I
first wrote these notes as a blog. For that reason they are probably
fairly unstructured and are not meant to be for teaching purposes but
more simply to edify or challenge to think.
I
was driving along in my car having visited a friend who, humanly speaking,
doesn't look like she has long in this world, and my thoughts flowed
to my own father who died a number of years ago from cancer, but a short
while before dying made, I am certain, a profession of faith. I anticipate
seeing him when I reach heaven.
Now
I'm aware that this little paragraph above presupposes a whole load
of things, and I really don't want to be bothered here to ‘prove' them,
but just recognise them. First, is that I am certain that there is an
existence, after life on this earth, called heaven. I believe that because
the Bible says it and I've come to trust what the Bible says. “Why?”
is another story, and this is not the place to tell it. But I believe
and in fact, I am certain about its existence.
Second,
I go along with the Bible's assertion that not everyone goes there.
I'm quite comfortable with that because I see that throughout our lives
God gives us the ability to make choices about our lives and presumably,
and as the Bible says, about our destiny after this earth. I'm not going
in to the alternative to heaven; that also is another story and here
is not the place to tell it. Part of this confidence, that not everyone
goes there, is linked to the means that the Bible seems to spell out
quite clearly, which is that Jesus Christ is the doorway to heaven.
Whether anyone or any other way exists, seems highly doubtful although
the apostle, Paul, does seem to make some suggestions in the early pages
of his letter to the Romans.
Third,
I have this expectation of seeing my father again because he did, I
am certain, make a profession of faith that will have carried him to
heaven, even though his time after on earth was very short. I would
also add that I am also certain that I will see my mother there as well,
because she also made a profession of faith and lived by it a number
of years before her time came to depart this planet – but this is more
about thoughts of my father. Having pondered this as I drove along,
I realise that I have made a great jump of faith in saying, “I anticipate
seeing him” because the Bible doesn't actually say that, but it says
a number of things that imply that possibility.
That
takes us on to ponder about just how much we ‘know' and how much we
have to ‘assume' or even guess at. There are those who like to be utterly
dogmatic about every aspect of their faith, but I would suggest that
their dogmatism is actually a sign of their insecurity. I believe I
am more sure of my faith now, after forty years of being a Christian,
and yet I am also more sure that there are many things over which we
cannot be utterly dogmatic, and if we are we just show ourselves to
be silly to thinking people. I like the way Francis Schaeffer used to
put it – the Bible doesn't tell us everything but it tells us sufficient
upon which to build faith. The bits I am not certain about I'm happy
with, because of the assurances that I have with the bits that one can
be sure about, and heaven is a bit like this.
For
instance, I am quite happy to accept that the Bible seems to suggest
that heaven is the place where God exists, and that it is eternal and
that it is wonderful and that there are no more tears, no sin and no
suffering there. Those are the easy bits. But I have a problem with
those people who just see heaven as a place where all we do is sing
songs and fall down before the throne of God worshipping him, because
that is the picture revealed in the book of Revelation.
So
why do I have a problem with that? Because that picture is not ‘big
enough' and doesn't honour the God who has made the world that we know.
Now I believe that God is worthy of our eternal worship; of that there
is no question, but the thought that that is all He has for us in heaven
seems to demean Him. For instance the picture in the vision in chapter
22 of the book of Revelation shows us an existence where we ‘serve'
God (which implies activity) and we “reign for ever” which also implies
activity – and that is far more than merely standing singing songs or
bowing down. It implies purposeful activity.
To
ponder another aspect of this picture of heaven, think first about what
we know of this earth. Modern TV programmes have done us the service
of revealing something of the staggering wonder of this incredible world
that God has made. What I find most staggering is that God has designed
me as a human being with the capability of ‘enjoying' the world. Yes,
we also have the capability of abusing this world and destroying it
and one another, but that, as I've said previously, is ‘another story'.
This world is incredible and God has made me with sight, hearing, taste
and touch so that I can thoroughly enjoy it. The variety of what is
on this planet is staggering. Now if, as most of us Christians concede,
heaven is wonderful, we are implying that it is MORE wonderful than
this present world. If it is more wonderful than this world, is God
going to consign me to just gazing at a few square feet of floor in
His throne room? I don't think so! The thing about God's love, and I
suppose any real love, is that it gives out and wants to bless its recipients.
God's love for me, means that He constantly wants to bless me and give.
(Yes, there is the other side of the coin about me being a giver as
well, but let's leave these many other ‘stories' and focus on this one
for the moment!) I'm sorry, I think if you have this limited view of
heaven, you are seriously underselling the shear wonder of God's love
and His creativity.
Can
I illustrate this by a conversation my wife and I once had at an air
show. There were some American F111's flying over and she exalted, “Wow”
When I get to heaven I'm going to fly one of those.” My reply was, “Wow”
When I get to heaven I'm going to fly like one of those!” Who knows
how wonderful it will be in heaven? Whatever we grasp at, I'm sure we'll
underplay it because we seem to constantly be looking through Paul's
dark or smoked glass, or poorly reflecting mirror (1 Cor 13:12). We
just can't think big enough.
So
why do I think we'll be able to see people that we recognise? Well the
apostle Paul who seemed to get some of the biggest insights on these
sorts of things, spoke of us have a new ‘body', a ‘heavenly body' (1
Cor 14:40 ),
an imperishable, glorious, spiritual body (v.42-44). ‘Body' whether
it is physical or spiritual seems to indicate an entity that other similar
entities can recognise and communicate with at the very least. I don't
know if you ever saw the sci-fi series, ‘Deep Space Nine' in which there
was a “shape shifter” who eventually came across the home of all shape
shifters that appeared like an oily sea called ‘The Link', and when
he stepped into it, seemed to dissolve into it and become one with the
rest, and yet be able to reshape and step out as an individual when
he wanted. Now maybe that's a bit of a pantheistic mentality that produced
that idea, I don't know, but there is within Scripture this sense of
unity and diversity, this being one with others “in the Spirit” and
yet still a unique individual.
