Chapter 4 Where Is Heaven and What Is It Like?
Chapter 4
Where Is Heaven and What Is It Like?
The shadows of night were deep. Dawn was hardly a hint on the horizon. Suddenly, the stillness of night was shattered as our bedroom window rattled from two thunderous jolts: “Boom! Boom!”
A relaxed smile spread across my face even though I was half asleep. I knew it meant the space shuttle had just reentered earth’s atmosphere and the astronauts would soon land at Edwards Air Force Base on the edge of California’s Mojave Desert.
I glanced out my window to see the night still ablaze with a parade of brilliant stars, messengers of light kindling bonfires of victory all across the sky. I laid there almost envious of the astronauts who had touched the skirts of space that week. For a while, they had been friends of the stars, tickling the toes of the universe from earth’s atmosphere. I yawned a prayer before I drifted back to sleep: “Soon, Jesus, I’ll be up there…so far beyond…and even spacemen won’t be able to catch me.”
The universe fascinates me. If there’s a program about stars or space exploration on The Discovery Channel, I’m tuned in. Whenever the space shuttle is in orbit, you can find me fixated to the NASA video feed on cable television—I lie in bed and pray over the nations of the world as a little icon of the shuttle moves slowly across a map of the planet.
I watched CNN when the Endeavor astronauts walked in space to make repairs on the Hubble space telescope. Beneath their floating figures lay the earth like a gigantic blue marble. I shook my head in breathless wonder to observe a live picture of our planet slowly turning, with Africa, then the Middle East, then India all gradually rolling by. What was more amazing were the conversations radioed between the shuttle commander and his coworkers as they manipulated the cumbersome telescope.
“Hold this wrench here and put—hey, look over your shoulder. That’s Venus behind you.” He gave a long, slow whistle. “Man, isn’t that beautiful!”
“Watch that screw, it’s floating away. Ah-h, would you look at that. There’s New Orleans down there.”
“Yep, and look, coming up fast, the west coast of Florida.”
Like I said, amazing.
Then there were the call-in questions from viewers around the world. They fired question after question at the astronomers and scientists sitting behind the CNN desk. Average people like me, transfixed in front of their televisions, wondered the same thing: After the repairs, what would the Hubble telescope reveal?
One caller asked, “If Hubble is supposed to photograph the edge of the universe, what will they find on the other side?”
This is staggering, I thought. Here we are, millions of people across the world, watching earth turn before our eyes and discussing what’s beyond the universe.
The astronomer replied, “People assume there’s just empty space beyond the universe. But not so. There’s another dimension we can’t even dream of.”
“Yeah,” I said out loud to the television, “and it’s called heaven.”
Someone else asked, “I hear that this telescope is supposed to help scientists tell the age of the universe. How will they be able to do that?”
A scientist cleared her throat and answered, “The Hubble telescope will be able to photograph the distances between galaxies as they expand away from each other. When we determine the rate of expansion, we’ll just ‘run the movie backward’ to show when the universe began.”
I laughed at her answer. A few years ago Carl Sagan, the famous astronomer, was touting the universe as the only thing that was, is, and ever shall be. It had no beginning. It will have no end. That’s passé now. With the snap of a finger and a few images from Hubble, astronomers are agreeing that the universe had a beginning. Just like that, Einstein’s theory of relativity is proved. And if our complex, highly organized universe had a beginning, it stands to reason that Someone began it. They also agree the universe will have an ending—I wonder if scientists have thought to pick up the book of Revelation for a sneak preview.
I doubt it. That’s not the way most of them do things. I began to lose interest in the program after one or two callers failed in their attempt to interject God into the discussion. The scientists sloughed them off. Experts would rather seek out Stephen Hawking or other theoretical physicists to enlighten them on dark and mysterious data. They would rather turn to the cool, rational world of scientific debate for answers. Forget that the heavens hold the home of their hearts’ longing. Stick to what is flat and factual, impersonal and rational. And so, newly discovered supernovas are assigned numbers in the galactic registry, and stars are given less-than-romantic names like M–31. Yawn.
I flicked off the television.
The Time of the End
Several days later, when Endeavor’s astronauts held a news conference, I was glad they recounted their romantic experience of gazing at Venus over their shoulders and watching the west coast of Florida pass by. I identified more with them than those unimaginative scientists.
I also identified with my father who, in 1909, saw the first Model T Ford chug down Howard Street, and then, months later, the Wright Brothers fly their plane over the Baltimore harbor. He told me it was just too much for his brain. The world was simply going by too fast. My father should have lived to see this day. Because now, a little more than a generation later, the world is going by too fast. Millions of gallons of information are being poured into our one-ounce brains as we stare at our planet passing before our eyes.
