Never Alone

“I would never kill myself; but I just wish I was dead.”

The words popped into my head without prompting. It was a dark, chilly, rainy late afternoon in October 2004. I was approaching my bus stop after a damp, sloppy three-block walk from my office in the communication school at the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill. I was a 48-year-old graduate student, older than many of my professors, just a couple of months into a three-year fellowship, all alone in a new city when my life crashed around me. I was barely functional, numb from the medication that was necessary to survive each day. My only desire was darkness – permanent darkness.

The instant after those horrible words shot through my consciousness, my phone rang.

“Hey man, I was thinking of you wondering how you’re doing!”

The bright voice on the other end of the phone was John Thomas, my dear friend from the St. Joseph’s Church choir from back home in Jacksonville, Fla. Understanding there are no coincidences, I immediately recognized the call was a lifeline from God, the first of many during this dark period.

John became, in a sense, my Moses and Elijah. God sent John to me in much the same way, I believe, that he sent Moses and Elijah to Jesus during the Transfiguration. Matthew, Mark and Luke give an excellent account of what happened during that supernatural encounter. But only Luke hints at why they appeared or what they said. Luke writes they “spoke of his exodus that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem.”

What??

Would God, the Loving Father, really send these two pillars of heaven to remind his Son – as if Jesus really needed reminding – that he would be betrayed, tortured and crucified in a matter of months? Sorry, I’m not buying it. Maybe a look at the timeline of Jesus’ earthly ministry may give us a different look.

After a couple of years of preaching and teaching, healing and exorcisms, it’s well within reason to believe Jesus was feeling the pressure of failure. He knew time was running out. His true message just wasn’t getting through. He amassed thousands of followers who wouldn’t leave Him alone, not because they understood His message about the Kingdom of God but because they wanted more loaves and fishes, and hoped for liberation from Rome. He was even vexed by His own apostles, asking them in frustration, “Do you still not understand?”

Not only that, the religious and political establishments were coalescing in deadly opposition. To them, He had grown from a minor irritant to a legitimate threat to the political, social, and economic structure they ruled. It was only a matter of time before they put an end to it – and Him. Jesus knew that even before they did. He had known it most of His life. But having to endure it was just so difficult!

At this point in his ministry, how could Jesus’ human nature not be disheartened and dispirited? It’s not ridiculous to think that, in this most critical endeavor in the history of the cosmic universe, Jesus, the human being, felt He was failing. 

God, the Loving Father, knew that Jesus, the human Son, needed a heavenly boost. Moses and Elijah likely reminded Jesus that He could – would – persevere, accomplish His mission and reconcile all humanity to the Father. That the entire realm of heaven would explode in glory when He finally defeated death. That His death and resurrection would secure the Kingdom of God for all eternity. Just hold on a little longer.

God even added a cherry on top for Jesus, audibly saying, “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.” (Mark 9:7)

A Loving Father comforts His suffering children. All of his children. Yes, including us. Sometimes He whispers to our hearts. Sometimes he sends surrogates. Like Moses. Or Elijah. Or a John Thomas. But He sends comfort. Just ask.

Because, with God, we are never alone.