Eternal Life, Part 2
Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven… Matthew 5:12a (NRSV)
Last week, I wrote that the gateway to eternal life is the present moment, a concept that has been around for millennia. In Christian circles, the terms eternal life and heaven are often used synonymously. Their similarities include being poorly understood and deceptively applied. Eternity is generally believed to be a never-ending extension of time as we imagine it. Heaven is imagined as a place of eternal bliss where people who live a “good Christian life” go when they die. The misunderstandings about eternal life and heaven are rooted in our misunderstandings about time and space, fueled by our fear of death and suffering.
The idea of eternal life softens the blunt reality of death as an unavoidable part of life. If we fear that physical death is annihilation, eternal life is the antidote. Likewise, the idea of heaven acts as a balm or compensation for our suffering on earth. Our suffering, including our concern for the suffering of others, eases when we believe suffering has a higher, holier purpose. Death and suffering, from a human perspective, are the greatest injustices in life. They violate our concepts of fairness and goodness. In order to maintain a belief that God is loving and compassionate, we trust in future reparations that will right the perceived wrongs of the past and present. And it is not that reparations do not exist, only that they do not exist where we assume them to be – in the future. In other words, the traditional concepts of eternal life and heaven remove us from the tangible reality of the present moment, pointing toward an imagined future state that, like tomorrow, can never actually arrive.
The shared deception of eternal life and heaven is their future-orientation. Indeed, looking ahead is a cultural epidemic. The anxiety so prevalent today finds millions of people looking beyond what is present now toward what they imagine lies ahead. The present moment holds little interest when glossed over. It is not that great experiences do not unfold before us, but that we only experience great unfoldings in the present moment. There is nothing else. There is nowhere else. A bit of wisdom I remember from decades ago is “If you cannot find happiness where you are standing, where do you expect to wander in search of it?”[1] It reveals the lie of some imaginary place other than here and a time other than now.
Entering and living in the present moment seems like it should be easy and natural. But for us, it is not. Mostly unconscious waves of depressive thoughts about our past and anxious worries about the future dominate our conscious attention. Concerns over what we think we lack overpower the awareness of all we have. Regardless of whether this is learned behavior or something embedded in our DNA, we are capable of steering our conscious attention to the present moment with focus and persistence. Interestingly, our depressive thoughts and future anxieties are only real when we attend to them in the present moment. Otherwise, they float away like fallen leaves in a stream. When our conscious attention is elsewhere, as it usually is, we fall out of sync with reality, as we usually are, and that which is real and present in the moment becomes unconscious to us. We cannot enter or participate in the depth, fullness, and countless possibilities of the moment without being conscious to it.
Everyone has occurrences of being focused in the moment, if only in brief stints. Such occurrences are found in our most intense experiences. They occur whenever something in the here and now knocks us out of our imaginary dream-world. Clock and calendar time may slow down, speed up, or stop all together. Aches, pains, and worries may disappear – or intensify. The colors around us may brighten or dull significantly. Such experiences include falling in love, losing a loved one, receiving a terminal diagnosis, watching a spectacular sunset, or countless other events, including mundane occurrences seen with new eyes. To enter a moment we must surrender to it as it is, right here, right now. Often, we must be shocked into conscious awareness. Our surrender allows what is to mold us to itself, willingly or reluctantly. It syncs our awareness to the reality around us so new possibilities can emerge. Even moments of deepest pain and grief can open to incredible depths worth exploring and experiencing when we cease fighting and fearing them. We are reluctant to consciously traverse our pain to its origins for fear it will worsen. But pain signals important changes occurring within us, and internal change becomes increasingly unpleasant as we refuse to engage it.
Everything we need for fulfillment is present in the eternality of the moment. Heaven is here and now, not there and then. When something appears to be lacking, we only have yet to awaken to its nearness.
This is the 31st in a series of Life Notes on Time and Eternity. The opinions expressed are mine. To engage with me or to explore contemplative spiritual direction, contact me at ghildenbrand@sunflower.com.
Upcoming Contemplative Events, free and open to all:
Taize-style Contemplative Service: Reflective readings, music, and silence; Friday, December 1, First United Methodist Church (FUMC), 946 Vermont, Lawrence, KS, 6:00 pm.
Contemplative Advent Class: Exploring Christmas through a different lens. Saturday mornings at 9:30 am, beginning on December 2; FUMC Celebration Center, 867 Hwy 40, Lawrence, KS.
Mass on the World: A contemplative celebration of the winter solstice. Saturday, December 16 at 7:30 am; FUMC Celebration Center, 867 Hwy 40, Lawrence, KS.
Longest Night Service: An service of reflection on loss; Thursday, December 21 at 7:00 pm; FUMC Celebration Center, 867 Hwy 40, Lawrence, KS.
[1] I no longer remember the source of this saying.
Contemplating Grace 