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More of the same?
When we
think about heaven, we have no alternative but to imagine it in terms of
what we know. For example, medieval artists painted an earthly paradise,
filled with details of their contemporary ideas of physical beauty and
perfection. (Although where on earth did they get the idea that cherubs
resembled naked, aerodynamically improbable babies?) Styles, technology and
tastes change, and medieval ideas of paradise don’t really help us imagine a
utopia today.
Modern
writers use more up-to-date imagery. C. S. Lewis’s imaginative classic
The Great Divorce describes an imaginary bus trip from hell (which he
pictured as a vast and dreary suburb) to heaven. The purpose of the trip was
to give those in “hell” a chance to change their minds. Lewis’s heaven takes
some getting used to, and many of the sinners don’t like it, preferring the
hell they know. Lewis stresses that he has no special insights into the
nature of eternal life, and intended that his book should be read strictly
as an allegory.
Mitch Albom’s fascinating The Five
People You Meet in Heaven also makes no pretense to theological
accuracy. He sets heaven in the context of a seaside fairground where the
main character had worked all his life. But Albom and Lewis and others like
them may be on to something. Heaven may not be quite so different from the
environment we experience here below.
Jesus, when describing the kingdom of
God, often said it was “like” aspects of life as we know it. Not exactly the
same, but sufficiently similar to draw an analogy.
Then and
now
For most of human history, we had little scientific
understanding of the nature of the cosmos. If they thought about such things
at all, people believed the earth was flat, and the sun and moon went around
it in perfect concentric circles. Heaven was somewhere above, and hell was
below. The traditional ideas of pearly gates, harps, white robes, wings and
an interminable praise and worship service are what you’d expect from
sincere people trying to interpret what little the Bible says about heaven
in terms of the world as they understood it.
Today we know so much more
about the nature of the physical cosmos. We know that the earth is a
micro-speck in an enormous and apparently expanding universe. We know that
what seems like solid reality is, at a fundamental level, a wispy web of
energy, bound together by forces so strong that for most of history we did
not even suspect that they existed. We know that perhaps as much as 90
percent of the universe is made up of “dark matter”— about which we can
theorize with mathematics, but cannot see or measure.
We know that even such
apparently indisputable ideas as the “passing of time” are relative. Even
the dimensions that define our ideas of space (length, width, height and
time) are just visible and comprehensible aspects of a much more involved
and intricate reality. Although it is impossible to imagine how they work,
we are told by some astrophysicists that there may be at least seven more
dimensions. These scientists speculate that those extra dimensions are as
much a part of reality as height, length and breadth and time. They operate
at a level that our finest instruments cannot measure, and even our minds
can but ponder them briefly before becoming bewildered and disoriented.
The
scientific breakthroughs of the last few decades have shattered traditional
understanding of just about everything. So what about heaven? Do we need to
look again at our ideas of what life might be like in the hereafter?
Hereafter
That’s an interesting word. Here-after. Not there-after
or where-after. Is it possible that eternal life could be spent in a
rather familiar environment, doing things we have learned to enjoy, with
people we know and with bodies that we recognize? Could it be that what
comes next will be an extension of the best of life as we know it, but
without negative stress, anxiety or suffering? Well—and read this
carefully—the Bible does not say it will not be like that. (I’d better run
that by you again—the Bible does not say it will not be like that.)
American theologian Randy Alcorn has spent years studying the concept of
heaven. In his book Heaven, while carefully avoiding sensationalism
and fantasy, Alcorn subjects every biblical reference that alludes to life
after death to careful scrutiny. The result is a fascinating portrait of
what the afterlife may be like. He writes:
“We get tired of ourselves, of
others, of sin and suffering and crime and death. Yet we love the earth,
don’t we? I love the spaciousness of the night sky over the desert. I love
the coziness of sitting next to Nanci on the couch in front of the fire,
blanket over us and dog snuggled next to us. These experiences are not
heaven—but they are foretastes of heaven. What we love about this
life are the things that resonate with the life we are made for. The things
we love are not merely the best this life has to offer— they are previews of
the greater life to come.”
So why allow our view of heaven to be limited to
yesterday’s worldviews? Let’s speculate about what our enhanced
understanding of our environment might tell us about life in heaven.
Heavenly bodies
The Apostles
Creed, the most popular Christian statement of faith, affirms the
“resurrection of the body.” You may have repeated it hundreds of times. Have
you ever thought about what it means?
It is popular to think of the
resurrection in terms of a “spirit” body, a wispy, ethereal, unreal,
ghostlike sort of form. But that is not a biblical idea. The Bible indicates
that a resurrected human being will have a real body. But that body will not
be physical as we understand physical.
Our concept of physical (or “real”)
is bound by the four dimensions with which we experience reality. But if
indeed there are many more dimensions, then our definition of what is “real”
is woefully inadequate.
After he had been resurrected, Jesus had a real
body. He could eat, walk, and appeared quite normal. He could be touched.
Yet he was able to step in and out of the dimensions of our “reality” at
will, appearing to walk through a wall like Harry Potter at the railroad
station. We interpret that as unreal, but perhaps it is quite normal for a
body that can experience the full spectrum of reality.
So can you look forward to
living forever in a form that is recognizably you, with a real body
that is not subject to death, sickness and decay, and is not dependent on
air, food, water and the circulation of blood for its existence? It
certainly seems so. “Who knows how we’ll end up!” says the Bible. “What we
know is that when Christ is openly revealed, we’ll see him—and in seeing
him, become like him” (1 John 3:2, Message Bible).
Imagine life with your
mind—it would still be your mind—with the junk cleaned out and the
priorities reordered, free forever to plan, dream and create. Imagine an
eternity reunited with old friends and the limitless potential to make more.
Imagine relationships with others, and with God, without anxiety, tension or
upset. Imagine never having to say “good-bye” to people you love.
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