Keep us in the fellowship of your love, O God.
Amen.
If you were to walk around downtown and randomly ask people what Christianity is all about, what do you think they might say? If you try it, let me know what responses you get. Surveys suggest that we’d probably hear some “it’s about following Jesus,” a few “it’s about loving God and your neighbor,” as well as some “it’s about eternal life.” As Episcopalians, I suspect that we’re good with the definitions that include Jesus and love, but are less certain about the focus on eternal life because of the exclusionary aspects of those who focus on that. As we are concluding reading through the letter of First John in Eastertide, eternal life is precisely what this letter is building towards, as we heard: “I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God, so that you may know that you have eternal life.”
But
what does eternal life mean? When it comes to the “life” part – that’s
something we fight about and have the Supreme Court decide for us. We aren’t
always clear about what life is, when it begins, and under what circumstances
it is permissible for us to end a life. In this sermon, I’m going to focus on
the “eternal” side of the phrase. But when you stop and try to define what “life”
means, you realize that it’s quite a slippery idea; it’s hard to pin down. For our
purpose today, life is an active and conscious connection with God. I’m sure
you can come with all sorts of exceptions, but let’s go with that.
If
we debate and argue about what “life” means, when it comes to the word “eternal”
we misunderstand it. Often, “eternal” is defined as being perpetual,
everlasting, or even timeless. So, eternal life is seen as life that has no
end; life that goes on into infinity. We might think that eternal life is the
reward given to us by God in which, after we die, our bodiless soul goes to
heaven where it is kept safe with God for a timeless eternity. And that would
be a great definition of eternal life if this was Plato’s Academy of Salisbury.
We
have been overly influenced by Greek philosophical categories while ignoring
Jewish religious ways of understanding the world. Jesus, and his followers,
were Jewish. Their Scriptures were Genesis and Isaiah, not Aristotle and
Socrates. Some of the most unfortunate distortions and confusions that
Christians have about our faith today come from approaching faith from a perspective
that is foreign and contrary to Scripture. And I realize how jarring this can
be – to be told that eternal life isn’t about going to heaven when you die. If
it feels like I’m pulling the rug out from underneath you in terms of what you’ve
been taught to think about eternal life, I promise, the grace of God, which is more
glorious than we can ask for or imagine, will catch us.
In
the Hebrew mindset, “eternal” describes the age of the Messiah. Creation is
understood (and I say “is understood” not “was understood,” because this is
still a vibrant way of thinking, a way that is Scripturally sound) as being
divided into two eras or ages. There is the Present Age and the Age to Come. The
Present Age is one in which we contend with suffering, evil, Sin, and Death. It
is the age that began when Adam and Eve, even if metaphorically understood, ate
from the fruit of the forbidden tree in the Garden. The Present Age is the
canvas that holds all of history as we know it.
The
Age to Come, or the Messianic Age, is what the Jewish prophets were pointing
towards. The Age to Come is an age of healing, redemption, peace, and justice.
When Jesus comes onto the scene in the gospels and announces “The Kingdom of
God has come near,” this is what he is declaring – that, in him, the Age to Come
now is. And unlike the philosophical way of thinking of things as either this
or that, these two ages can and do intersect. We can think of it like a Venn
diagram – there was a time prior to the Messiah, which is the Present Age. The Age
to Come was inaugurated by Jesus and continues to this very moment. And there
will be a time in which the Present Age fades away and the Age to Come is
fulfilled. That last stage is the vision given in Revelation of a renewed
heaven that comes down to earth.
Another
way to name this Messianic Age to Come, when the lion and the lamb lie down
together, when the sheep and the goats are separated, when the earth is filled
with the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea, when all things have
been made well, is “eternal life.” And what is so crucial to understand about this
Hebrew notion of eternal life that Jesus and his followers spoke about is that
it can co-exist with the Present Age. Eternal life does not begin after death –
eternal life began when the Word became flesh. We live in both ages, in the
overlap between the Present Age and the Age to Come.
In the Church, we speak
of Easter as the dawning of the New Creation. Easter is when the window that
lets us peer into the fullness of the age to come is cracked open. Easter gives
us a glimpse of what the fullness of Resurrection is like – when Death is no
more, when sorrow, and crying, and pain are no more. Easter is how we know what
eternal life looks like.
Now,
lest this sound like theological talk that has no practical relevance for our
lives, let’s think through what the implications of such a worldview mean.
First, it completely changes the meaning of the word “salvation.” No longer can
we view salvation as a deferred gift that we receive after we have died.
Salvation is not something that applies to a soul and not a body. We are not
saved from the world into heaven. No, we are saved in this world by the
inbreaking of heaven into this life and world. Salvation is the gift of living in
the love of God. It’s been right under our noses the whole time – this is precisely
what we pray all the time in the Lord’s Prayer: “Thy kingdom come on earth as
it is in heaven.” If the goal and destination were to get our souls to heaven,
the prayer would be “Bring us to thy kingdom in heaven as we flee this earth.”
But that’s not the prayer that Jesus gives us, not even close.
What
this means is that salvation is not a reward as much as it is a tool. If we
think of eternal life as the carrot, or the stick, that we are constantly
chasing, then we tragically miss out on the gift of life. It would be like
using the rules of Blackjack only to find out we were playing Poker. Salvation
is not something ahead of us, it is something all around us. We do not have to
die in order to be with Jesus; of course not, Jesus is always with us – in the
faces of one another, in the breaking of the bread, in acts of generosity, and in
sacrifices of love.
Most
significantly, what this means is that all of life matters. Just imagine how
life would be different if, instead of trying to get to heaven when we die, we
trusted that heaven is all around us and is something to be enjoyed and
experienced today?
In our house, May 4th,
Star Wars Day, is as significant of a holiday as any other. So we went this
past weekend to watch the 25th-anniversary rerelease of “The Phantom
Menace” in theaters. In it, Padme, the mother of Luke Skywalker, is the queen
of a planet, but disguises herself as a servant while a decoy plays the role of
the queen. This is for her protection in the event of an assassination attempt.
Throughout the movie, characters appeal to what the queen would want, even
though it’s clearly not what she wants. The queen was in their presence the
whole time, and they had no idea. When she finally reveals her identity, there
is a sense of “if we had only known” among the characters.
It
makes for a good movie, but it’s a tragic way to be a Christian. You all know
that I’m quite fond of the poem that says, “Earth’s crammed with heaven, and
every common bush afire with God. But only they who see take off their shoes,
the rest sit round and pluck blackberries.” Another poem, one that I shared
last night at Sacred Space is by Mary Oliver: “I have refused to live locked in
the orderly house of reasons and proofs. / The world I live in and believe in is
wider than that. / And anyway, what’s wrong with Maybe? / You wouldn’t believe
what once or twice I have seen. / I’ll just tell you this: only if there are
angels in your head will you ever, possibly, see one.”
If
we know and trust that we are living in the Age the Come, the Messianic age,
the New Creation, eternal life, then we will see signs of it all around us. We
will have occasions for joy even in sorrow, for hope even in difficulties, for
forgiveness even in conflict, for generosity even in scarcity, for love even in
fear, for trust even in doubts, for life even in death. But if we think that eternal
life happens later, we just might miss out on it.
In Eastertide, we’ve been
focusing on evangelism – and this is what we are to witness to: burning bushes,
angels among us, the kingdom coming on earth as it is in heaven. If we
misunderstand eternal life, we will woefully misunderstand evangelism. We aren’t
telling people to make sure they have the right ticket to get on the escalator up
instead of the elevator down, nor are we giving people a promise about
something that will come to them later if they play their cards right. No, we
have something real and tangible to offer in evangelism. Instead of life being
something to endure, Easter assures us that eternal life is all around us. We
are given holy vocations to participate in instead of worrying about finding
ourselves or our true purpose. Our true purpose is just this: to participate in
the kingdom that exists on earth as it does in heaven. Life is a gift given so
that we can enjoy and share in the abundant and eternal love of God.
This
gift of life and love is always a gift of grace. As we heard, “if we receive human
testimony, the testimony of God is greater.” Meaning that we do not determine
our own worthiness or belonging. You might doubt whether or not you are lovable
or deserving; others might have more degrees, more money, or more prestige, but
they do not have more love. You belong to God and are loved by God as you are –
for God created you and God does not make mistakes. It is never too late to
embrace our belovedness and participate in our belonging. The testimony of God’s
love for you is the truest thing about any of us.
What
this all means is that the holiest work that we can do, the things that are
worth our fullest attention and energy are the signposts of the kingdom –
things like generosity, forgiveness, compassion, companionship, and justice. Peace
is not locked up in the future, it is something to embrace and pursue now. Reconciliation
need not be put off, but is something to enjoy now. Something that I’ve told
people who have left St. Luke’s after a conflict is “One day, we’re going to be
reconciled to one another. How much sweeter it would be if we could enjoy that reconciliation
now and be symbols of the Spirit’s power working in us?” Justice is not something
that God will usher in later, it is the way of love that we are given to walk
right now.
All
of this is only plausible or possible if we understand that eternal life is
about now, not later. Indeed, Christianity is a worthless, and maybe even a
dangerous, sect if we think that eternal life is only a future promise and not
a present reality. Faith is not an escape plan from the earth to heaven, it is
the means by which God is bringing heaven to earth. If we get that direction
wrong, we’ll get everything else wrong as well.
As we’ve seen throughout this letter of First John, the way that we participate in the New Creation and eternal life is love. This letter is only five chapters long and the word “love” appears 46 times; that’s nearly every other verse. So we might understand eternal life as knowing we are God’s beloved and sharing this love with others. We would never say “Eh, I’ll wait until I’m dead to love;” we also ought not to believe the lie that eternal life is something only for the dead. After all, it would be a tragedy to die and find out that we had never truly lived.
