Pastor Lance's Sermon 5/9/2010

“Eternal Life:  What Do We Mean?”

 (a sermon based on I Corinthians 15:3-55, page 1048 in our pew Bible)

A PARABLE ABOUT LIFE by Rev. Dr. Norman Vincent Peale ("Guideposts")

by

Rev. Dr. Paul A. Lance, Pastor

Los Altos United Church of Christ

5550 Atherton, Long Beach, California  90815

May 9, 2010 – Mother’s Day

          On this fifth Sunday after Easter, we find ourselves still speaking (in a deep way) about the meaning of resurrection, eternal life and life-after-death.

Last week, when we talked about the death of Lazarus, Jesus’ friend, we acknowledged the stages of grieving that everyone goes through when a loved one dies: there’s denial, anger, bargaining, depression, & eventual acceptance.

The stories of Easter raise a natural question for speculation:  What happens when we die?  What is all this talk about “eternal” life, or “ever-lasting” life, or life here-after with God in heaven. How do we imagine it?

We’ve all grown up with various stories of what happens to the person – that is, the personality (not the body itself, per se, but the soul or spirit) – the essence of the person we have known and loved.  When we close our eyes in death, what then?  Lazarus came out of his tomb when Jesus called his name.  What was he coming from? What had he experienced in those four days dead?

Is it possible that the dead will rise?  I like the old Gospel song: “Ain’t No Grave” (… gonna hold my body down! …When I hear that trumpet sound, I’m gonna get up out’a the ground, ’cuz there ain’t no grave gonna hold my body down.  Meet me, meet me, Jesus!  Meet me in the middle of the air!  I’m gonna rise and meet my God and say goodbye down here! ’Cuz there ain’t no grave… gonna hold my body down!) Is it possible to imagine (as in the song) that our own burial places will be found empty, not because of natural decay (“ashes to ashes & dust to dust”), but because our life-spirit has gone elsewhere?

Easter is the season in which the Christian Church says: “Yes!  There is life beyond the grave.  There is eternal life and we’re in it already. Believe it.” (I can’t help but wonder whether Lazarus was grateful to have been called back across that great divide by Jesus, or whether he would’ve preferred to have stayed. It depends, I suppose, on how we imagine the afterworld to be.)

And that’s what I’d like us to do on this Mother’s Day.  Play with our imagination, the images we have received from our parents and our church up-bringing, as well as the New Testament writings of St. Paul to the Corinthians, and St. John’s Book of the Revelation (the last book in our Bible).

The promise of “resurrection” is a Jewish concept that was brought to life in the Easter story when Jesus left his “empty tomb” behind.  As Martha pointed out to Jesus in last Sunday’s text: the Jewish idea of resurrection was an event that would take place at the end of time, when all the dead would be raised at once, to stand before the Judgment Seat of God.  It’s the scene St. John the Divine gives us in Chapter 20 of his Book of Revelation (vss 11-13).  The remarkable thing about Jesus’ use of resurrection -- both his own and Lazarus’s -- is that it was individual, not a general resurrection of all the dead at once (as was expected), and it was present, not off in the distant future. 

(In fact, someone once suggested that the reason Jesus called out Lazarus’s name, there at the tomb, was so that only HE came back to life.  Otherwise, if Jesus had simply said “Arise!  Come forth!”, perhaps all the dead would have come back to life… like Ezekiel’s valley of dry bones.)

Resurrection denotes “revival” – the word derives from “resurgence” – bringing back into use, bringing back into form, that which has disappeared. We might also think of “resuscitation” -- to stir back into action -- to “revive”. It is a uniquely Christian belief about life being stronger than death.

(NOTE:  Resurrection  differs from the Hindu belief in “reincarnation,” which proposes the rebirth of a soul into a new human or animal form; a fresh embodiment of one’s continuing life force in something other than your own body, coming back to life as something else on earth. Lazarus was not reincarnated; he was revived. Many Americans assume reincarnation is valid.)

When the Jews of Jesus’ day spoke of “resurrection,” they meant that there would be a general resurrection of all humanity, a bringing back to life all those persons who had died, for a final judgment by God, their Creator.  The followers of Jesus, however, who experienced first-hand Jesus’ return – who felt the resurgence and revitalization of their movement – said that Jesus had already ushered in the resurrection of the dead, beginning with himself.  They went on to tell the whole world that death was not the end of the story!

