On Easter Sunday, Ruth, an elderly member of my congregation passed away after a relatively short stay in hospital. She was 94 years old, and had been ready to take her last journey for the last five years, having suffered the indignities of living in a Care Home where, unable to see very well and unable to walk, yet with her mental faculties still completely intact, she was generally unhappy and dissatisfied with her lot in life. She had not been the easiest person to get on with always, and the result of that was that few people visited her. I can only think of four people, including myself, and possibly a fifth. The last of her family as far as she knew, I was named as her next of kin, and so have the task of attending to her last wishes.
Her death set me thinking; musing on the frailty of life and the twists and turns that our lives can take. I discovered yesterday that in 1998 Ruth was awarded a certificate in recognition of her voluntary work by Cheshire County Council Social Services, the certificate being presented by The Duke of Westminster. I never knew about this because it happened a few months prior to my knowing her and she never thought to tell me about it. Knowing Ruth, I guess she would have considered that boastful. I remember a similar thing about eleven years ago. A friend of mine back home in Wales died and I was invited to officiate at his funeral. In part of the eulogy I mentioned a variety of his achievements, amongst which was the fact that he had played in a jazz band for many years. This fact, and several more, surprised many of the people present, even amongst those who knew him well. For a long time people knew him as someone who was a bit down at heel, who liked a gamble on the horses, and that was about it. Yet his past threw up all sorts of interesting facts about this quiet unassuming man.
As a minister I often am privy to information that is kept from others, especially information about health matters or family secrets. I long ago recognised that just because someone walked about with a cheerful smile it didn't mean that they had no problems in their life. Often the smile hid sadness and pains that they kept from the world as a matter of choice, preferring instead to present a cheerful front.
As I walked my dog, Sam, yesterday evening, I mused upon the great question of 'life and why we are here', although I'm not sure about my conclusions. After all, in one sense we are born, we live, we die. Most of those folk who knew us in our lifetimes soon forget for the great part that we existed beyond the occasional mention of our names. Yet every individual deserves more than that, surely.
In the song Are You Lonesome Tonight, Elvis Presley sang 'all the world's a stage and every man and woman in it merely players', and, just as with any stage, the actors and actresses who people it play a variety of parts on it. We are at various times all things to the people who are with us at the time. We are people of many parts, and it's this that sets us apart, this that creates secret lives with things known only to those who were fellow players alongside us at the time.
Is there a purpose to life? I think that we have to accept that there is, otherwise it seems so futile. What's the point of entering this world for what is, after all, a relatively brief period, if there's no purpose to it. Some will say that the purpose for each of us is to improve the lot of the next generation, but if that's the case then, by and large, we've failed miserably. Yes, I agree that there are some marvellous inventions to occupy the time that our labour-saving devices give to us, but we have crime of all sorts, drunkenness on the streets, a paucity of moral and ethical behaviour and a nation of people who have turned their backs on God.
I agree that part of our purpose is to help improve life for others, both by what we do now and what we create for the future, but the important matter for me is not simply what we do but why we do it. If we do things to make ourselves feel better, especially if we desire to make ourselves appear better than others, then it serves little real purpose in terms of value; but if we do things that are born out of a desire to serve God by serving others, then the picture changes completely.
There are many atheists who not only deny the existence of God to themselves, but also make it a lifetime ambition to try to impose their lack of belief on others. Yet having often considered and pondered upon the question of God's existence I can draw no other measured conclusion than that He exists. That being the case then I have a purpose to my life that could not be clearer, for I have a reason to serve others in His name rather than in my own.
The Westminster Confession of Faith states in part that:
We believe that the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy Him for ever.
So do I! and so I try to live up to that belief by the manner in which I conduct my life. Am I always successful? Probably not because I am, after all, merely a human being. However, when I was a child I was taught that by aiming for the moon I would at least land on a star, and so, whilst I will probably never attain the highest standards of Jesus Christ, I may nevertheless attain at least a standard that might be pleasing to God. Either way, I'm never going to give up trying!