The large lounge is alive with people, mostly business types. They are bound for many destinations. Over there, a couple of men earnestly talk about a task they face in Hong Kong. Others are headed for Amsterdam, San Francisco, Tokyo. My destination: Frankfort. Days of intensive business meetings lie ahead.
At a nearby table, a group of men, speaking a language I do not understand, are studying and exchanging sheaves of papers that look like contracts. Their lively discussion is serious, intense. But there is little joy in evidence. Everybody looks so serious! The business world, lived for itself, is a cheerless place.
I swivel my chair to turn my back on the whole scene and gaze out the window. There, a few miles away is the skyline of Vancouver and beyond, the jagged peaks of Canada’s coastal range. Out there is a home filled with the people I love, and it was only an hour ago we said “good-bye.” The words of one of them are not easy to forget: “I’m fed up with the whole scene–business, money, politics! Unrest is everywhere you look. Nobody is thankful. Nobody is content. Nobody has confidence.”
Yes, the world is restless. Governments totter. Families dissolve, diseases rage incurable, suicides are at an all-time high. There seems to be a pall of gloom over mankind. Something, someone is needed (they think) to put things right! The end of the cold war, and the interruption of the arms race have not put the world aright. All is not well with mankind.
Then comes the announcement: “Lufthansa Flight 493 is now ready for boarding, Gate 24. Departure in 40 minutes.” It’s time to go. No more thinking. No more hesitating. Time for the departure lounge.
But another departure looms, any moment now. Totally unannounced. No time for good-byes. No time to reminisce. Too late to think on the might-have-beens of life. Too late to tend to the undone things of our passage. The Voice! The Shout! The Trumpet!
Glory for eternity. Bodies changed. Values put right. Priorities corrected–including those that should have been righted long ago.
Why do I do what I do? Is it just for self? If so, it’s a write-off; all wasted. Perhaps, hopefully, some is for others. Love of family, responsibility to friends and to country motivates us. These are noble instincts and necessary. But is there anything for Christ in it all? What sacrifice, what effort, what loss is just for Him? Which claims of the One Who died for us do we allow to mold our earthly way? How often do we stop and listen to the still small, but persistent, voice that says: “I gave My life for thee; what hast thou done for Me?” Yes, daily, in everything we do, we should be asking ourselves: Why? For whom? What is my motive?
The departure lounge is packed with the hundreds of souls who will soon fill the 747 waiting at the end of the passageway. Here they are; all races, varied cultures. Young and old. Some look eager; some merely appear to be resigned. Who are these people with whom I will travel today? A 9-hour flight lies ahead and during those hours, our destiny seems sealed as we sit within that great flying container. Among us there is only one thing in common–our destination. But our names, our hopes, our fears, our purposes are hidden behind the masks of silent faces. Perhaps some are departing in joy, some in sorrow; some for gain, others for loss. But we are all going. We wouldn’t be in the departure lounge otherwise.
And so it is around the world. We are all on a journey. Everyone is in the great departure lounge–some happy, if in Christ, some in fear, without hope and without God in this world. Even for those on the way to heaven, in view of the Judgment Seat, for some, the journey is profitable; for others, it could be lost. What will we hear from the One Who gave us our talents?
And what of our fellow passengers who live and then depart without Christ? Eternal woe! The endless agony of the second death. The awful sentence: “Depart from Me.” There is no parole; no second chance. The Christ rejectors’ plunge to endless horror knows no parallel. Blackness, doom, haunting memories, remorse, want, loneliness, eternal unrelenting death.
I pause to grab a newspaper, something to read on the plane. But a glance at the headlines is enough to chill the appetite for reading! A report says the world economy looks like it did just before the crash of ’29. No wonder businessmen here look so glum (I hope I don’t!). There is news of gays, race riots, famines, divorces of prominent people. Who would want such a world, anyway? Is that all there is to live for?
The world AIDS conference has just ended. The plague is spreading, says the paper. No cures or relief in sight. Like of the plague of sin, it is a universal and terminal disease. Outside of the life-giving gift of God in Christ, there is no cure. A chilling thought–an epidemic poised to sweep the modern world. In the mind’s eye, we see our children and grandchildren, growing up in their youthful naivete. It sends a chill through the heart! But, thank the Lord, there is a changeless Christ, who will never leave us nor forsake us.
The newspaper says that some brainy group is inviting the citizenry to join in a contest to rename the Big Bang Theory. Apparently the idea is to try to cement as fact this mindless idea that the universe had its beginning in some huge helter-skelter chance explosion of energy. Never mind that what emerged was a universe of matchless order, perfect and predictable precision–all of which places haughty man in his true puny perspective. Man aspires to be God! But the fact remains: It is only in Him who made the stars that a sinner becomes a child of God, an heir of salvation, at one with the eternal Godhead. What assurance. What reality.
My paper is called “USA TODAY.” Well, if what the paper describes is indeed the land of my temporary residency–and it is–it sure is not worth living for! How easy it should be to say with the poet: “Nay, world, I turn away . . .” How delightful it is for the ready Christian to wait expectantly in the departure lounge, for the Rapture.
And now, there’s the call. The flight is ready for boarding. It is departure time; time for one last check of readiness–passport, boarding pass, return ticket. All are in hand. From this moment onward on this journey, the only thought worth thinking is that of getting home again. Fellow traveler, have you checked your state of readiness lately? Is all in order for imminent departure to eternity? Can you look forward to getting home . . . forever? If not, you haven’t long to get ready. We are already in the departure lounge!
An enthusiastic fellow passenger strikes up a conversation. He is eager to get to Frankfort to meet one well loved and longed for. He makes me feel momentarily even more lonely. No one will meet me over there. I’ve been to that faraway land often enough to find my solitary way to my appointments. But a land where no loved ones are is lonely at best, no matter how well we know our way. However, One well loved will one day meet me! Heaven’s portals will not be destitute. Over there One waits who loves me and gave Himself for me. Neither He nor I will be fulfilled or content until together we enter on the bliss of His eternal preparation, where through the endless ages to come He will pour out the exceeding riches of His grace. No need to be lonely or destitute even now; the glories of the meeting will burst upon us at any moment. It’s almost departure time!