Heaven: The Abode of Love

I am about to undertake a risky adventure, namely preaching about heaven. That adventure will occupy my heart for the next three Sundays at Seneca Presbyterian Church. I enter the adventure fully aware that its risk lies on multiple fronts. Heaven is something we all contemplate. Exploring the mystery of what happens to us when physical life ceases is a basic human instinct. We each have our images and hopes based on what we have read or been taught or overheard in passing conversations. Even children can speculate on what or where or how heaven is, and they seem to have a delicious freedom in so doing.

The older we get the more serious the issue becomes. We begin losing people who are important to us and we want to know what has happened to them and where they might be. We long to stay connected. We cherish the assurance that we will one day be reunited. And we begin to wonder for ourselves just what our own “next journey” will be. So first of all, preaching about heaven runs the risk of disturbing personal images of something profoundly significant.

Second of all, what one believes about heaven impacts greatly what one believes about God. If heaven is the abode of the Almighty, it is up to God just who is there and who is not. Yet many of us already believe we know who is there and who is not. Allowing ourselves to speculate about that imponderable question runs the risk of challenging cherished beliefs. But I also believe it can deepen our understanding of who God is and how God does.   

Philosophers and theologians have long speculated about heaven, and have invested much ink in sharing those speculations with us common folk. They have the time and wisdom to offer point and counterpoint, and even to reject each other’s arguments. I can easily get lost in the whirlwind!

Yet as someone who does desire to ground my understanding of heaven in the biblical witness, I’ve been aided by the writings of N.T. Wright, particularly in his Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church (HarperCollins, 2008). As a consequence, what at first seemed an intimidating challenge has actually proven to be an enlightening journey. I hope I can share something about that journey in this series of sermons. In the process, I think our idea of heaven will be expanded rather than diminished.

But ultimately, preaching about heaven is risky because no one knows for certain the what and where and how and who. We can read accounts of near death experiences and find them credible or not. But even if we do see them as credible, they can only provide us with a faint glimpse of an immeasurable glory. We still see in a mirror dimly.  Perhaps that is all we are meant to see.

I attempt the risk of preaching about heaven because so many of the saints of Seneca Presbyterian have or will soon take that journey. Walking with them is such a blessing to me, even with the loss that it represents. I intend to begin, end, and frequently remind them of this disclaimer: Heaven is where God is, and where God is, there is heaven. Beyond that all details are speculation and faith. Your speculation and your faith are just as valid as mine.

But I believe the journey is worth taking. Mitch Albom, author of The Five People You Meet in Heaven, says it well:

There's one thing I would say about heaven. If you believe that there's a heaven, your life here on earth is different. You may believe that you're going to see your loved ones again. So the grief that you had after they're gone isn't as strong. You may believe that you'll have to answer for your actions. So the way you behave here on earth is changed. So in a certain way, just believing in the idea of heaven is heavenly in and of itself.

Yet I believe there is much more. The risky adventure begins Sunday.

Preaching for the Long Haul

Disclaimer: This is NOT my next sermon series
no matter how creative! 

Our group of faithful seekers took a bit of a break this week. Instead of pondering the text for Sunday and seeking to find ourselves in it, we looked at preaching in general. The ostensible reason was simple. I needed some help in planning for the long season of “ordinary time.” That’s the season in the church year that falls between Pentecost and Advent.

When this church year began last December, I had committed to following the lectionary in order to see just what disciplines lectionary preaching could instill in me. But when you hit “ordinary time,” the challenge mounts. Yes – there are two choices for ordinary time. One that works through the Gospel assigned for the year – this year it’s Matthew – and one that works through major portions of the Hebrew Scriptures. So – do the saints of Seneca Presbyterian Church want to listen to Matthew or Genesis and Exodus for twenty long weeks? If you seek to break up that long stretch, how to you break away from a story and then come back to it? Aren’t you going to miss major pieces of it?  I hope you see the preacher’s dilemma.

One of the reasons I enjoy meeting with the faithful seekers each week is that they keep me grounded in reality. As fascinating as the patriarchal and matriarchal narratives of Genesis are, the faithful worshipper in the pew isn’t really interested in JEDP. (That’s seminary jargon for the source narratives underlying the Torah texts of Hebrew Scripture.) It’s not at all surprising that our conversation this past week turned instead toward “series preaching.” Isn’t that a good option for the summer, we thought.

So we began speaking of the questions that touch our lives, particularly as a congregation full of “over sixty-somethings.” How do we find joy and purpose in later life? What happens to our lives when our relationships with our children change? Are we ready to be the ones who need to receive instead of give – especially when many of us are still the ones giving and caring for our own parents? Is there a clear moment when those roles reverse? How can those who have always been the ones ready to help become the ones asking for it? And how can the ones who are accustomed to receiving be ready to give?

Is it any wonder that we are also fascinated by heaven and what we can or cannot know about what comes after this life?

We did not come up with any definitive plans for preaching during ordinary time. But still the conversation was a blessing. First of all, I am reminded that preaching really matters. It can offer us not only understanding and faith, but also wisdom for living our lives faithfully. Secondly, it gave me wonderful food for thought about what is important for at least this small group of “my people.” Yes- it left me with a great challenge. How do you preach effectively in ways that truly touch lives? The Holy Spirit has to help, taking feeble words and enabling them to be heard.

But you can also help me. What sermons have you heard that touched you or gave you new direction? How did it happen? How can it happen again?