We are confident, yes, well please rather to be absent from the body and to be present with the Lord.
II Corinthians 5:8
Immigration Status
Immigration is a hot topic in the news but the subject is as
old as humanity. As individuals, as family groups, as nations, the earth has always
been awash with moving people. When Noah came out of the ark with three sons each
took off in a different direction and eventually populated three different
areas of the earth.
History has been shaped by floods of people fleeing war or famine
or disease or oppression. The Gauls move in on Rome bringing an end to the
empire and our own country finds its roots in displaced people who pulled up
roots, tore away from all they had known and reached out for a new land. Yet,
the idea of immigration seems so earth-bound I was fascinated when I found it
among the writing of the Apostle Paul.
In January I received news that the husband of a dear friend
had been diagnosed with highly aggressive cancer and because those who cared
were widely dispersed, a web blog was set up allowing prayer partners and
family to keep touch. Jan posted regularly giving updates on Dick's battle. It
was a valiant fight but two days ago it came to an end. Because Dick and Jan
are messianic Jews, they follow many of the Jewish traditions as well as loving
the Lord Jesus. Dick died on a Sabbath wrapped in the prayer shawl he often
wore. He would have wanted it no other way.
In Jan's last post she referred to Dick being "ushered into
the presence of his God." It made me think about Paul's statement concerning
death and wanted I to study it in more deeply so, thanks to modern technology, it
was easy to run the original Greek words to their root meaning. Imagine my surprise
when in the middle of the verse, I found the word, "immigration."
We often hear II Corinthians 5:8 quoted as "Absent from the
body; present with the Lord," a short paraphrase used to give hope and comfort.
But to me the words also seemed a bit somber. "Absent" invoked feelings of
emptiness and-although I scarcely admitted it-loss. Perhaps that is why I was
so fascinated to find the word could more accurately be translated "immigrate."
We pilgrims and sojourners "immigrate" from a land scarred by war and famine
and disease and want, to a new land.
Somehow it is a comfort to think of Dick-and all the others
I have loved-as not "absent" but "immigrated." They may no longer be in this
land where I can touch them. We won't be exchanging letters any time soon. But
they have found home at last and one day, I'll pull up stakes and immigrate, too.
