Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Longing for Heaven

I wonder if everyone has the same difficulty that I have in imagining what the kingdom of heaven will be like? In our imaginings, can we even create a place we’d actually want to stay for eternity? I’d have to say that I’m rarely so inspired. Most of my thoughts of eternity are of those things that will be absent there—no more pain, sorrow, sin and shame, failing bodies, frustrating work, or irritating people. I often long for the day when those things will be gone, but I give little thought to what is beyond that.

One definition of “ethereal” is heavenly or celestial; but another definition is light, airy, or tenuous. The common illustrations of heaven are so insubstantial and inconsequential as to be unappealing to all but a few. Fluffy clouds and harps? Does that appeal to anyone? Don’t we long for something of substance, weighty and meaningful?

The few pictures of heaven from Scripture don’t do much to excite me either. The images from the book of Revelation are too bizarre to make me say “I want to be there,” (except perhaps in an idle curiosity as to what those creatures are actually going to look like). The thought of the wedding supper of the Lamb is tainted by memories of awkward meals with strangers, or even worse, memories of junior high cafeteria cliques. I wouldn’t mind the occasional Gaither-style homecoming concert, though not forever.

Brent Curtis and John Eldredge point out in The Sacred Romance that one key factor of heaven is intimacy. We will know God and be known by Him as the dearest of friends (see 1 Cor. 13:12). I don’t think that is going to be experienced as a crowd of people bowing down before the throne. That doesn’t sound at all intimate, or even enjoyable. C.S. Lewis writes in The Weight of Glory, “The sense that in this universe we are treated as strangers, the longing to be acknowledged, to meet with some response, to bridge some chasm that yawns between us and reality, is part of our inconsolable secret. And surely, from this point of view, the promise of glory, in the sense described, becomes highly relevant to our deep desire. For glory meant good report with God, acceptance by God, response, acknowledgment, and welcome into the heart of things.”

Jesus says, “I go to prepare a place for you” (John 14:2). He’s not just preparing a general place for all believers, but a place for me. He’s preparing a place that each one of us can call home. My idea of the perfect meal would be a quiet dinner with a few close friends, enjoying one another and sharing laughter. The perfect evening might be spent watching the sun setting and the stars appearing one by one. I’d rather have a cabin in the country than a room in a mansion. One of my favorite recurring dreams is of going swimming and finding I can breathe under water. It would be awesome to go reef diving without special gear and without fear. I believe God is creative enough to satisfy each person’s deepest desires. And with the new heavens and new earth, there will be plenty of space for a wide variety of opportunities.

Other authors have pointed out that just as the original creation began with God’s work and included a form of work for mankind (tending the garden), so the new creation will include work. It will begin with God’s re-creation of heaven and earth (Rev. 21). I don’t suppose we’ll hear the command to “be fruitful and multiply,” but somehow mankind will have a purpose to fulfill as well. No longer will work be arduous and frustrating, but something we can enjoy and glorify God with. We probably can’t even begin to imagine what God will have us doing because we have nothing on this earth with which to compare it.

The enemy uses our misconceptions of heaven for his purposes. If heaven is not a place that we long for, what is our motivation for sharing the gospel? That’s like trying to get someone excited about going to the dentist. Sure it’s necessary, but you won’t enjoy it.

If our ideas of heaven create a sense of boredom or perhaps even revulsion, we can be sure they must be wrong. C.S. Lewis says, “If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.” Curtis & Eldredge suggest that our three essential desires are intimacy, beauty, and adventure. We may use different terminology, but the idea is that those things which stir our longings in this life are windows to the life to come. Perhaps as we think about what we desire most deeply, we will begin to imagine what that other world may look like. And then we can look forward to that day with hope and anticipation. Otherwise we’re just biding our time until the pain of this life is over, and there is no hope in that.

“Blessed by the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to His great mercy, He has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you” (1 Peter 1:3-4).