Page 3 of Heaven


  Theologian Reinhold Niebuhr wrote an in-depth two-volume set titled The Nature and Destiny of Man. Remarkably, he had nothing to say about Heaven.20 William Shedd's three-volume Dogmatic Theology contains eighty-seven pages on eternal punish­ment, but only two on Heaven.21

  While Christians still accept heaven as an article of faith, their vigor in defining the nature of eternal life has much diminished. In spite of the current revival of religious interest in America and Europe, the desire to discuss the details of heavenly existence remains a low priority.

  COLLEEN MCDANNELL and BERNHARD LANG

  In his nine-hundred-page theology, Great Doctrines of the Bible, Martyn Lloyd-Jones devotes less than two pages to the eternal state and the New Earth.22

  Louis Berkhof s classic Systematic Theology devotes thirty-eight pages to cre­ation, forty pages to baptism and communion, and fifteen pages to what theologians call "the intermediate state" (where people abide between death and resurrection). Yet it contains only two pages on Hell and one page on the eternal state.

  When all that's said about the eternal Heaven is limited to page 737 of a 737-page systematic theology like Berkhof's, it raises a question: Does Scrip ture really have so little to say? Are there so few theological implications to this subject? The biblical answer, I believe, is an emphatic no!

  In The Eclipse of Heaven, theology professor A. J. Conyers writes, "Even to one without religious commitment and theological convictions, it should be an unsettling thought that this world is attempting to chart its way through some of the most perilous waters in history, having now decided to ignore what was for nearly two millennia its fixed point of reference—its North Star. The certainty of judgment, the longing for heaven, the dread of hell: these are not prominent con­siderations in our modern discourse about the important matters of life. But they once were."23

  Conyers argues that until recently the doctrine of Heaven was enormously important to the church.24 Belief in Heaven was not just a nice auxiliary senti­ment. It was a central, life-sustaining conviction.

  Sadly, even for countless Christians, that is no longer true.

  OFF OUR RADAR SCREENS

  "An overwhelming majority of Americans continue to believe that there is life after death and that heaven and hell exist," according to a Barna Research Group poll.25 But what people actually believe about Heaven and Hell varies widely. A Barna spokesman said, "They're cutting and pasting religious views from a variety of different sources—television, movies, conversations with their friends."26 The result is a highly subjective theology of the afterlife, discon­nected from the biblical doctrine of Heaven.

  I attended a fine Bible college and seminary, but I learned very little about Heaven. I don't recall a single classroom discussion about the New Earth. In my Hebrews-to-Revelation class, we never made it to Revelation 21-22, the Bible's most definitive passage on the eternal Heaven. In my eschatology class, we studied various views of the Rapture and the Millennium, but almost no attention at all was given to the New Earth. In fact, I learned more about the strengths and weaknesses of belief in a mid-Tribulation Rapture than about Heaven and the New Earth combined.

  Heaven suffers as a subject precisely because it comes last, not only in theo­logical works but in seminary and Bible college classrooms. Teachers often get behind in their eschatology classes, enmeshed in the different views of Hell, Is­rael and the church, the Tribulation, and the Millennium. No time is left for discussing the new heavens and New Earth.

  Imagine you're part of a NASA team preparing for a five-year mission to Mars. After a period of extensive training, the launch date finally arrives. As the rocket lifts off, one of your fellow astronauts says to you, "What do you know about Mars?"

  Imagine shrugging your shoulders and saying, "Nothing. We never talked about it. I guess we'll find out when we get there." It's unthinkable, isn't it? It's inconceivable that your training would not have included extensive study of and preparation for your ultimate destination. Yet in seminaries, Bible schools, and churches across the United States and around the world, there is very little teaching about our ultimate destination: the new heavens and New Earth.

