Therefore, we are always confident, knowing that, while we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord. (For we walk by faith, not by sight.) Now, we are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body and be present with the Lord.

Words of great comfort, words we have heard many times. There are many poems and songs that carry words of comfort and peace. “Go Rest High On That Mountain” is a song that seems to give hope. We could list many such words and poems and songs. The difference with the above words, however, is that they are straight out of the Word of God. 2 Corinthians 5:6-8. There is a special comfort to me when the Bible speaks. I have used that passage many times, both for those in grief and for myself. Pastors have their own grief and that passage, when it is a believer who has died, has helped me through countless dark times.

‘Absent from the body, present with the Lord.’ Orville Chamberlain’s passing has me turning back to this passage once again. I find solace there, but also a question; at what moment does the soul leave the body? Obviously, at the point of death, but when does that occur? 

2004. Emergency Room at Geneva Memorial Hospital, Geneva, Ohio. Fellow pastor and friend Harry Pischura lay on a steel table. I had never actually seen anyone paddled with electricity to get their heart restarted. It surprised me, for some reason, to see that it was pretty much as on TV. Obviously, I wasn’t supposed to be in a place where I could see this activity, but he was Pastor Pischura and I was Pastor Wade and no one was telling me to leave. I was there with his wife and I was blocking her view. Time after time the doctor hit Harry with voltage. Time after time there was no change on the EKG monitor. Finally, the doctor stepped back. Quietly he called the time out so it could be noted as the time of death. A nurse asked him to try once or twice more. The man on the table and the woman who was squeezing my hand hard enough to break bones had just had a child a couple of weeks before. With a deep sigh the doctor applied paddles once more. And the monitor came to life. The heart was beating erratically, but it settled down quickly enough into a regular, strong beat.

Had usual procedure been followed, Harry would have been pronounced dead and there would have been no further effort to revive him. But there was that last little bit of life. When does the soul leave the body?

I would hate to be a doctor and have to make that call. All your education and training and years of experience, yet you might be wrong. That would weigh heavy on me.

I like it so much better to be as it is from my perspective. ‘Absent from the body, present with the Lord.’ I don’t have to determine between life and death. To me it is all about life. ‘Absent from the body, present with the Lord.’

What amazing things await us in heaven? I don’t really know. The Bible gives us a little insight, but not all that much. We think we know. Fluffy clouds, all fenced in with St. Peter at the gate checking folks in as though they were entering a water park, but that is just made up. I think if we really knew what was there, people would be doing all they could do to hurry the process along. But a hint would be nice, wouldn’t it?

Bonnie Gleason was a wonderful lady. She had a quick wit and she could hold her own with me in any verbal exchange. Because of a negative reaction to a medication, her liver failed. She was put on a transplant list but she went very quickly. She was dying and I was the only one with her. Hr husband was deceased, she had no children and her niece had not yet gotten to the hospital. As she lay there in a hospital bed, slipping away and gripping my hand, she related stories of her life. Then she grew quiet. Her eyes grew large. She spoke once more. “Oh my! Pastor, do you see that?” “See what, Bonnie?” “No, of course you can’t! Not your time! Oh my!” A smile was on her face, a smile that lit up the room. “Oh my! More than I imagined! I wish you could see this!” Then her grip eased. She slumped against the mattress. She spoke no more. The monitors brought the nurses and then a doctor. They fussed over her, but she was gone. One nurse said to another, “Well, at least she had a smile on her face.”

I have been in the presence of saints when they have passed. Not all had that reaction, but most are on pain meds or some other kind of drug to make their passing easier. But Bonnie’s passing was all the hint I would ever need. “Oh my! More than I imagined!”

I grieve for Martha and Scott and Kitty and their families. I grieve for Doris and for Max and their families. I pray for Brian, who is doing his uncle’s funeral. He would have it no other way, but it will be a difficult labor of love. I also think of all those people in all those other countries where Orville and Martha traveled, those people who were taught better farming by a smallish man from America. I wonder how many lives he saved by helping them to avoid famine. All those thoughts run through my mind.

But mostly, I see Orville standing there, a beautiful light shining on him. After all, absent from the body, present with the Lord. I see him looking around at all that is before him, a great smile on his face. “Oh my! More than I imagined!”

Blessings.