Hard Words: Heaven
In 1991, guitarist Eric Clapton's 4-year old son, Conor, died after falling out of a window. In his grief he penned what would turn out to be one of the biggest songs of his career, the plaintive and melancholy, “Tears in Heaven.”
Now, there are a lot of songs about heaven out there. Not all of them are exactly scriptural or theologically sound. And I know some of these artists like to write in metaphors and aren't trying to make a literal point about what heaven is and isn't. But I think we all know that a stairway to heaven can't be bought, heaven is not a place on earth, and I was going to say something snarky about knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door, but it seems those words are 90% of the lyrics to that song, so there's not much to work with there.
But when Clapton sings, “Beyond the door / there's peace I'm sure / and I know there'll be no more / tears in heaven,” he gets it pretty close to the mark.
Now, I don't know much about Eric Clapton's religion, but it seems that after living a life of hedonism he re-committed to Christianity during his struggles with addiction. If that's the case, then he may well have looked to the scriptures in writing that song. But I simply don't know if he did or didn't.
But I wonder about that, because those words, “there'll be no more tears in heaven,” are remarkably consistent with what we read in the Bible.
We don't get a lot of imagery of what heaven actually looks like in the scriptures. There are a lot of unanswered questions. And if anyone tells you they know exactly what happens when we die, take what they say with some heaping grains of salt.
But we do have the words of John in Revelation 21:4, “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying in pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”
And the words of the prophet, Isaiah, 25:8, “He will swallow up death forever. Then the Lord God will wipe away the tears from all faces, and the disgrace of his people he will take away from all the earth, for the Lord has spoken.”
And we have the words of Jesus Christ from Luke 6:21-23,
“Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven.”
We don't know what heaven looks like. We get different visions of it; different images from the scriptures, from centuries of art and poetry, even from modern pop culture and music.
We might envision a kingdom in the sky, a spiritual existence built among the clouds.
We might think of God's shining city, clean and rich in splendor.
There are pastoral images of heaven. Heaven as a place of fruitful farms and honest work, where we continue to live very human lives, but without the stain of sin or specter of death.
The image we get from John in this 22nd chapter of Revelation is kind of an amalgamation of several different conceptions of heaven. Where heaven is God's great and glorious city, with the water from the River of Life flowing from God's throne down the city streets. And the streets are lined with fruit trees – twelve different kinds, each giving their fruit in a different month. And among those trees is the Tree of Life – one of the two trees specifically mentioned in Eden in the Book of Genesis.
So we get the city, we get the pastoral, and we get the echo of Eden – the restoration of the original paradise.
And our own images and expectations of heaven are likely to be as unique and individual as we are. Not everyone finds the pastoral idyll of the simple life to be heavenly, nor does everyone feel charmed by the promise of the city, even one so resplendent as God's.
But I think heaven is probably big enough that no matter who we are there's probably a place for us to be at home. And I'm not sure the physical attributes of heaven – the layout and the aesthetics – matter all that much. At least, not until we get there. Because we simply don't and can't know.
What we do have, however, is a much clearer sense of what heaven will feel like.
Whether it's a place where we get to while away our hours, sitting on clouds and playing our harps, or whether it's a place where we'll be expected to get our hands dirty and work the good earth, we know these things:
First, that it's a place where God's justice will reign in all things. And not justice in that good will be rewarded and evil punished, but that there will be no evil in the first place. It will be a virtuous everlasting life. In describing the New Jerusalem, Isaiah writes, “They will build houses and dwell in them; they will plant vineyards and eat their fruit. No longer will they build houses and others live in them, or plant and others eat.” So in God's heaven we can expect to live fairly and honestly, without fear of theft or exploitation. Where no evil can take root.
Second, that it's a place where the all things are everlasting, where we fear no aging or decay, where the blessings God bestows can never whither or die. Jesus himself tells us this in Matthew 6, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.”
The things that we cherish in this life may give us fleeting satisfactions, but the blessings of heaven cannot be ruined or taken from us. They are eternal.
Third, and most importantly, we know heaven is a place of love and welcome. A few weeks ago on Trinity Sunday we talked about that Hebrew word, hessed, that perfect, unconditional, overpowering, overflowing love that only God can give. The closest we can compare it to is the love a parent has for a child, but even that does not do hessed justice.
Heaven is a place where that hessed love flows in abundance. Where God walks among us, where we are at peace with him, with ourselves, and with each other. Where all of the flaws and faults that bedeviled us during our lifetimes are made whole. And where we are welcomed in with open arms.
We receive this welcome from our Lord Jesus himself. It is a promise he gives us, that his Father's house has many rooms and he goes to prepare a place for us.
God's love for us is great. The place our Christ Jesus goes to prepare for us is one of righteousness and justice. A place of eternal blessing. A place where we will be welcomed in deep embrace and love beyond measure.
In heaven there will be no decay.
There will be no evil.
No moths or vermin, no thieves or wrongdoing.
No weeping. No pain. And no tears.
Just all the goodness and love and grace that God has to offer, through all of divine eternity.
Let us pray.
Most holy and wonderful God,
As your mortal creation, we know what lies on this side of death. We know death touches us all, we fear its finality, we don't like to talk about it. Yet you give us a glimpse of what awaits us on the other side of death. Of the treasures to come, of the love that awaits, of the welcome you long to give us. Gracious God, we trust ourselves to your care in this life and the next, knowing that in you we have nothing to fear. We pray in gratitude for your watchfulness over us, our lives and our souls, in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
In 1991, guitarist Eric Clapton's 4-year old son, Conor, died after falling out of a window. In his grief he penned what would turn out to be one of the biggest songs of his career, the plaintive and melancholy, “Tears in Heaven.”