  Many Christians who've gone to church all their adult lives (especially those under fifty) can't recall having heard a single sermon on Heaven. It's oc­casionally mentioned, but rarely emphasized, and almost never is it developed as a topic. We're told how to get to Heaven, and that it's a better destination than Hell, but we're taught remarkably little about Heaven itself.

  Pastors may not think it's important to address the subject of Heaven be­cause their seminary didn't have a required course on it—or even an elective. Similarly, when pastors don't preach on Heaven, their congregations assume that the Bible doesn't say much about it.

  In 1937, Scottish theologian John Baillie wrote, "I will not ask how often during the last twenty-five years you and I have listened to an old-style warning against the flames of hell. I will not even ask how many sermons have been preached in our hearing about a future day of reckoning when men shall reap according as they have sown. It will be enough to ask how many preachers, dur­ing these years, have dwelt on the joys of heavenly rest with anything like the old ardent love and impatient longing."27

  If this was the case then, how much truer is it now? Heaven has fallen off our radar screens. How can we set our hearts on Heaven when we have an im­poverished theology of Heaven? How can we expect our children to be excited about Heaven—or to stay excited about it when they grow up? Why do we talk so little about Heaven? And why is the little we have to say so vague and lifeless?

  WHERE DO WE GET OUR

  MISCONCEPTIONS?

  I believe there's one central explanation for why so many of God's children have such a vague, negative, and uninspired view of Heaven: the work of Satan.

  Jesus said of the devil, "When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies" (John 8:44). Some of Satan's favorite lies are about Heaven. Revelation 13:6 tells us the satanic beast "opened his mouth to blas­pheme God, and to slander his name and his dwelling place and those who live in heaven." Our enemy slanders three things: God's person, God's people, and God's place—namely, Heaven.†

  After being forcibly evicted from Heaven (Isaiah 14:12-15), the devil be­came bitter not only toward God, but toward mankind and toward Heaven it­self, the place that was no longer his. It must be maddening for him that we're now entitled to the home he was kicked out of. What better way for the devil and his demons to attack us than to whisper lies about the very place on which God tells us to set our hearts and minds?

  Satan need not convince us that Heaven doesn't exist. He need only con­vince us that Heaven is a place of boring, unearthly existence. If we believe that lie, we'll be robbed of our joy and anticipation, we'll set our minds on this life and not the next, and we won't be motivated to share our faith. Why should we share the "good news" that people can spend eternity in a boring, ghostly place that even we're not looking forward to?

  In The Country of the Blind, H. G. Wells writes of a tribe in a remote valley deep in a towering mountain range. During a terrible epidemic, all the villagers lose their sight. Eventually, entire generations grow up having no awareness of sight or the world they're unable to see. Because of their handicap, they do not know their true condition, nor can they understand what their world looks like. They cannot imagine what realms might lie beyond their valley.

  Spiritually speaking, we live in the Country of the Blind. The disease of sin has blinded us to God and Heaven, which are real yet unseen. Fortunately, Jesus has come to our valley from Heaven to tell us about his father, the world be­yond, and the world to come. If we listen to him—which will require a con­certed effort not to listen to the lies of the devil—we will neverbe the same. Nor will we ever want to be.

  Satan hates the New Heaven and the New Earth as much as a deposed dic­tator hates the new nation and new government that replaces his. Satan cannot sto
p Christ's redemptive work, but he can keep us from seeing the breadth and depth of redemption that extends to the earth and beyond. He cannot keep Christ from defeating him, but he can persuade us that Christ's victory is only partial, that God will abandon his original plan for mankind and the earth.

  Because Satan hates us, he's determined to rob us of the joy we'd have if we believed what God tells us about the magnificent world to come.

  RESISTING NATURALISM'S SPELL

  C. S. Lewis depicts another source of our misconceptions about Heaven: natu­ralism, the belief that the world can be understood in scientific terms, without recourse to spiritual or supernatural explanations.

