This week I heard a sure sign of spring. The spring peepers are back. You don’t realize how loud they are until they have been gone for a few months and then, Monday night they’re back.
To say they’re back implies that they left however which is not true. They bury themselves in the mud in the Fall and their hearts slow to almost nothing. They spend the winter frozen just about stiff. If you found one you would give it up for dead.
But when the warm rains come they thaw out and return from death to life. Hundreds of little resurrections right across the street from the building.
One thing frogs have going for them is the certainty they have of death, or at least a very deep sleep this fall. There is no one who will stand up and say that there won’t be another winter this year. You could even look at statistics and estimate how long the frogs have before they take their dirt nap.
Perhaps we should too. Not to be too morbid but our winter is just as certain. We will take a dirt nap someday at some point. The Death Clock is a funny little website that can help remind you of that fact. It gives you a chance to type in some basic statistics about yourself and then, using insurance tables or something predicts (statistically) when you are likely to die. They give me until May 7 2045. Not quite 74; Hmm. I guess I can stick it out that long. Paul gives us a greater perspective:
But let me tell you something wonderful, a mystery I’ll probably never fully understand. We’re not all going to die—but we are all going to be changed. You hear a blast to end all blasts from a trumpet, and in the time that you look up and blink your eyes—it’s over. On signal from that trumpet from heaven, the dead will be up and out of their graves, beyond the reach of death, never to die again. At the same moment and in the same way, we’ll all be changed. In the resurrection scheme of things, this has to happen: everything perishable taken off the shelves and replaced by the imperishable, this mortal replaced by the immortal. Then the saying will come true:
Death swallowed by triumphant Life!
Who got the last word, oh, Death?
Oh, Death, who’s afraid of you now?
It was sin that made death so frightening and law-code guilt that gave sin its leverage, its destructive power. But now in a single victorious stroke of Life, all three—sin, guilt, death—are gone, the gift of our Master, Jesus Christ. Thank God!
1 Cor. 15: 51 – 57 (The Message)