Life after death
08/06/15 05:30
When I have the opportunity to listen to people speak frankly about their beliefs and doubts, a topic that frequently comes up is the afterlife. One blog post won’t do justice to the conversations that I’ve shared over the years but there are some interesting points that might stir further conversation. After all, our people have been raising questions about life and death for thousands of years. Our Bible is filled with conversations and different points of view on the topic and there is certainly room for continuing conversation.
From the Biblical record it seems that the earliest generations of our people focused primarily on the passage of traits from one generation to another. A parent lived on in the lives of children and grandchildren. The promise of God is not just to Abraham and Sarah, but to the generations that were to follow after them. Early in the story it is evident that God’s relationship to the people is a multiple-generation process. The promise of descendants as numerous as grains of sand on the shore and of a land flowing with milk and honey is not fulfilled in Abraham and Sarah’s lifetime. When Sarah dies, Abraham is landless and has to negotiate to purchase a plot of land for her burial. Their descendants remain wanderers for many generations before Joshua leads them into the land. In the meantime they have suffered all kinds of experiences including slavery and forced labor.
It is easy for a casual observer to see the ways in which legacy is passed from generation to generation. We can hear the voice of the father in the words of the son. We can see personality characteristics of a mother in her daughter. Each of us can see evidence of our parents in the lives that we live. Living on in subsequent generations and remembering the lineage - the history of our people - becomes an important part of preserving our identity. We also know about the ways in which genetics are passed from generation to generation through the discoveries of modern science.
A second kind of immortality that is evident in Biblical teaching is that we live on in the work that we do. There are projects that can be undertaken that will last longer than the span of our human lives. Well-constructed buildings can endure several lifetimes. Work that was done by people hundreds of years ago is still evident in cities around the world. The great pyramids still stand millennia after their construction. Psalm 90 speaks of “establishing” the work of our hands. We seek to do good work - work that will endure.
I often speak of these two kinds of living on beyond the span of one’s life in funeral services. Seeing the impact of a loved one in one’s own life is comforting at the time of loss and grief. Knowing that there are contributions that extend beyond the life of the loved one can help ease the pain of loss.
These forms of thinking about life beyond death, however, fall short in several critical ways.
When I was in seminary I studied apocalyptic literature and was struck by the difference in how victims and oppressors wrote about the end of time. The belief in a final judgment with the imposition of heavenly justice often came from people who had suffered deep injustice. There is a clear sense that there are wrongs that can occur that cannot be corrected by human justice systems. The wrongful death of a loved one cannot be somehow fixed or repaired. The pain of loss endures regardless of the judgment of courts or the punishments given to the perpetrator of the crime. You cannot undo the reality of death. Killing the killer does not make the pain of loss stop. You don’t “get over” the loss of a loved one.
Humans are capable of unspeakable violence and destruction. It isn’t just that a single murder occurs - history reveals examples of mass murder and of other injustices that can never be set right by human systems of compensation and justice.
It is often from the victims of these great injustices that arises a belief in justice from God that exceeds human capabilities. That which has been set wrong in this life will be set right in a life to come. It is almost as if the quest for justice is too big for a single lifetime and that there are times when one must carry a belief in an afterlife and an ultimate justice just to endure that pain and sorrow of the injustices of this life.
The resurrection of Jesus, however, is in an entirely different category than any of these other notions of life after death. The experiences of the early disciples with meals, conversations, and even show travels with Jesus in bodily form after his death form only part of our understanding of resurrection. After the passing of a generation, the real presence of Jesus in this world is not dependent on a physical immortality. The resurrected Christ is not just a human body that has somehow exceeded the normal limitations of flesh. It isn’t some kind of biological anomaly, but rather a gift of life and presence that exceeds the boundaries of death.
We’ve never been good at explaining resurrection in words - it stretches the limits of human logic. What we lack in ability to explain, however, is exceeded by the power of experience. For two thousand years our people have shared the experience of the presence of Christ in our midst. It is abundantly clear to us that we are a part of something that is much bigger than the span of a single generation.
I’ve never invested much energy in trying to describe what lies beyond this life that we know. I’ve always been a realist about the presence of death. I’ve experienced enough grief to know that the pain of loss is real. But I have also belonged to our people long enough to know that this is not the end - and that the story of our people does not conclude when my time on this earth is over.