  In The Silver Chair, Puddleglum, Jill, and Eustace are captured in a sunless underground world by an evil witch who calls herself the queen of the under­world. The witch claims that her prisoners' memories of the overworld, Narnia, are but figments of their imagination. She laughs condescendingly at their child's game of "pretending" that there's a world above and a great ruler of that world.

  When they speak of the sun that's visible in the world above, she asks them what a sun is. Groping for words, they compare it to a giant lamp. She replies, "When you try to think out clearly what this sun must be, you cannot tell me. You can only tell me it is like the lamp. Your sun is a dream; and there is nothing in that dream that was not copied from the lamp."

  When they speak of Asian the lion, king of Narnia, she says they have seen cats and have merely projected those images into the make-believe notion of a giant cat. They begin to waver.

  The queen, who hates Asian and wishes to conquer Narnia, tries to deceive them into thinking that whatever they cannot perceive with their senses must be imaginary—which is the essence of naturalism. The longer they are unable to see the world they remember, the more they lose sight of it.

  She says to them, hypnotically, "There never was any world but mine," and they repeat after her, abandoning reason, parroting her deceptions. Then she coos softly, "There is no Narnia, no Overworld, no sky, no sun, no Asian." This illustrates Satan's power to mold our weak minds as we are trapped in a dark, fallen world. We're prone to deny the great realities of God and Heaven, which we can no longer see because of the Curse.

  Finally, when it appears they've succumbed to the queen's lies, Puddleglum breaks the spell and says to the enraged queen, "Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things—trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Asian himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that . . . the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that's a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We're just babies making up a game, if you're right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow."28

  The truth is exactly the opposite of naturalism's premise—in fact, the dark world's lamps are copies of the sun, and its cats are copies of Asian. Heaven isn't an extrapolation of earthly thinking; Earth is an extension of Heaven, made by the Creator King. The realm Puddleglum and the children believe in, Narnia and its sun and its universe, is real, and the witch's world—which she tempts them to believe is the only real world—is in fact a lesser realm, corrupted and in bondage.

  When the queen's lies are exposed, she metamorphoses into the serpent she really is, whereupon Rilian, the human king and Asian's appointed ruler of Narnia, slays her. The despondent slaves who'd lived in darkness are delivered. Light floods in, and their home below becomes a joyous place again because they realize there is indeed a bright world above and Asian truly rules the uni­verse. They laugh and celebrate, turning cartwheels and popping firecrackers.

  Sometimes we're like Lewis's characters. We succumb to naturalistic as­sumptions that what we see is real and what we don't see isn't. God can't be real, we conclude, because we can't see him. And Heaven can't be real because we can't see it. But we must recognize our blindness. The blind must take by faith that there are stars in the sky. If they depend on their ability to see, they will conclude there are no stars.

  We must work to resist the bewitching spell of naturalism. Sitting here in a dark world, we must remind ourselves what Scripture tells us about Heaven. We will one day be delivered from the blindness that separates us from the real world. We'll realize then the stupefying bewitchment we've lived under. By God's grace, may we stomp out the bewitching fires of naturalism so that we may clearly see the liberating truth about Christ the King and Heaven, his Kingdom.

  † The NASB supplies words not in the original (here, in italics), which make the three things that Satan slanders appear to be only two: "And he opened his mouth in blasphemies against God, to blaspheme His name and His tabernacle, that is, those who dwell in heaven." It equates God's dwelling place, his Tabernacle, with the people who live in Heaven. Hence it retains the two familiar ideas of the objects of Satan's slander—God and his people—while not recognizing the less familiar one, God's dwelling place, Heaven. The NASB reading offers an alternative understanding of the passage.

  CHAPTER 2

  IS HEAVEN BEYOND OUR IMAGINATION?

  To speak of "imagining heaven" does not imply or entail that heaven is a fictional notion, constructed by deliberately disregarding the harsher realities of the everyday world. It is to affirm the critical role of the God-given human capacity to construct and enter into mental pictures of divine reality, which are mediated through Scripture and the subsequent tradition of reflection and development. We are able to inhabit the mental images we create, and thence anticipate the delight of finally entering the greater reality to which they correspond.

  Alister McGrath

  When Marco Polo returned to Italy from the court of Kublai Khan, he de­scribed a world his audience had never seen—one that could not be understood without the eyes of imagination. Not that China was an imaginary realm, but it was very different from Italy. Yet as two locations on planet Earth inhabited by human beings, they had much in common. The reference points of Italy allowed a basis for understanding China, and the differences could be spelled out from there.29

  The writers of Scripture present Heaven in many ways, including as a gar­den, a city, and a kingdom. Because gardens, cities, and kingdoms are familiar to us, they afford us a bridge to understanding Heaven. However, many people make the mistake of assuming that these are merely analogies with no actual correspondence to the reality of Heaven (which would make them poor analo­gies). Analogies can be pressed too far, but because Scripture makes it clear that Jesus is preparing a place for us, and God's Kingdom will come to Earth, and a physical resurrection awaits us, there is no reason to spiritualize or allegorize all earthly descriptions of Heaven. Indeed, some of them may be simple, factual statements. Too often we've been taught that Heaven is a non-physical realm, which cannot have real gardens, cities, kingdoms, buildings, banquets, or bod­ies. So we fail to take seriously what Scripture tells us about Heaven as a famil­iar, physical, tangible place.

  As human beings, whom God made to be both physical and spiritual, we are not designed to live in a non-physical realm—indeed, we are incapable of even imagining such a place (or, rather, non-place). An incorporeal state is not only unfamiliar to our experience, it is also incompatible with our God-given consti­tution. We are not, as Plato supposed, merely spiritual beings temporarily en­cased in bodies. Adam did not become a "living being"—the Hebrew word nephesh—until he was both body and spirit (Genesis 2:7). We are physical be­ings as much as we are spiritual beings. That's why our bodily resurrection is es­sential to endow us with eternal righteous humanity, setting us free from sin, the Curse, and death.

  THE IMPORTANCE OF USING OUR IMAGINATION

  We cannot anticipate or desire what we cannot imagine. That's why, I believe, God has given us glimpses of Heaven in the Bible—to fire up our imagination and kindle a desire for Heaven in our hearts. And that's why Satan will always discourage our imagin
ation—or misdirect it to ethereal notions that violate Scripture. As long as the resurrected universe remains either undesirable or un­imaginable, Satan succeeds in sabotaging our love for Heaven.

  After reading my novels that portray Heaven, people often tell me, "These pictures of Heaven are exciting. But are they based on Scripture?" The answer, to the best of my understanding, is yes. Scripture provides us with a substantial amount of information, direct and indirect, about the world to come, with enough detail to help us envision it, but not so much as to make us think we can completely wrap our minds around it. I believe that God expects us to use our imagination, even as we recognize its limitations and flaws. If God didn't want us to imagine what Heaven will be like, he wouldn't have told us as much about it as he has.

  Rather than ignore our imagination, I believe we should fuel it with Scrip­ture, allowing it to step through the doors that Scripture opens. I did not come to the Bible with the same view of Heaven that I came away with. On the con­trary, as a young Christian, and even as a young pastor, I viewed Heaven in the same stereotypical ways I now reject. It was only through years of scriptural study, meditation, and research on the subject that I came to the view of Heaven I now embrace.

  Nearly every notion of Heaven I present in this book was stimulated and re­inforced by biblical texts. Though some of my interpretations and speculations are no doubt mistaken, they are not baseless. Rightly or wrongly, I have drawn most of them from my understanding of the explicit and implicit teachings of Scripture. Discussions of Heaven tend to be either hyperimaginative or utterly unimaginative. Bible believers have tended toward the latter, yet both ap­proaches are inadequate and dangerous. What we need is a biblically inspired imagination.