August 11, 2009: Imagining Heaven (Part 3)

Suppose that you and I were twin fetuses waiting to be born, and we could talk, and you got a chance to see the outside world for a while, and then returned and tried to tell me what you experienced.

What would you say? How would you describe things to me?

Keep in mind that I have never seen anything, never breathed air, never felt a mother's touch, never heard anything but muffled, indistinct sounds, never crawled, never tasted milk, never smelled anything. While accounting for all my limitations, describe to me what it is like to ride a horse galloping through a field of wildflowers while gazing at snow-capped mountains in the distance.

You can't even describe the horse! "What's a horse?" I ask. You say, "It's an animal that-" and I interrupt, "What's an animal?" You reply, "An animal is a being that breathes and eats and reproduces-" "Hold on!" I say, because now I'm really confused. "What is 'breathe'? What is 'eat'? What is 'reproduce'? And what is a 'being'?"

You quickly give up trying to describe anything to me, so I try to help you out with the simplest questions I can think of. "What kind of nutrition do we get through our umbilical cords out there? What's the temperature of the amniotic fluid that we float in? Do we float in any position at all, or only right-side up? Do we get to kick each other a bit (because that's my favorite thing in the world!)." And, of course, you find that you are not able to give a satisfactory answer even to the most basic questions that I can come up with.

I think that describing heavenly reality to earthly mortals is like that. One of the most common questions I get about heaven, for example, is whether our pets will be there. I suspect the answer is neither yes nor no, but, "That's kind of like a fetus asking about the function of his umbilical cord after he's born." The vital lifelines of our present existence - things we can't imagine doing without - will be superseded by the glorious and the unimaginable.

Speaking of glorious and unimaginable: Lisa my bride took my name on Saturday, and, like the blessed fetus above, I'm completely at a loss to express what it's like to be married to her. This is about the best I can do: have you ever been dead, and got to go to heaven, and then they revived you and brought you back here? It's like the part just before they revive you and bring you back here.