I wish the prophet Daniel could have lived to see this day too. Then again, maybe he did. Perhaps he saw CNN in some prophetic vision and could only watch in wide-eyed wonder. Maybe his brain could only absorb so much, and he turned away just in time to hear God say, “But thou, O Daniel, shut up the words, and seal the book, even to the time of the end: many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased” (Daniel 12:4 KJV).
Knowledge about our universe is flying at us from right and left. We grasp something new, only to find it obsolete the next time we hear a headliner from some international science conference. Does this proliferation of knowledge mean we’ve arrived at the time of the end? I wonder if God is unsealing some grand book that has been shut up for centuries in order to reveal, page by page, facts about the heavens that confirm His handiwork.
Scientists used to believe that the universe was full of wandering comets and slow-wheeling galaxies that meandered through space with no rhyme or reason. Now most experts are beginning to acknowledge that a powerful order exists throughout the entire universe, as well as a delicate, yet exact, relationship between forces, fields, and matter. Some dare to call it “beautiful” and “an evidence of a divine mind,” but these are largely castigated by the scientific community. Still, there are molecular physicists, like Dr. John Templeton, who are bold enough to say in print, “As science yields more and more data about the universe, we see that in fact God is revealing himself more and more to human inquiry.”1
It is this delicate and orderly simplicity in the universe that is tugging on the hearts of experts like Dr. Templeton. He and a handful of others are beginning to turn down the chatter on the scientific debate long enough to hear that haunting echo from the skies.
It is that same song, so ancient and so new, whose notes resound in Psalm 19:1–4: “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.” When we gaze at a starry dome in a nighttime sky, scientists, along with you and me, aren’t simply “hearing things.” It is a haunting and mesmerizing melody. It is the heavens declaring the glory of God.
How Far Away Is Heaven?
As a child I wondered where God lived in outer space and how long it would take to get there. Had I been old enough to read an astronomy textbook, I would have discovered a few statistics which would have blown me out of the water. Our solar system has a diameter of about 700 light-minutes. That’s eight billion miles. But the galaxy in which our solar system is contained has a diameter of 100,000 light-years. Not minutes, but years. Forget doing the math on that one. Our galaxy is humongous. But here’s the kicker: Our little galaxy, which is 100,000 light-years wide, is just one of billions of other galaxies out in the cosmos.2
I can’t comprehend such gargantuan distances nor the breathless enormity of space. Billions of stars and planets, all created by God, most of which the Hubble Space Telescope will never have time to scan. But it’s up there on the edge of earth’s atmosphere obediently and systematically doing just that—scanning the universe. Hubble has recently captured images close to the very border of our cosmos, and I think it would knock our socks off if it could photograph the actual edge!
What is on the other side?
Scientific Journal may be stymied by that question, but not the Bible. Far beyond intergalactic space with its billions of swirling nebulae and novas lies another dimension. Some speculate it’s the fifth dimension. You could call it infinity, but wherever it is and however far out, the Bible calls it the highest of heavens. “To the Lord your God belong the heavens, even the highest heavens,” it says in Deuteronomy 10:14. The outermost reaches of space are not as void and lonely as we think, because the highest part of heaven is the abode of God. It would seem this “third heaven,” as Scripture calls it, spreads out into infinity and completely engulfs our expanding cosmos with all its celestial bodies. It is the dimension where “the Lord says: ‘Heaven is my throne and the earth is my footstool’” (Isaiah 66:1).
The dwelling place of God exists in infinity. It is far, far away. That’s why I’m amused when the apostle Paul writes so casually in 2 Corinthians 12:2, “I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven. Whether it was in the body or out of the body I do not know—God knows. And I know that this man…was caught up to paradise. He heard inexpressible things, things that man is not permitted to tell.”
The third heaven? The highest of heavens? C’mon, Paul, how did you arrive there so fast?
Paul wasn’t the only one to reach the throne of heaven in a flash. To the dying thief next to Him on the cross, Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:43).
Today? Jesus, Paul, and a dead criminal spanned billions of light-years in the snap of a finger?
How Close Is Heaven?
I’ve always sensed that heaven was a lot closer than we are led to believe. As any good child in Sunday school, I believed that heaven was “up.” In later years I discovered the Bible says it plainly: Paul was caught up to the third heaven…Jesus ascended into heaven…the Lord will catch us up into heaven when He returns…and, conversely, “God looks down from heaven on the sons of men” (Psalm 53:2).
