HEAVEN:
THE LOGIC of ETERNAL JOY
Jerry L. Walls
CONTENTS
Introduction / 21. Heaven and God's Goodness / 11
2. Heaven, the Nature of Salvation, and Purgatory / 27
3. Heaven and Its Inhabitants / 49
4. Heaven, Trinity, and Personal Identity / 73
5. Heaven and the Problem of “Irredeemable” Evil / 90
6. Heaven and Visions of Life After Life / 105
7. Heaven, