With apologies to Belinda Carlisle – the 80s chanteuse known primarily as a Go-Go in severe need of a vacation, and a fine mimic of the yellow-rumped warbler (the warbling part) – heaven is not a place on earth. Nor is it tucked away behind Jupiter, hanging out on the outer rim of the Milky Way (although deep-fried Milky Way’s might just be on the heavenly menu), or anywhere near one of Carl Sagan’s “billions and billions of stars.” Sorry, Carl, but even your cosmos isn’t big enough to contain the glory of God.
Discussions about heaven tend to be an amalgam of myths, assumptions and facts gleaned from repeated skimmings of Mitch Albom’s The Five People You Meet in Heaven at the airport gift shop. Unfortunately, for those who prefer their afterlife options delineated in exacting detail, the Bible only offers a few, rather general revelations about the Lord’s grand co-op – which, as the abode of God, exists in a perfect state of perfect perfection. But I wager (metaphorically speaking, so relax, Baptists) many people don’t take the time to consider what that really means, at least not beyond the “no more tears, sin, etc.” bits.
Luckily for you, I’m here to fill in the blanks on some of the finer details where the devil most decidedly is not.
In John 14:2, Jesus said, “In my Father’s house are many mansions.” While we don’t know how many bedrooms, kitchens, bowling alleys, game rooms, walk-in closets or indoor go-kart tracks said mansions will contain (I’ve requested a multi-story tornado slide for mine), I guarantee that not a single room will be a bathroom. Think about the implications of this statement and rejoice accordingly.
Will we need food in heaven? Most scholars – who are generally a thin, tweedy bunch – say no. Our bodies, now glorified and free from the ravages of sin, will need no physical sustenance. I, however, say if God didn’t want chicken fried steak to exist in heaven, he wouldn’t have made it so tasty on earth. Only in heaven, fat will be a blessed substance that firms your thighs. As the old hymn goes, “When we’ve been there ten thousand years, I’ll have eaten 1.63 trillion bacon, egg and cheese biscuits.” Amen.
No more shaving.
The streets paved with gold will be accident free. Sure, I assume teleportation will be the default mode of transport in heaven, but I don’t think God used the nanonanosecond it took to pave the byways in 24k just for looks. Which means I’ll finally get to own a motorcycle and not have to worry about getting T-boned by Gary Busey.
We will never again forget to spring forward or fall back.
When I trek to the heavenly Best Buy to purchase an infinite-capacity iPod, I won’t have to buy an extended warranty. Or the iPod. Because the music will play in my head and come out my ears for all to enjoy. (Don’t worry, I have good taste.) Top that, Steve Jobs.
The necks of T-shirts won’t get stretched out after one wearing. There will be no term for “nose hair.” People on Segways will only look half as goofy. The settings on your toaster will actually produce something besides “bread” and “charcoal.” Cell phone bills will make sense.
But now I’m just being silly.
Nonetheless, it seems like many people have very odd ideas about heaven and its less-popular evil twin, Simon Cowell. I mean, hell. For example, a lot of folks wonder if their pets will be in heaven. I’ve actually heard serious theological discussions on the matter in regards to souls, sanctification, etc. The fact is, we just don’t know if the pearly gates will swing open for Mr. Snoogies (at which point the heavenly host will spend several millennia trying to coax the Snoogster inside). I hope all dogs, my now-departed pet pigs (not a joke) and maybe a couple of cats go to heaven. But if they don’t, guess what? You won’t miss them. Because heaven is, say it with me, perfect.
Hell, on the other hand, is not a place one should look forward to visiting, let alone taking up permanent residence. Contrary to opinions offered by countless dudes in sleeveless Molly Hatchet shirts, hell is not going be one big rock ‘n’ roll kegger featuring a non-stop Battle of the Bands. Sorry, Beavis, but hell won’t even be a “Far Side” cartoon.
I have my own theory as to why God chose not to reveal too much about the saints’ capital city: If we really knew what it was like, we’d focus more on it and less on Him. And without Him, heaven really would be just like any other place on earth. Only without restrooms.