This is the language the Bible invites us to use, much as it encourages us to use other earthbound words like “crowns” or “seas of glass.” And it makes sense. Heaven certainly can’t be “down” or we’d dig a hole to China.
Yet even though the dwelling place of God may be a long way up, distances like “up” and “down” lose their meaning when you realize that heaven—even the highest heavens—exist beyond our space-time continuum. Latitude and longitude, as well as directions and distances are related to time, and time is a part of the fourth dimension. And the fourth dimension is only a small part of infinity. Time there will be swallowed up. Step beyond the edge of outer space and you enter the fifth dimension where gargantuan distances light-years long are a snap of the finger to, well…to the dying thief who, when he died, instantly appeared in paradise alongside Jesus.
Had I been the dying thief, I would have been dumbstruck to hear Jesus say, “Today, you will be with me in paradise.” Today? This instant? Like Jesus taking my hand and walking with me through a wall, as He did in the Upper Room? Or appearing on a beach to cook breakfast for His friends? Or ambling along the road to Emmaus one instant and—flash—arriving in Jerusalem in no time flat? Like being changed in the twinkling of an eye?
Yes, and the Lord gives a clue as to how He does it in Revelation 1:8 when He laughs at time and distance: “‘I am the Alpha and Omega,’ says the Lord God, ‘who is, and who was, and who is to come, the Almighty.’” Notice that Jesus does not follow the convention of our logic about the way time flows; we time-bound creatures want to change the order to read Jesus was, is, and is to come. It sounds more chronological. It’s consistent with our sense of the past, present, and future. But Jesus is the great “I Am” who always lives in the present. He is the God of the now.
I think of this every time I read Revelation 22 when Jesus says three times to the waiting church, “I am coming soon!” (To which the church replies three times, “Come!”) It’s interesting He doesn’t say, “I will come…like, sometime around, oh, a couple of thousand years from now.” Jesus puts it in the present tense as though He were but a hairsbreadth away, all ready to part the veil of time and distance and step back into our world. It’s as though He were on His way back now.
So the kingdom of heaven, over which Jesus is and was and ever shall be King, is a place, but more so, a dimension where time and distance are not obstacles. The dying thief wasn’t transported at superhuman speed to heaven when he died. Rather, he slipped from one dimension to the next, much like Jesus slipped from one room to another, through walls or whatever.
You cannot be transported to heaven. You cannot go there in a rocket ship. You couldn’t even go there in a time machine, if there were such a thing. That’s because heaven exists beyond even speeded-up time. Traveling at a zillion miles per hour might catapult you instantly to the edge of our universe, but to take a step into the third heaven requires more. It requires something different, for our flesh and blood cannot enter heaven.
You must be born again or you cannot, as Jesus warned, “see the kingdom of God.” When the dying thief was born of the Spirit, he was given the spiritual “genes,” so to speak, of God Himself—Christ who is, was, and ever shall be. And we are too when we are Spirit-born. We, like the thief, are fit for eternity. Of course, the fine print in the contract says we must also follow the dying thief in another way and die first.
Where Is Heaven?
Heaven is close. Perhaps closer than we imagine.
It’s a little like saying to an unborn infant in his mother’s womb, “Do you realize that you are about to be born into a great big world full of mountains, rivers, and a sun and a moon? In fact, you exist in that wonderful world right now.”
“Wait a minute,” the unborn baby might say. “No way. My world is the one surrounding me. It’s soft, warm, and dark. You’ll never convince me that just a few hairbreadths outside this uterus exists this place of rivers, mountains, and a sun and moon, whatever that stuff is.”
Dear baby! There he is, safe in his little world, ignorant of the fact that a more glorious world is enclosing and encasing his. A world for which he is being fashioned. Only when he is birthed into it will he comprehend that all along his warm dark world was within it. This other place of wonderful beauty was present all the time. Only inches away.
Even this earth in all its birth pangs is about to give one last grunt and find itself born as a “new earth” in heaven. Actually, this moment, less than a hairsbreadth separates this material world from the spiritual world that is embracing earth. And like an unborn baby, we are being fashioned for the greater world into which we are about to be born (by dying, of all things!). We have a hard time believing that heaven encompasses this world, and so the Bible has to keep prodding us to fix our eyes “not on what is seen, but what is unseen.” It’s a matter of “seeing.” Using our eyes of faith.
Faith assures us that heaven is transcendent. It is beyond the limits of our experience; it exists apart from our material universe. Heaven is also immanent in that it envelopes all the celestial bodies, swirling galaxies, and the starry hosts. If we believe that God is omnipresent, then we can at least believe that what the Bible in Ephesians 2:6 calls the heavenly realms are omnipresent, as well. For where God is, the kingdom of heaven is.
As I said, heaven is closer than we imagine even though we can’t see it. I can almost see God laughing at people’s propensity to fix their eyes only on that which is seen, when in Jeremiah 23:23–24 He reminds us, “‘Am I only a God nearby,’ declares the Lord, ‘and not a God far away? Can anyone hide in secret places so that I cannot see him?’ declares the Lord. ‘Do not I fill heaven and earth?’ declares the Lord.”
One day we will take the same trip as the dying thief. We will arrive in Paradise. In the meantime we can say we operate in the realm of our omnipresent and sovereign God. In some respects, we exist in the kingdom of heaven now.
We have already come to Mount Zion, to the heavenly Jerusalem.
We have come to myriad angels in joyful assembly.
We have come to God, the judge of all men. There’s a significant part of us, the “new creature in Christ,” which lives in the present tense. Very much like our great “I Am.”
This fact makes the far and distant, near and oh so close. When we seize this reality, we understand that the air we breathe is celestial. The ground we tread is sacred. The light we enjoy is divine. Could the rustling in the trees even be the whisper of angel wings? That’s touching on romanticism, but as the Bible itself says, “[We] have come to thousands upon thousands of angels in joyful assembly” (Hebrews 12:22).
Literally.
Angels, Dark and Light
This year I took part in a nationwide prayer rally across Canada, which linked together Christian audiences by live satellite television. My role was to lead the nation in a time of repentance. I took the responsibility very seriously and asked the organizers if I could please visit the auditorium the night before.
I wheeled into the cavernous sports arena and stopped at the edge of the railing on the mezzanine level. The place was echoing with the sounds of workmen hammering and ushers rehearsing. We all knew that the next morning thousands of intercessors would fill the arena to shake the heavenly realms with their prayers. But a different kind of work needed to be done that night.
When it came time for my sound check, I wheeled to the microphone on the wooden platform still under construction. “Testing, testing,” I said as my voice boomed across the arena. Ushers, technicians, and workmen continued their routines as the sound man adjusted his volume knobs.
My eyes scanned the empty seats. I tilted my head back and squinted beyond the dark rafters. While the sound man continued his work, I began to pray into the microphone, “Lord, we know that this arena has been the scene of everything from ice hockey fights to drug deals during rock concerts. There are a lot of fallen angels…a lot of demons hanging around here, I can sense it.”
I paused in my prayer and looked over each level. I felt a keen awareness of the presence of spirit beings. It wasn’t angels. I continued to pray, this time a little louder so my amplified voice would reach the rafters. And as I did, some of the workmen stopped their drilling, and most of the ushers took seats and bowed their heads.
“Jesus, You told us in Your Word that whatever we bind on earth would be bound in heaven, and whatever we loose on earth would be released in heaven. So in Your name, we ask You to clear this place of evil spirits, and we ask You to dispatch big, powerful angels with swords drawn and shields held high to stand guard over this place. Make this sports arena a house of prayer.”
And with that, virtually everyone in the place said, “Amen!”
Some skeptics wave you off and say that such a prayer is a nice token, but merely conciliatory. They would say, “There really weren’t demons hangin’ around that place, no more than there were angels. Don’t take this stuff about the spirit world so seriously.”
Christians know better. We know that not only is heaven close, but another part of the spirit world is too. The “kingdom of the air” is heavily populated with spiritual beings; and although we only have a hint in Ephesians 2:2 or 6:12, where it describes the “spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms,” we know that they are real, powerful, and present.
But not as powerful as angels. I wish our eyes could be opened to see the heavenly realms all around us. Perhaps the reality of heaven would spring to life for us if we could peel away this layer, which is only as thick as a thin veil, and take a peek.
That once actually happened to someone. The servant of the prophet Elisha went out for a casual stroll along the top of the walled city of Dothan one morning. When he paused to enjoy the tranquil sunrise, what he saw made his blood freeze. The morning sun gleamed and flashed from countless enemy shields, arrows, and spear tips. He was struck with terror at the sight of the massive Syrian force that had come by night to surround the city. Filled with dismay, he scampered back to Elisha’s chambers and reported that the enemy army was about to launch an early morning assault.