The
fact that Moses and Elijah reappeared in their human form with Jesus
on the Mount of transfiguration in the Gospels, suggests unique human
personalities that remain unique human personalities even though they
change their ‘shell'. So suppose I encounter my father in heaven, the
father I knew many years ago. That raises some questions! What age will
we both be, or will spiritual bodies be ageless? I suggest the latter.
But one thing I assumed in my picture of my Dad is that we would both
completely know each other. I know it's taking it out of context, but
I suspect it's because of Paul's comment that “now that you know God--or
rather are known by God” which suggests an intimacy of understanding,
and if that's so will we have same understanding when we encounter ‘people'
in heaven?
In
my mind's eye, I saw us both feeling rather shy, aware that previously
we really hadn't known each other. How do we really ‘know' anyone this
side of heaven, because our knowing is all about receiving messages
from outside the person? I hear your words, and I read your body language,
but beyond that I don't know what you are really thinking or feeling.
Yet in heaven I have this feeling that there will be this openness and,
if we can look back, we'll realise that we knew so little of each other.
And there's more: what about the fact that I've lived so many more years
on earth since he died?
This
makes me feel that those who worry about ‘their loved ones' going or
not going to heaven, are actually way off track. They envisage missing
them in heaven because they envisage having the same feelings for them,
and yet the reality may be that with different bodies and the ability
to utterly know another being, that will mean that it will be such a
different experience that it cannot be compared. If we get scared at
that thought, it simply means we can't visualize how wonderful that
experience will be. Is this why Jesus decried the Sadducees' talk about
marriage in heaven? (Lk 20:35) Is it because the experience of relationship
will be so much deeper and more meaningful than anything we had here,
that looking back will mean that all relationships will seem as shadows
and therefore there will little meaning in the new existence.
There
is another thought about heaven which often crops up and which I believe
is valid, and it is that heaven will be so much more ‘real' than our
experience here. I use the analogy of colour and no colour. If heaven
is so much more wonderful then I imagine that the comparison is like
saying that everything that we know now is by comparison shades of grey
and the new existence of heaven will be bright colours. But therein
is the problem: how can someone with full colour sight explain what
they see to a person who is utterly colour blind and only sees greys?
This
concept of heaven being ‘more real' comes up in the writings of C.S.Lewis.
In his children's book, The Last Battle , the children die
in a train crash and go to heaven. They enter another land from the
land of Narnia where most of their adventures had occurred and, to simplify
the story, they respond to the cry, “Farther up and farther in”, and
move into the land only to find it is a replica of Narnia except more
real. I used to have a copy of his The Great Divorce (until
someone borrowed it and forgot to bring it back!) but if my memory serves
me right, he sought to convey the same thing there, that in heaven everything
is more ‘solid' or real and the ‘further in' you go, the more solid
or more real it is. Of course, as a Christian, he expresses the Biblical
picture – of an ongoing life with full self-awareness and sense of personality
and personhood, a place free from wrongs and free from pain. In other
words, it is a place of pleasure and ultimate fulfilment, a place of
life and light and colour and wonder.
This
picture of a very real and wonderful afterlife stands in stark contrast
to atheist, Philip Pullman's picture in the last of his ‘Dark Materials'
trilogy where, in the afterlife, ghosts were trapped in a dark nothingness
world but then the heroes release them and they dissolve into the rest
of the physical world – Pantheism! It is playing with words; it is in
reality a non-existence as we know existence, which is the fullness
of life – energy with personality and self-awareness. If you don't believe
in a spirit world, then of course evaporating into nothingness is the
best you can hope for. I'm glad the Bible paints a very different picture.
It's a wonderful hope and without it, existence in this world is just
that, a temporary meaningless existence that will soon be gone.
So
there I was, pondering the thought of seeing my dad again. Perhaps it
will be, perhaps not. I've often thought that God would let us look
back, if only for a brief moment, so we can see the reality of what
has been in this world and see how much more wonderful the next is.
One thing I've always been sure about, is that if He does allow us to
look back with no limitation of understanding, I am utterly confident
that we will never be able to blame or criticise Him for anything He
said or did, or didn't do. Understanding, I am sure, will remove all
questions. The reason I hope it will only be momentary, this looking
back, is that if our understanding is allowed to be total, we will see
our lives as they really were and weep for our wrong understanding of
life and also for the wrong thoughts, words and actions we had while
here. I have a feeling that it will only be momentary because I wonder
if suddenly we'll see all the wrong sucked away to the Cross in its
unique place in history. Suddenly we will understand. But if that is
so, then it makes me feel I ought to make some more effort this side
of heaven to understand what it's all about, while I have the time.
There's a new day coming and I'd like to do what I can to be ready of
it.
I'll
close with a more recent memory than my own dad. It involved my wife's
dad, who I also loved and respected. When he died, I visited the body
in the Undertaker's parlour (is that what you call it?). For a few minutes
I stood there gazing on the body, quietly giving thanks to God for the
life I had known and been blessed by. Without thinking, as I turned
away to go, I simply looked up and said, “Be seeing you, dad,” and left.
I will.
Sunday Services
Back to Previous Contents Page