There was no need for the dead to await Gabriel’s final trumpet call to rise up from their graves, for Jesus had already begun the “harrowing of hell” (breaking the chains of the devil, setting the captives of Death free).  Jesus had already opened the gates of heaven, so that all may come in.  No need to wait!  One by one, through faith in Christ – who is the Way, the Truth, & the Life – eternal life was opened for everyone.  The raising of Lazarus from the dead ten days before Easter was merely a forerunner (an appetizer) of the real thing.

That’s the Easter claim.  We are already enjoying eternal life with Jesus Christ, here and now; so when we die, it is nothing to worry about – it’s not a final judgment of condemnation, it is a coming home to the one who loves us.

          One way to think of the dying process was popularized by the late Rev. Dr. Norman Vincent Peale (long-time Pastor of Marble Collegiate Church in New York City, popular author and editor of the “Guideposts” publishing house) in what he calls “a parable of Life.”  He writes:

Imagine a baby in prenatal state, tucked up under her mother's loving heart.  Suppose someone were to come to this unborn baby, and say: "Sweet-heart, you cannot stay here very long.  In a few months you will be born – that is, your life here will end.  You will die to this place in order to be born into something new."

          The baby might stubbornly say: "But I don't want to leave here!  I'm already alive.  Furthermore, I am comfortable, and well cared for.  I'm warm, loved, & happy here.  I don't want to die to this place and be born into some-thing new.  No, I won’t go."

          But in the normal course of events, she is born.  And then what does she find? 

She feels beneath her, strong loving arms.  She looks up into the loving face of her mother.  Everyone runs to meet her needs and to give her pleasure.  She is welcomed, and cuddled; cared for.

She might say to herself: "How foolish I was.  This is a wonderful place to which I've come; a wonderful family that includes me.  I'm so happy here.  I was alive then, and I’m still alive now.  It didn’t really end at all."

          Then she goes on to develop as a child: a tomboy tagging along after her brothers, learning to walk and to play, enjoying all the wondrous delights of childhood.  Animals and fresh air, learning about things.  She grows into her youth, with all its excitement and romance.  She meets and marries, and soon her own children play about her.  She holds their little hands and knows their love.  So the years pass; the achievements and the joy of living is hers.        

          And then she becomes old.  Her hair is white.  Her step is slower.  Her natural energy abates.  Someone comes to her and says: "Sweetheart, you cannot stay here.  You are going to die, or one might say: you will be born out of this place into another." 

And again she might resist, saying: "But I don't want to die from here.  I am alive, and I like this place.  It is warm and pleasant and I have my loved ones.  I love this world -- the outdoors, watering the garden -- the dawning and sunsets, the moon at night, and the starlight.  I like to feel the warmth of the summer breeze on my face.  I like to see the swaying palms and swim in the sea.  I like the springtime and summertime and the fall and winter.  I love this world. I don't want to leave it!"

          But there comes a time when, in the natural course, she dies.  What happens then?  Is God the Creator suddenly going to change God's nature? 

Or can we not assume that she will feel once again loving arms beneath her, and once again look up into a beautiful face -- her mother, her beloved, her brothers and sisters who had gone before her, and her maker/God, the presence of Jesus more beautiful even than that first face she saw so long ago...  Won't she soon be exclaiming: "Why this is wonderful!  This place is surpassingly beautiful!  I love this new life.  Here I want to remain forever!"

How do we imagine “eternal life?”  What will it be like when this world is over, and a new life has begun?  Nobody knows, of course. 

I like what Mitch Albom’s Rabbi said, in a videotaped last remark to his congregation which was played at the end of the Rabbi’s own funeral service: People have asked whether there is life after death.  To this, he said: “My answer is: yes, there is something.  But friends, I’m sorry.  Now that I know, I can’t even tell you.”   (Mitch Albom “Have a Little Faith,” New York: Hyperion/Harper-Collins,

                                                                                                                        2009, page 246)

There are so many lovely images people have used for the passing of a loved one.  I think back on the funeral for my cousin’s husband Carlos, who had drowned while trying (unsuccessfully) to save my other cousin Jeremy.

The minister at that service said that Carlos -- an active church member and one of the nicest guys you would ever meet, father of four boys -- was “ripe fruit” which had grown as mature and whole and rich as one could wish, and had been plucked by the divine hand. 

