Now What?

It’s not the way I would have wanted it, but my friend of many years was in the hospital Intensive Care Unit having suffered a serious and very unexpected heart attack. I visited when I could, but wanted to make sure his wife and family were not crowded out during visiting hours. I had known Brian since Primary School and Sunday School, and in those early years we were inseparable. As sometimes happens, life steps in and although we stayed friends, we didn’t see each other as much outside of the very occasional church service at weddings and funerals etc..

We were regular church goers, but nowadays only just. Unlike the old days when we were a fixture in serious faith and attendance. Now we were what is called ‘nominal Christians’, but the seed had been sown and we both knew “the way” to the Father’s heart. Brian was in a small room of four patients, each one in ICU and getting the best treatment, but it was evident in all the beds lay a man, suspended between life and death. Unfortunately for the other patients, and even the staff, one of the needy was an ‘aggressive atheist’ and he was very vocal about there being no God, and if He existed, He was never any good to him. He blamed everything on God from his occasional cold, to the serious circumstances which brought him to this hospital ward, and everything in between.

Brian never could suffer fools gladly, but anytime I was there, he remained very composed and quiet, and only responded quietly when a barb was directed straight at him. One night I was putting some fruit into his little bedside cabinet when I noticed a small Bible. That took me right back to the times we would talk endlessly about our faith in Jesus Christ and how much He meant to us. As I left the visit to allow Brian’s wife to spend the last part of the time with him, I could still hear the other man shouting at God, and swearing at anyone who looked like they would listen. The noise followed me down the corridor and only stopped when I got into the lift.

Maria called me early next morning with the news that her husband had passed away, quietly, peacefully, and surrounded by his wife, family and the old, now retired Pastor whom we respected and who had helped to lead us to the salvation that only God can give. Maria confided in me the last words of her husband. He had been talking and praying with the old, saintly Pastor, and Brian told him with a broad smile that he prayed for the first time in years. “I just said I’m sorry God, would you please forgive me”? While this was happening, the aggressive atheist’s life was ebbing away too. He died cursing God with his last breath. Now my question remains: “Now What?” Is the sinner’s prayer ever too late? Does this remind you of anything in another place and time?

One of the criminals hanging beside him scoffed, “So you’re the Messiah, are you? Prove it by saving yourself—and us, too, while you’re at it!” But the other criminal protested, “Don’t you fear God even when you have been sentenced to die? We deserve to die for our crimes, but this man hasn’t done anything wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom.” And Jesus replied, “I assure you, today you will be with me in paradise.” Luke23:39-43