Elisha’s reply was calm: “Do not fear, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them.” And then Elisha prayed that his servant’s eyes might be opened to see the heavenly realities all around him. The Lord answered his request and the servant saw that “the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha” (2 Kings 6:16–17).
What was true for Elisha is true for any believer. When we sing in church, “Open my eyes that I may see / Glimpses of truth Thou hast for me,” we wouldn’t believe our eyes if God answered our request. Our eyes would pop at all the hosts of angels, chariots of fire, archangels and cherubim, living creatures, and ministering spirits. A few of which are most likely within a hairsbreadth next to you now.
How Will We Relate to Angels?
The more heavenly minded I become, the more convinced I am of the presence of angels in my life, whether it’s acknowledging their whereabouts in a sports arena or calling them forth to surround the bedside of someone who is sick. Their job description has included bringing messages, as they did to the seven churches in the book of Revelation.
They aid in answering prayer, as they did with Daniel. God gets all the credit and glory, but angels mysteriously assist in the process—a case in point being Peter’s miraculous deliverance from jail.
Angels bring with them something of the presence of God, as well as help the Lord shape history. They really shine when it comes to protecting or delivering us.
Suffice to say, they’re busy.
I’m aware of this every time I drive my handicap-equipped van. Its steering and braking controls are sensitively torqued to accommodate my weak muscles in my shoulders (it doesn’t have a steering wheel, but that’s another story). When I cruise the Ventura freeway at fifty-five miles per hour, I am keenly conscious of a host of angels surrounding my van, sitting on the bumper, and holding onto the radio antenna. Maybe God has dispatched an extra few because I’m disabled, and He knows I need extra protection. How many accidents have I avoided because of those angels? When I get to heaven, I’ll find out; and I’ll thank them for all the times they “lost a few feathers” in near-misses on my behalf.
One of the best parts of heaven may be getting to know and fellow-shiping with angels. They love God and they enjoy us. In a parable about sinners gaining entrance into the kingdom of heaven, Jesus said, “I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents” (Luke 15:10). If angels rejoiced so happily over our conversion, how much more will they rejoice over us when we arrive at the foot of God’s throne. To the angels, we will be a source of eternal joy. They will see our redemption completed, from beginning to end.
I actually saw an angel once. It was 2:00 A.M. on a pitch-black night. I was wide awake, propped up in bed, and straining my ears to hear the muffled voices of my family in the bedroom directly above me. They were surrounding the bed of my five-year-old niece, Kelly, who was dying of cancer. We knew her passing into heaven could happen at any moment, but I was unable to get up the narrow stairs to say good-bye with the others. Suddenly, a brilliant golden shape that glowed whisked by the large bay window I was facing—it didn’t move from left to right, but from bottom to top. I screamed. I then searched to see if there were cars on the street outside. Nothing was there. In the next second, my sister Jay called down the steps, “Kelly’s gone!”
A few of the family came downstairs to find out why I screamed. I told them exactly what I saw. My sisters sank on the edge of my bed in amazement. We knew I had seen a large spiritual being, probably sent from heaven to escort Kelly’s soul into eternity.
We will also worship with the angels. They’ve had a lot of practice at worshiping, as well as access to heaven’s throne. They’ve seen it all. Yet when we arrive in heaven, it will be their privilege to worship with us. Just think what our worship will sound like. In Revelation 5:11–13, angels crowd before the throne, “numbering thousands upon thousands, and ten thousand times ten thousand…In a loud voice they sang: ‘Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!’”
Every time I read that verse, I recall a marvelous experience at the Moody Pastor’s Conference. I was told that the singing would be out of this world. And it was. When I wheeled onto the platform and parked near Dr. Joe Stowell and the other speakers, I scanned the auditorium of 1,800 men and got the jolt of my life. Somehow, it escaped me that I would be amongst so many, many men.
The song leader had the men stand up, spread out into the aisles, and fill the stage. When they held hymnbooks high and broke into a rousing chorus, a jet blast of sound hit me head-on. A pastor held a hymnal close so I could sing along, but I only managed half the first verse. Something forced me to stop, close my eyes, and just listen.
Never had I been so utterly surrounded by sound. It was pure and powerful, clear and deep, enveloping me, resonating through my bones, and shaking the chair in which I sat. A thunderous waterfall of perfect bass and baritone, so passionate it made my heart break.
Through tears I tried to join in the second verse, but my wispy soprano voice sounded thin and frail. I was a tiny leaf carried helplessly along a surging current, spilling over and splashing with joy, all joy and music. It was a moment of ecstasy, so serendipitous and God-anointed, that I had to step outside myself and be carried heavenward. I could do nothing but laugh through my tears and enjoy the ride. If this earthly choir moved me, how much more when our voices blend with the angels!
Angels will also serve us in heaven. Their job description in Hebrews 1:14 extends beyond just earth. Angels will be subject to us in eternity. We will reign with Jesus; and if He has been given authority over all the heavenly hosts, then we will reign over angels too. Will we govern a few legions or many? What shall we command them to do in faraway galaxies? How will they aid us on earth to help carry out the kingdom rule? I can’t say, but it’s thrilling to imagine. And since I never took ROTC in college or engaged in military service, I’m sure glad I’ll have a glorified mind to handle it. Strategic leadership will be a cinch for us and we’ll be able to rally angelic legions, as well as lead the way in doing God’s work in heaven and on earth.
One more thing. When it comes to fallen angels—demons—we will judge them. If 1 Corinthians 6:2–3 didn’t spell it out in black and white, I’d laugh at the improbability of it all; for it says, “Do you not know that the saints will judge the world? And if you are to judge the world, are you not competent to judge trivial cases? Do you not know that we will judge angels? How much more the things of this life!”
Incredible!
A verse like this makes me want to settle my differences with my husband, Ken, real fast. I’m not joking. This short but powerful Scripture is another one of those exponential statements that smack of an almost unbelievable increase in our capacity to serve, as well as our responsibility in ruling. Once again, God will blow out all formulas on proportions and put us in charge of judging fallen angels. I cringe at the idea, because on earth I’m having a tough enough time deciding who’s right in a friendly spat or who ought to get the last piece of pie or whether or not justice was served in a local court case.
Me? Judging angels? Again, I breathe a sigh of relief to know that I will have all of God’s wisdom at my disposal; otherwise, the job would send me cowering. It’s just another way we will rule with Christ in heaven.
Frankly, the idea intrigues me. There are a couple of evil spirits I can’t wait to nail. On earth, I have been so harassed by troublesome demons of temptation or evil forces who keep trying to trip me up. I’m not saying “the devil made me do it” on earth; I take full responsibility for my choices and actions. But demons sure haven’t helped. I could easily throw the book at them!
Then there are the more heinous powers and principalities of darkness who have incited wicked men to wreck havoc. These are the gruesome chief demons under Satan who for centuries have pushed evil men further into rebellion, murder, torture, and grisly massacres. The Nazi holocaust. The Armenian genocide. Stalin’s pogroms. The Spanish inquisition. And especially those forces of evil who instigated the treason and injustice behind the crucifixion of God’s own Son, even the demons who urged those drunken soldiers to slap and spit on the Second Person of the Trinity.
When I see news magazine photos of mutilated children in Rwanda, old women beaten in Bosnia, or twisted bodies in a bombed-out building in Oklahoma City, I naturally get mad at people who do such things. But when you consider who’s behind it all, I don’t vent anger at God, I get furious with the devil and his cohorts. The psalmist was speaking of evil men in Psalm 139:22, but I’ll throw in fallen angels and say, “I have nothing but hatred for them; I count them my enemies.”
These demons have had a heyday on earth for too long. I see their trademark on everything from pornography spewed from magazines to the humanism spouted from elementary school textbooks. Satan’s legions have left a dark trace on this earth, which has been gutted and denuded of its resources, leaving ugly scars on mountains and smoky trails in the air. Most of all, it hurts when I see men and women gripped in the claws of spiritism and the occult; Satan has blinded their eyes. And unless the Sovereign Lord opens the eyes of wicked men and women through our prayers and witness, they will be crushed and tormented like grapes under His wrath.
This humbles me before God.
And yes, I hate the devil.
I’m one hundred percent behind virtually every sermon Jonathan Edwards preached about hellfire and brimstone, the place God created for the devil and his followers. I can hardly wait for that glorious—yes, glorious—day when Satan and his legions will be punished and eternally tormented for their procuring the fall of mankind. One day we shall have the pleasure of demonstrating “perfect hatred,” as Scripture puts it, against the rulers, powers, and principalities of darkness.
Will There Be Envy in Heaven?
I’m speechless. To think that in addition to giving us the blessings of salvation and eternal life, God should reward us with such superior opportunities to serve Him beyond all reasonable proportion. If we think God is generous with His grace to us on earth, wait until we see Him pull out all the stops spreading far and wide His glory in heaven!
