Will Babies Stay Babies in Heaven?

   I was asked this question by a fine young man who has recently lost his infant baby brother to a horrible, debilitating disease. He wanted to know if his baby brother, who was just shy of one year old, would remain in that state, or would he grow up? Since I am a pastor and amateur theologian, I gave him a short answer. But after I have had time to think on it and knowing many others have asked the same question, I wanted to answer in the best way I know how.

   This is really an area where we have to speculate. We don't have direct biblical teaching on this, but we do have the direct biblical teaching of having real, actual human bodies as created by God, not subject to sin, death, and suffering. 

   Some have guessed that babies are given a resurrection boy (1 Cor. 15:35-49). That is, babies are "fast-forwarded" for lack of a better term, to the "ideal age." Well, what exactly is the "ideal age." For centuries, church fathers like Thomas Aquinas believed it to be 33 years of age, the age of Jesus Christ when He was crucified and resurrected. 

1 John 3:2 declares, "Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when He appears, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is." 

   While this may be possible, and certainly a great thought, I am not entirely sold on that idea. There are passages like this from Isaiah chapter 11:

The wolf will live with the lamb,
    the leopard will lie down with the goat,
the calf and the lion and the yearling[a] together;
    and a little child will lead them.
7 The cow will feed with the bear,
    their young will lie down together,
    and the lion will eat straw like the ox.
8 The infant will play near the cobra’s den,
    and the young child will put its hand into the viper’s nest.
9 They will neither harm nor destroy
    on all my holy mountain,
for the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Lord
    as the waters cover the sea.

   Check out this passage from Isaiah 65:

“Never again will there be in it
    an infant who lives but a few days,
    or an old man who does not live out his years;
the one who dies at a hundred
    will be thought a mere child;
the one who fails to reach a hundred
    will be considered accursed."

   In both of these passages, God is describing what life will be like in the New Earth. And so I believe that a very good possibility is that God would resurrect that child at the age they died. If that is the case, God would not "fast-forward." He would not skip any stage. 

   This would make sense in interpreting the above passages that there would not be skipping of grow stages, but that they as children could literally grow up on the New Earth.

   In coming to this conclusion, it would fit logically into a eschatological interpretation of Luke 6 and other passages where Jesus promises to bring comfort to those who mourn on earth. In essence, God is saying through His Son Jesus: you experienced mourning and loss here on earth. On the New Earth, I will give you the joy and satisfaction of raising your child without the threat of harm, disease, and death. 

   Again, this is speculation on my part. But I believe there is biblical basis for this line of thought. So, for those of you who have lost children this Advent season take heart. Your Suffering Servant Jesus loves you and has great plans for you in heaven. He longs to replace your grief with joy and your loss with laughter. 

Until Jesus Comes,

Bryan 

Your Passion Cannot Be My Burden

     One of the great things about my calling as a pastor is I get to meet lots of folks. I have the privilege of walking with them through the joys and pains of life. Ministry is founded on relationships.

     A complex aspect of my calling is many people I come into contact with desire something from me. Now, that is not bad. God has given us gifts, talents, and resources to help others with. Where things go awry is when people expect me to take up their cause or passion.

     I have limitless opportunities to help people each week in my community and even around the world. There is no shortage of causes, concerns, or ministries to devote time and resources to. 

     I believe many people forget one important spiritual principle: your passion cannot be my burden. 

     What I mean is that God has given each of us certain assignments here on earth. Your passion is a key to that assignment. But not everyone has that same passion. Our job is to find those with like-minded passions and join together to fulfill that assignment. But one thing we have to keep in mind is that not everyone we come across will have that same passion.

      God has given me a certain assignment. While your passion may be good and kingdom-centered, if it does not align with my passion and calling, I am doing you and me a disservice if I try to take that on. It won't work. And it will lead to frustration and burnout.

     So, don't be offended when others pass on your passion. It is not personal, and it doesn't mean your cause or ministry isn't worthwhile. What it does mean is that person simply is not called to it. 

     Keep pursuing. Keep casting your vision. Those God has placed a similar calling on will come alongside you. And those are the people you want anyway. 

A Letter to My Sister

A Letter to My Sister

Dear Lesley,

I wanted to take a few minutes and tell you all the things I tried to express over our lives together. Over the past couple of days I have tried to process your death and sort through the many emotions I am struggling with right now. I pray in some way you will know how I feel and perhaps it will bring you some comfort.

You were almost five years older than me. For all of our lives, you would always refer to me as, “my little brother.” Growing up, I know you tolerated me as a big sister. Mom made you take me with you places, and although you acted like it cramped your style, I know you really didn’t mind.

I remember the Halloween parties at our house, with all your friends coming over, and me falling over myself trying to impress your pretty friends. I was the cute little mascot; all your friends doting over me with my fantasies of being able to date some of the prettiest girls in school.

My favorite memory is you taking me to a KISS concert at the old Greenville Memorial Auditorium for my thirteenth birthday. I got to bring along my friend Tony, which meant his older sister and your best friend Melissa came. She was my first crush. An absolutely stunning girl with a great personality; she saw me as another little brother like Tony.

We had an awesome time. We left the concert had realized your car got towed so we had to walk to the police station and pool all our money together to get it out. On the way home, Melissa sat in my lap because there wasn’t enough room. I could have died and gone to heaven. We were all young and full of potential. You were one of the prettiest girls in school and popular. I was the nerd. But your coolness gave me a little cred as a freshman in high school.

That was before the drugs took control of you.

I had to watch you destroy your life because you never could shake your demons. The garbage our parents put us through took a toll on all of us. But it hit you the hardest. I saw you turn to pain killers, then meth to sooth the tremendous pain inside.