I’m comfortable with trusting God to reveal the next phase in God’s way and in God’s time. In the meantime, I’ll continue to listen and wonder.
From the Biblical record it seems that the earliest generations of our people focused primarily on the passage of traits from one generation to another. A parent lived on in the lives of children and grandchildren. The promise of God is not just to Abraham and Sarah, but to the generations that were to follow after them. Early in the story it is evident that God’s relationship to the people is a multiple-generation process. The promise of descendants as numerous as grains of sand on the shore and of a land flowing with milk and honey is not fulfilled in Abraham and Sarah’s lifetime. When Sarah dies, Abraham is landless and has to negotiate to purchase a plot of land for her burial. Their descendants remain wanderers for many generations before Joshua leads them into the land. In the meantime they have suffered all kinds of experiences including slavery and forced labor.
It is easy for a casual observer to see the ways in which legacy is passed from generation to generation. We can hear the voice of the father in the words of the son. We can see personality characteristics of a mother in her daughter. Each of us can see evidence of our parents in the lives that we live. Living on in subsequent generations and remembering the lineage - the history of our people - becomes an important part of preserving our identity. We also know about the ways in which genetics are passed from generation to generation through the discoveries of modern science.
A second kind of immortality that is evident in Biblical teaching is that we live on in the work that we do. There are projects that can be undertaken that will last longer than the span of our human lives. Well-constructed buildings can endure several lifetimes. Work that was done by people hundreds of years ago is still evident in cities around the world. The great pyramids still stand millennia after their construction. Psalm 90 speaks of “establishing” the work of our hands. We seek to do good work - work that will endure.
I often speak of these two kinds of living on beyond the span of one’s life in funeral services. Seeing the impact of a loved one in one’s own life is comforting at the time of loss and grief. Knowing that there are contributions that extend beyond the life of the loved one can help ease the pain of loss.
These forms of thinking about life beyond death, however, fall short in several critical ways.
When I was in seminary I studied apocalyptic literature and was struck by the difference in how victims and oppressors wrote about the end of time. The belief in a final judgment with the imposition of heavenly justice often came from people who had suffered deep injustice. There is a clear sense that there are wrongs that can occur that cannot be corrected by human justice systems. The wrongful death of a loved one cannot be somehow fixed or repaired. The pain of loss endures regardless of the judgment of courts or the punishments given to the perpetrator of the crime. You cannot undo the reality of death. Killing the killer does not make the pain of loss stop. You don’t “get over” the loss of a loved one.
Humans are capable of unspeakable violence and destruction. It isn’t just that a single murder occurs - history reveals examples of mass murder and of other injustices that can never be set right by human systems of compensation and justice.
It is often from the victims of these great injustices that arises a belief in justice from God that exceeds human capabilities. That which has been set wrong in this life will be set right in a life to come. It is almost as if the quest for justice is too big for a single lifetime and that there are times when one must carry a belief in an afterlife and an ultimate justice just to endure that pain and sorrow of the injustices of this life.
The resurrection of Jesus, however, is in an entirely different category than any of these other notions of life after death. The experiences of the early disciples with meals, conversations, and even show travels with Jesus in bodily form after his death form only part of our understanding of resurrection. After the passing of a generation, the real presence of Jesus in this world is not dependent on a physical immortality. The resurrected Christ is not just a human body that has somehow exceeded the normal limitations of flesh. It isn’t some kind of biological anomaly, but rather a gift of life and presence that exceeds the boundaries of death.
We’ve never been good at explaining resurrection in words - it stretches the limits of human logic. What we lack in ability to explain, however, is exceeded by the power of experience. For two thousand years our people have shared the experience of the presence of Christ in our midst. It is abundantly clear to us that we are a part of something that is much bigger than the span of a single generation.
I’ve never invested much energy in trying to describe what lies beyond this life that we know. I’ve always been a realist about the presence of death. I’ve experienced enough grief to know that the pain of loss is real. But I have also belonged to our people long enough to know that this is not the end - and that the story of our people does not conclude when my time on this earth is over.
I’m comfortable with trusting God to reveal the next phase in God’s way and in God’s time. In the meantime, I’ll continue to listen and wonder.