Car

Here’s a funny thing that happened. And it’s all absolutely true. I told someone the story only the other day and it struck me like it had never struck me before. When my mum died in July, the family offered Zac her car. My sister’s children are all married and have cars, or don’t want them because of where they live. My brother’s children are not yet old enough to drive. Meg is married and they have a car, so Zac got lucky. Or blessed! He was understandably delighted. It’s not new car, but it’s only done 58,000 miles and mum kept it well. Always had it serviced regularly and repaired as soon as it needed repairing. It was one of her qualities. She looked after the things she had. I got the job of driving it back from Wimborne. Well, I would have done, except having insured it and taxed it, I could get it going! Mum had only driven it once in lockdown, so we assumed it was the battery. A call to Phil, family friend of my grandad (mum’s dad) who trained him as a mechanic, would sort it, I thought. Phil couldn’t get it going either. It wasn’t the battery. Phil took it to the garage to have a look and see what was really wrong with it. He tried the thing he thought it would be and put a new part in. Still it didn’t work. By now I was back in Crawley.. After a week, I phoned him to see how things were. “Sorry Ian,” he said. “It’s something else and that requires quite a lot of money to be spent.” Oh dear. “So what you’re saying, Phil, is that it’s not worth doing?” “I don’ think so,” came the reply. “OK. Thanks for your help.” We decided Phil would scrap the car and keep the money for the effort he’d made to get it going. Mum’s car, it seemed, had died with her. Sorry Zac. He had a car. then he didn’t. Two weeks later Phil rang me: “Ian,” he said. “I decided the car was too good to scrap, so I sourced a reconditioned part and I’ve got ii going. You can have it if you want it.” After a call to my brother, we decided it would be lovely to keep the car in the family, so we paid Phil for the work he’d done and I went to get the car when we went to Wimborne for mum’s funeral service. Which was oddly fitting. Mum’s car had died with her. And, by some miracle it was resurrected with her! At the service that day we gave thanks for mum’s life, mourned her death, but celebrated the deep and profound truth that she would enjoy a resurrection life in the presence of the God she loved and served. We did the same with her car. We thanked the family for the gift given, mourned it's loss and then celebrated when it was resurrected! Does that remind you of another story? One where a gift is given, then lost to death, only to be resurrected? It’s a story we remember when we celebrate Christmas: the giving of a gift. A gift of life. And a gift of life to more than just a baby, for that life was lived that we too might live. And, even though we too face death, we can, as my mum did, look forward to a resurrection life lived in the presence of the giver of the gift. I never thought a car could have such theological meaning. Funny how God can work. Happy Christmas!