When I get to Heaven, I want to be bald

[WRideout]

Here is a sermon I did for a seminary assignment quite a while ago. I thought I would post it in installments, since it is rather long.

Wayne

WHEN I GET TO HEAVEN, I WANT TO BE BALD

Verse: Matthew 22: 30-33

I was born and raised in the Golden State of California (I hope no one here holds that against me). It is a large and diverse state with large areas of wilderness, even yet. I spent my college years at Chico State University, north of Sacramento, right on the banks of the Sacramento River, which drains the vast interior. Now, it was while in college that I discovered a diabolical scheme to prevent me from obtaining a higher education. At precisely the same time every year, everything happens all at once; school begins, hunting season commences, and the beginnings of the winter run of salmon and steelhead come into the river. What is a young man to do with all those choices? Fortunately I was able to shoehorn some schoolwork in between my forays into the outdoors, or I wouldn't be speaking here today.

I actually caught a King salmon once. It was during the Christmas break from school, while still rather cold outside. It was an amazing catch, considering that I had fished a solid year without a keeper. The Pacific Salmon, as you may know, is an unusual fish. For the salmon has a most unique life cycle. After the young are hatched from eggs in mountain streams, far from the ocean, they feed for a time and travel downstream eventually entering the Pacific. They live for several years in the ocean, following schools of baitfish, but after a time, they feel the urge to reproduce their kind. So they gather in schools, and travel to the mouth of the stream they came from, then swim upstream to the waters where they were born. They spawn, leaving the fertilized eggs to grow and develop. But most peculiar of all, after they have completed this duty, and insured the future of the species, they simply die. There are biological reasons for this, and scientists do not even yet understand the process completely. But the salmon of course know nothing about science; they only do what salmon must do.

There are some people who believe the same holds true for them. According to them, there is no life beyond what we know on earth. If we live on, it is through our children, so they say. I sometimes wonder about people who believe this sad and somewhat cynical philosophy. Who believe that all we have is the here and now; that when we die, our bodies decompose like the salmon on a stream bank. Where does one find courage to do the difficult things, when doing so might put oneself in mortal danger? Where does one find hope, in the midst of hopelessness? These are hard questions.

Unless, that is, you understand and believe the promises of our risen Savior, Jesus Christ. For in his life, death, and resurrection, we can see the model for what will happen to all who believe in him. Jesus himself tells us in the Book of John Chapter 14, verses one and two, "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you." As children of the risen Christ, we have assurance that we are invited for all eternity to the place where he dwells; a place we sometimes call "heaven".

[Boaz]

Thank you Wayne , I enjoyed it !

[WRideout]

Unless, that is, you understand and believe the promises of our risen Savior, Jesus Christ. For in his life, death, and resurrection, we can see the model for what will happen to all who believe in him. Jesus himself tells us in the Book of John Chapter 14, verses one and two, "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you." As children of the risen Christ, we have assurance that we are invited for all eternity to the place where he dwells; a place we sometimes call "heaven".

That is all well and good, you may say, but I don't understand what all this means. If we believe in the Apostle's Creed, it says, "I believe in the resurrection of the body". How does this happen? What does it mean when I die? I believe that in the end, for those who die in Christ, only a few things are really important: first, we are resurrected as individuals, second, we are transformed, third, we will know each other, and fourth, we will know God.

In the Book of Isaiah, we are told that before we were formed in the womb, God knew us. Each of us. We are born into our humanity as individuals. We are born, live and die, as individuals. God calls to us to be saved through Christ our Lord, as individuals. But more than that, Christ himself is the example. When God decided to change the world, he did not send a cloud to cover the earth nor an earthquake to cause havoc. He sent a man. This man, his own son, was born, lived, died and was resurrected. This is the model for all mankind.

[WRideout]

Thank you Wayne , I enjoyed it !

Thanks; more coming.
Wayne

[WRideout]

So if we are resurrected as individuals, what is it that gets resurrected, and when? Some early Christians believed that the atoms of which we are made would be pulled together and infused with life, to spend eternity in a heaven that looked a lot like the good places they had known on earth. It's a comforting thought, isn't it? But logic might indicate that there may be something else going on.

As a medic in the army, and later as a hospital orderly, I was privileged to watch several people die. I say that in all sincerity. Most people in modern society never have that experience; the care of the dying is left up to professionals these days. But the experience of observing a death is life changing for the observer. I can never again take it for granted that there will always be a tomorrow.
Something happens in that moment, when the force that brings life to the body departs. Call it soul, spirit, or life force; there is some transformation that we can scarcely comprehend. When the body is damaged and worn, and God calls us home, we go as pure spiritual beings, without the need to care for the cast-off body anymore

[WRideout]

All of which could be pretty depressing. I rather like my body, actually. It's not perfect, but it suits me. My wife has tried to tell me that I am going bald, but I know I just have a high forehead. I don't mind that I am showing my years. My friends all know my face, and can recognize my voice. Which is exactly how it will be in heaven. Not that we will have a body just like this one, but in our resurrected, transformed individuality, we will know each other.

I had a lot of time to reflect on this a while ago, as I cared for a dying friend during the last two months of his life. Earl and I did not spend a lot of time together, but as God would have it, we were together for a season. When Earl passed on, I grieved for the loss of his companionship, but I was not desolate, because God has given us promises that I hold dear. I can actually explain this a little better by reading for you the eulogy that I gave at the funeral for Earl Metzler.

"Earl was the first person I met at the Methodist Church. At first I thought it was just a coincidence, but as time went on, I began to realize that God had put us together. We were outwardly different, but I grew to know we had a closeness of heart.
He was a first century Christian who cared for others and loved his enemies. In spite of his brief education, he was a deep thinker who grappled with complex mechanical problems. He wanted to change the world, but do it in his own way. It is a great irony that he never really understood that his thirty-year service as a Sunday schoolteacher would be his lasting legacy.
He was as ready to meet his Lord as anyone could be. Indeed, he had been ready since the accident that nearly took his life as a young man. The years we have had with Earl since that day have been a blessing from God.
Earl considered himself first and foremost an aviator. I think that he must have felt closer to God while he was flying. He has taken wing again, and is in the company of those he loved, who have gone before him.
While we will miss his gentle presence, our hope is that we will all be together again, someday."

[USMC87]

I have truly enjoyed the message thus far.

[GhostHawk]

Good sermon.

[WRideout]

This knowledge that we will all be together someday gives us hope, strength, and courage for daily living. We can face the dark times and raging passions of this earth, knowing that ultimately we will be gathered into the fold with those we love. And in this gathering, we will know God.
Christ has promised, where I am, there you will be, also. Surely this must be a wonderful place. But what is it like? We can't examine it with our senses; we can't see or hear or smell or touch anything in heaven. So how do we describe a place that is indescribable? We must do what people have long done in this situation; we use analogies to compare what we can't know, to something we are very familiar with.

[WRideout]

So, I've got this analogy I carry around in my head. It's not perfect, but it's mine, and I'll keep it until I get something better. It goes like this: On the coast of California, overlooking the Pacific Ocean is a mansion, known as San Simeon.

The former home of publishing tycoon William Randolph Hearst, it is now a state park. It is an immense and ornate complex; an art museum masquerading as a house. It is filled with the finest arts and crafts of Europe, collected over any years. In front is La Casa Grande, the main hall, a large and highly decorated palace, with spires, carved stone, and statues. But my favorite area is in the back where the numerous guest cottages sit quietly. Lavishly decorated, they were meant for individual guests to stay for a time. The setting is unbelievably beautiful, on a grassy hilltop far from the grimy city.

[WRideout]

I'm trying to post some pictures; bear with me.
Wayne

[WRideout]

So, if this were heaven, there we would be. A great cloud of witnesses. Multitudes of believers; and we would all need to get acquainted. So we would walk about (in my imagination spirits walk more or less normally) and meet the others. No one is impatient, because Lord knows, we've got time. I'll have my balding head, and ample girth; maybe by this time a surgical scar or two. I won't really mind if I get to heaven looking a little less than physically perfect, because I want the others to know that I have really lived. We begin to migrate away from the guesthouses toward La Casa Grande, which seems to be filled with a bright light, as if a sun were inside. We enter, and find to our amazement that it is the Father, with his son, our Lord, seated on the right. We shuffle forward, in reverent worship. And when each soul stands before the Son of God, with all the marks of pain and suffering still visible, but no longer painful, the Son will reach forward, and touch them on the shoulder with his nail-scarred hand, and say "I too was human".


We as Christians have a wonderful hope. Life on earth is not an end in itself; rather it is only a beginning. We do not lose those we love; we wait to meet them again. And even though there are hardships and suffering, it is bearable, because our Lord also suffered. He is the light we see in the distance, the guidepost on our journey to eternal peace. Amen.