On the next day, at my cousin Jeremy’s funeral, the minister said he had been a light in many lives, and now he was a star in heaven.  There are so many stars in the night sky, that you won’t notice one more, but Jeremy carries the light of life and the light of Christ forever in God’s presence.  These are just a couple of the many ways we express our faith in eternal life, and it gives great comfort to those of us left behind.

                The classical writers (such as Vergil) described the passage from life to death as being “rowed across the River Styx” by the silent boatman Charon.  Christians changed the name of the River Styx to the River Jordan, and dying became (for us) moving into the Promised Land.  “Shall we gather at the river?”

In the Greek myth of “Hades” (Roman: “Pluto”) things were not so pleasant -- arriving souls were met by a fearful three-headed hound that guarded the gates (not unlike the dog Harry Potter met in the attic at Hogwarts in Book One).  Unlike the classical writers, the New Testament writers assure us that we will be met by a loving God and by all the saints who preceded us.  None of the terrors of mythological “Hades” belongs in the Christian Gospel!

(If I had my way, we’d clean out all the “hell-fire, brimstone” theology that has worked its way into traditional Christian theology since the Middle Ages.)

                I remember a song from the 70’s that I used to sing with my Gospel Band: “I had a dream the other night, I hated to awake.  I dreamed I had arrived at the great Pearly Gate!  St. Peter stood there, smiling, sayin’: “Where have you been?  We’ve got your mansion ready, so come on in!”   He rang for an angel to act as a guide.  I stretched my wings a time or two and learned how to fly!  Oh, it’s a great, great morning, your first day in heaven, when you stroll down the golden avenue.  There are mansions left and right, and you thrill with every sight, and the saints are always smilin’ sayin’ “How do you do!?” Oh, it’s a great, great morning, your first day in heaven, when you realize your warrin’ days are through.  You’ll be glad you were not idle, took time to read your Bible; it’s a great, great morning for you.”

Of course, there’s no way to dispute anyone’s teachings about “life after death,” because there is no objective criteria (apart from our own belief) by which we can “prove” what form our personal immortality will actually take.  We simply don’t “know.”   (Can I say that?  Will you still respect me as your Pastor if I admit that we “don’t know”?)

                Furthermore, because so much of what is said about “heaven” is poetry -- it’s metaphor, it is open-ended imagery (like hidden treasure, or a pearl of great price; heaven is like a seed or a kingdom) -- it allows a great deal of room for speculation about what it will be like to “meet God” and what it will be like “in heaven” after death.

Much of the church’s traditional teachings about life-after-death, judgment, even doctrines of hell & heaven have been justified by citing parts of the Book of the Revelation.  Frankly, there is so much Sturm und Drang, “Shock & Awe” chaos and conflict, beasts & other make-believe characters, that I have little use for the Apocalypse of John’s Revelation, except for the part where “God dwells with us, wiping every tear from our eyes; where Death will be no more, mourning and crying and pain will be no more.”  (Rev. 21:1-6)  That strikes me as a true picture of eternal life: life in God.

          Doctrines related to what “heaven” will be like (specifically describing “life after death”), such as those words from the Apocalypse, are examples of people trying to put an abstract belief into words...

On one side, the early Church had the “dualistic” ideals of  Greek philosophy: where heaven was “an eternity of perfection.” … Where our immortal “spirit”-life (or soul) will exist in a “time-less” realm that will be “un-ending” & “never-changing” because we are with God forever.  To use the Apostle Paul’s language in explaining resurrection to the Corinthians:

“What is sown is perishable, what is raised is imperishable; what is sown in dishonor is raised in power.  What is buried is a physical body, what is raised is a spiritual body… And when this mortal body puts on immortality, then the saying that is written will be fulfilled: “Death has been swallowed up in victory!” Where, O grave, is your victory?  Where, O Death, is your sting?”  (I Corinthinas 15:42-44,54-55) 

St. Paul’s concept of “putting on” eternal perfection in heaven is drawn from Greek thinking -- Greek philosophical speculation about immortality -- not from the experience of anyone’s “reality”.

          Now, there’s nothing wrong about St. Paul’s image of immortality: an unchanging eternity of perfection in God.  After all, this is probably what many people think!  We all become “one” in the embrace of our loving God.

