"April
is the cruelest month," says T. S. Eliot.
Statistics bear him out. More
people take their lives during this month than
any other.
What makes April a depressing
time for so many? I think it has to do with the
high expectations that we bring to the month.
After a long winter we look to April for the
advent of spring, with its beauty, warmth and
relief. In reality it is often a cold, drizzly
month that chills both the bones and the spirit.
In the climate where I live, it's usually not
until May that the most welcome signs of spring
arrive.
For college students, too, April
is reality month. Suddenly you're faced with
deadlines for papers you haven't even begun, and
finals are just around the corner.
For the Christian, though, April
should sound a different note. It hosts the event
that is the greatest celebration of our faith.
The news that Christ rose from the dead brings
with it the triumphant reminder that we who
believe in him will rise also. We will live
forever in eternity with him. This is far and
away the single greatest hope which the Christian
life offers.
Yet the
prospect of eternity, like April itself, is an
ambivalent hope for many. While we realize that
on one level eternity will be an incalculable
blessing, we know it will require a sacrifice
almost too great to imagine--life as we now know
it. Journalist Ellen Goodman has remarked that we
greet change of any sort with the enthusiasm of a
child welcoming a new sitter.* Regardless of the joys
in store for us in heaven, the thought of giving
up our present experience of life terrifies us.
How Expectations Differ
Occasionally, though, I've met
those rare souls who are thoroughly entranced
with the prospect of eternal life. In the small
island community where I've often gone to write,
I spoke with Sherry, a woman whose father had
recently died. He was genuinely excited about the
prospect of heaven, she said. When a flood was
forecast and the islanders urged to evacuate, he
decided not to bother. Such predictions had never
been right before. But if this one was, he had a
better place to go, so why delay it?
The flood never came, but several
weeks later he died unexpectedly from a heart
attack. Sherry was mortified at losing her dad
and on the verge of tears as she talked with me.
But as she spoke of his hope of heaven, her
composure changed completely, and her eyes shone
with hope. "On the way home from the
funeral," she said, "it suddenly dawned
on me that he's ecstatic right now. Why are we
all so miserable? If it's anything like they say
it is, he's having a ball! He's with his mom,
whom he hasn't seen in over thirty years, and old
friends are greeting him."
This same perspective on heaven
which ignited Sherry's father's faith fuels her
own as well, and gave her the strength to get
through a terribly difficult period. When I look
at what gives this view its motivating appeal, it
boils down to this: In heaven we continue to be
individuals enjoying the same benefits of this
present life, only to a much greater degree.
Heaven is not a radical change so much as an
improvement in our present condition. The best of
life as we now know it is given back to us in
unlimited measure.
Such a view, we might say, is
common among folk such as these islanders, who
have never been to college, never taken a
philosophy course or learned to think in terms of
high theology. Yet to us it smacks of
anthropomorphism. We are not comfortable thinking
of heaven in terms of life as we now experience
it. Eternal life is the experience of endless
nirvana. In heaven we become part of a vast
cosmic spiritual force. We loose all sense of
distinctiveness as we float blissfully around
eternity as aimless souls.
But while such a view tickles our
intellect, it does little to excite us about the
possibility of leaving this life. It's small
wonder so many Christians have an April feeling
about eternity.
Keeping Our Identity
Will heaven bring with it the
chance to reunite with Uncle Jed, cousin Sally
and long forgotten childhood friends? Scripture
is less than explicit on the question and leaves
some room for mystery about the nature of
relationships in eternity. Jesus did say that
there will be no marriage in heaven (Matt 22:30).
In some sense relationships will be different
there.
Yet I'm certain that the view of
Sherry and her dad is much closer to a biblical
picture of heaven than that held by many
Christians. Scripture is clear on this point: In
heaven we will continue have the experience of
being individuals. Jesus, for instance,
declared that God is presently Lord of
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (Matt. 22:32). He meant
that they are alive as distinctive people in
eternity with him. I suspect that this means they
have the experience of relating to each other,
and that others in heaven do as well. Jesus
hinted at this when he spoke about Lazarus
resting in Abraham's bosom (Luke 16:23).
Paul teaches in 1 Corinthians 15
that we will have a body in eternity. It will be
a spiritual body, different in some respects from
the one we now have, but similar enough that it
can still be termed a body. Remember that after
his resurrection Jesus was still in a body. His
appearance was different enough that friends
didn't immediately recognize him, yet similar
enough that when he identified himself they did.
John notes in
Revelation 2:17 that in eternity we will each be
given a new name. There will be something
beautifully new to our identity. Yet to the
Hebrews the idea of a name implied everything
distinctive about a person. To receive a name is
to become an individual. C. S. Lewis, commenting
on this verse, predicts that in heaven we will
each forever praise an aspect of God's being
which no one else will be able to praise.*
The best part of April is that
Easter draws our thoughts to the miracle of
resurrection and the glories of the life to come.
May the inspiration Easter gives us to focus on
the blessings of eternity continue with us and
strengthen our faith. But let us remember that
eternity will bring with it not the annulment of
our individuality but the completion of it. We
will have the most thoroughgoing experience
possible of being a special, distinctive person.
Such a thought should not only energize our hope
of the life to come but give renewed meaning to
our life here and now. It reminds us that God has
a distinctive purpose for each of us on earth
which no one else can fulfill.
Take joy that God has made you a
one-of-a-kind creation, for now--and throughout
eternity.
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