“Seriously now,
if Heaven is as Christians describe it,
why wait?”
— Anonymous [http://tinyurl.com/ygys7b2]
“For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.
… I am torn between the two:
I desire to depart and be with Christ,
which is better by far;
but it is more necessary for you
that I remain in the body.”
— Phillipians 1:21, 23-24 [http://tinyurl.com/y9rgb2x]
As Christians, most of us develop some degree of assurance of life eternal and, with that, comes a longing for fulfillment in heaven. So why don’t we just cross our hearts and hope to die?
This question is not about suicide. Please see your pastor if you think that’s what it is about.
No, this is about the paradox that the longing for heaven, the hunger for heaven, doesn’t contradict living in the here and now. But why not? Why shouldn’t we hope to get lucky and catch an early flight?
For some of us, this longing began when our heart finally caught up with what our brains already believed. The longing grew as we grew, developed nuances, gave assurance of things unseen and, oddly enough, the very aching gave us hope and comfort. C. S. Lewis considered this heartfelt longing to be the best evidence of who we really are, which is: God’s creation, intended for life in his presence, life somewhere else, life in our true home.
“Apparently, then, our lifelong nostalgia, our longing to be reunited with something in the universe from which we now feel cut off, to be on the inside of some door which we have always seen from the outside, is no mere neurotic fancy, but the truest index of our real situation. And to be at last summoned inside would be both glory and honor beyond all our merits and also the healing of that old ache.” [C.S. Lewis, The Weight Of Glory, 41]
But how can we, standing on the “outside of the door,” manage to enjoy life to the fullest? After all, we are the ones who try to avoid the empty pleasures even as we seek consolations that can never be had in this world. How can that be a recipe for a happy life?
My personal experience is one of desperate longing and joie de vivre, each running strong on parallel tracks, with no adverse interaction. I want to dwell in the presence of God forever, and I want this more than life itself. On the other hand, I desperately want to extract from life all the opportunities life affords, strive for justice, and leave the world a better place.
I have made some progress toward resolving the paradox, but I would be the first to admit that an element of mystery remains.
- First, I note that I live within the body of Christ and have a role to play. If I retire from my role, others will take my place. However, if we all forsook our roles by taking early retirement, the body would suffer.While living, while playing my limited role, I take great satisfaction in knowing that I contribute something that puts a smile on God’s face.
- Second, I note that life isn’t just a temporary inconvenience I must endure. Life, including my very breath, is a gift from God. The truth is, right now, outside the door, I am already living inside God’s vivid dream for our world. What dream? It’s the big dream behind John 3:16. It’s the big dream behind the “hammer of justice” in the lyrics Pete Seeger wrote for “If I Had a Hammer.” Consider this: We get to surf through life on God’s dream. What could be sweeter than that? In life, we are partnered with the living God, which means we get to collaborate in bringing a small piece of God’s dream to life. We aren’t just marking time, “waiting for our ride”; we are an active part of the “family business.”
- Third, I would venture that heaven can wait. Why? Because I can experience the sweet and tangible presence of God now, while living on the “wrong” side of the door. Worship can transport me beyond the door, into the other realm. I can experience the awe and electricity of heaven in the here and now.
Truth is, my tiny cup already overflows with awe and electricity. What I really need is a bigger cup *smile* , but that cup probably won’t be super-sized until I get to heaven … so … there’s no hurry. I have an abundant life that is deeply touched by God. That’s not all of heaven, but it is all I need. For now.
Walt
Specularity 