What Bill Cutrer Believed about Heaven

After a long day during a 1995 Mexico ministry trip, Bill fell asleep on top of a pick-up cab. In Lethal Harvest, he  compared dying to going to sleep after a long, tiring day.

In addition to being a seminary professor and medical doctor, Bill Cutrer was a novelist. In this excerpt from our first of three coauthored works of medical suspense, Lethal Harvest (Kregel)— a finalist in the suspense category for Christian fiction's highest award—Dr. Bill provides his view of the afterlife. He does so through the character of Ben, a medical-doctor-turned-chaplain, who delivers a funeral message for a colleague. 

Ben began again, slowly opening hisBible. “Dear family and friends, you have come today out of respect for thelife of this man and love for one another. You look for answers, a sure word,something you can trust. We can find that certainty, the true comfort thatreaches to the soul, only in God's word. Life and death, joy and mourning areso familiar to us. Yet in such moments our footing seems unsure. We can'tunderstand.”

           

Marniefelt for a moment as though she were someone else, observing it all but notbelieving it was her own reality. She brought herself back by hugging Emily toher side. Emily, who had spent her Sunday mornings watching cartoons, had neverbeen part of anything like this. She sat politely in her new navy blue dresswith a full petticoat, her feet sticking out several inches beyond the edge ofthe pew. At the moment, the red-pencil picture she drew on her program consumedher attention.

“InEcclesiastes 7:2,” Ben continued, “Solomon, the wisest of all men, wrote, 'It isbetter to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, fordeath is the destiny of everyone; the living should take this to heart. Sorrowis better than laughter because a sad face is good for the heart. The heart ofthe wise is in the house of the mourning, but the heart of fools is in thehouse of pleasure.'”

Bencontinued. “How can Solomon say it's better to go to a house of mourning? Whatcan we learn in the midst of such pain? The anguish, the tears of a wife wholost her husband, a mother who lost her son, a sweet child who lost her daddy?How is a sad face good for the heart? How does this wisdom come? Where do wefind anything positive in such tragedy?”                           

Marnielooked up at the stained glass windows, self‑conscious at this pointthat Ben's words had directed the crowd's thoughts to her and wanting tostifle a sob when Ben said the word “daddy.”  

“Whenthe Bible speaks of passing from this life into eternity, we see severalbeautiful word pictures,” Ben explained. “Death is likened to threethings—striking the tent to prepare for a journey, going to sleep, and goinghome.

“Now,most of us have a great sense of joy as we prepare to go on a journey,especially if we look forward to our destination as a beautiful, safe place.”

Marnie'sthoughts drifted back momentarily to the time in Hawaii she and Tim had spentlast Christmas. Lately she'd kept remembering not the big events they'd shared,but the little details about Tim. Like on that trip how they'd been so amusedto have rented a red convertible to buzz around on Maui only to notice that allthe other tourists had done the same. They'd seen as many red convertiblesthere as yellow cabs in New York.

“Heavenis such a place. In beauty beyond our imagination, heaven is a place wherethere is no death, no tears, no need ever to mourn again,” Ben continued.

Marniehoped such a place really existed and wondered whether Tim had made such ajourney. She looked admiringly at Ben, feeling compassion pouring over thecrowd in his voice. Standing behind the podium, he looked strong, exudingconfidence. He really believes what he's saying. She realized she wassurprised. She had never heard someone as educated as a physician say anythinglike this, and she found comfort in his words. She hoped they were true.Emily's fidgeting in her seat brought Marnie back. Having covered the programwith scribbles, Emily began looking for a new project. Her mother reached inher purse and pulled out a note pad.

“. . . and going to sleep at the end of a long, tiring day,” Ben said. “Nothingsounds better. Dying for the child of God has been described—accurately, Ithink—as being like when a child falls asleep in front of the television. Sheawakens the next morning in her own bed, not knowing how she got there, butrested, refreshed and at home. Now, we know that her mother or father hadgently picked her up and carried her to her bed, pulling the covers over herand tucking her in securely. So it is when one of God's children passes fromthis life to awaken in the next. We can trust in the tender care of ourheavenly Father to transport us safely there, home with the Father in heaven.”

Marniedabbed her eye as she remembered the last time she had seen Tim carry aslumbering Emily to bed and planted a kiss on her forehead.

 “Perhaps the most familiar and beautifulpicture of this life's end is that of going home. Is there any sweeter phrasein all of language? Going home. Ideally home is a place where love and securityabound and surround each family member."

Home.What am I gonna do about the house? Huge payments. Insurance. Stocks. Bonds.Investments. Marniefelt her anxiety building again momentarily. Tim handled all that on hiscomputer, and I don't even know his password. Emily slid out of her seat tostand on the floor. Marnie gently patted the pew and shot her a stern look.

“Finally,Jesus said, 'In My Father's house are many dwelling places. If it were not so,I would have told you,'“ Ben continued. “Some translate this as 'mansions.' Butwhatever the heavenly abode looks like, we will find it perfect for us.” Bencontinued reading. “'I go to prepare a place for you, and if I go to prepare aplace for you, I will come again and receive you unto myself, so that where Iam you may be also.' We have it on the authority of Jesus, the Son of God, thatGod has a place prepared, and safe passage promised for those who have trustedin Him, in Jesus, the Lord and keeper of our souls.

