2012-03-05

From life to Life

2012-03-04 02:00 a.m.

I write on the eve of the interment of my mother-in-law, Betty Bills. I have loved her almost as my own mother, so it is natural that, at this moment, I might contemplate the nature of death and afterlife.

I am a Christian. I believe in the resurrection of my Lord. I believe that every believer will have an afterlife with Christ, and that this afterlife will be wonderful. However, I do not subscribe to very many other specific beliefs about the nature of that afterlife, despite the popularity of some of them. I believe what the Bible clearly tells me and hold all further speculation to be just that – and it does not matter. It is enough for me to know that all of the details are taken care of. It is part of the nature of faith that I don’t have to know everything to believe. And I do believe.

But at times like this, when a loved one has recently made the transition from life to Life, I think that a spiritually sensitive believer may be able to discern something of the mystery of it all.

During normal times, in everyday life, the heavenly and the earthly are separated by an opaque veil. We know vaguely what is on the other side of that veil, but we cannot see through it. As I write this tonight, I think that the veil is a bit thinner than normal. At times like this, I think it possible to grasp the dim outline of what awaits. In a way, perhaps, Betty’s passage through the veil has disturbed it, leaving open a few rips through which we may see – though, of course, the rips are in my soul, not in the veil itself. And perhaps the veil is not something between us and heaven, but something inside us, a defect of the human soul, a defect that will be permanently removed when each of us makes that journey from life to Life.

Jesus said, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10, NIV). He did not say whether he was referring to our current, physical life or to the life yet to come. There is no reason to think that he was not referring to both.

What else did Jesus say when he walked this earth? Mostly, he kept repeating that the kingdom of heaven was at hand. I’m fairly sure many people think he was only speaking symbolically, saying that a person can “accept Christ” today and have assurance of eternal life after a purely earthly life and death. But I see no reason to read it that way. There are very few, if any, instances where scripture says that Jesus spoke in such a symbolic, abstract, non-immediate sense. When he drove the money changers out of the temple, he wasn’t speaking symbolically. When he healed the sick, he did not do so symbolically. When he raised Lazarus from the dead, there was nothing symbolic about it. When he contemplated the fate of Jerusalem and wept, there were real tears.

I believe that, when he said that the kingdom was at hand, he meant that it was right there, right then, for any to grasp who chose to do so. I suspect that what set Jesus apart from the rest of humanity was that he was not born with that soul defect, the veil that prevents us from seeing the other side. Rather, he saw clearly. That’s how his priorities could be so radically different from ours. We see clearly only things that matter in this life. He saw clearly the things that matter for eternity. This fact is apparent in John 10:17-18 (NIV): “The reason my Father loves me is that I lay down my life—only to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again. This command I received from my Father.”

He laid down his life the way I drive to work in the morning: I know that I’ll be driving home again in the afternoon. Jesus knew that he would be coming out of that grave, because he could see clearly what is veiled from the rest of us.

So I keep returning to the thought that, if the kingdom of heaven was so important that it was nearly all Jesus ever talked about, then perhaps it’s what we in the Church ought to be trying to understand and be part of. And it’s not as if he left us with no clues.

I think that a complete understanding of the kingdom of heaven would include a removal of the veil, an understanding of what’s on the other side. I don’t expect to gain that complete understanding any time soon. I expect to spend my entire life gaining that understanding, completing it only when I make the same journey that Betty has just made.

It’s clear, though, that the kingdom of heaven extends on both sides of the veil. The moment we choose to enter the kingdom, we are citizens of it for eternity.

What does that mean? The most obvious meaning is that, after physical death, I will be resurrected to a new life in a new body, in a continuation of conscious life – but in a body restored to health. This thought has comforted Christians for two millennia, as well it should.

Are there other profitable ways to think about this? I suspect so. I have a good imagination. I can think of many strange and wonderful things. Some of them might be useful. I’d enjoy having a nice chat about some of those ideas sometime. But are they necessary? No. Again, it is sufficient to know that the details have been taken care of.

One thing of which I am certain is that any action that I may take in this life is an action that I am taking in the kingdom of heaven. It is part of my eternal life. I think that this is the key to the mission of Jesus on this earth, and it is the key to seeing the shape of what lies beyond the veil.

And I think that, a couple of days ago, when Betty moved from life to Life, she came into full realization of this in a way that confirmed the entire rationale for a life of committed service to her Lord.