The Last Time

They all wept as they embraced him and kissed him. Acts 20:37  NIV

Wept– Most of the time we don’t know it’s the last time.  Most of the time we simply assume there will be another time, just like this time, just like the last time.  We imagine that today will be followed by tomorrow, much the same way that now followed before, and because we make this terrible assumption, we lose sight of this time as the last time.  We squander the precious present for the possible future.  Buechner comments on the friends gathered at a dinner party.

“But not knowing is sad in another way because it means that we also won’t know how precious this supper is, how precious these friends are whom we will be sitting down with for the last time whether we know it or not. . . . because the day will come beyond which there will be no other supper with them ever again.  The time will come when time will run out for us too, . .”[1]

When Paul left Ephesus, they knew he wasn’t coming back.  The text says they began weeping aloud (hikanós égéneto klauthmós).   Not just whimpers.  Not suppressing the feelings of loss, of tragedy and absence.  Not being proper.  Paul would be gone forever, and since they knew he would be gone, they didn’t hold back anything.

I wonder if we are capable of this.  We have been trained to keep it under control, to hold back that inner terror that this person, these people, who are now with us, so full of life, so present to us, might never be seen again.  We don’t weep over our goodbyes.  We shake hands, say, “See you later,” and exit.  But underneath it all is the realization that “See you later” is wishful thinking; that “See you later” might never be.  What would we have said if we knew it was the last time? Would we have the courage to embrace, to weep, to kiss, to let our tears rinse away our fears?  What words did we leave on the table to be scraped into the trash can—forgotten?  What tenderness wasn’t marinated by a carefully watched pot before we served it saturated with love?  How I longed to be able to express how much you meant to me, and how I regret that I didn’t. Good manners overcame emotions, and we were both diminished by propriety.

I am sure Paul wept as well.  Just thinking about this scene brings tears to my eyes because I know what this should have been like for all my “good byes.”  So many I will miss. So many who needed to know how much I will miss them.  How much of me was left behind when I walked away without knowing this was the last time.

Cry aloud. Or suffer that inner maelstrom while leaking tears of regret.

Topical Index: klauthmós, wept, absence, regret, Acts 20:37

[1]Frederick Buechner  Secrets in the Dark: A Life in Sermons(HarperOne, 2006), p. 266.

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Laurita Hayes

It’s fear. All that propriety is fear.

In my younger days I worked with wild animals. Of all the wild cats, I loved the tigers best. Almost all cats are solitary for most of their lives (except for breeding or raising cubs): they have to be because they need large territories to feed themselves. When tigers get together to breed, they have to invade territory as well as personal space. Believe it or not, this a fearful thing for tigers for more than one reason. As they are distance hunters, their vision is calibrated accordingly. They make all their decisions well before they get close: by the time they have closed that distance, they are on automatic; the course has been set. This is because tigers have no close vision: they cannot see objects that are next to them. How terrifying is it to be close to a several-hundred# animal whose every instinct is to be alone and NOT BE ABLE TO SEE IT? Tigers are terrified of each other, too: the slightest misunderstanding could escalate instantly into a deadly, wound-invested encounter. So, they compensate. When they cannot see each other, they rely on their hearing by means of a continuous, soft “whiffle” sound. As long as they can hear that sound, they stay relaxed. This makes it easy to keep a tiger’s emotions and reactions predictable: all you have to do is make a placating sound! It’s great!

Humans, I was thinking yesterday, have a complex series of mannerisms to keep each other relaxed – for much the same reasons. We, too, are solitary (grace-dependent nut cases!) who have to do business with each other to survive even though we are deathly afraid of each other: particularly of each other’s words, for speech is our preferred intra-species weapon of choice. So, we have developed ways to hide next to each other so as to keep ourselves and those around us from acting on the fear we know is already there. We hide behind tone: we ramp it down and smooth it out. For tonal languages, such as some of the far Eastern ones, this can get very complicated: the oriental has perfected the way to communicate death with a smile and a soft voice. Ok, so we can’t tell the truth about each other with tone. But we choose words to mask where we are coming from, too; as well as facial expressions and even body language: all ways to hide from each other as well as to disarm each other. All in the name of survival.

But, what if we really did treat each encounter as if our lives depended upon the TRUTH of that encounter? What if we realized that life and death are in the tongue: that we can kill ourselves and those around us softly, or we could shock and amaze and call from the grave and disarm with forgiveness instead of disingenuity? What if we intended life instead of the death of trading on fear? Well, we have to move beyond fear, first: fear of that death. If we knew we were on death row with nothing to lose: if we were all dead folks talking: what would come out of our mouths? Wait: we ARE all supposed to be dead folks walking! Are we there, yet? Lives depend on it.