           

“Whydoes Solomon say to find wisdom in the house of the mourning? Because in thesad times, the hard times, we look into the faces of those we love who havelost loved ones. In those times, we remember and we consider our ownfrailty—our own mortality. The passing of Tim Sullivan reminds us that thislife is a vapor. It's here and so quickly gone. Are we prepared for thatjourney? Are we certain of our heavenly home? You can be certain, secure thatwhen the time comes for you to strike the tent, to slip into sleep, that youare going home to the promised, prepared place in the Father's house.”

Read what he said about finding God in the darkness.
Read what he said about mourning, loss, and the human response to crisis. 
Follow this link to the SBTS audio resources featuring Dr. Bill. His talk on grief is particularly timely, as is his message on Psalm 121.
Follow this link to hear him speak on Philippians 4 (scroll to 2/17). 

          

Hear Me on KCBI: Infertility, Pregnancy Loss, and Adoption

Tune in to KCBI 90.9 FM tonight at 6:30 or 10:30 PM Central for a continuation of last week's conversation lwith Dr. David Henderson about infertility,  pregnancy loss, and adoption. 

You can also listen to the broadcasts about a week after they air by going to the Criswell website at www.forchristandculture.com . Click on the “on air” tab and scroll down to the date of the programs, May 23 and 30 .

Incredibly Close and Extremely Precious

I returned last night from a quick trip to Oregon. Two weeks ago my mother fell and broke her clavicle and some ribs (like daughter, like mother?). But she also had a head injury that scared the bajeebers out of us. I arrived in Woodburn, Oregon, onWednesday, spent Thursday going to three therapy sessions with her, and on Friday was able to be with Dad when we brought her home. Meanwhile my dad’s on at least a one-month break from radiation treatments. How I needed to hug their necks!I’m one of those blessed people with loving, supportive parents.  And let me tell ya, there’s nothing like hearing your father pray for his beloved of sixty years (they’re less than two months from celebrating their sixtieth). Watching her, with one side out of commission, rubbing moisturizer on his radiation burn—I’ve just witnessed much stronger love than the Hollywood glamour version.The weather was fantastic, offering fab views of Mts. Hood, Jefferson, and St. Helens. One 31-degree morning as I drove to the rehab center in Mt. Angel, the sun rose and turned frost to droplets. So the sun glistened on dew-filled fields full of tulip shoots in the foreground, against a snow-covered backdrop of hills and a mountain or two.On Friday afternoon, I drove with Dad to retrieve Mom’s wallet from the hospital where I was born and where he receives his radiation treatments. From there we swung by nearby Keizer, the town where my parents raised their five kids till I was ten. We found our old house. It used to sit on five acres overlooking the Willamette River. Now it sits back from the road in a cul-de-sac. Our orchards, lawn, and view have morphed into a residential neighborhood with a string of houses backing up to the waterfront and blocking any view of the river. Some things change; some things remain the same.That night my nephew, Jonathan, starred in Vancouver, Washington, as Aslan in a production of “Narnia.” That quiet nephew whom few of us realized could sing stood up on the stage and belted out songs in perfect pitch. Those who know he lost his dadtwo-and-a-half years ago in a collision with a texting driver especially appreciated that in the Playbill he gave thanks for the support of his family, his friends, and his heavenly Father.Because I booked such a last-minute flight, I had one-stop flights—going through San Francisco on the outbound and through Denver on the return trip. That means I spent all day on either end getting to and from my destinations. So I did a lot of reading.In April, I plan to attend the Calvin Festival of Faith and Writing, where one of the scheduled keynoters is Jonathan Safran Foer. So I read his book, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.In this novel the main POV character is nine-year-old Oskar Schell, an unusual boy who lives in a Manhattan flat with his mom. Together they mourn in their own ways the loss of Oskar’s father, who was in a meeting in one of the World Trade Towers on 9/11/2001, when an airplane flew into it.A year after his father’s death, Oskar discovers a vase in his father’s closet that contains a key. The key is tucked inside an envelope that has only one thing written on it: “Black.” So Oskar sets out to meet everyone with the surname “Black” living in New York and also to try every lock in the city. He thinks doing so will lead him to find an important final message from his father. It certainly leads him to have some interesting experiences and conversations.Throughout the book Foer uses photos as a literary technique to connect some of his themes. He also uses Oskar’s grandparents as additional POV characters, taking readers back through different timelines set during WWII, the most vivid of which are the fire-bombing of Dresden and the dropping of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima. These cities were obliterated by the alliedforces and United States, respectively. The firebombs killed about 30,000 in Dresden; the atom bomb killed about 90,000 in Hiroshima. In setting these within a story about a 9/11-associated loss, the author makes a statement without making a statement.Knowing what happened in these cities gave me an advantage as I read. Many in my generation and later are unaware especially of what happened in Dresden. But I had received an introduction to those events somewhat by accident. As part of my PhD research into classic literature, I listened to a Mars Hill Audio recording in which the interviewer mentioned that Kurt Vonnegut survived the bombing of Dresden—being there as a POW—and it left an indelible mark on his work. Maybe the interviewer also noted, or at least I certainly made the connection, that Vonnegut’s experience paralleled that of another great literary mind, T. S. Eliot, who served as a fire warden during the blitz in WWI.Foer’s photographic elements in the narrative, his partially non-linear chronology, and his different POV characters make Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close an unusual work. It’s like a modern version of a Modern novel.The book provides readers with an up-close view of some dynamics at work when we lose something and must come to terms with that loss. I found a lot of overlap with my own feelings. But maybe everyone would. Are we actually ever, in this life, not mourning something?