TRYING TO MAKE HEAVEN MY HOME
May 13, 2001

TEXT: Revelation:21:1-6

A middle-aged woman made her way into an apartment building and up to the twelfth floor. As she arrived, she rang the doorbell impatiently. The door opened mysteriously, and she was welcomed by the smell of incense and smoke. She entered and was greeted by a young girl in a veil and dressed in flowing silky gowns who announced her presence by sounding of a huge gong. With that the young girl asked, “Do you wish to see the all-knowing, all-powerful, wonderful one, Maharishi Narru?”
“Yeah,” the woman said, “Tell Sheldon his mother is here!”

Happy Mother's Day. The right kind of mother can make life like a little bit of Heaven on Earth--and sometimes Hell. John the Divine, in his celestial vision, “saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more.” He heard the voice of God saying, “See, the home of God is among mortals. God will dwell with them; they will be God’s people, and God will be with them and will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.”

There’s an old story that’s been kicking around in clergy sermon files for years. A fire and brimstone preacher asks his congregation, “How many of you here want to go to heaven?” They all put their hands up. That is, everyone but a ten-year-old boy. The preacher looks at him and says “Don’t you want to go to heaven when you get old and die?” “Well, yes sir,” says the boy, “but I thought you were trying to round up a group to go now.”

Well, like the old spiritual says, “Everybody talkin’ ‘bout heaven ain’t going there.” Just where is heaven? And if John is talking about a new heaven, then what about the old one? What’s wrong with heaven as it exists now, if it is our idea of a state of perfection?

People who have gotten so used to looking at the negative side of life cannot see the potential for greatness. There are those who have become so crisis-oriented that their sensitivities to the human condition are dulled. I have talked with social workers who suffer from compassion fatigue. They see so much of life’s darker side that they desperately need a new perspective or they become immune to the tales of tragedy and despair. We are not always able to change the situations in which we find ourselves, but we can always change how we will react to those situations.

We will always find what we are looking for. If we expect life to be tragic, it will be. If we regard people as spiteful, greedy, and unloving, they will be. If we do not believe in God, God will not exist for us. How much do we shape our own realities and build the worlds we live in? If only we could see the world as God intends for it to be; to share in God’s vision of the new heaven and the new earth.

I remembered the scene from Thornton Wilder’s play, Our Town, where Emily, who has died in childbirth, is given the opportunity to go back to a particular day in her past. She chooses her twelfth birthday. Thinking of the life she has lived and of her failure to appreciate its significance, she exclaims:
It goes so fast. We don't have time to look at one another I didn't realize. So all that was going on and we never noticed One more look. Good-by. Good-by, world. Good-by, Grover's Corners Mama and Papa. Good-by to clocks ticking. . . and Mama's sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new ironed dresses and hot-baths. . . and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you. Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? Every, every minute.

The answer is, “Of course not” So much of life is lost in the living of it. I wouldn't be surprised if the Last Judgment is the judgment we are forced to make on ourselves as we review our lives: the lost opportunities, the people we ignored, the causes we neglected to support, the words spoken in haste or in anger, the persons we offended or failed to forgive, the friend or relative with whom we remain unreconciled, the Christ whose presence we kept from our lives. Must we wait until we have passed into the next world to realize the opportunities we have in this one?

The Bible tries to teach us that heaven is a present reality as well as a future hope, but we seem too intent on preparing for the next life that we miss the meaning and purpose of this one, much like the American tourist in Paris who spends all his time reading the tour book and travel brochures about Rome, the next stop on the itinerary. Preparing for the future is important, but not when it prevents us from living in the present.

St. John promises a new heaven. Where is heaven? In his story, The Fugitive, the Indian writer, Tagore, tells of the father who returns home from the funeral of his wife. His boy of seven stood at the window, his eyes wide open and a golden amulet hanging from his neck; a boy with thoughts too difficult for his age. His father took him in his arms and the boy asked, “Where is mother?” “In heaven,” answered his father, pointing to the sky. The boy raised his eyes to the sky and long gazed in silence. His bewildered mind sent abroad into the night the question, “Where is heaven?” No answer came, and the stars seemed liked the burning tears of that ignorant darkness.

We live in a world of time and space, and therefore we tend to think of heaven in terms of location. In the realm of the spirit, there is no time, no space. The spiritual world exists in the midst of the physical world; it's a different kind of reality.

To the thief on the cross, Jesus promised, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” But creatures who dwell in time do not know what “today” means to the dwellers of heaven. We can take comfort from the vision of John. But what does it mean to speak of streets that are paved with gold in a world in which things exist in a spiritual rather than a physical state? We cannot measure the New Jerusalem with an earthly yardstick. All we can do is trust in the God who offers us his presence in all possible worlds. Jesus speaks of heaven as a relationship with God. We experience heaven now when God's spirit is apparent to us. We experience hell when we deprive ourselves of God's presence.

The New Jerusalem is the church, and the message that the church bears to the world is that God is with us. Instead of trying to make heaven our home, we should try to make our homes more like heaven. The purpose of living is to enjoy the presence of God. We are not to seek the rewards of Paradise or avoid the torments of hell, but simply to know and love God. “The home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them as their God; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them.”
An unknown seventh century mystic summarized it in this short prayer:

O my Lord God, the stars are shining and the eyes of men are closed, and kings have shut their eyes, and every lover is alone with his beloved, and here I am alone with Thee. O my Lord God, if I worship Thee for fear of hell, burn me in hell. And if I worship Thee in hope of Paradise, exclude me from Paradise, but if I worship Thee for Thine own sake, then withhold not from me Thine eternal beauty.
Eternal life is to know God and when we know God, the former things are not so important after all. When we know the love of God, we are home.

-Harry Serio