot delay the ultimate decision forever.
Nice!
The process of liberation of the soul from the material mind can be a terrifying experience, one that is full of fear and anguish, bespeaking the lack of spiritual faith and the failure to attain philosophical levels of living wherein one resigns himself to philosophically letting go of all the worthwhile values in human life, everything that has been dear. Such a one is grateful to have participated in the game of life, and has made peace with the end of it. But there is a third level to the process of liberation of the soul from the material mind, and that is where the self rises to true spiritual levels and catches a faith glimpse into the arena where philosophy ends and spiritual experiences join it and eventually supersede it.
Since we are interested in “slaying the centurion by the way we die,” it becomes apparent that in order to do so we must not only overcome the terrifying experience of the faith deficient individual but must transcend the logic and reasoning of the philosopher. In order to achieve this goal, we must reach a plateau where faith, trust, and that all important quality hope that signifies that one has approached, made contact, and has become one with God. ( He acknowledges that God is his Father so he must be his son) Such a one can inspire others to do the same.
But the question is what is the process of achieving all of this and how does one enter into that process? In my reflection and meditation, I offer these thoughts for consideration:
At some point in time, the thoughtful one recognizes that there are certain problems in life that are not amendable to the applications of the laws of science, nor the logic and reasoning of philosophy. Not even the embrace of moral realities can solve these problems. A person can be very moral and still realize that there is a vast arena beyond that morality can not reach.
When this occurs, in order to find some resolution to these problems that will not go away, but keep nagging away like a toothache, (And while it is true that the toothache will eventually go away, that does not solve the problem that caused the toothache in the first place.) the person enters the realm of faith which instructs him that there is a first personal cause, a creator that has all the answers to those tarrying questions that the self longs to have answered.
Faith then instructs the self to cultivate this reality that I call God. The cultivation of this relationship soon leads to a positive consciousness of God, and is accompanied by the urge to do his will. If the self succumbs to this urge, then he begins the process of becoming like God. He begins to take on the character traits of God, and soon becomes convinced that he will survive this life, and one day as it were meet this God face to face.
As time passes, the self begins to age, and finally reaches that point where he becomes absolutely sure of his mortal end. At this point he begins to more consciously identify with the spirit of God that lives within his mind. And this identification is effected by the force of his decision- when he says yes to God rather than no in the continuing emerging conflicts between his way and God’s way. But finally the time arrives when his material mechanism forces him to retire from life, and he readies himself for the mortal end.
But as he moves toward the mortal end and the gate of total unconsciousness, the divine spirit lies beside him and becomes his assurance that he will survive the passing through the unconscious gate of death. This awareness of the divine spirit accompanying him through the gate of mortal death imparts that peace that passes all understanding and hope propels him onward to the barrier where in an instant he finds himself awakening into a new life. And the glory of this joy is unfathomable; it has no limits.
Those observing such a process from the outside can only observe someone who is at total peace with himself and the world, resting quietly awaiting the final moment of the mortal life. Yes, I believe this will “slay the centurion” not only by the way he has died, but also by the way he has lived.
Dr. Perry
What a privilege to have this testimony from a brother more richly experienced in the path of the life of faith!