There’s something special about our childhood home.
It’s been a few years since I slowly drove past our old family farm at 8331 English Lake Road, Manitowoc, WI. It’s been decades since I walked around the yard, inspected the barn and out-buildings, or peaked inside the old farm house, including the upstairs bedroom that was mine, way back when I was a student at Northwestern College, Watertown WI.
I haven’t been on the property or in the house since 1982, the year my Mom sold the house and farm and moved into Manitowoc.
Yet all these decades later, I think about the home where I grew up. I hold in my heart so many fond memories of that place, and a few very sad ones as well. So when I’m in the Manitowoc area again, I imagine I will drive past the property very slowly. Maybe I’ll even take the time to turn onto the gravel driveway, hop out of my car, and head up to the front door. There I will knock. And the perplexed current owner will ask, “Who are you?” “I’m Glenn Schwanke. My family and I used to live here a long time ago.” Maybe they will even invite me in and let me reminisce a bit and look around.
There is something very special about our heavenly home.
Over the years, I’ve served a number of believers on their death-bed. And I’ve heard them say, “I want to go home.” On her last full day on this earth, my wife, Terry, said it, too—over and over and over again. But neither my wife, nor any of those other believers on their death-beds were referring to their childhood homes. Instead, they were all praying for their heavenly home.
It’s often the same for you and me, isn’t it? As we get older, at times we yearn for our heavenly home far more than the home where we grew up. Why? Isn’t it because we learned about our heavenly home “from infancy”? (2 Timothy 3:15) Are our earliest memories about being wedged between parents on a church pew so we wouldn’t fidget? Or maybe we were seated in a Christian Day School where we learned to shout in our loudest voice, “God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life!” (John 3:16)
As our lives fast-forward, decade after decade, those childhood memories remain vivid, as if they happened yesterday. But our bodies tell us a different story. Bad backs, knees, worn-out hips, pacemakers, cataracts, hearing loss, chronic pain. As we slow down and wear out, our heavenly home seems all the more inviting, doesn’t it? Especially when we remember our Lord’s promise, “Look, I am making everything new!” (Revelation 21:5)
But it’s not just the aches and pains, is it? It’s the heartache we feel when we get bogged down by our daily news-feed. “Children’s hospital hit as Russian strikes kill dozens in Ukraine.” “Chicago reels from violent holiday weekend. More than 100 shot, 19 fatally.” “Unimaginable destruction after strike on Gaza camp.” Not that any of this bad news should surprise us! After all our Savior warned, “Because lawlessness will increase, the love of many will grow cold.” (Matthew 24:12)
And yet sometimes world-weariness can dog our steps, especially when we’re the ones standing next to the graveside because it’s our parent, our spouse, our sibling, or our child who is being buried. We may have those days when we confess with Paul, ““I have the desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far.” (Philippians 1:23)
But when a catastrophe suddenly snuffs out the lives of multiple family members, like the Airbnb fire in Necedah on June 30th? That tragic fire claimed the lives of WELS missionary Steve Witte, his two daughters, Charis Kuehl and Lydia Witte; and three granddaughters, Stella Kuehl, Lena Henselin and Merci Henselin. A tragedy like this can cause some angry finger-pointing at God coupled with the question, “Why?”
There is something special about coming to our church home.
It’s not for you and me to know precisely why our loving Lord allowed this tragedy to happen. As the Lord once observed through his prophet Isaiah, “Certainly my plans are not your plans, and your ways are not my ways, declares the LORD. Just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so my ways are higher than your ways, and my plans are higher than your plans.” (Isaiah 55:8-9)
But this much we can know! In the moment of their death, Steve, Charis, Lydia, Stella, Lena and Merci were whisked safely to their heavenly home, just like my wife and all those others I’ve been privileged to serve on their death beds. When a child of God closes his/her eyes in the sleep of death, they will open them again to see the Lord! (1 Thessalonians 4:13-18) And never again will they suffer. Never again will they hurt. Never again will they weep. (Revelation 21:4)
And this much we can know! Through the message of Jesus Christ, crucified and risen, the Witte, Kuehl, and Hansel families will be comforted in their church homes by the funeral services. Services like the one whose video link I’m adding at the end of this Wednesday encouragement. Services like the one that is being held at Trinity today for Margaret (Peggy) Jane Schuenemann. (This will also be live-streamed and available through Trinity’s website.) Through Bible readings, hymns, liturgy and sermon, all who attend will hear the guarantee of our Savior, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me will live, even if he dies. And whoever lives and believes in me will never perish.” (John 11:25-26)
And perhaps, perhaps, someone will attend the service or watch the live-stream who is not a believer in Jesus. Someone filled with questions, bogged down by world-weariness, and ready to explode with anger. Wouldn’t it be something if the Spirit used the Gospel proclaimed to whisper into that person’s heart and mind and create the first flickers of faith?
