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Endo! Part I

"When through the deep waters I call thee to go, the rivers of woe shall not thee overflow; For I will be with thee thy troubles to bless, And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress."

It was a beautiful day for a bike ride. The air was crisp and cool. I had explored new trails, and felt great. So when I approached the water crossing I said to myself, "I can do this." I backed up about 5 yards from the bank to start my run so I would have plenty of momentum as I went across. I kicked hard against the pedals and propelled my front tire down the bank towards the bottom of the creek. I planned for it to hit the creek bottom, bounce up and out, and with my extra momentum roll up the opposite bank which was relatively shallow. Instead, when it hit the bottom it was immediately grabbed by the mud that I hadn't noticed, which stuck it like super glue. Consequently, my front axle became a fixed pivot point about which my linear momentum was transferred efficiently to angular momentum. In other words, I did a 180 end-over-end and landed with a crash on the opposite bank.

A number of sensations occurred just after I landed. First, my vision became blurred. Then I noticed a funny taste in my mouth. At the same time I experienced a funny tingling on my face-which is the part of my body that hit the ground first. That's when I started to realize that my vision problem came from my glasses---or actually the lack of my glasses which had flown off on impact. Still lying where I landed I groped with my outstretched hand and found them. "At least I don't have a concussion," I thought silently trying to encourage myself. And then it dawned upon me that the funny taste was that of blood that was flowing from my split lip, which even now was puffing up and starting to interfere with where my tongue likes to sit. I slowly pulled myself up, found that my bike was in much better shape than I was, and slowly pedaled the 5 miles back home. I spent the rest of the week nursing my wounds and trying to avoid going out in public where people would ask unwelcome questions about my lip and the continuous patch of scrapes on the right half of my face.

A few weeks later after my wounds had healed I went out riding once again, this time with my son David. We came to the famous water crossing and I retold the story of my futile attempt at getting across. Immediately he said, "Endo!" "Endo?" I said. "What's that mean." He said, "that's biker slang for 'end-over-end.' You did an Endo, Pop." (We now call that particular body of water "Endo Creek.")

I suppose every biker, if he rides long enough, eventually does an Endo. Either through his own incompetence, like me, or through unforeseen obstacles like a log or a hole or maybe even an assertive automobile. In that way, biking is like life in general. As the one of Job's comforters put it: "Man is born to trouble as surely as the sparks fly upward." (Job 5:7) In other word, life is full of spiritual Endo's.

On May 1, 2000, Susan and I experienced the biggest Endo of our lives. That was the day the two surgeons emerged from the operating room with very grave looks on their faces. Even before I heard them speak the news, I could read it in their eyes. "Your wife has ovarian cancer that has spread to the liver." Although I thought I was prepared for the worst, their words completely devastated me. I felt I had been hit with a wrecking ball, physically and emotionally. "How could this be?" I thought. "Susan is a true saint who deeply cares for others, and keeps on giving and giving. She certainly doesn't deserve to have a life-threatening illness like this."

So began the latest chapter in my personal pilgrimage to get a grip on the meaning of suffering and death. It's one thing to study God's Word about these issues when healthy and everything is going fine. It's quite another when a loved one or we ourselves are in the middle of a life-threatening trial. Just as in biking, reading about an Endo is light years apart from experiencing one in person in the flesh.

In this article--and a following one if the editor is so inclined-I want to share some thoughts about these issues with the assistance of the author D. A. Carson, who has written a very helpful book entitled How Long, O Lord? Reflections on Suffering and Evil.

A major observation that Carson makes inductively from a number of passages of Scripture is: we are all under the condemnation of death. In our exceedingly prosperous society we are often insulated from this fundamental Biblical fact. "It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment." (Heb. 9:27) Thus, when we lose a loved one-particularly one who has not lived out his or her "three score and ten years", we nonetheless have to acknowledge that death was deserved. As sinners following our father Adam, we are all under the same judgment that hung over him: "in the day you eat thereof, you shall surely die." At the core of our unredeemed being is that same passion that he had--to be like God on our terms and not his. In a fallen universe the judgment of sickness and death-however repugnant they might be-is a judgment deserved.

Balancing that fact is another of equal importance: the promise of eternal life for the people of God. John refers to this eternal life no less than17 times in his gospel. Indeed the mission statement of Jesus as summarized in John 3:16 is that the redeemed world should have everlasting life by means of his work. Although the exact nature of that life is "beyond what we can ask or think," it's clearly unending. Mathematicians struggle with defining the concept of infinity, which is comparable to that of eternity. They are more comfortable dealing with very small quantities which are often symbolized by the Greek letter delta in their equations. In mathematical terms, we can think of eternal life as "infinity minus delta," where delta is our very small lifespan on earth. These minutes that seem so precious to us in this life will pale in insignificance to the unending minutes in the life to come. More important even than the quantity is the quality of that eternal life. As Paul puts it (I Cor. 13;12), "Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."

Thus, our momentary disappointment with the mystery of illness, suffering and death will be totally compensated for in the blessedness of eternity where we shall "know fully."

Standing above these two facts of universal condemnation for sin and an eternal life of blessedness for the redeemed is yet another, which is a hallmark of our Reformed beliefs: the sovereignty of God. Not too long ago a best-selling book by a Jewish rabbi appeared entitled "When Bad Things Happen to Good People." At the heart of the book was the idea that God is not sovereign. As the author put it: "I can worship a God who hates suffering but cannot eliminate it, more easily than I can worship a God who chooses to make children suffer and die." A fatal flaw with that view is of course that if God is not sovereign, then there is no guarantee that good will triumph over evil. Satan may in fact win.

As Professor Carson points out, a better book title would be: "When Good Things Happen to Bad People." The truth revealed in Scripture is that our Sovereign Lord has ensured that good things will happen to a people formerly in rebellion against him. Whether it be deep waters or water crossings, "I will be with thee thy troubles to bless, And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress."

Other Pop Writings:
Caddo! (5/2002)
Raising Cane (4/2002)
Ask Anything? (3/2002)
The Race (3/2002)
The Hill (3/2002)
A Remembrance (3/2002)
Christmas, 1941 (12/2001)
Endo II (3/2001)
Endo I (10/2000)
The Course (5/2000)
The Rope (1/2000)

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