By

Robert Millett

Looking back over the course of our lives, memory relaxes its grip on the cords of this transient world, as our thoughts run in a stream of images reflecting both moments seized, and opportunities squandered. At the same time, foresight sharpens in focused clarity, straining for any glimpse of a distant tomorrow, and for the answers to our deepest questions.  

Will the future reveal us to be merely mortal beings headed for an existential nothingness, or something much greater: immortal souls reserved for heaven, or possibly even hell?

If we are fated for the black abyss of an infinite unconsciousness, then nothing matters other than the relative ‘now.’ But if we are destined for an encounter with the living God, can we reasonably envision our transcendence into that future revenant reality?

Does the temporal pattern in this life, which repeats in the perpetual rise and decline, growth, and atrophy of all persons, places, systems, and things, predict in any way, a familiar and continuous pattern in the eternal construct to come? If so, will the pattern of our new reality be manifested as an exact overlay of our present state, or as its mirrored inversion of something yet to be imagined?

We long for the revelation of vivid truth over the folly of vain imaginings, but for now, we are granted only a limited view of such things “through a glass, darkly,” with our hearts peering to see whatever may be ascertained from this side of existence, before actually breaking the pane.

Comparing the overriding patterns in these present and future realities reveal several significant differences and similarities between the two. The pattern of this life, ruled by the First Law of Thermodynamics, dictates that everything in the physical universe is in a state of decay. This truth defines our very existence, or, better yet, our inescapable demise. Nothing and no one is exempt.

From the simplest to the sublime, from the immediate to the enduring, sooner or later, all things come to an end, despite our desire and effort to keep their shifting sands from slipping through our fingers.

Consider the transitory pleasure of a summer vacation, or an ice cream cone, a sunset, or a kiss. And no matter how briefly they brighten our lives, many of us still opt for the fleeting promise of a puppy or kitten, knowing full well that we will suffer the eventual sting of their passing one day.

What of the inherent let down that follows our enjoyment at the conclusion of a good concert, a gripping novel or film? How many of our great friendships remain – the girl next door, or our Huck Finn partner in crime? School terms end, while the voices and faces of our forgotten classmates fade away. We always wake from the dream, no matter how sweet. Snowfall subsides, candles melt, and Christmas never stays. Then one day, we come to the realization that we have been effectively orphaned, bereft of our parents, our youth, and of our irretrievable innocence.

Regardless of the resulting terminal outcome, we find in every circumstance that we continue to thrive on the hope of new encounters.

We defy or ignore the inevitable reality of this profound pattern because of our unquenchable appetite for connection and context, both human and spiritual. We choose to celebrate the sheer magic and wonder of it all, whether or not our idealized anticipation surpasses its realized end.

Reconsider the warmth of weeks leading up to Christmas. When the big day finally arrives, does it delight us as once remembered, or rather disappoint – just enough – to be relegated as an emotional artifact that never quite seems to meet our romanticized expectation? We leave the tree and decorations up a while longer to veil the faltering glow, like the light from Moses’ face diminishing after beholding the passing Glory of God. Nevertheless, come next December, our wide-eyed, childlike hope returns intact, and we repeat the pattern once again.

Does marriage meter its grand walk up to the wedding? Does its honeysuckle moon hold full forever, or does it wane by degree in its trip across time? And isn’t the tenderness and thrill married to the ascent of passion as heady as its culmination, which in turn, restores that familiar ache and ultimate aloneness of ending?

What then can we take away from this broken, human condition in the coming reality of the next life?

Can we count on the reversal of this earthly pattern, realistically expecting the complete restoration of our mortal relationships to each other, and more importantly, to God the Father and our Lord Jesus Christ in His coming Kingdom? Only if we can base our hope on an intimacy of love shared with Him here and now so that we will be able to,

…obtain an inheritance which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for (us), where we will greatly rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory.

1 Peter 1:4 & 8 (NASB)

Still, from our limited perspective, the question remains: is it possible to truly comprehend here on Earth, how that imperishable pattern will be manifested there in heaven – one that “will not fade away?”  If this failing world is mired in the loss of all things, could our awakening in the next life provide us with some sense of spiritual déjà vu; something like the recollection of a whispered secret we never heard, or of home – one we have never visited but have always known? Could it feel as if we have been swept over by waves of remembering – sweet memories of our forgotten first love - both for and from God Almighty?

In Him, we ascend to renewed life, both perfect and permanent, rejoined with lost loved ones and friends, presented to ancestors, to the heroes of heaven, along with the entire family of God. Where once we lost each and all, now we gain, 

…pressed down, shaken together, and running over.

Luke 6:38 (NASB)

We see, we know, we touch - never again to be rejected, forsaken, or alone. No longer ‘fallen,’ we arise, washed clean - never again to taste the bitter shame of sin, to disappoint, to wound or be wounded.

At the end of all things, our revenant reality will emerge in the power of God’s love and mercy toward each of us who love Him.

On that last and first day, His ultimate, divine pattern will emerge, one shaped by the grace, and glory, and eternal nature of God. In our regeneration to everlasting life in Him, it will be the power and sting of past separation that is finally broken – wholly, and forevermore.

For we know in part and we prophesy in part; but when the perfect comes, the partial will be done away.  For now, we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known. But now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love.

I Corinthians 13:9-10, 12-13 (NASB)

Resources

We’ve created a free downloadable PDF to explore the article deeper. It contains discussion questions about the topic in general terms that will give you a jumping-off point for beginning a conversation.

The second page contains a way to see the topic from a biblical perspective.

And finally, to go deeper into the subject, we have chosen a few curated resources to explore from other authors’ and thinkers’ research or perspectives.

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