Jesus in the Starting Blocks

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     I can’t see heaven from here.

     Try as I might, strain as I will, the glory escapes me. I squint to see what the other John saw in the Revelation, but as soon as I look down onto the pages of my Bible, I lose sight of what is above. I’ve stood on mountaintops many thousands of feet above sea level, but thought mostly of the toil it took to get there. I’ve traveled in aircraft six miles up with clouds far below, but thought mostly about how presumptuous it is to move so high and so fast.

     By day the sun is too intense to look upon. By night the moon is a mocking reflection. Faraway stars twinkle and tease – though others find lions and hunters and bears by connecting the shimmering dots, I take one Big Dip and I’m done. And the heavens return to returning a blank stare.

     At some point in my childhood I heard a preacher describe Jesus’ present posture in heaven. Jesus, presumably, is coiled up like a sprinter in the starting blocks, waiting for the Father, at a moment known only to him, to fire the pistol. For, like, two thousand years so far. Sounds exhausting to me. I’ll bet Jesus has better things to do. The image of Jesus in the blocks returns (unbidden) to my recall at times, but I put no stock in it. And heaven gets farther away.

     Help a brother out, here?

     I’ve been reading some old, old writing lately. Early Seventeenth Century – how’s that for retro? The author, one Jeremiah Burroughs – a Puritan preacher who gained and lost various degrees of distinction over his 46 years on this earth – proposes that there is greater satisfaction to be had in this walk-around world, and in this mortal life, than in the world and life to come.

     Oh, perish the thought!

     To be fair, his theory is that obedience to God in a disobedient generation (meaning, any generation) sets up a better-than-heaven-on-earth scenario; an isle of contentment can be had in a raging sea of sin and debauchery. He posits that seeking God’s purposes in the midst of temptation is better than being plugged into God’s purposes when there is no choice. But the question I’m itching to ask Brother Burroughs is, “How the heck could you have known?” He knows now, gone to heaven these 378 years. Maybe he knows, now, he was wrong then.

     “On earth as it is in heaven…” (Matthew 6:10). Of all the things Jesus could have taught us to pray, this is one of the very few he chose. Leads me to believe that earth contains precisely as much heaven as we pray into it. That – ahead of the rightful King’s return – his little brothers and sisters will see only as much heaven as they drag down to examine at arm’s length. Mountains are worth climbing, and flying through thin air is great fun, but if Jesus is to be believed, climbing and flying and gazing into the heavens aren’t the best ways to catch a glimpse. Maybe heaven is closer than I thought, and easier to see.

     “…having the eyes of your heart enlightened, that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you…” (Ephesians 1:18). Of all the things Paul the apostle prayed for us, this – breathing in the words God breathed out – is one of the many he prayed. As it turns out, I’ve been using the wrong organs for looking into heaven. My natural eyes are subject to the grit and smoke and fog of the atmosphere – the very heavens conspire against my seeing them. Praise God: there’s a better way of seeing.

     Disagree if you wish, but I’m convinced that the grit and smoke and fog here below are all part of the divine plan, meant to make us concentrate. I’m convinced that if we had all of heaven right now, it would be a terrific letdown. Though I found this quote in a novel, by a fictional character, it bears considering: “We’ve all got to go through just enough to kill us.” Why should it be otherwise? And, thank God, since we who are saved won’t be touched by the second death, we don’t have to go through twice as much as it takes.

     If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory (Colossians 3:1-4).

     Kay and I recently re-watched “Hidden Figures,” a movie about the lesser known yet indispensable contributors to early space travel at NASA. The crescendo comes when the team of mathematicians correctly calculates the re-entry path and returns Astronaut John Glenn safely home – a task that had been described as being like “shooting a sawed-off shotgun and putting one pellet through a pinhole at a thousand yards – on purpose.” One of the mathematicians, Katherine Johnson, was then asked by her boss, “So, do you think we can get to the moon?” To which Katherine replied, “We’re already there.”

     Well, whaddya know? I done died and gone to heaven! Like it already happened. According to Colossians 3:3, and in a sense that I only grasp occasionally, it already has. With the eyes of my heart enlightened, the glimpses will come more often – right here, at arm’s length.

 

Thanks for the help, Church.

 

 Grace and Peace (on earth as it is in heaven),

 

John