Nine years ago today my father passed away. While I have many memories of his life, I will always hold the memory of his passing as a very sacred time. It was an early Saturday morning. My sister Karen urged me to wake up and come to my father's bed. My mother, my sisters, and I all stood around his bed and watched him take his last breath. I gently placed my hand on his leg and could feel his pulse. I kept my hand there until slowly the pulse was gone. My mother's first words were, "Praise God from Whom all blessings flow!"
I'm certain each of us had our own thoughts as we stood there, silently, gazing at my father and trying to take in all that had just taken place. Different people, different thoughts, but I think all of us would say that there was something very sacred about that moment.
Dad had been sick. He knew his death was imminent. He had shared with us what he wanted included in his "Celebration Service" and how the obituary should be worded. He was adamant about one word. He didn't want his obituary to say that he "flew to the arms of his Savior"; he found that idea of "flying" to be rather repugnant. He wanted to use the word "translated". He wanted people to know that he didn't cease existing; rather, he was "translated" into Glory.
Translated...not a word we use very often when referring to death. But it really is a most beautiful and exquisite way to view the passing from this life to the next. The dictionary states that "translated" is the process or result of changing from one appearance, state, or phase to another.
By insisting on using this one little word, he made it very clear that in no way was he ceasing to exist but just moving on to his "next state"...a much more glorious state!
Very few people are familiar with the following song...probably only people that grew up in the Christian Reformed church. And there in the poem is that word again...translated! And because of Jesus death and resurrection, I know that someday, I, too, will be translated and will join my father in praise and worship and adoration of the One that gave His life for me.
“Before the throne there was a sea of glass like unto crystal.” Revelation 4:6
By the sea of crystal, saints in glory stand,
Myriads in number, drawn from every land,
Robed in white apparel, washed in Jesus’ blood,
They now reign in heaven with the Lamb of God.
Out of tribulation, death and Satan’s hand,
They have been translated at the Lord’s command.
In their hands they’re holding palms of victory;
Hark! the jubilant chorus shouts triumphantly:
Unto God, Almighty, sitting on the throne,
And the Lamb, victorious, be the praise alone,
God has wrought salvation, He did wondrous things,
Who shall not extol Thee, holy King of Kings?
