HeavenEverything you wanted to know about Heaven
Everything
You Wanted to Know About Heaven
September
24, 2006
Text: 2 Corinthians
5:1-9
For we know that if the
earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a
house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 2 For in this tent
we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling—if indeed,
when we have taken it off we will not be found naked. For while we are
still in this tent, we groan under our burden, because we wish not to
be unclothed but to be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be
swallowed up by life. He who prepared this for us is God, who gives
us the Spirit as the guarantee.
So we are always confident;
even though we know that while we are at home in the body we are away
from the Lord — for we walk by faith, not by sight. 8 Yes, we do have
confidence, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with
the Lord. 9 So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to
please him.
NRSV
When
you die, what happens?
Well,
we remember from last week one possibility—ignoring what God’s asking
you to do results in a separation called “hell.”
What
about heaven?
It’s
been the source of dreaming and speculation. Some see it as a fancy
hotel where you’ll be waited upon, or a vacation resort
where you’ll be able to continue doing what you like doing here, just
without things like disease, old age, and death interfering. [Just hope
that if you’re a golfer you’re not mis-assigned to the “knitter’s”
area of heaven, or eternity will feel especially long!]
But
when I think about these images we conjure up about heaven, it strikes
me that we’re looking at heaven from the wrong perspective. I want
us to look at it differently, and what Paul says to us today helps us
do just that.
First,
let us pray…
Let
me begin by making this statement: I don’t especially like camping
out. It makes no sense to me. If you’re going to get away from home
and enjoy nature, go ahead and do it—but sleep in a place that has
a bed and a t.v.
I
camp out only for one reason—my son loves campouts, I love him, and
so I love the time we can spend together, camping out.
But
take Cameron out of camping out, and I’m in the Holiday Inn.
Last
fall we camped out at Buder park. 800 scouts and parents, in the mud
and the cold, with no flush plumbing, and trains blowing their horns
all through the night. But Cam said, “This is the best night ever!”
And…so it was.
On
another scout campout I shared a tent with a dad. It’d been a long
day. We got into the tent after 1 a.m. I settled into my cot, he settled
into his—and within a minute or two I heard [snore]…. I’m sure
the other dad was saying, “You know, Weeks coughed a lot last night.
I hope he’s OK.”
This
Friday is a fall campout once again for the scouts…Yea! But it WILL
be the best night ever.
Why
do I tell you this?
Because
I can relate to a phrase Paul used in today’s passage:
IN
THIS TENT WE GROAN…
The
tent Paul’s referring to is the one we carry with us, even into this
sanctuary this morning.
It’s
our flesh and blood—that’s the canvas of our tent. And that canvas
is getting older by the day.
What’s
amazing is that we start out in life believing this canvas is actually
brick. We think it can stand up to wind and rain and hail with no problem.
But
the older we get, the more worn the canvas grows. And we shall all “groan”
in this tent.
Which
is a good thing. Because it makes us focus our eyes on something
else.
I
imagine that Paul was camping out one night. He opened the flap of his
tent when he couldn’t sleep. He looked up into the stars, and there—in
the silence—the Spirit spoke to him.
The
Spirit revealed what I’ll call the “three parts of heaven.”
The
first thing Paul discovered is this:
WE
HAVE A HOME, not a tent.
For we know that if the
earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a
house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.
This
year we’re settling into our new building.
I
love it. I think it’s beautiful, and often I wonder what we ever did
without it. I hope you feel the same way. I know visitors do. We hosted
a preacher’s meeting this past week. Without exception my colleagues
said how much they were impressed by what we’ve done. [I made the
generous offer that if any of them gave us $2 million, we’d name it
after them. They’re thinking about it!]
But
as we settle into our new quarters, we might forget what it took to
get us there.
People
were just as careful and meticulous in Paul’s day.
They
might not have had fancy tools and materials, but they built things
to last. They used Palestinian limestone. It was hard, heavy, meticulous
work, but their buildings stood the test of time.
And
if we can so carefully build a building—and if builders in Paul’s
day can so carefully build a building: then what kind of a building
do you think God can build? What will the Architect of the universe
build for us—the same God who crafts the beauty of an ocean sunset
or the expanse of the Horseshoe Nebula?
The
writer of Revelation had a dream of it. He saw what he called the “New
Jerusalem,” and gave descriptions like this:
Rev 21:21
21 And [the city’s] twelve
gates are twelve pearls, each of the gates is a single pearl, and the
street of the city is pure gold, transparent as glass.
Do
you think our home is literally in a city like that? I don’t know.
But I do know it must be magnificent. I remember how one of our members
described it, just before she died: she opened her eyes wide and said,
“It’s beautiful! It’s beautiful!”
So
the first thing the Spirit says to Paul about heaven: WE HAVE A HOME—and
it must be beautiful.
But
there’s more.
Not
only do we have a home, but…
WE
HAVE A HOST.
