WHAT IF?

There’s a story told about Pastor Teefer, a good Lutheran (is that redundant?), who found himself wondering whether there were any golf courses in heaven. He even began to ask the question in his prayers. One day, blessed man that he was, he received a direct answer from on high. “Yes,” said the heavenly messenger, “there are many excellent golf courses in heaven. The greens are always in first-class condition, the weather is always perfect, and you always play with the nicest people. Oh, by the way, we’ve got you down for a foursome on Saturday.”

It’s an apocryphal story, to be sure; or is it? God being God, there is always the possibility that God can and perhaps even will at times speak directly to someone who asks a direct question. What if this were a true story? What if God did speak directly to Pastor Teefer and he knew that come Saturday he would be playing golf in heaven and not getting ready to preach a sermon to his congregation the next day?

What if you or I knew the day, even the hour, when we would meet our Maker? What if that day were this coming Saturday? While the golf addicts among us might want to know if there are golf courses in heaven, (I have always envisioned heaven as something like Pebble Beach or Oakmont, two courses I have played only in my wildest and fondest dreams but will only be able to play in heaven), there is an even more immediate issue on the table.

That issue, of course, is what would I do between now and then. Are there some words I need to say to someone, something I have been putting off for all too long now that needs to be attended to and attended to immediately because the time is too short? Knowing the day and time of our death would change everything, both whether that day was this Saturday or some Saturday off in the distant future.

Or would it? Would we do anything differently if we knew that day as a certitude? Perhaps at first thought, we would respond in the affirmative; “Yes, most certainly!” If that day were in a few days, we might hasten to clear up loose ends, to call those whom we need to forgive or ask forgiveness, to call those we love for one final “I love you,” to mend a fence or two.

Or, even more, should we have to? Should we have to do anything differently? In the sacristy of my home parish there used to be a sign that read: “Celebrate this Mass as if it were your first Mass, your last Mass, your only Mass.” On a more mundane level you and I could be reminded to live this day as if it were the first day of our life, the last day of our life, the only day of our life.”

Living each day to the fullest is what we are called to do. What that means is the question. If we live each day as Jesus lived each day in love and service to one another and thus to our God, we need not be concerned about when we will meet God in eternity nor will we worry about whether there is anything for which we need to make amends or ask forgives or make known our love. We will have done so already.