Trembling before God

Last night I went to the memorial service of a 22-year-old son of the church who died of an accidental drug overdose. It cleared our spiritual sinuses like nothing else. The luxury of philosophy gave way to great fear of the Lord, like in the hours just following the unceremonious deaths of Ananias and Sapphira (Acts 5:11). The weekly Sunday school questions, over doughnuts and coffee, parsing confessional statements and debating whether we are meant to obey the commandments of God or whether they are merely convictors of sin became embarrassing folderol.

Every man was ashamed of his self-justifications. Every person who has been "wrestling"-for decades-with his sins of pornography or gossip or backsliding was sobered right up. Every overworked PowerPoint, six-week series presentation was blown away like a gnat in a furnace: Words, words, words. All that remained last night was the pure, unalloyed trembling before God.

We all sat there thinking of our own children and were terrified. We felt like David when Uzzah was struck dead in the ark incident (2 Samuel 6:5-9). "And David and all the house of Israel were celebrating before the LORD, with songs and lyres and harps and tambourines and castanets and cymbals." Then poor Uzzah put out his hand, instinctively, I guess, to steady the ark because the oxen stumbled. And he was no more.

"And David was angry because the LORD had broken out against Uzzah. … And David was afraid of the LORD that day. …"

We were afraid too. Afraid enough that-at least for the moment, for one evening-every man put away his coddling of pet sins, those sins we confess Saturday after Saturday at prayer meeting and get no traction on. All those who flirt with other men's wives were not flirting last night. Instead it was like the time just after the paroxysms in Corinth over the brother who was having his father's wife (1 Corinthians 5:1):

"For see what earnestness this godly grief has produced in you, but also what eagerness to clear yourselves, what indignation, what fear, what longing, what zeal, what punishment! …" (2 Corinthians 7:11)

At least I think that's what happened at the memorial service last night. At least it's what happened to me.