Heaven on my mind

Heaven's not on most Christians' top ten lists of discussion topics these days, but years ago it was. Certainly when I was a kid there was much more talk about it and we'd sing choruses like, "With Eternity's Values in View."

But with the 60's the new drumbeat became "relevancy". "Don't give me all that doctrine, that theory," people would say. "Show me how it all works out in the day-to-day." Christians wanted to know how God could help them become happier, healthier, and in closer touch with the society we seek to serve.

Having said that, an event occurred last year which suddenly brought the topic of heaven front and center for me. In November I was diagnosed with cancer.

Now now, don't get all excited: I'm okay. They got it early and the prognosis is excellent.

Nevertheless, it got me thinking. While I didn't flat out panic at the time, I was unsatisfied with my response. Particularly at my lowest ebb, when I was in the hospital and waiting for the operation, God seemed absent and I felt unable to pray. So after the operation, when everything was looking good, this is what I prayed: "Lord, when it really is my time to go, please help me to be readier. I want to 'die well'."

PILGRIM'S PROGRESS

An event last week brought these thoughts and feelings into even sharper focus. In a sort of devotional way, I've been reading that old classic, Pilgrim's Progress most days as I ride public transit to work. Anyhow, the place I'd come to was where Christian and Hopeful had to cross the River (i.e., die) in order to approach the Celestial City (i.e., heaven).

Well, Hopeful was doing quite fine in his crossing, finding the water shallow so that all the while he was able to keep his eyes fixed on the Gate to the City. But poor Christian was freaking out. His head kept ducking under (evidently he couldn't swim) and he lost sight of the City. And then he started thinking he was a goner and that, after all, due to his many sins, he'd not be allowed into the City.

Let me break in here to say that as I was reading this, I couldn't help it, I started to cry. In some sense it reminded me of what I'd experienced last year. The possibility, though not really that great, of my dying had loomed in front of me, and at the same time (as I mentioned) God had seemed far away.

CHRISTIAN BREAKS OUT

Getting back to the narrative, I next came to this part, and this is where I really lost it:

"And...Christian brake out, 'Oh I see him again! And he tells me, When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee, and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee.' Then they both took courage, and the enemy was after that as still as a stone, until they were gone over."

It goes on to tell how the pilgrims were greeted on the other side of the River by the Shining Ones who kept streaming out of the City, whooping it up:

"And now were these two men, as 'twere, in Heaven, before they came at it; being swallowed up with the sight of angels, and with hearing of their melodious notes. Here also they had the City itslf in view, and they thought they heard all the bells there to ring, to welcome them thereto; but above all the warm and joyful thoughts that they had about their own dwelling there with such company, and that forever and ever. Oh, by what tongue or pen can their glorious joy be expressed."

As I read those words, all of a sudden heaven seemed very real and equally suddenly I thought what an idiot I've been, and will be, if I don't live from this moment forward with that future (and present!) reality in view.

I wish I could say that from that moment I have lived that way, but I can't. Like most of us North American Christians, I fear, I've gotten taken up with battling (winning some and losing some) pretty trivial stuff: fears and small pleasures and old temptations.

What this blog will be, I hope, will be a sort of progess report (as well as a commentary on the current Christian scene) or, as Dr. Phil might say, "How it's workin' for me." Maybe knowing I'll be reporting in to "ya'll" will be an added incentive.

That's all for now, and good night.

(Image courtesy Dale Terbush)