Garth George: Reflections on living each day as if it was your last

Inadvertently and unavoidably the other morning I was caught up in a discussion on the second coming of Christ. I tend to avoid all such discussions among Christians, except those that are light-hearted.

I figure that if I'm puzzling over some prophetic passage of scripture and wondering what might happen, then I'm running the risk of falling down on the job I'm supposed to be doing today.

I know there are thousands of people - not all of them theologians - who spend inordinate amounts of time and write millions of words trying to convince themselves and others that they have figured out what God has up his sleeve.

Many of them these days focus on events in the Middle East and, often drawing the longest of bows, do their damnedest to prove that those events indicate that the end is nigh.

As well they might. But who cares? My job as a Christian is to do everything I'm able one day at a time to ensure that, when the time comes, I have done to the best of my ability those things which have been given me to do.

So it is with the second coming of Christ. I have taken it for granted since my youth that Christ will indeed come again. If the Bible says so, then it has to be the gospel truth, if you'll pardon the pun.

And I must admit to the sneaking hope that he doesn't come back in my lifetime because I'm quite happy here, thank you, breaking in a new home and enjoying a new job. I have a wonderful family, an engaging little dog, a beautiful cat and a few good friends.

(Incidentally, that little dog, a cavalier king charles spaniel not quite a year old, treated with total indifference the loud and continuous bangs which punctuated several evenings in our neighbourhood last week. I can only surmise that there is gun-dog somewhere in his genes.) I enjoy life and want to continue to enjoy it.

As I'm prone to say from time to time: "I wouldn't be dead for quids." And I grieve for those, often fine, people, who are taken, as we say, "before their time", not the least of whom was Rod Donald.

But nevertheless if the Lord decides to take me home, or to come again in all his glory to establish his kingdom on Earth, then that's fine by me because I know that what I have here will in no way compare with what I'll have there - a place called heaven which Jesus referred to as "paradise".

The second coming discussion to which I referred came about when one of my colleagues read a couple of verses penned by the Apostle Paul in his first letter to the new church at Thessalonica: "For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of an archangel, and with the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first.

"Then we who are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And thus we shall always be with the Lord."

Now I have no doubt that one day that will happen. The Bible says so. And there the matter might have rested had someone not wondered aloud about how it might come about.

Which, of course, led to all sorts of intriguing thoughts, including that there is much to be said for going flying without having to stand in queues to check in and to go through all the security rigmarole which makes air travel these days such a pain.

It reminded me, too, of a passing remark by a veteran preacher years ago that if Christ happened to return to claim his own on a Sunday morning, an awful lot of churchgoers would find themselves still in their pews - and in their pulpits.

The sudden departure of thousands of Christians would certainly alleviate Auckland's chronic traffic problems, but what would happen to all the cars parked in church parking lots and out in the street? And what about all the Sunday roasts left simmering in the oven?

Those of us who don't always go to church might find ourselves swept off the beach or out of the bedroom or bathroom or garden, quite inappropriately dressed for what is sure to be a signal occasion. Then there would be aeroplanes without pilots, buses, trains and cars without drivers ... There would be husbands left without wives and wives without husbands, children without parents and parents without children; businesses and services - including hospitals, police and fire - would find themselves without some of their best workers; and even Parliament would be short a few MPs.

Pensions and other benefits would go unclaimed and millions upon millions of dollars would be left in bank accounts. Empty houses, businesses with no staff, schools missing teachers and pupils ... I could go on but I won't because the moral of this story is that most of what is today called "prophesy" in the churches and "research" outside the churches, is nonsense, much like a lot of this column is nonsense.

The lesson is that it behoves every one of us to live every day as if it is our last and to not allow what happened yesterday or what might happen tomorrow to spoil today.

Our job is to do what we can today to ensure that as many of our friends, acquaintances and workmates as possible join us with the Lord in the sky.

It could be tomorrow.