When I walked home from my job at Ingles at midnight to our apartment on the bad side of town, I swore at sixteen I would escape. And I did. But it killed me I could not take you with me.

I know you turned to men to try and find the love and acceptance our dad never gave you. I watched men use you only to discard you like a piece of trash. I observed helplessly as drugs took everything from you and it broke my heart.

So many times I tried to help you over the years. Even when you stole from me to buy drugs I knew that wasn’t really you. I talked to you about Jesus and tried to get you in church, but you never felt good enough. I understand. Sometimes, church can be the cruelest place on earth. Many good churchgoers want everything in a nice, sanitized package. But we know better. We know how dirty life can be in the gutter, trying to claw your way out with no hope in sight.

The thing that kills me is that I don’t know where your soul is at. I know God does not change His standard for anyone. I wish you could have allowed Jesus to sooth your pain. I haven’t slept well since you passed and I’m not sure I ever will. I can’t stand the thought of you being separated from Christ for eternity.

I pray you somehow were able to make peace with Jesus. I am going to choose to remember you like you were on my thirteenth birthday. Full of life and promise before things got so bad. I am so sorry Lesley I was not able to get you out.

Love,

Your Little Brother

My Confession

I know you were probably expecting or wanting some salacious admittance of sin or wrongdoing. I am sorry to disappoint you on that front. However, what I have to say in the following paragraphs might surprise you somewhat.

 When I first felt called to vocational ministry some sixteen years ago, I wanted to help people and change the world. I still do, although my methods and perspectives have changed. You see, I have always struggled with inferiority mainly because of my upbringing and never feeling good enough. Growing up in an abusive home created some deep emotional baggage that in some ways I am still trying to get through. I became a pastor because I wanted God’s best for people and to see them fulfilled in God’s purposes for their lives. I could have chosen many things, but in my heart, I believed God wanted me to fulfill the role of pastor for the greater good of His Kingdom.

 Having been a pastor for going on thirteen years I can say the good has far outweighed the bad. I have been blessed to serve in churches that have taken care of me and my family. I have made many friends. While there have been bad times, and not all experiences with people have been positive, I am thankful God has spared me many difficulties and shown me tremendous grace.

 I don’t really talk about the pressures of being a pastor because I don’t want to seem ungrateful or that I am complaining. I worked in manufacturing for over six years before I entered vocational ministry, so I understand everyone has stress and pressure in their jobs to varying degrees. But let me say that being a pastor is unlike any other job in the world.

 Many folks expect you to be perfect and always say the “spiritual thing.” Showing emotion, such as being upset, or having a bad day is considered not being mature in the faith. Now, I understand pastors/elders are called to a high standard in Scripture. It is not my intention to water those qualifications down. But I wonder if we as a Christian community have not put expectations on people that they can never live up to.

 You see, I have had several friends in ministry take their lives because the burden and pressure became too great for them. I have spent all week struggling whether or not to even write this because I was anxious about how it would be received. But I have had so many emotions building for so long, I was compelled for my own emotional and spiritual well-being to be true to myself.

 In our culture, being true to oneself is rare. What I mean by being true to oneself is channeling who you are as God’s unique creation, flaws and all, and using that to the glory of God. We put our expectations on others to be who we want them to be and do what we want them to do. In the end, it creates people who are crushed because their dreams have died inside of them because of the demands of others.

 Pastors are unique in many ways. We are people pleasers by nature. It brings great emotional distress to know people we serve are unhappy with us. We were many hats: counselor, community activist, motivational leader, inspiring speaker, spiritual sage, and accessible neighbor. Our marriages, finances, and children must be picture perfect. Knowing everything we say and do is under a microscope can be paranoia-inducing.

 This can lead many to experience anxiety and depression. I know I have struggled with anxiety and depression as well. It brings comfort to me knowing some great men and women of God have had these same struggles. David, Elijah, John Bunyan, and Charles Spurgeon among others have battled these crippling emotions.

 I want to be perfect. I want to be the perfect pastor. I want to be the perfect husband and dad. But I know I can’t. Because Scripture tells us all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. And that dichotomy creates an internal struggle within me and can be very difficult to deal with. I struggle with feelings of failure: that I have failed the church I have been called to serve and failed those who have placed their trust in me. When things do not go well I blame myself.

 So, friend, you see that I am much harder on Bryan Cox than you could ever be. When I stand to proclaim God’s infallible Word I experience the conviction you do, knowing there is always room for improvement in my own life. When I call you to repentance, know I have brought myself down to my knees in weeping. Yes, I am painfully aware of my own shortcomings.

 I long for the day when those who profess Christ seek to help people become God’s best version of themselves, rather than seeking their own desires and preferences. The church in the United States is in real danger. While there are churches that are fulfilling the Great Commission and making disciples, many more are not. And that grieves my heart.

 I want to leave you with this. If you know me, I hope you realize I have always wanted the best for you for the glory of God. If you don’t know me, I pray you will seek to become true to yourself-who God created you to be for His glory. Finally, if you do not like me, I pray God will give you peace to move on from self-destructive behaviors.

 For the first time, I am going to be true to myself. I am going to pastor for as long as God allows, but there are some things I have put off. I am going to finish, Zachary’s Song, this summer for my son. It is my gift to him, but the book will not be your typical autism story. In the fall I have outlined a book, Greener Pastures, for publication. It is an edgy fiction work. In between, I am going to rediscover my love for painting and seek to have those works on display. In other words, I am going to CREATE.

 If you are going to church tomorrow (which I hope you will!), do me a favor and extend some grace to your pastor. You don’t know the battles he or she fights for you in the name of Christ. Encourage him or her. And most important-live for God’s glory and leave no regrets.

 A Beggar Showing Other Beggars the Bread of Life,

Bryan Cox