Somewhere awhile ago I read a quote which went along the lines of “Behave in such a way that only makes sense if you believe in God”, or something like that. This is a notion that fascinates me. Since I do believe in God, and since I have my whole life, and since I think about this All The Time, I’d like to assume that some of my behavior at least reflects that a little bit. But who knows? I spend a lot more time inside my head than I do watching me, and who knows what habits I’ve picked up, what mental ticks I’ve incorporated into my life?
I believe in a God who creates out of love- am I receptive to love? Am I loving?
I believe in a God who is eternally forgiving- am I forgiving of myself? Do I forgive others easily?
I believe in a God who places the greatest value in “the least of these”- where do I place my greatest value? What parts of myself do I polish, what parts do I let languish?
I believe in a God who takes tremendous joy in diversity, in finding new ways to express His creativity, his boundless love- do I seek out and explore all that is new to me and which I don’t know? Do I open myself to it with awe, or shut myself down with fear?
I believe in a God who invites us to dance with him, to learn the dance and teach the dance. Do I accept the invitation?
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I also read recently (I think in Slate) an article about Heaven. It was not a particularly impressive article- I mean, it basically said that the majority of Americans believe in Heaven, the majority disagree about what Heaven is, and no one has any scientific proof of Heaven. Since this article is basically going over the discovery I think every kid in my church made around the age of 8, I’m not going to take the time to dig it up and link it. But one aspect of the article got me to thinking-
The writer implied that it is our desire to see our dead loved ones that motivates our desire for a heaven (and, implicitly, it motivates our need to make one up).
I am testing that out in my heart right now. I’m thinking of my loved ones who are dead (or even who I’ve lost touch with so completely I don’t even know how to find them). I’ve experienced deaths- deaths of friends, deaths of family members, deaths by stroke, by car accident, by drug overdose, by suicide, by murder, by stupidity, by cancer. I’ve experienced them early on and recently, and maybe I have experienced them early enough and frequently enough to be numbed by it, but the one thing that I feel certain of is that even though the physical presence- the words, the lips, the hands, the eyes, the laugh, the gait- even though all of that is gone, I don’t feel- at least not totally- alienated from my dead loved ones. I write this even know feeling my grandmothers’ smile on me, the laughter of various aunts, the guiding hands of departed friends. I don’t think my dead are saints- I think they love to watch me bluster and fall and make an idiot of myself, and love to tease me. But I think my dead love me and look out for me. I think they want whats best for me. I think they don’t worry too much.
So yeah, I want to see my beloved dead after I die. But that’s not why I personally want Heaven.
I want heaven so I can meet God. That’s basically it. I miss God. I love God. Maybe I’m totally insane and delusional. But I think God misses me too. And this is why I crave heaven. I crave the heart of the deepest mystery, the greatest joy, of my entire life.
That is also not emperical proof, I recognize. I’m just writing it because I think that is how it is.