That’s why I can’t get out of my heart or head this thing about crowns. I am awed and inspired by the fact that what I do on earth will have a direct bearing on how I will serve God in heaven. The apostle Peter echoes this in his second epistle: “If you do these things…you will receive a rich welcome into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (2 Peter 1:11). Our present conduct has a bearing on our entrance into heaven and how rich our welcome will be.3
Sometimes I feel like I’m in the minor leagues, working hard to be ensured a berth somewhere in the major leagues in heaven; because what I do here affects everything there. I’m not talking about earning salvation, but about earning reward. It affects everything from how much heart will go into my eternal worship of God to the kind of job I’ll be assigned on the new earth. It even affects the way I’ll govern angels to my capacity for eternal joy and possibly the extent of my appreciation for all that Jesus has done for me and others here on earth.
I know what you’re thinking. Joni, if you are suggesting that there are degrees of responsibility or even joy in heaven, aren’t you inviting a little…envy? Won’t people get jealous if some have bigger, fancier mansions?
May I straighten out one thing? I didn’t dream up the idea of some people becoming greater in the kingdom than others, Scripture did. One of the very last things Jesus says in the final chapter of Revelation is, “Behold, I am coming soon! My reward is with me, and I will give to everyone according to what he has done.” If you’re faithful in a few things, watch out, it’s “ten cities” coming your way. If it’s a couple of talents you invest, lo and behold, the Master more than doubles your investment. God’s Word is replete with conditional statements like, “Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life” (James 1:12).
As far as envy is concerned, don’t worry. It won’t happen in heaven. Remember, we will be totally transformed. Envy will be an impossibility. We won’t drool over someone’s three-story sprawling mansion, and think we only live in a shack with a tin roof. No competing and no comparison in heaven. Still, it makes perfect sense that God will exalt those whom He chooses to honor. It’s His prerogative. And whatever He decides or whomever He chooses to lift up is fine with me. I’ll be more than happy for the godly men and women whom Christ will elevate as the most celebrated pillars in His temple.
Once after a speaking engagement, a woman came up to me to tell me how much she enjoyed my message. In her enthusiasm, she exclaimed, “You’re so wonderful. I wish I could be like you…you’ll get a great reward in heaven!”
I appreciated her accolades, but I see it differently. God is by no means impressed that I can paint with my mouth, have written books, traveled all over the world, or am on speaking terms with Billy Graham. When He sees my name on a best-seller’s list, He doesn’t get all effusive and say, “Boy, am I proud of her, chalk another one up for the lady in the wheelchair.”
I’m not discounting my painting or books or the exciting places I’ve served; I just feel that I have received a lot of my reward here on earth. I’ve enjoyed the reward of seeing the gospel go forth because of this wheelchair and of watching believers become encouraged and inspired. It is sheer ecstasy to watch Him work through my life, and I’m humbled and honored.
It’s just when it comes to heaven, I’m convinced the highest accolades will go—and should go—to godly people who have labored loyally yet received no recognition. The grand and glorious purposes for my suffering are clear to all, but some dear saints have suffered for no apparent reason. I have a Christian friend named Dorothy who has silently lived with excruciating pain for years, such incredible pain that she has nearly passed out on many occasions. It’s been agony, but she has bravely endured. I long to see her suffering atoned for when Jesus hands her a crown of life with extra jewels reserved for the saint who “perseveres under trial.”
Yes, some will be greater in the kingdom than others. What a wonderful thought! I can’t wait for the Lord to greatly honor the missionary in the back jungles of Brazil who spent fifteen years translating Scripture and then quietly moved on to the next tribe to do the same.
I want to see the Lord richly reward small-town pastors who faithfully preached every Sunday morning despite meager numbers in the pews. Better yet, pastors in China who are still suffering persecution and haven’t seen the light of day from their jail cells in years.
I hope the Lord takes highest delight in elderly grandmothers in nursing homes who didn’t dwell on their plight, but rather prayed, without fanfare, for others. Godly teenagers who held fast to their virginity, saying “no” time and again to peer pressure, intimidation, and their hormones. And moms and dads of handicapped children who, in the name of Jesus, served the family faithfully despite the day-to-day routine, isolation, and financial setbacks.
These are the real heroes and heroines over whom we will be exceedingly glad to hear the Lord say, “Well done, good and faithful servant!” When they receive their reward, I’ll stand happily on the sidelines, cheering, whistling, and applauding wildly. I may have stood up to the vicissitudes of human hardship, like pain and paralysis, but their strength of spirit more than matched, even way surpassed, mine. And do you know what will thrill me most? The obedience of these unsung heroes will raise the wattage on God’s glory. He will shine brighter because of them.
