“I don’t know how you do it.  Isn’t it depressing?  That job takes a special type of person.  I could never do that.”  This is a small sampling of responses when I say I am a Hospice Chaplain.  Each statement has merit.  Walking with others into and through the Valley of the Shadow of Death is weighty.  All healthcare providers, whether nurses, CNAs, social workers, or chaplains are wired to be fixers.   But none of us has what it takes to ‘fix’ death.   And we all carry the grief of the grieving people we care for and about.

But walking in the Valley of the Shadow is as much a part of life as being born, entering adulthood, pursing vocation, getting married and starting a family.   Dying has physical, emotional, and spiritual complexities; pain, comfort, joy, sorrow, regret, thanks, repentance, forgiveness, restoration, and generational blessing.   Dying is sometimes a season of stories never heard, of words never voiced, of torches being passed, of children taking their place as patriarchs and matriarchs.   And yes, dying is sometimes the season of heartbreak, bitterness, hardened hearts and deep family division.   And all these things need a pastor.

As a Hospice Chaplain I have an opportunity to emulate the Good Shepherd, who draws close and draws comfort for sheep passing through the Valley of Deepest Darkness, sometimes with a rod and sometimes with a staff.   I am called to point the dying and their loved ones to Christ of whom it was written.

Because of the tender mercy of our God,
    … the sunrise shall visit us from on high
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
    to guide our feet into the way of peace.

Luke 1:78-79

In my visits with those sitting in darkness and in the shadow of death, I have the remarkable privilege of hearing lost tales.  Tales of wars long since fought, of hard living in the ‘hills and hollers,’ of recipes for squirrel dumplings and the proper way to prepare poke salad. And, yes, of spiritual struggles, of growing and tested faith, of ancient griefs, and of struggles to extend and find forgiveness.  In the Valley of the Shadow, prayers are never mere formalism, and the gravity of every well-known scripture is increased tenfold.  Often, I am asked, “how can I know I have done enough? How can I know I am right with God?  I have done so many things wrong and I need to make peace with God, to get right with Him.”

And in that moment the beauty of the gospel shines forth.   The glorious truths of God’s grace, steadfast love, and mercy toward us in Christ replace all other stories.  And in God’s kindness, often become the newest story in a life full of old stories.   All of us ask these same questions. But the pressing logistics of life often crowd them out of our thoughts.   It is easy to push them to the back burner.  But in the Valley of the Shadow there is no back burner.   In the Valley we feel the weight of the words of the Psalmist, “For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me.” 

The word ‘sin’ is rare in the Book of Exodus.   The law unfolds a picture of righteousness, but we hear little of sin until we get to the Golden Calf.   Then we find this word ten times in a single chapter.   And just as many times the people are described as ‘stiff-necked.’  How can such a people ever get right with God?  The Lord even says to Moses, “Say to the people of Israel, ‘You are a stiff-necked people; if for a single moment I should go up among you, I would consume you.’” 

Getting right with God is no easy thing.  No works of our hands can effect it. Our best offerings, unaided by the Spirit, are but ‘filthy rags.’  Neither works, nor regrets, nor shame, nor tears are sufficient.  Only God’s grace is sufficient.  Only the kindness of God to provide a mediator sufficient to bear the weight of our judgement in our nature while incurring no judgement himself through perfect active obedience will do.   The sin of the Golden Calf seems almost irrecoverable.   Perhaps Moses thought it so when he smashed the tablets.   Yet God was not finished.  His steadfast love endures forever.

In his kindness, He leads the people to repentance.  Not a penance of works, or pilgrimages, or bloody rituals.   But an evangelical repentance that begins and continues with God’s grace. The Westminster Shorter Catechism puts it this way. 

Repentance unto life is a saving grace, whereby a sinner out of a true sense of his sin, and apprehension of the mercy of God in Christ, doth, with grief and hatred of his sin, turn from it unto God, with full purpose of, and endeavor after, new obedience.

Westminster Shorter Catechism, Question 87

Have you gotten right with God?  Are you trusting in your own incomplete, insufficient works? Your tears?  Your efforts?  Or in Christ’s finished and sufficient work?  There was nothing the people in the wilderness could do to undo what they had done.   Getting right with God had to begin with God’s kindness and mercy.  Only then could they move forward with Him.   What about you?  Have you gotten right with God? 

Join us as we examine the people’s response to God’s judgement in Exodus 33 and consider what it means to get right with God. We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube.