Heaven? I sure as hell hope it exists

Chances are I probably won’t make it to Heaven with you. You see, I’m not sure I believe in it anymore, but I sure as hell hope it exists.

While I like the thought of Heaven, I’ve personally never been too attached to the idea. I mean that to say, the idea of Heaven as a rewarding afterlife was not what attracted me to the gospel.
I came to Christianity because I was a teenage dreamer looking for guidance. More than wanting to know how to be “saved” I wanted to know how I was supposed to live.

As a teenager, I was moved by Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s earth-bound, Jesus-inspired message of love, liberation and disciplined nonviolence and inspired by Bob Marley’s captivating sound and prophetic, First Testament-infused lyrics. Other than the charity-focused hymnals of my Catholic school’s weekly masses, these two influential individuals were the chief sources that planted the seeds which led to my eventual interest in both Christianity and the Bible. They each eft indelible imprints on my understanding of life’s purpose and love’s power.

It was only after those initial introductions to the Christian faith that I began to think more about this place called Heaven. All my life I have had a hard time wrapping my mind around something as inexpressible as eternity. Sister Mary Ann, the Catholic nun who taught my fifth grade elementary school class, used to warn us not to worry our 11-year-old minds obsessing about either the beginning of the universe or the idea of eternity. She jokingly warned us that focusing too much on either extreme would surely drive us mad. How easily and often we toss around words like ‘forever’ and phrases like ‘until the end of time’ without really understanding the overwhelming weight of those concepts.

If you ask me, I think those concepts are beyond human comprehension. Which is why I have found it easier to focus on the world that I can experience with my physical senses. Even in my teenage years my prayers were frequent and repetitive requests for direction, protection and blessing as I walked these earthly roads.

I just don’t like dwelling on matters of excessive speculation- especially if there is no real way to investigate such matters. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t know of any human being who has ever died, gone to Heaven and returned to talk about it on Earth (But I’d love to hear any stories you might have).

But despite my reservations about Heaven, I can understand why getting there means so much to so many people- as evidenced by both ancient and modern belief systems that have focused much of their content on finding ways to get there. Life on earth can be difficult and hard. Not even Jesus could dodge the fact that people would suffer troubles and experience hurt during their stay here.

I suspect that most religions were born out of attempts to figure out how best to live in a world where pain and death were inevitable. In the face of such circumstances, it could even be said that the idea of Heaven is a display of religious genius.

Surely the idea of an eternal realm of rest, abundance and luxury means a lot to those who have experienced the horrors of injustice, scarcity and torture.

Surely the image of a place where every tear will be wiped away is very powerful and comforting one for us humans who are hard-wired for heartbreak.

Surely the thought of a place where we who have survived thus far can be reunited and reconciled with our loved ones who have “gone on to glory” sounds every bit like right- and may even keep us from going insane. I recall that shortly after the untimely death of his father, a close friend of mine told me that if he himself didn’t believe that he would someday see his father again in Heaven he thought he would lose his mind. The thought of Heaven helps him hold it all together. Without it, many of us would lose hope.

I understand this. Perhaps similar ideas have helped to bring the human species to where it is now.

I want to believe in a place like that. I really do. And maybe I haven’t been able to embrace it completely because I have yet to feel a pain that was deep enough.

Personally, I fear that too much focus on the hereafter cheapens and depreciates life in the here-and-now. I believe that obsessing about what will happen to us when our bodies stop breathing only robs us of the precious moments we are privileged to spend with each other. I don’t like worrying about things I can’t do anything about. But I know I can do something now…as long as I have breath.

I may not believe in Heaven anymore (and believe me, I would love to be surprised) but I swear that I will give you all that I have until the day of our departure.
To where…I don’t know.