A good friend of mine recently died of cancer. We both had a love for writing, missions, and family. We had similar views on religion and politics and enjoyed a good conversation.
Not long before he died, his wife called and said that her husband would like for me to come and see him. I felt honored by the request and guilty that I’d not initiated the visit myself.
Knowing I was visiting my friend for the last time, I wanted the visit to be honest, transparent, joyful, and thankful. While I went with some focus on the things I might say, I reminded myself to make sure I focused on what was most important—being present and listening.
That hour, I learned much about my friend and his life that I had never known. His humility kept many of his accomplishments hidden from me. The grief I felt at leaving was how superficial I’d kept many of our conversations. The richness of his life warranted a much deeper discussion, and I could have learned more from his life and experiences had I posed the right questions.
As my friend walked through the valley of the shadow of death, he was not afraid. He told me so. He had prayed many times to God to forgive him for his wrongdoings, and he was confident of God’s grace for his life.
During our visit, we both spoke of the mystery of heaven. Neither of us could say with much confidence what heaven would be like, expect to say what it would not be like—no more death, no more suffering, no more decay, no more anxiety, no more grief, no more war, no more worry, no more addictions, and the list goes on.
But what does one do in heaven for an eternity that makes it appealing to want to go there?
Upon returning home, I considered my friend’s questions about heaven and my own. Not knowing if my thoughts would be comforting, I took a chance to write him my thoughts on the subject. Instead of his name, I’ve used ” friend” in this letter.
Dear Friend,
As you make your final turn toward heaven, you and your family remain in my thoughts. I know you are not in any hurry to get there, but with each day, the reality of heaven and its mysteries must cross your mind as the cancer progresses.
I use the word “mystery” intentionally because heaven is just that to me. The thought of such a place mystifies me, if it is a place, as we define the word. Everything about it is beyond my comprehension. Where is heaven? What do we do there? What age are we in heaven? How do relationships with family work in heaven? Is there work for us to do there? If the resurrection of the body happens when Jesus returns, how can we also “go to heaven” at the moment of death?
The scriptures create a paradox on the latter question. From a scriptural perspective, both are true. The scriptures teach when Jesus returns, the dead in Christ will rise. The scriptures also teach that we are present with the Lord in heaven at the time of death. Jesus even told one thief on the cross next to him, “Today you will be with me in paradise.”
How can both be true? I’ve reconciled the issue in this way: When we die, we exit time. There are no clocks in heaven. Jesus does not wear a watch. God is not time-bound. God is present in the past, present now, and future. For those who have died, time is no longer needed to be measured.
No longer time-bound, the resurrection of the body (the Second Coming of Jesus) happens as if no time has passed. When we die, death and the Second Coming of Jesus become simultaneous experiences. Time collapses.
In Luke 8, Jairus, a synagogue leader, went to Jesus to ask him to come and heal his daughter, but before he could even ask, someone from the house came and informed him she was dead. Jesus went to the house anyway and told everyone that she was not dead but asleep. They laughed at him, but Jesus had the last laugh when he took her by the hand and said, “Child, get up,” and she returned to life.
Jesus used the phrase “asleep” to refer to death. The Apostle Paul used the same word in 1 Thessalonians 4 when he wrote of the Second Coming of Christ.
Is this how we should view our transition from one world to the next? When we die, is it like going to sleep and waking up in heaven?
This metaphor could help explain the gap the scriptures do not close between Paul’s admonition that to be absent in the body is to be present with the Lord (2 Corinthians 5:8) and the passage that shows that when Jesus returns, there will be a bodily resurrection of the dead in Christ (1 Thessalonians 4:16).
Reconciling these two passages, here is a metaphor that has helped me. The times I have had surgery and gone under anesthesia, I remember everything up to the point of being put under, and the next thing I remember is waking up in the recovery room with no memory of how much time elapsed. Was it an hour? Was it two? Was it ten? For some people who remain under sedation, it may be days.
Time passes on earth when we die, but there is no memory of it when we exit this time-bound space. Once we die, we are no longer time-bound. Time collapses, and everything God has promised to us comes to pass. There is no waiting—as far as we can tell—only the fulfillment of His promises and grace. We wake up to the grace the Holy Father promised to extend to us through Jesus Christ.
Does it work this way? I don’t know. I cannot prove it does, but this makes sense.
What’s more important is that we ultimately come to a position where we accept Christ through faith, the resurrection of Jesus through faith, and heaven through faith. Without the resurrection of Jesus, we have no hope. There would be no eternity, no hope beyond the grave. No heaven.
Accepting heaven by faith is like admitting that God created the world. There are many theories on how the creation of the world happened. The Bible does not tell us how God created the world. The Bible only uses metaphors to share how God created the heavens and the earth. Those stories/metaphors don’t stop our questions, curiosity, or our search for answers about how God did it. However, ultimately, we come back to faith. We conclude that God did it. We conclude that God spoke and created the world, “ex nihilo,” out of nothing.
Accepting heaven comes back to faith. God is God, and we are not. God gives us life here and in eternity, which we cannot provide ourselves.
But how can we KNOW heaven is real and be assured that heaven is a promised gift?
The Apostle Paul wrote to the Christians in Corinth that the Spirit is our assurance that heaven is absolute. While this assurance is difficult to explain to a nonbeliever, I know you understand after living your life with God’s Spirit.
Notice verse five from this passage in 2 Corinthians 5.
4 For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. 5 Now the one who has fashioned us for this very purpose is God, who has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come. 6 Therefore, we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body, we are away from the Lord. 7 For we live by faith, not by sight. 8 We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord. 9 So we make it our goal to please him, whether at home in the body or away from it. 10 For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each of us may receive what is due us for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad.
My friend, I trust that the Spirit of God will sustain you and your family in these final days/weeks/months of your life. God’s Spirit is your guarantee that heaven is real, even though you cannot yet see it or know what it will be like.
God’s Spirit has lived within you, guided you, befriended you, convicted you, loved you, forgiven you, assured you, comforted you, blessed you, and led you throughout your life.
As your friends, we have seen evidence of this. You have blessed us with the gifts God has given you. Thank you! I appreciate your friendship, and I will miss our time together.
May the Spirit of God remain with you, give you peace, comfort your family, and provide for all your needs.
You are loved. Until we meet again in God’s eternal world.
Your friend,
Michael Helms
Photo Credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/texture-heaven-clouds-wind-storm-699696/