He who prepared this for
us is God, who gives us the Spirit as the guarantee.
So we are always confident;
even though we know that while we are at home in the body we are away
from the Lord...
Heaven
is where we are not away from the Lord any longer. We are “at home”
with him. Isn’t that what Jesus meant when he said, before his death,
“I go and prepare a place for you—that where I am, you may be also.”
God
is not so much in the contracting business as much as God is in the
hosting business.
God
builds the house—but God also lives in the house. THAT is what makes
it heaven!
HEAVEN
WITHOUT A HOST IS A HOTEL WITHOUT A HEART.
Did
you hear the one about the man who died and went to heaven? He was met
at the Pearly Gates by St. Peter who led him down the golden streets.
They passed mansion after beautiful mansion until they came to the end
of the street where they stopped in front of a shack. “That’s where
you’ll live,” Peter said. “But why do I get a shack when there
are so many mansions I could live in?” Peter shrugged. “This is
the best I could do with the money you sent us.”
Jokes
like that perpetuate the image of heaven being the great Coldwell-Banker
or Remax or Century 21 or Gundaker in the sky. Live good, you’ll get
in. The better you live, the better neighborhood you’ll find yourself
in. Remember—location, location, location!
BUT…heaven
isn’t about being in a place.
Heaven
is about being with a person.
My
mother died when I was four. And in those years before my Dad remarried,
I was sometimes fearful of the night. I vividly remember getting into
my father’s bed, and curling up next to this big man I admired and
loved so much. I’d ask, “Daddy, will you tell me a story when you
were a little boy?” And he’d tell me something about growing up
on a farm in Mississippi. Before he’d finish, and I’d be fast asleep.
Heaven
is curling up next to the strong one who loves you totally, unconditionally:
it’s curling up next to him and asking, “Jesus, will you tell me
a story?” And hearing his voice, you know that everything is all right.
HEAVEN
WITHOUT A HOST IS A HOTEL WITHOUT A HEART.
Well,
there’s one final thing the Spirit revealed to Paul as he looked out
his tent that starry night.
In
heaven…
WE
HAVE A JOB.
We do have confidence, and
we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. 9 So
whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him.
On
earth or in heaven: “We make it our aim to please him.”
Where
in heaven’s name did we ever get the notion that heaven’s just about
“us”?
Heaven’s
not just about us.
Heaven
is about what God’s done for us, and how we should live, accordingly.
Are
we living in this life so we can get our room reservation guaranteed
in the next? In some “hotel without heart”?
OR
ARE WE LIVING TO PLEASE HIM?
There
was a man who died and found himself in a beautiful place, surrounded
by every conceivable comfort. A white-jacketed man came to him and said,
"You may have anything you choose--any food--any pleasure--any
kind of entertainment."
The
man was delighted, and for days he sampled all the delicacies and experiences
of which he had dreamed on Earth. But one day he grew bored with all
of it, and calling the attendant to him, he said, "I'm tired of
all this. I need something to do. What kind of work can you give me?"
The
attendant sadly shook his head and replied, "I'm sorry, sir. That's
the one thing we can't do for you. There is no work here for you."
To
which the man answered, "That's a fine thing. I might as well be
in hell."
The
attendant said softly, "Where do you think you are?"
--Rick Fields, Chop Wood,
Carry Water, NY:Putnams, 1984, p. 105.
Heaven—without
the ability to thank Jesus, without the ability to somehow serve him—isn’t
heaven at all.
Do
you think God gave you talents, gifts, insights to be used only in this
life? Do you think you’ve shaped and grown your soul in this life,
so you can be a celestial couch potato in the next? I don’t think
so!
True
joy—true happiness—lies in thanking Jesus, loving Jesus, serving
Jesus: now, then, and forever.
Period.
Years
ago I heard Billy Graham give his understanding of heaven. He believes
that heaven is going across the universe, telling inhabitants of other
worlds about the love of Jesus Christ.
This
is just a notion of the old evangelist—nothing in the Bible about
it. But you have to believe it came from the heart of someone who knew
that happiness lies, not in just “being” with the Lord, but by “doing”
something for the Lord.
As
the old hymn writer so eloquently put it,
“I’ll
praise my maker while I’ve breath; and when my voice is lost in death,
praise shall employ my nobler powers. My days of praise shall n’er
be past, while life and thought and being last, or immortality endures!”
The
three parts of heaven.
You
know where these reflections lead us?
To
one last one:
IF
YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT HEAVEN’S LIKE, THEN DON’T WORRY ABOUT LIFE
AFTER THIS ONE: WORRY ABOUT LIFE NOW.
You’ll
know what heaven’s like when you concern yourself—now—with
pleasing the one who made heaven possible.
You’ll
know what heaven’s like when you try to make this life a little more
like heaven for someone who needs it.
And
you’ll discover that life’s too short for all the heavenly differences
you can make in the lives of others.
That’s
OK. Don’t worry. WE HAVE ETERNITY!
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