In a coincidence that I think was unconnected with the loss of a beloved sister-in-law during the last Christmas season, I have read two books about death and resurrection in recent weeks. One was a requested gift from Santa, the other a paperback picked up at a church sale.
Controversial former Episcopalian bishop John Shelby Spong defines his deeply personal evolution to Eternal Life: A New Vision in what he says, at 80, will be his final book. To claim that a brief excerpt captures his message is unjust, but Spong, of all people, might wink and acknowledge that life itself is often unfair.
“When I am free to give my life to others, I will also be free to die without either fear or regret, for I will be in the possession of that which is eternal … For then Jesus, the fully alive one, does become ‘the way, the truth, and the life’, for it is the enhancement of the human that I see in him that becomes the only doorway into what ‘God’ means.”
Not a ringing endorsement of a heaven of ever-singing angels, endless sunshine and renewal of old friendships.
British novelist and confessed atheist Julian Barnes contemplates death differently in Nothing to Be Afraid Of, a witty pastiche of apprehensive thoughts from an assortment of artists, philosophers and friends coupled with a biographical remembrance of his family. The terror and fascination with which he admits he daily thinks of death is saved from total depression by an admirable skepticism.
“We hold ourselves categorically wiser than those credulous knee-benders who, a speck of time away, believed in divine purpose, an ordered world, resurrection and a Last Judgement … What convinces us that our knowledge is so final?”
Barnes neglects to quote the Bible, humankind’s ancient struggle to find meaning in life beyond death. My online concordance lists more than 600 mentions of “heaven.” Jesus nearly always talks of the “kingdom” of heaven, evidently not the place on high where he will sit at his Father’s right hand.
“No one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came from heaven—the Son of Man,” John reports him as saying.
Eschatologists—theologians concerned with last things, according to my dictionary—have filled libraries with speculation about life after death. If I must speculate, as we all must as we whistle September Song, I’m comfortable identifying with an autumn leaf gently falling to earth from the maple tree beyond the backyard fence. Comfortable, too, with the Cree hunter’s promise to the buffalo that gave up its life to sustain the tribe that he himself will be buried to nourish the grass that will nourish the buffalo. Or, as my friend, Rev. Stewart Folster puts it: “The Ojibways claim that the birds and animals cared enough for us to share their lives with us so that we could have life. Jesus did the same thing so that we could have a blessed life now and in the life after death.”
Maybe we should be more concerned with life before death. Billions of us have been born. Billions of us have died. As the guard replied to the condemned man who asked if it would hurt: “We haven’t had any complaints so far.”
Strapping my hockey helmet tight, I sought comment on this freshmen thesis from some learned minister friends of the Presbyterian persuasion.
“I am reminded of the words of John Updike on the resurrection: ‘let us not mock God with metaphor,’” wrote one. “These disciples weren’t smart enough to fool anybody with talk of a feigned resurrection. What’s more, the way Jesus harangued them, I don’t think they thought the resurrection was completely good news; it was more, in the words of William Willimon, ‘O no, he’s back!’”
Another pointed to the primary act of God reconciling the world to himself through the life, death and resurrection of Christ.
“In Spong’s world, resurrections just don’t happen so it has to become a metaphor for something else. I don’t personally think the Bible speaks of it as metaphor but as reality. Jesus overcomes death by defeating it through resurrection and this new life which includes the present gift of the Spirit also includes life beyond death, whatever that might look like.”
A third was a little more new age: “Some people say heaven is the return of your energy into the cosmos. Jesus described it as a banquet. Well if there’s any choice in the departure lounge, I’m heading with him.”
One minister referred me to other books including, he suggested pointedly, the gospels, exploring our faith in a life beyond life, so if you’ll excuse me I have some cramming to do before my final exam.
