Sean G’s Thoughts

Over at his site, my bloggenbruder Sean G has posted some superb observations about the assumptions we make about certain aspects of life as they might be continued — or discontinued — in Heaven.

In this taut, sinewy post (which I highly recommend you read), Sean points out the, well, silliness (my word, not his) of the typical Christian view of what family, sleep, and adventure might look like after death for those who believe on Christ.

I remember a very respected Presbyterian pastor weeping during a sermon he preached when Mrs. Orr and I were in attendance. He said something to the effect that “I have a hard time understanding that my wife and I won’t be married when we get to Heaven, that we’ll just be co-heirs with Christ and will worship Him throughout eternity together. We’ll be like brother and sister, but on a deeper level. And this glorifies God!”

My wife and I looked at each other at this point, and I remember thinking, “Well, bull-shit. If that’s how the game is played, I want no part of it.” Why would marriage and family be so sacred here and be some husk, some piece of divine detritus when we die and arrive in the new heavens and new earth? Like so much of what passive Christians believe, this has never made sense to me.

Most churchgoers I know, especially the ones my age and older, hold on with formidable grip-strength to literal and nonsensical ideas about Heaven. Floating on clouds, Walking streets literally paved with gold. Walking around bellowing, “Hallelujah!” and “Praise the Lord!” to everyone one encounters. I remember sitting at a table with a pastor while visiting in Florida and listening to him hold forth on how Heaven was going to be “like the Lord’s Day, in church, except it never ends!” The thought, like that particular pastor, made my skin crawl.

I really responded to what Sean said about “endless adventure and bravery in the next life.” For me, the Norse concept of Valhalla is much, much, much more appealing than the churchy picture. To meet one’s foes and swing the sword at them in an even more glorious world where hummingbirds and sirloin steaks and thick books and onions and sunsets and flannel shirts and poetry and bacon all exist…along with the potential of hoisting a beer with those same foes later that evening over a huge fire, then falling with one’s spouse into a soft bed with frosty skies above…ah. Heavenly, indeed.

Like a lot of Bruce Charlton’s ideas about the spiritual life, Sean’s post imparted to me a sense of hope and enthusiasm. In these days of face masks and fear and lies and fatal passivity, hope and enthusiasm are as rare and precious as the materials that adorn the regalia of kings.

~ S.K. Orr