Today’s Gospel lesson from the 6th chapter of John is read on the 3rd Sunday in a series of five in which Jesus describes himself as the bread of life. But there is a secondary theme in these lessons, one that also runs through the entire 6th chapter of John. That is what happens at the end of our life on earth. Jesus’ monologue about the bread of life is full of such references, just today we heard: “… I will raise that person up on the last day … I tell you, whoever believes has eternal life … Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die … I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever …” And if you re-read the last 2 weeks’ Gospels, and listen to those over the next two weeks, you will find that theme again and again.
We rarely talk about this topic, and even more rarely do we preach about it: What happens after our biological death? I’m going to try to deal with this question by reflecting on three other questions. Will I really go on living after I die? If I go on living, what sort of life will it be? And how do I make this life come alive in symbols we can understand today, here and now?
Some philosophers spend endless hours trying to prove, or disprove, from sheer reason, that your soul -your essence – and mine will never die, while others argue, equally convincingly, that there is no such thing as a soul, thus there is nothing to live after biological death. While the arguments are not without value, you need to be a philosopher to appreciate them.
For the purposes of this sermon, I assume that Jesus is who he claimed to be: the Christ, the Son of God, the Lamb of God, the Redeemer of the world – or, as the Church later came to understand Him; God from God, Light from light, true God from true God,…, of one substance [that is, effectively identical] with [God] the Father. If you are not prepared to at least consider that to be true, the rest of this sermon will not make much sense – but then, if you are not prepared to at least consider that to be true, what are you doing here?
Christians, fully believing, or at least willing to accept the truth of Christianity unless proven otherwise, accept the reasoning of St. Paul’s argument with some Corinthians who denied the resurrection. You hear it read at many funeral services. You can read it for yourself in the 15th chapter of 1st Letter to the Corinthians. (Or, if you are willing to read it in the language of the King James Bible, you can shortcut, and read it in the Book of Common Prayer, beginning at the bottom of page 595.) The gist of Paul’s argument is that faith in the resurrection of Christ automatically leads to belief in one’s own eternal life. Let me lead you through Paul’s thinking.
Sin has ruptured the relationship of humanity from God. Sin has separated men and women from each other. Sin has alienated men and women from the earth on which they live. Sin has caused a struggle between good and evil in each human person. For these reasons, the Son of God took our flesh. He was born as we are. He grew up as we grow up, learning from his parents how to love and how to work. He left home as we all must. He preached repentance and forgiveness, he healed the sick and raised the dead – but only for three short years. He was criticised for consorting with sinners, he was called crazy by his own family. He let himself be sold for thirty pieces of silver by one of his closest friends, he was condemned to death on false charges, he was lashed with whips, crowned with thorns, nailed to a wooden cross. Before this, he mysteriously identified bread and wine with his body and blood, so that he could be with us even after his own death. He died, still murmuring God’s mercy for his enemies, and love for all. And after three days he rose from death, and went back to his Father! All this he did for us!
Why? So that we might live for a few hours, years, decades, even a hundred years, and then disappear into dust? So that uncounted thousands could die of hunger each day, or be killed by violence; so that good men and women would waste away with countless diseases, or simply age away, and that would literally be the end of them? So that we might discover what love is like, and discover that death is more powerful than love? So that you might come to the Lord’s table, eat his flesh and drink his blood, and then bam! suddenly, or not so suddenly and unpleasantly, you’re dead? Is this why God’s Son walked the earth, died for us, rose from death, ascended into heaven? If that were all, Christ’s cross would be stupid tragedy, or even sick comedy; he might as well have stayed in heaven!
No! Not only does that not make sense, it even contradicts the very words of Christ, words you just heard a few minutes ago. Christ conquered death, not for himself, but for you and me; when he went to be with his Father, he did it so that we could join him there. All of this can be summarized in one verse from John’s gospel, a verse Martin Luther called the Gospel in miniature: “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” That’s the core of the Christian faith, and St. Paul’s argument.
