It was April, 1945 and I sat on a throw rug on our wooden floor listening to a radio that was as tall as I was. It had beautiful decorative wood carvings over the cloth covering the speaker and the dial was fun to play with because of the wooing and wowing noises that occurred on either side of a clear station. But this day I was not playing. I was listening to the voice of Arthur Godfrey and he was crying as he was trying to describe the funeral procession for Franklin D. Roosevelt. It was my first experience with death. That night when my father came home from school we talked about death. This was different from what I had learned in Sabbath School. I had seen pictures of Jesus on the cross but He lived again on Sunday. Why, I asked, wouldn’t President Roosevelt be alive again next week? Maybe he could be like Lazarus and Jesus would call him forth.
My theology hasn’t changed much since I was almost three. I still believe and I look forward to a great day when Jesus will indeed call forth His children. Paul wrote, “For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first.” I Thessalonians 4:16.
There was no doubt and there is no doubt now. Perhaps the only difference is now I know where the promise can be found. This is what being a Christian is all about. Death will be destroyed. No longer will we fear its separating pain. This is not complicated. Even a very little guy can get it.
Written by Roger Bothwell on September 29, 2015
PO Box 124, St. Helena, CA 94574