Ichabod

My brother-in-law died of leukemia last Friday.  He was a generous and fun guy and we will miss him.  He was also a believer in Jesus Christ so we know that the separation is only temporary. We will see him again in Heaven.

I recently started a fiction book by Randy Alcorn called Deadline.  The beginning chapters talk about the death of a friend.  The topic and the timing of my reading it seems to be more than coincidence.  I want to share a somewhat lengthy portion with you that struck me as interesting and pertinent to my recent experience.

"May I ask you something, old man?"  Jake would normally consider "old man" offensive, but he sensed this one would receive it as a compliment.  

"Certainly, my son."  

"One of my best friends died this morning, I was with him."  

"That is a great privilege.  You are very fortunate."  

"I don't feel very fortunate right now."  

"Nonetheless, you are.  Death is life's defining moment.  It is the point where the final touch is put on each person's life's portrait.  The masterpiece is signed and the paint dries, never to be changed again.  It is finished."

Jake stared at the man.  He must be a rabbi or something.  "I guess what I've been thinking about is this strange sensation I had right when he died.  It was as if he...just left the room."  "He did."  

"Well, I mean, I could almost feel it happening.  It seemed like one moment he was there, but then suddenly his body was, well, just a body, nothing more."

The man nodded politely and waited, as if Jake had merely stated the obvious, and must now be leading up to some worthy observation.  When none came, finally the bearded one said, "I understand.  I have been present at many deaths."  

"You've had the same sensation then?  Can you explain it to me?"  

The man paused a moment as if looking for just the right word.  Finally, he seemed to find it.  "Ichabod."

Jake waited, but no explanation followed.  Other than a character in Hawthorne's Headless Horseman, he'd never heard of Ichabod.  "Ichabod?"  

"Yes.  Do you remember Ezekiel?"

Jake nodded, faking it, since he had no idea...

"The shekinah glory of God dwelt in the temple.  Ezekiel watched it depart.  When it was gone, the temple was called 'Ichabod.'  In the holy language it means 'the glory has departed.'  Once the Spirit of God left, the temple was empty, an abandoned shell.  Your friend's body is empty, abandoned.  And so shall it remain until one day it is raised again to serve your friend and his master much better than before.  The body that remains is not your friend.  Ichabod--the glory has departed." (Deadline, Randy Alcorn, pp. 55-56)

I was there the moment Jerry departed his body and went into the presence of the Lord.  As strange as it may sound, I do consider it a privilege.  To see a loved one leave this world and know that he is now more alive than he has ever been is a wonder.  Yes there is sorrow, but there is also hope and joy in the promises of God.