Second question: What is the life after life like? As a child I grew up entranced by heaven, aided by various well-meaning Sunday School teachers; scared silly by hell, aided by various not-so-well-meaning Sunday School teachers; sometimes the same teachers! All sorts of images remain in my memory, from endless fun with angels, singing in heavenly choruses, but also unquenchable fire, and devils with pitchforks.
To be realistic and Christian, you have to begin by admitting ignorance. We cannot really know what heaven or hell are like, or what we shall be hereafter. We do not know how God will “look like” to us, what a soul is outside the body, what our risen bodies will be. I thoroughly believe (but don’t know) that I shall still be I, and you will be recognizably you, but that’s as far as it goes.
What do we know about heaven? Hopefully, it is not one endless party, or for that matter, endless singing of religious choruses; boring! No, I think heaven is simply another word for life. Life as you’ve never fully lived it before. Being totally alive. Can you remember a moment when you felt so gloriously alive that you could barely stand it? Whatever it was – maybe the first date with your spouse – holding your first-born child for the first time – scoring a touchdown in a football game – a quiet moment by a lake or in the mountains – a perfect golf drive – coming to the Eucharist and feeling at one with Christ – whatever made you tremble with excitement or stand in awe, multiply that by a number as large as you like, and you have the tiniest idea of the joy that is life without end. Those kinds of moments, those infrequent yet perfect times in life, these are your glimpses of heaven.
Hell? We know even less about hell than we do about heaven. Forget about the traditional hell-fire and devils with pitchforks – most of that comes from the medieval church in bed with princely rulers scaring people into being good subjects – they are good images, but it’s unlikely that anyone is actually stoking the furnaces. Hell’s deepest meaning is anguish, agony, sorrow, sadness. It is a fate far worse than fire; total frustration, endless alienation from God. The soul in hell cries out with its entire being for God, and God is out of reach, forever. There is no point in living, but life goes on, endlessly. Made for God, the soul in hell is godless. Made for love, the soul in hell is loveless. Made for community, the soul in hell is alone, eternity without end.
For your consolation, no one will ever be without God unless he or she wants that. No one is sent to hell, they choose to go there. The final judgement is our judgement of ourselves. C.S. Lewis put it very well: “There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God ‘Thy will be done,’ and those to whom God says ‘Thy will be done.'”
Third question: How do we talk about the afterlife in symbols we can understand? Perhaps a story, which may be known to you, helps.
Someone was approached by an angel, and asked if they wanted to visit heaven and hell. They said yes, and immediately were taken to hell. It was not at all as expected. It was a beautiful place, with many pleasant mansions, surrounded by beautiful gardens. They went into a mansion, and heard terrible sounds of agony and pain. Following the sound, they entered a banquet hall. Huge tables were laden with every imaginable food, and the residents of hell were seated at the tables. They looked normal, except they had no elbows. They had knives, and forks, and spoons, but could not get the food to their mouths. And so in the midst of a banquet, they howled with hunger.
Next the angel took the person to heaven. It was exactly like hell. Again they went into a mansion, and this time heard the sounds of rejoicing and happy laughter. Again they went into a banquet hall, exactly like the one in hell. Again the residents of heaven were seated at tables laden with food. Again they had eating implements, but no elbows. But his caused no difficulty. They simply fed each other, and everyone was satisfied.
That story is symbolic; it has a particular importance for your life and mine, here and now. Eternal life does not begin at death, we are living in it now. Heaven is not some place we go to, heaven is a place we make for ourselves, here. When we feed one another, we begin the banquet of heaven. Heaven begins on this side of the grave. You heard it from the lips of Jesus: “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.” Then what? “Come, O blessed of my father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you …”
Come to the party! But the party is now. It is feeding your sister and brother, it is welcoming the stranger, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and imprisoned. Your invitation to the party came to you at your baptism. You might not see it at the bottom of your baptismal certificate, but it’s there! RSVP! Please respond!
Copyright ©2018 by Gerry Mueller.