          On the other side, we have images of heaven that are active, dramatic, much more like actual “lived experience.”  Some with rewards & retribution;  others with a cast of otherworldly-characters and angels; harps and haloes, crowns of gold… In that case, it is hard to find eternal perfection there!  

Both ideas of heaven (the abstract spiritual “immortality” of St. Paul and the more dynamic vision of Revelation) have been taught by Christians throughout history.  Which do you hold?  Which belief gives you the most comfort?

My grandmother used to sing: “There’s a mansion, just over the hill top in that bright land where we’ll never grow old.  And someday yonder we’ll never more wander, but walk those streets that are purest gold.” 

My Dad, her son, used to sing to me: “Oh, dem golden slippers; oh, dem golden slippers: golden slippers I’m g’wan to wear to walk them golden streets…”

I realize it is poetry, not history; it’s imagination, not fact.  But I feel my grandmother and my Dad, even though they are long dead, with me now!

                 Because I feel my ancestors still with me, and the saints who have gone before us, still gathered here, I can’t help but believe there is always the possibility that our lives will continue to have an impact in the world long after we are gone, even if we no longer have any further personal living experiences.  That’s because others experience us; they take something from us into themselves.  They remember encounters with us; they may read our words (long after we are gone), sing our songs, use our inventions.  Thus, the world itself is permanently enriched by every goodness or act of love we perform. 

I believe we can live steadfast, faithful lives, when we know that in the Lord our deeds are not in vain.  There is a bit of immortality in every action we take. 

               

                If there are no further subjective experiences to be had beyond death, then the only lasting meaning we will have is the hope that others still living will remember us & our works.  If so, that “objective” immortality becomes our greatest hope.  Re-living  (in memory) the good we have done, the love we have enjoyed, and knowing that we have had an impact on the world for its betterment, is one of the ways we might understand “immortality.”    

                How much more gratifying (to me) is an image of an after-life (heaven) that is alive; dynamic, not static; always changing and adapting as each soul encounters new experiences.  Yes, I am suggesting that there is a continua-tion of subjective experiences beyond death!  I believe that the “self” that I am as I go through the experiences of this life (as I learn & grow, mature & change) will not be “terminated” at death.  All that changes is the environ-ment in which I will be doing my further experiencing (as in Dr. Peale’s “parable of life” we spoke of earlier).  I will no longer rely on this “body.”

          The Apostle Paul speaks of what is to come after our death like a seed which has been buried, and which comes forth (in time) with an entirely different kind of body.  God gives to the seed the kind of body it needs to flourish: a sprout, a stalk, a head of grain, a fruit-bearing or flowering branch.  There are “heavenly bodies” like sun, moon, and stars… and “earthly bodies” like animals, plants, and people.  What is put down in death, says St. Paul, will rise imperishable; the physical body will fall away, the spiritual body will remain.

          I believe that you & I will continue to have experiences in God’s heaven which will change us. 

          And so, “death” (to me) is less like a period that ends a sentence, and more like a comma -- where our loved ones, though set apart from us in our physical world, continue to live in the direct presence of God & with all who have gone before.

And I know that sounds very traditional -- trusting that “the circle will be unbroken” in the sweet by-&-by, that “when the roll is called up yonder, I’ll be there!” --  but I believe it!  Just like that.  It is my hope; my faith.

                The disciples came to believe… that God was with them in the end.  Forever!  …That Jesus was the Alpha and the Omega, from the beginning to the very end.  …That what we have seen and understood of God in this world is only a mirror-image of ourselves, and a distorted one at that. 

I love the final verse of Charles’ Wesley’s great hymn “Love Divine All Loves Excelling” (written in 1747) with which we began today’s service:

Finish, then, thy new creation.  Pure and spotless let us be.

Let us see thy great salvation, perfectly restored in Thee.

Changed from glory into glory, till in heaven we take our place.

Till we cast our crowns before Thee, lost in wonder, love, and praise.

Easter tells us that the kind of God we have is faithful, hopeful, and loving, now and always, in this world and the next, world without end!

That’s how the Bible story ends… as God tenderly bends down to wipe away every tear. 

Yes, there will be tears in heaven, but God, like a loving mother, or like a good friend whom you trust intimately, will wipe them away.  That’s some-thing new!  That’s “experiencing” heaven!  That’s our eternal promised land.  

                                                                                                Amen.