I won’t be jealous of others with brighter raiment than mine in heaven. Neither will they be envious of anyone, such as the two people picked to sit on the right or left hand of Jesus. You won’t be either. And do you know why you will be satisfied with the reward Jesus gives you? First, you’ll be pleased with whatever Jesus bestows simply because He’s Lord. Second, your perfect sense of justice will be in complete accord with the Lord’s judgment. Third, your capacity for joy will be filled to overflowing.
Your reward will be your capacity—your capacity for joy, service, and worship. Jonathan Edwards described these capacities this way: “The saints are like so many vessels of different sizes cast into a sea of happiness where every vessel is full: this is eternal life, for a man ever to have his capacity filled. But after all, ‘tis left to God’s sovereign pleasure, ‘tis his prerogative to determine the largeness of the vessel.”4
When I think of my vessel, I picture a gallon bucket into which the Lord will pour His joy until it gushes over the brim, bubbling up and effer-vescing. I’ll laugh with delight for others who will have a joy-capacity the size of a big bath tub, or a tanker truck, or a silo. Like me, they will be filled to overflowing, and we all shall be as happy as cats with nine tails!
Whether a small vial or a large vase, we shall all be spilling and splashing over with the joy of the Lord; and even those whose capacity is only the size of a thimble won’t know jealousy. We shall be fat, sassy, and satiated with joy. Constant brimming over. Happiness unspeakable in worship and service. Each of us will have complete contentment for the station our Master has allocated us in eternal life.
So, I’m fixing my eyes on Jesus and focusing on things unseen. I’m stretching my heart’s capacity for God here on earth to insure my bucket for joy in heaven will be deep and wide. I’m searching high and low in my heart to choose the right building materials, whether it be gold, silver, precious stones, or platinum-plated service. I’m down here on earth to win as many crowns as possible.
Uh-oh, you may be thinking, Joni, aren’t you being self-serving here? Isn’t focusing on gaining rewards a bit mercenary?
No. I have a clear conscience in light of 1 Corinthians 9:24, which encourages missionaries, prisoners, teenagers, moms and dads, all of us in the contest to “run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly.”
I always run for the reward harder and faster whenever I read this encouragement from Jonathan Edwards: “Persons need not and ought not to set any bounds to their spiritual and gracious appetites. Do not sow sparingly. Seek the most ample rooms in the heavenly kingdom.”5
Is it selfish to run hard in order to gain the prize? Is working toward rewards mercenary? Certainly not. Heavenly crowns are not just rewards for a job well done on earth; when your focus is on Jesus, they are the glorious fulfillment of the job itself. Just like marriage is the reward and the happy consummation of love, and a medal of honor is the reward given at the end of a victorious battle, so it will be with heaven’s crowns. A reward is the cherry and whipped-cream topping of the pleasure of serving God down here on earth. It is the joy of sticking to the call He gave at the beginning.
Heaven is one big reward. Gift after gift after gift.
In the second and third chapters of Revelation, God unfolds the rewards He has reserved in heaven for you and me, His overcomers. My friend, Margaret Clarkson, takes a stab at describing each reward when she suggests:
He will give us the fruit of the tree of life, the hidden manna—what food that will be for souls that hunger and thirst for God! The white stone, with the new and secret name known only to God and the soul that receives it—what infinite value He must set on individuality of personality to know each one of His overcomers so personally and so intimately!
The white raiment, forever spotless—what a joy after this life of soiling and defeat! The pillar in God’s temple eternally erect—what a strength after this pilgrimage of weakness and failure! To receive the Morning Star, sweet synonym for the Savior’s own person; to be given the holy name of God Himself and the name of His city and the new name of the Lamb—only a God like ours could have designed rewards such as these!
And only the Head that was crowned with thorns could fashion such crowns of life, righteousness, and glory…what can we do but fall down before Him who sits upon the throne and worship Him forever and ever?6
I have an idea that when we step into eternity, I won’t be the only one who, with new resurrected legs, will drop on grateful glorified knees. Tens of thousands will have the same idea. Our knees will kneel on jade and jasper. Our feet will walk on gold. Our hands will touch walls of sapphires and emeralds. We will feel utterly at home in the golden throne room of the King.
But wait. At home? In a glittering throne room? A mansion made of sardonyx and chrysolite doesn’t sound very homey, let alone comfortable. Even after looking at these pictures of what heaven will be like and sensing how it will feel on that “great-gettin’-up-day” for all of us in the future, one thought may still be nagging: Will I fit? Will heaven really be like home?