No Bell for Me, Please

With the lack of sophisticated methods for determining death, there were a few instances in years gone by of people being interred before being truly dead. How could such a thing be determined if the dead people were six feet under? We can thank grave thieves for that tidbit. There were a few occasions when, upon opening a coffin to rob whatever could be profitable for them, thieves found the inside of the casket defaced by scratch marks. It was pretty obvious what had happened. The person interred had not been truly dead, woke up, and frantically tried to claw their way out of their premature entombment. Though such instances were few and far between, the general population developed a fear of being buried alive. The solution? The safety coffin.

The safety coffin contained an added feature that set it apart from other caskets—a bell with a string. The string was placed in the casket, tied to the deceased's finger, hand, or foot, and was designed to pull on a bell placed on the ground above the casket. In the unlikely event that a person found themselves to have been interred while yet alive, they could then pull on the bell and alert the outside world that the grave needed to be dug up. A designated grave watcher would monitor the grave for about 24 hours, just to make sure the dead person was really truly dead and did not need saving.

Although there are no documented cases of someone being saved from an untimely burial by the coffin bells, they helped allay fears of erroneous interment. With today's modern technology, coffin bells are definitely not needed. Advanced imaging devices that show heart activity, brain waves, and respiration leave little to chance. Nonetheless, if coffin bells were still being used today, I would definitely vote on not having one. Kind of like a DNR assignation in the hospital—a do not resuscitate written on a patient's chart.

Last week's travel for the death of a dear friend left neither time nor stamina for the writing of our weekly blog, but it did bring the thought of death to mind day and night. Our friend with whom we fellowshipped, with whom we worshipped , with whom we ate, with whom we joked, with whom we prayed—this dear friend is now in the presence of Jesus. It's nothing less than mind-boggling to think: we are here—and he is there.

Paul wrote, "We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body and to be present with the Lord" (2 Corinthians 5:8). We miss our friend, our hearts are heavy, we struggle with a tremendous sense of loss—but him? For the first time ever he is free from pain, free from worry, free from stress, free from all the burdens of this life. Yes, we miss him, but would we want him to lose all he has gained just to make us feel better?

I remember when my friend's father passed away. Her dad had grown up with my maternal grandmother, spoke Spanish well. When he died from the illness that took him home to Jesus, his grandson told his dad that he wanted to pray for his grandpa to be resurrected. They waited till all the visitors left, then knelt at the casket and prayed.

At the same time, a family friend received a vision from God. She called and told the new widow about it. In the vision, she saw our deceased friend under a tree in Heaven. Jesus walked up to him and said, "You know, they're praying for you to come back to life." Our friend blinked, thought a minute, then asked, "Do I have to go back?" Jesus answered, "That's up to you." Our friend mulled it over, then asked, "Will they be okay if I don't?" Jesus smiled and answered, "It'll be hard at first, but they'll be okay." "Well, then," our friend answered, "I'd rather stay here with You."

The lady in Houston had no inkling of what was happening 353 miles away in that funeral home. But God revealed it to her. And this "God-incidence" gave the bereaved family comfort that , even though their loved one did not return from death, all was well.

Frankly, I'm of a mind to think that, in his shoes, I would choose as did my friend's deceased father. If I was in the presence of the One Who loved me so much He gave His life for me, Who paid with His own precious blood for my redemption and deliverance, why, oh why, would I want to come back to the filthy chaos of this present world? Give me Jesus and Heaven anytime! Little wonder Paul wrote, "For I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ; which is far better: nevertheless to abide in the flesh is more needful for you" (Philippians1:23-24).

It's true that Jesus said, "I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day" (John 9:4). While we are here in this world, we follow our Master's footsteps, working for Him, doing as He did, serving. But Job said, "all the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come" (Job 9:14). And Ecclesiastes 3:1-2 says, "To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die." Unless the Rapture intervenes, each one of us has an unyielding appointment with death.

I have seen stalwart prayer warrior with miraculous healings under their belts die from a final illness. I have seen powerful saints succumb to death from what was supposed to be a trifling procedure. The fact is that there is a time for each one of us to depart from this earth. All the prayers, all the standing on God's Word, all the medical technology will be moot when that day comes. Yes, God heals. Yes, God delivers. That is part of our covenant with Him. In Romans 10:9 we are told that we are saved through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. The Greek for the word saved there infers preservation, healing, rescue from danger. In all the ways that matter, Jesus lovingly and graciously saves us. That is our heritage in Him. But to each of us there will come a day when no matter how strong we are in faith, no matter how well we know to stand on God's promises of healing, we will be torn from the bonds of this earth and we will go to our true home. We will go to be with Jesus.

That is not a failure. That is not a lack of faith. That is an elevation of the first water. It is in no way something to fear (like our Victorian predecessors who clung to that coffin bell in fear of premature death). To be with Jesus, my friends, is truly the best thing we can look forward to. So, if bells were "the thing" nowadays, I would say, "No bell for me, please!" Let me just go home to Jesus!

I remember Aunt Ethel May, hours before she went home, looking up to Heaven and telling Jesus, "Hurry, hurry, hurry!" Death is nothing for a believer to fear. It is something to look forward to. No bells of anguish, just the sincere cry of the heart, "Even so, come Lord Jesus."

"O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is the victory? ... But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ" (1 Corinthians 15:55-57).