“Marana Tha” (“O, Lord, come!”). Since the days of the apostles, this prayer has echoed from the hearts of countless Christians, expressing the earnest desire and expectation that our Lord would return as He promised. Soon.

Of Aramaic origin, this combination of words (which in modern popular literature are typically found joined together) is used only once in the Greek New Testament (I Corinthians 16:22). While Paul’s precise intention in using it is a matter of some discussion, there is no doubt that the return of the Lord, in his mind and in the minds of the early church, was anticipated with deep desire. Even before His crucifixion, the Lord Jesus had promised that He would return for His followers, like a bridegroom coming to take his bride away. When He ascended into heaven, an angel appeared to the disciples with the message that they should not be dismayed, but rather hopeful, for Christ would return in the same way He left - physically and visibly.

As time passed, however, and the initial explosive expansion of the church diminished, in its place came a period of often agonizing confusion and correction. In the face of increasing persecution, the Apostle Peter was prompted to remind his readers to not give up hope - the Lord will keep His promise, but in His own time (see II Peter 3).

History testifies to the great troubles that the followers of Christ have endured. Nevertheless, each generation remembered the promise and hoped that it would be the one to welcome the Lord back to earth. This hope enabled (-es) them to press on in spite of immense pressure. And, often with their last breath, they would repeat the cry of the ages: “Marana Tha!”.

In our generation, a fascination with the doctrine of the Lord’s return has seemed to reach unprecedented proportions. The phenomenon of the Left Behind series has only served to intensify it more. Debates on the precise interpretation of apocalyptic passages abound, with God-fearing people arguing on all sides of the issue.

My point in this article is not to add to this debate. Rather, I want to share with you my newfound perspective on the anticipation and hope that we share, which can fill us with joy in spite of our pain. Early in the morning of July 2nd, I awoke to find Solvita in the middle of another labor contraction . For the next 27 hours, the two of us together walked through what, beyond question, was the most painful experience she has ever had. Our (natural) hopes for a fast and easy labor were thoroughly dashed. Indeed, there were times when we were tempted to despair, and the longer it went, the harder it became. It seemed that our baby would never come!

Reflecting back, I understand much more fully now why the process of labor and delivery is so often used in the Scriptures as the metaphor-of-choice for pain and anguish. No words seem adequate to describe the degree of pain that is (or at least can be) experienced. And all one can do is endure to the end. It also seems in a way “unfair”, that such great suffering comes to those who are the picture of hope and innocence among us (expectant mothers). And this only strengthens the imagery.

In Romans 8:22-23, Paul writes, “For we know that the whole creation groans and labors with birth pangs together until now. Not only that, but we also who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves....”. We live in a world in agony. History is a catalog of painful events. And Christians are not exempt from this experience. In fact, we may feel it more.  To leave the picture there, however, would only tell half the story. Labor is not only about pain. There is something far greater and far better behind it. On July 3rd, 9:05 A.M., Solvita and I looked upon the form of our baby girl as she lay, eyes opened wide with innocent curiosity, comforted by the warmth of Solvita’s body. No vocabulary is sufficient to describe the overpowering sensations of heart and mind we had at that moment. Indeed, no words came at all - I knew if I tried to say anything, the dam would burst. Finally, after a long interval, I was able to speak to our little Charity: “Welcome!” 

All pain comes to an end in time, but labor and delivery does so in a unique (and wonderful!) way. In this singular process, what is (at least for some) the greatest of pains gives way in a moment to the greatest of joys. All the agony, distress and anxiety are gone - and not just gone...they’re practically forgotten! Why? Because what was long awaited for has finally come! Astute readers will notice that I didn’t complete the earlier quotation from Romans. Our bodies, says Paul, will be “redeemed”, and we will experience the fullness of our “adoption”. Then our “groanings” will be gone, replaced by inexpressible joy.

This same encouragement is given by the Lord Jesus in John 16:20-22: "Most assuredly, I say to you that you...will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will be turned into joy. A woman, when she is in labor, has sorrow because her hour has come; but as soon as she has given birth to the child, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world. Therefore you now have sorrow; but I will see you again and your heart will rejoice, and your joy no one will take from you.”

I am not a prophet, and have no idea what specific hardships we will yet have to pass through. But take courage - the long-awaited One will come! And when He does, the pain we experience now will be gone, aye, even forgotten. We will gaze in wonder upon His beautiful face, and maybe, when we are composed enough, we’ll muster enough strength to simply say, “Welcome!”

“Marana Tha!”
 

In His Service,

Stephen P. Tecklenberg
President / Executive Director