Hopeless in the face of death? Reflections on the passing of two prominent Australians

For my first substantive Blog posting I wanted something big! This weekend's passing of Australian icon, Steve Irwin, was big. Irwin died "doing what he loved."

Media outlets all over the world obsessed about Irwin's death. The Australian media is drawing parallels to the death of Princess Di - a freak accident resulting in public dismay and blanket media coverage. It ran at the top of the US news shows, people all over the world were shocked by this tragic and unexpected death.

The US media picked up the fact that many Australians were "ashamed of him," (and I do admit to feeling that emotion on occasion) but in the end, he died doing what he loved. One Australian politician said Steve Irwin was better known than our Prime Minister! People all over the world loved this guy. They watched his show, they thought he was funny, they fell in love with him, many fell in love with Australia (understandably!) because of him.

Another man who - in many ways - couldn't be more different from Irwin, passed away just weeks before. Yes, for those of you who haven't yet heard, my Great Uncle Leon (Uncle Le-Le to my friends from Christ Church) went home in late July. He was 92 years old, had published more than 50 books that sold over 2 million copies. He lectured all over the world and is well-known to most American pastors (possibly better known than to Australian pastors!) As a 13 year-old boy (and new Christian) I remember standing in his study in awe of all the books, particularly the whole corner of books he wrote!

I believe the past five years brought Leon and I closer together, in experience, if not geography. My last several visits to Leon, at least since 1998, have seen him unable to clearly remember me. The last time I visited he thought I was his brother, my grandfather. He has been living in discomfort, in the frustration of forgetfulness, and others around him have seen one thing very clearly – Leon Morris was not at home here. He never really was. As he bounced around the car in rural South Australia, furthering his theological studies as Mildred drove the hundreds of miles, as he contended for the truth through many books and other writings, that was the message of Leon Morris’ life – "I am not home yet. I will not be home until the Lord takes me."

My grandfather read part of a tribute I wrote for Leon at the funeral:
"Leon will be remembered for his gentle, humble manner and his generosity and love toward all people. As family and friends recall what he has left behind, they are very likely to smile (or laugh out loud) as they remember his sharp, dry sense of humor. Most of all, they will remember a man who lived his life faithfully to the glory of God. He has achieved his life’s goal now. He is home.
In his own words: "Men are hopeless in the face of death, but not so men in Christ."
(The Cross in the New Testament, p226) "

Leon and me, sharing coffee and a chat for the last time, this side of heaven.