Privileged to Serve,
Rev. Glenn Schwanke
Witte funeral link:
https://youtube.com/live/gZpwPbeOpEE
It’s been a few years since I slowly drove past our old family farm at 8331 English Lake Road, Manitowoc, WI. It’s been decades since I walked around the yard, inspected the barn and out-buildings, or peaked inside the old farm house, including the upstairs bedroom that was mine, way back when I was a student at Northwestern College, Watertown WI.
I haven’t been on the property or in the house since 1982, the year my Mom sold the house and farm and moved into Manitowoc.
Yet all these decades later, I think about the home where I grew up. I hold in my heart so many fond memories of that place, and a few very sad ones as well. So when I’m in the Manitowoc area again, I imagine I will drive past the property very slowly. Maybe I’ll even take the time to turn onto the gravel driveway, hop out of my car, and head up to the front door. There I will knock. And the perplexed current owner will ask, “Who are you?” “I’m Glenn Schwanke. My family and I used to live here a long time ago.” Maybe they will even invite me in and let me reminisce a bit and look around.
There is something very special about our heavenly home.
Over the years, I’ve served a number of believers on their death-bed. And I’ve heard them say, “I want to go home.” On her last full day on this earth, my wife, Terry, said it, too—over and over and over again. But neither my wife, nor any of those other believers on their death-beds were referring to their childhood homes. Instead, they were all praying for their heavenly home.
It’s often the same for you and me, isn’t it? As we get older, at times we yearn for our heavenly home far more than the home where we grew up. Why? Isn’t it because we learned about our heavenly home “from infancy”? (2 Timothy 3:15) Are our earliest memories about being wedged between parents on a church pew so we wouldn’t fidget? Or maybe we were seated in a Christian Day School where we learned to shout in our loudest voice, “God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life!” (John 3:16)
As our lives fast-forward, decade after decade, those childhood memories remain vivid, as if they happened yesterday. But our bodies tell us a different story. Bad backs, knees, worn-out hips, pacemakers, cataracts, hearing loss, chronic pain. As we slow down and wear out, our heavenly home seems all the more inviting, doesn’t it? Especially when we remember our Lord’s promise, “Look, I am making everything new!” (Revelation 21:5)
But it’s not just the aches and pains, is it? It’s the heartache we feel when we get bogged down by our daily news-feed. “Children’s hospital hit as Russian strikes kill dozens in Ukraine.” “Chicago reels from violent holiday weekend. More than 100 shot, 19 fatally.” “Unimaginable destruction after strike on Gaza camp.” Not that any of this bad news should surprise us! After all our Savior warned, “Because lawlessness will increase, the love of many will grow cold.” (Matthew 24:12)
And yet sometimes world-weariness can dog our steps, especially when we’re the ones standing next to the graveside because it’s our parent, our spouse, our sibling, or our child who is being buried. We may have those days when we confess with Paul, ““I have the desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far.” (Philippians 1:23)
But when a catastrophe suddenly snuffs out the lives of multiple family members, like the Airbnb fire in Necedah on June 30th? That tragic fire claimed the lives of WELS missionary Steve Witte, his two daughters, Charis Kuehl and Lydia Witte; and three granddaughters, Stella Kuehl, Lena Henselin and Merci Henselin. A tragedy like this can cause some angry finger-pointing at God coupled with the question, “Why?”
There is something special about coming to our church home.
It’s not for you and me to know precisely why our loving Lord allowed this tragedy to happen. As the Lord once observed through his prophet Isaiah, “Certainly my plans are not your plans, and your ways are not my ways, declares the LORD. Just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so my ways are higher than your ways, and my plans are higher than your plans.” (Isaiah 55:8-9)
But this much we can know! In the moment of their death, Steve, Charis, Lydia, Stella, Lena and Merci were whisked safely to their heavenly home, just like my wife and all those others I’ve been privileged to serve on their death beds. When a child of God closes his/her eyes in the sleep of death, they will open them again to see the Lord! (1 Thessalonians 4:13-18) And never again will they suffer. Never again will they hurt. Never again will they weep. (Revelation 21:4)
And this much we can know! Through the message of Jesus Christ, crucified and risen, the Witte, Kuehl, and Hansel families will be comforted in their church homes by the funeral services. Services like the one whose video link I’m adding at the end of this Wednesday encouragement. Services like the one that is being held at Trinity today for Margaret (Peggy) Jane Schuenemann. (This will also be live-streamed and available through Trinity’s website.) Through Bible readings, hymns, liturgy and sermon, all who attend will hear the guarantee of our Savior, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me will live, even if he dies. And whoever lives and believes in me will never perish.” (John 11:25-26)
And perhaps, perhaps, someone will attend the service or watch the live-stream who is not a believer in Jesus. Someone filled with questions, bogged down by world-weariness, and ready to explode with anger. Wouldn’t it be something if the Spirit used the Gospel proclaimed to whisper into that person’s heart and mind and create the first flickers of faith?
Privileged to Serve,
Rev. Glenn Schwanke
Witte funeral link:
https://youtube.com/live/gZpwPbeOpEE
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