And Then?
And Then?
When my sister and I were little, we would entertain our little brother Jon by telling him stories. Usually reserved for pre-nap sessions, they were mainly made-up stories about two alter-egos named "Strong-Boy Jon" and what can only be directly translated as "Leprotic Jon."* Strong-Boy Jon was a hero, while Leprotic Jon was a cowardly bum who shirked every duty and consistently lost in arm wrestles and war games to his counterpart. Sprinkled within these stories were bits and pieces of every fairy tale, Aesop's fable, and stories of tigers my mother used to tell us. Jigsawed and mangled with our memory's use and misuse of these parables, these stories ended with the same phrase: "And Strong Boy Jon lived happily ever after. The End."
Inevitably, my brother would chime in with this Korean phrase, eager to partake of the story: "And then?"
The first few times, that threw us for a loop. What do you mean, and then? That's it. But then we started to not only add tiny addendums to the story per request, but also anticipate it: "So Leprotic Jon wanted to beat Strong Boy Jon up. The End." And then? "And then Strong Boy Jon just decided to go home. The End." And then? "And then Strong Boy Jon came out with huge boxing gloves that his mom made for him and beat up Leprotic Jon. And he lived happily ever after. The End." And then? "... and then Leprotic Jon rolled down the hill and drowned in the lake." And then? "Uh... and then he became a zombie and ran after Strong Boy Jon and Strong Boy Jon beat him up again." And then? "And then nothing!" And then?! "And then Strong Boy Jon got sick and died! The End the End!" And then...?
Eventually, although my memory cannot assure this detail, he went to bed.
But what about the "and then"s of life? Does our story ever end?
The end of our mortal bodies seem unavoidable, and these past few months have carried with it too many people to whom death came prematurely. Death has shaken the campus here a few months back. Many stories continue to end, expected or otherwise. However, I suppose the worst thing about death is not just that the story ends for the deceased, but that the story keeps going for the ones who have known and loved them.
Personally, my story has been a tome full of beginnings and endings, broken up by chapters and volume numbers. There were times when I was desperate to know my "and then"'s, and times when I would wish we could say, "the end!" and get the chapter over with. And there are times when the story becomes so messed up that I wish there was a "CTRL, X" that I could tap over and over again and undo all that's been done. (Mac users, you're on your own.)
It's comforting to know that Jesus notices and has compassion.
I'm not sure why there was not a tremendous amount of additional resurrections that took place during Christ's life on earth. Maybe there was. I don't know if people brought their dead to Him. Perhaps it has something to do with the restrictions on the handling of deceased bodies. The way Jesus is, perhaps His Father put a restriction on Him so that the death rate of the Fertile Crescent didn't nose dive and result in some sort of population boom. In the same way, there's a reason why Jesus must stand aside when the time comes for His children to pass away or even endure hardship. I wonder how much grief He experiences. Our grief is mingled with helplessness, but His is mingled with empathy and restraint. As most parents like to say, "This hurts me more than it hurts you." (For some reason, I don't recall my parents saying this. Sometimes I am tempted to think that it definitely hurt me more.) He has compassion for all of us who've messed up our own stories as well.
I guess the underlying theme of all of this is one of hope. Jesus is the "and then" of the dark days of life. With Christ, and consequently, with Christians, comes hope. That's how it should be, isn't it? This is the power of the gospel. It's the continual answer to all the "and then"'s and "now what"'s of life...
And considering the realms of Heaven, I suppose the question of "and then?" is not a silly one. Because there will always be an answer. There will always be an "and then." There will always be a tomorrow, as eternity rolls. Someone once told me that as much as we humans say we can't comprehend "eternity," it is ingrained in us. Death finds us saying, "I guess I thought they'd be with us forever..." I'd venture to say that an "end" is much more difficult to understand than a world without an end. We were built for eternity. Let's pursue it together, you and I, and fill in all those "and then"'s.
“I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the ending,” says the Lord God, “who is, and who was, and who is to come, the Almighty.” Revelation 1:8
*Jon is not my brother's real name, but every other Korean boy's name is some variation of John, or starts with a "J" so it'll do. The stories were in English, except the name "Leprotic Jon" which was said in Korean. "Konglish" was the language of choice for us native first-and-a-half and second-generation Korean American New Yorkers. That is one mouthful.
_______
Jen Song is a High School teacher in Virginia.