Mark Parry

Greetings brethren, and brother Skip. Good post. One that to me underlines the cognative, and emotional disconections foisted on us by living in un-reality.Living in our minds rather than through our spirit. Living in our resonable response to life, rather than living our lives. Because “we have been trained to keep it under control, to hold back that inner terror “. This training is living on the fruit of ” the tree of the knowledge of good and evil” rather than the tree of life. I am reminded of the words of Saint Irenious. As I recall (and paraphrase with out checking my facts, regretting my actuale time constrints) Irenious was an early third century saint. One of the early “Bishop’s ” In the Constintinian rule. He was mayrtered the last “Christian” to be so executed by the Romans.. The dignity of his death so embarrassed the Romans that they stopped this is brutality. Times had changed, the very Roman culture had changed. Grace had arrived in the spiritual atmospher at Pentecost a few hundred years before. Irenious was one of the last of the generation of “Christan” leaders that had walked shoulder to shoulder with the disciples. He as they had known the spiritual atmosphere that Messiah inhabited. A Messianic Hebrew world view from a once present Hebrew nation and dominant religios culture. He was one of the last to know these riches.. This before the major winds of change the actions of Constantine and other agents of the Adversary initiatediated to split the path between the “christians” and those that walked the actuale way of the Messiah of Isreal (the Christ) . It was Irenious, a Greek thinker that allowed “the washing of the word” to so change his mind he was able to “play the man” at his death with such power he embaressed a coliseum of Romans. He was so present in his last moments that It was by his death his now famous statment is so poingent “The glory of God is man fully alive”.

Mark Parry

Thinking that, besides my usual spellings disfunction, I confused Irenious with Polycarp. Polycarp it was who “played the” man at his death while Irenious watched on, me thinks? It was (me thinks, not confirms) that Polycarp was the disciple of John or James?. The real point is they that “rubed shoulders ” with the early ones had more of the reality of the true spirtual revolution of the cross. Knowing the smell and texture of the ground that cross was actually planted in rather, than a sterilized idea of it, brings more reality into ones understanding.

mark

Being in a rush the above was so riddled with errors I went back and checked my facts, and re-wrote it for the record…..

Greetings brethren, and Brother Skip. Good post. One that to me underlines the cognitive and emotional disconnections foisted on us by living in un-reality. Living in our minds rather than through our spirit. Living in our reasonable response to life, rather than living our lives. Because “we have been trained to keep it under control, to hold back that inner terror “. This training is living on the fruit of ” the tree of the knowledge of good and evil” rather than the tree of life. I am reminded of the words of Saint Irenaeus (130 Ad-202AD). As I recall Irenaeus was a second century saint. One of the early “Bishop’s of Lyons and a strong opponent of early Gnostics.”. He watched his mentor Polycarp (Byshop of Smyrna (69ad-155ad) be martyred the last “Christian” to be so executed by the Romans.The dignity of Polycarps death so embarrassed the Romans that they stopped the brutality of this particular form of death (burning at the stake in the coliseum before the crowds). . Times had changed; the very Roman culture had changed. Grace had arrived in the spiritual atmosphere at Pentecost a few hundred years before. Irenaeus was one of the last of the generation of “Christian” leaders that had walked shoulder to shoulder with those that knew those that walked with the disciples. They had known the spiritual atmosphere that Messiah inhabited. A Messianic Hebrew world view from a once present Hebrew nation and dominant religious culture.Polycarp was considered a disciple of the Apostle John. He was one of the last to know these riches. This before the major winds of change the actions of Constantine and other agents of the Adversary initiated to split the path between the “Christians” and those that walked the actual way of the Messiah of Israel (the Christ) . It was Irenaeus, a Greek thinker that allowed “the washing of the word” to so change his mind he was able to “play the man” and watch and learn from the death of Polycarp who soe embarrassed a coliseum of Romans. He was so present in his last moments that It was by his death his now famous student penned the now famous words… “The glory of God is man fully alive”.

Leslee Simler

Breakfast together on a weekday, not normal. Kisses, hugs, and I love yous all around, more usual. The three days before filled with the challenging – joyful – work of vulnerability and real communication. Three hours later he was ripped from this world in a head-on collision (the only fatality, no one else seriously injured). 22 years later my heart can still be torn asunder, my eyes whelmed with tears. 22 years earlier my own father had shared the importance of parting each and every time IN LOVE, just in case. I am forever grateful! Thank you for this, Skip, thank you!

Rich Pease

Time!
So fleeting for us who are mere vapors.
James reminds us we “appear for a little time
and then vanish away.”
In my latter years I’m learning to fully cherish
“the moment”. Every single one. Each is rich and
deep. Unique. Unequalled. And oh, so good!
I savor them all now.
Just this past year, many beloved friends and
family have left. Some very unexpectedly. Some
with the proper and appropriate tearful goodbyes.
No longer do I take anything for granted. And always
am I reminded that He “will never leave me.” Nor I Him.
That is so remarkably real and reassuring.
Tick. Tock.

mark

Time.
In the past I spent my time in the past,
I spent my time in the future,
I did not spend my time in the time;
Now it’s time
I was told, “when you’re young you have time but no money,”
and “when you’re old you have money but not time,”
I heard, “you can spend your time making money,
or you can spend your money making time.”
I think it’s time to spend your time in the time!
It’s not time for doubts,
It’s not time for regrets,
It’s not time for fear
It’s time to be all you were meant to be.
It’s time to just be.
It’s time,
It’s time,
It’s finely time!

wm. mark parry ©1985
@worksofwords.live