What/How is Heaven?
What is Heaven? or How is Heaven? are silly questions. Every Christian knows from childhood the blissful rewards for eternity for good behavior. Streets paved with gold, abundance of milk and honey and other wonderful things to complement a totally idyllic life will be theirs.
The Bible seems to be of little help on this subject of what and how. Jesus said “in my Father’s house are many mansions”, and “I go prepare a place for you” and to the thieves who died with him “you will join me in Paradise”. Otherwise, he did not define the nature of life believers could expect as their ultimate reward.
Assume it is just like or similar to popular parlance, since nobody seems to know what eternal life is like. Questions arise, however, of what our love ones and friends will look like. How will we know them? Grandparents were fairly old or very old when we knew them. Of course, a twenty year old appears and behaves old to a small child. Will an eighty-seven year old grandfather have a sixteen year old body, but a big white mustache? Similar questions arise about all others inside the Pearly Gates.
It is unlikely anyone would want to spend eternity in an old and possibly frail body at the time of their death. Also, grandparents had parents and grandparents. Some parents and grandparents die young. It would be strange for an eighty-seven year old man to walk down the golden streets with his forty year old father and thirty-seven year old grandfather.
One of my brothers, who was born two years earlier than me, died in infancy. Is it possible that I will, in whatever age body I have in Heaven, change my older infant brother’s diapers and wheel him around in a gold stroller? He never had an older body to dial back to.
Will dominant grandmothers, grandfathers, mother or fathers assume the same role in Heaven? How would it be if some grizzled old frontiersman of whatever age in Heaven claimed the right to make all decisions for later generations who never knew he existed? What if none of the preachers the family knew did not seem to be anywhere in Heaven? Will people begin to speculate about the preacher and Mamie Bradford who lived in the neighborhood and is nowhere to be found? She was such a nice girl. One never knows.
From dust we came and to dust we will return. Only the soul is eternal. Perhaps only spirits or souls go to Heaven. They would not take up much space. Anyone scared of ghosts might find Heaven horrifying, as spooks could be in any or every nook and cranny. A lot of spirits passing through harps could produce a very eerie, even scary atmosphere. Also, it might be interesting to learn whether streets of gold and milk and honey would appeal to bodiless spirits. A husband-spirit might say to his wife-spirit, “Honey, your honey is showing.”
We know that God works in mysterious ways. Perhaps He knows that Heaven has to offer eternal life to allow people time to find their families and friends and sort them out. If so, Heaven could be a bigger and more confusing trick than the Tower of Babel. For instance, think of all the Chinese souls one might have to inspect in an effort to find Mommy and Daddy. Will souls be color coded so one would at least know which continent neighborhood to start a search? It might be useless to look for Aunt Mary, as she is probably with Mamie Bradford and the preacher. And, oh my, wouldn’t it be nice to find your lifetime heroes? Once you did, it might be possible to spirit yourself to the front of the line to strum a few harp notes with your favorites while less assertive souls wait patiently in line. It is doubtful that Heaven is immune from craftiness and trickery that serve so well on earth. Heaven, like life, might be a learning experience.
See you there.
What is Heaven? or How is Heaven? are silly questions. Every Christian knows from childhood the blissful rewards for eternity for good behavior. Streets paved with gold, abundance of milk and honey and other wonderful things to complement a totally idyllic life will be theirs.
The Bible seems to be of little help on this subject of what and how. Jesus said “in my Father’s house are many mansions”, and “I go prepare a place for you” and to the thieves who died with him “you will join me in Paradise”. Otherwise, he did not define the nature of life believers could expect as their ultimate reward.
Assume it is just like or similar to popular parlance, since nobody seems to know what eternal life is like. Questions arise, however, of what our love ones and friends will look like. How will we know them? Grandparents were fairly old or very old when we knew them. Of course, a twenty year old appears and behaves old to a small child. Will an eighty-seven year old grandfather have a sixteen year old body, but a big white mustache? Similar questions arise about all others inside the Pearly Gates.
