Time and Heaven April 14, 2008
Posted by Anya in : I won't keep things purposely vague , 3commentsAlright. Andúnë rather firmly hinted that he’d like a post on the subject of Time. Fair enough. He came up with an extremely interesting point involving the two books which I forced him (más o menos) to read. (I ought to call these two books something like The Crash Course For Being Able To Understand Anya’s Rather Eclectic Literary References, And, Consequently, Many Of The Divergent Trails Which Her Mind Takes In What Appear To Be Perfectly Ordinary Conversations, 101. But I digress.)
Here’s part of his email: I found a connection between A Severe Mercy and The Hitchhikers Guide. Watches. Sheldon Vanauken talks about time and thinks that modern man possibly has a watch fetish. Strange to see two authors notice the same thing and look at it as Nihilist and as a Christian searching for eternity.Man is always searching for eternity, with Sheldon Vanauken you see somebody who has found it. With Douglas Adams you see somebody who has failed in his quest for eternity but still senses the urge for it. An interesting contrast, don’t you think?
It took some thought as to what I could post about this. Fortunately, my brain kicked into synthesis mode while I was brushing my teeth. See, I was thinking about The Swift, which make me think about this video clip. It was incredible to worship with that many other people. So what will heaven be like? Heaven seems to keep coming up. With Pedro aka Mr. Tangentry, about the mysterious incredibility of it (but not really incredibility, because we believe it.) With Griffin, talking about the brokenness of saying goodbye, and the non-necessity of such in heaven. Also when I was listening to Jars of Clay’s beautiful song All My Tears (by Julie Anne Miller):
When I go, don’t cry for me
In my Father’s arms I’ll be
The wounds this world left on my soul
Will all be healed and I’ll be whole.
Sun and moon will be replaced
With the light of Jesus’ face
And I will not be ashamed
For my Savior knows my name.
It don’t matter where you bury me,
I’ll be home and I’ll be free.
It don’t matter where I lay,
All my tears be washed away.
Gold and silver blind the eye
Temporary riches lie
Come and eat from heaven’s store,
Come and drink, and thirst no more
It don’t matter where you bury me
I’ll be home and I’ll be free
It don’t matter where I lay
All my tears be washed away
So, weep not for me my friends,
When my time below does end
For my life belongs to Him
Who will raise the dead again.
It don’t matter where you bury me,
I’ll be home and I’ll be free.
It don’t matter where I lay,
All my tears be washed away.
(And that song itself reminds me of Rich Mullins’ song Elijah.
…Well, if they dressed me like a pauper
Or if they dined me like a prince
If they lay me with my fathers
Or if my ashes scatter on the wind
I don’t care
But when I leave I want to go out like Elijah
With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire
And when I look back on the stars
Well, It’ll be like a candlelight in Central Park
And it won’t break my heart to say goodbye …)
All My Tears makes me think of Samwise. Around Christmas he and I were able to talk about dying — driving in snow and closing conversations with aDios (to God, short for go to God) offer a natural opening for that sort of discussion. We were able to say, very much, that we would not mind dying. And to reassure each other that we would not worry in that event. Be sad, yes. Be delighted for the other, also yes. (And a word of reassurance here… we weren’t being suicidal or morbid or anything of the sort. We were just being honest.) Something about Christmas — maybe it’s Advent — makes me long for heaven anyway. But I wish I could honestly have that conversation with all of my friends, and be so confident that while to them, to live is Christ, to die will indeed be gain (for them, although it would be a sharp and bitter loss to us). For the pure in heart will see God.
It strikes me as strange that we don’t talk and wonder and dream of heaven so much more than we do. Do we shrink from the awe and the joy, the glory and the beauty? Or do we just forget? I certainly have no difficulty in anticipating something good on earth — going to Colonial Williamsburg, a quiz meet, communion Sunday, camp… and these are all so marred with sin that God could not even look at them without the righteousness of Christ. So why is it harder to look forward to — and talk about — the new heavens and the new earth? And I don’t mean that we need to “wonder” about it by buying every new Jenkins/LaHaye book that comes along, or in a church-splitting way, but looking forward to it. With wonder.
Better is one day in Your courts, than thousands elsewhere…
And here, finally, we come back to where I started with Andúnë’s point about Time. What is “one day” in the courts of God?
Better.
For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain…
Can you say that?
My wondering of the night: Will we — accepting CS Lewis’ premise that something about Time is unnatural to us — be instantly (whatever that means in a timeless setting) used to being outside the ravages of time? Or will we have to grow used to it, make silly mistakes in our speech, and all laugh?
Time could not be wasted in heaven, anyway, because there we will worship perfectly and fully — in all of life, not just corporate, formal worship… and that’s what we were created to do.
Worshiping God is never a waste of time.
In fact, it’s the only way to redeem the time. And… I could write a lot more about this subject, but I’m still a spirit with a pre-resurrection body, which is temporal and in need of sleep.
And I will not be ashamed, for my Savior knows my name.