Now, there are a lot of songs about heaven out there. Not all of them are exactly scriptural or theologically sound. And I know some of these artists like to write in metaphors and aren't trying to make a literal point about what heaven is and isn't. But I think we all know that a stairway to heaven can't be bought, heaven is not a place on earth, and I was going to say something snarky about knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door, but it seems those words are 90% of the lyrics to that song, so there's not much to work with there.
But when Clapton sings, “Beyond the door / there's peace I'm sure / and I know there'll be no more / tears in heaven,” he gets it pretty close to the mark.
Now, I don't know much about Eric Clapton's religion, but it seems that after living a life of hedonism he re-committed to Christianity during his struggles with addiction. If that's the case, then he may well have looked to the scriptures in writing that song. But I simply don't know if he did or didn't.
But I wonder about that, because those words, “there'll be no more tears in heaven,” are remarkably consistent with what we read in the Bible.
We don't get a lot of imagery of what heaven actually looks like in the scriptures. There are a lot of unanswered questions. And if anyone tells you they know exactly what happens when we die, take what they say with some heaping grains of salt.
But we do have the words of John in Revelation 21:4, “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying in pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”
And the words of the prophet, Isaiah, 25:8, “He will swallow up death forever. Then the Lord God will wipe away the tears from all faces, and the disgrace of his people he will take away from all the earth, for the Lord has spoken.”
And we have the words of Jesus Christ from Luke 6:21-23,
“Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven.”
We don't know what heaven looks like. We get different visions of it; different images from the scriptures, from centuries of art and poetry, even from modern pop culture and music.
We might envision a kingdom in the sky, a spiritual existence built among the clouds.
We might think of God's shining city, clean and rich in splendor.
There are pastoral images of heaven. Heaven as a place of fruitful farms and honest work, where we continue to live very human lives, but without the stain of sin or specter of death.
The image we get from John in this 22nd chapter of Revelation is kind of an amalgamation of several different conceptions of heaven. Where heaven is God's great and glorious city, with the water from the River of Life flowing from God's throne down the city streets. And the streets are lined with fruit trees – twelve different kinds, each giving their fruit in a different month. And among those trees is the Tree of Life – one of the two trees specifically mentioned in Eden in the Book of Genesis.
So we get the city, we get the pastoral, and we get the echo of Eden – the restoration of the original paradise.
And our own images and expectations of heaven are likely to be as unique and individual as we are. Not everyone finds the pastoral idyll of the simple life to be heavenly, nor does everyone feel charmed by the promise of the city, even one so resplendent as God's.
But I think heaven is probably big enough that no matter who we are there's probably a place for us to be at home. And I'm not sure the physical attributes of heaven – the layout and the aesthetics – matter all that much. At least, not until we get there. Because we simply don't and can't know.
What we do have, however, is a much clearer sense of what heaven will feel like.
Whether it's a place where we get to while away our hours, sitting on clouds and playing our harps, or whether it's a place where we'll be expected to get our hands dirty and work the good earth, we know these things:
First, that it's a place where God's justice will reign in all things. And not justice in that good will be rewarded and evil punished, but that there will be no evil in the first place. It will be a virtuous everlasting life. In describing the New Jerusalem, Isaiah writes, “They will build houses and dwell in them; they will plant vineyards and eat their fruit. No longer will they build houses and others live in them, or plant and others eat.” So in God's heaven we can expect to live fairly and honestly, without fear of theft or exploitation. Where no evil can take root.
Second, that it's a place where the all things are everlasting, where we fear no aging or decay, where the blessings God bestows can never whither or die. Jesus himself tells us this in Matthew 6, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.”
The things that we cherish in this life may give us fleeting satisfactions, but the blessings of heaven cannot be ruined or taken from us. They are eternal.
Third, and most importantly, we know heaven is a place of love and welcome. A few weeks ago on Trinity Sunday we talked about that Hebrew word, hessed, that perfect, unconditional, overpowering, overflowing love that only God can give. The closest we can compare it to is the love a parent has for a child, but even that does not do hessed justice.
Heaven is a place where that hessed love flows in abundance. Where God walks among us, where we are at peace with him, with ourselves, and with each other. Where all of the flaws and faults that bedeviled us during our lifetimes are made whole. And where we are welcomed in with open arms.
We receive this welcome from our Lord Jesus himself. It is a promise he gives us, that his Father's house has many rooms and he goes to prepare a place for us.
God's love for us is great. The place our Christ Jesus goes to prepare for us is one of righteousness and justice. A place of eternal blessing. A place where we will be welcomed in deep embrace and love beyond measure.
In heaven there will be no decay.
There will be no evil.
No moths or vermin, no thieves or wrongdoing.
No weeping. No pain. And no tears.
Just all the goodness and love and grace that God has to offer, through all of divine eternity.
Let us pray.
Most holy and wonderful God,
As your mortal creation, we know what lies on this side of death. We know death touches us all, we fear its finality, we don't like to talk about it. Yet you give us a glimpse of what awaits us on the other side of death. Of the treasures to come, of the love that awaits, of the welcome you long to give us. Gracious God, we trust ourselves to your care in this life and the next, knowing that in you we have nothing to fear. We pray in gratitude for your watchfulness over us, our lives and our souls, in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.