It is unlikely anyone would want to spend eternity in an old and possibly frail body at the time of their death. Also, grandparents had parents and grandparents. Some parents and grandparents die young. It would be strange for an eighty-seven year old man to walk down the golden streets with his forty year old father and thirty-seven year old grandfather.
One of my brothers, who was born two years earlier than me, died in infancy. Is it possible that I will, in whatever age body I have in Heaven, change my older infant brother’s diapers and wheel him around in a gold stroller? He never had an older body to dial back to.
Will dominant grandmothers, grandfathers, mother or fathers assume the same role in Heaven? How would it be if some grizzled old frontiersman of whatever age in Heaven claimed the right to make all decisions for later generations who never knew he existed? What if none of the preachers the family knew did not seem to be anywhere in Heaven? Will people begin to speculate about the preacher and Mamie Bradford who lived in the neighborhood and is nowhere to be found? She was such a nice girl. One never knows.
From dust we came and to dust we will return. Only the soul is eternal. Perhaps only spirits or souls go to Heaven. They would not take up much space. Anyone scared of ghosts might find Heaven horrifying, as spooks could be in any or every nook and cranny. A lot of spirits passing through harps could produce a very eerie, even scary atmosphere. Also, it might be interesting to learn whether streets of gold and milk and honey would appeal to bodiless spirits. A husband-spirit might say to his wife-spirit, “Honey, your honey is showing.”
We know that God works in mysterious ways. Perhaps He knows that Heaven has to offer eternal life to allow people time to find their families and friends and sort them out. If so, Heaven could be a bigger and more confusing trick than the Tower of Babel. For instance, think of all the Chinese souls one might have to inspect in an effort to find Mommy and Daddy. Will souls be color coded so one would at least know which continent neighborhood to start a search? It might be useless to look for Aunt Mary, as she is probably with Mamie Bradford and the preacher. And, oh my, wouldn’t it be nice to find your lifetime heroes? Once you did, it might be possible to spirit yourself to the front of the line to strum a few harp notes with your favorites while less assertive souls wait patiently in line. It is doubtful that Heaven is immune from craftiness and trickery that serve so well on earth. Heaven, like life, might be a learning experience.
See you there.
Emory,
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed your explorations and questions about what Heaven might be like..its fun to imagine what I might find - assuming I'll qualify. What I hope for are answers, redemption and peace.....and to meet those that time and distance have prevented on Earth.
As a child, I pictured heaven as a place with nice weather and filled with people talking, having a good time and for some reason, a place where men sat around drinking beer. Considering my Mormon upbrining, I kept my version of heaven to myself though there are likely many who hope I was right.
Heaven is here on earth and so is hell. It is enough to contend with this existence rather than worrying about the next. Arthur C Clarke's take on it 2001 a space odyssey is my idea of contentment. Floating by other unique consciousnesses as a particle of energy yet recognizable as a separte entity. Glancing about for Plato and Aristotle, Mozart and Beethoven, Michaelangelo and Klee, Getz and Charles. Sending out that special wink only my particle can give, waiting for the exiting emergence of response. My grandfather Luigi died at the age of 43 after shooting himself in the head one morning with a rusty pistol. He had to shoot himself twice to get the job done. He was despondent over having some part in the death of his son, William, dead at 8 after being dragged to death by a cow. Grandpa lived in the hell of that guilt for 7 years before shooting himself while Grandma Josephina was at church. My father, Sam, was 12 years old. He had to live the rest of his life knowing that he was not enough to keep his father wanting to keep on living. And so it goes. Heaven and eath are here. Life is for the living. Let's get on with us and lower our eyes. There's nothing up there. There's nothing down their either. Dante has a wonderful imagination, but hey, so do I. I contend we are experiencing first hand whatever heaven and hell have to offer right here, right now.
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