The Last Fifteen Minutes

“You’ve only got fifteen minutes left to your life. What are you going to do with it?” The preacher points his finger accusingly at the television audience, and the four of us fidget uncomfortably on the couch. We are watching one of my Revelation seminar DVDs in the girls dorm lounge. It has nearly become a tradition between Maria (our Slovakian Student Missionary) and myself to pop in one of these discs on Friday nights for general viewing after vespers. We never know who else will wander into the room. Sometimes it’s our confrontational Atheist student who is looking for a quibble. Sometimes it’s a pair of bored girls who want to make sure we aren’t watching something more interesting. But tonight, it is Tina, a young substitute teacher, and Jeanette, an aspiring nineth-grader. As the theme music comes on and the credits begin to role, the four of us ponder the preacher’s closing hypothetical question. What if we only had fifteen minutes left to life? What would we do with it? “Call my parents, perhaps?” suggests Jeanette somewhat doubtfully. “Snatch up my Bible and begin reading very fast?” says Maria, with a twinkle in her eye. “I might fall to my knees in prayer…” I propose, though not entirely convinced. We sit quietly for a few moments, mulling over the countless possibilities for such a short period of time. One by one I reject our previous ideas. My parents already know I love them. Why call them? The Bible is a wonderful book, but would a hurried fifteen minutes be beneficial to my grave? Falling to my knees in prayer might be the best option. Prayer never hurts. Yet, if I am already confident in my relationship with God, perhaps I should use my final moments on Earth for something else… “I tend to think that I would run outside and begin yelling to random people about the love of Jesus.” states Tina, entirely serious. We all turn to her in surprise. But as we think over what she has said, we can find no satisfactory rebuttal. Why not run out into the streets and begin grabbing pedestrians, telling them earnestly about what Christ has done for us? Isn’t that our mission on Earth anyway? Surely our self-conscious inhibitions would vaporize in the face of death. We wouldn’t worry about what people thought of us. But as the validity of this thought sinks in, we are threatened with an even more daunting question: Why wait till the last fifteen minutes?

On the day of Pentecost, the disciples ran out into the streets and began preaching. They did not have fifteen minutes left to live. Most of them had many years ahead of them, all of which would be filled with scorn from learned theologians and odd looks from common laymen. Yet, they preached God’s word all the same. “We are waiting for the latter rain of the holy spirit.” we tell ourselves in consolation. There’s no real need to make such a drastic move until then. Is there? The disciples were told to wait in Jerusalem until they received God’s promise of the Holy Spirit. We have received no such charge regarding the latter rain. We are told only to be watchful and pray because we know not at what hour Christ is coming. What will He find us doing in those last fifteen minutes?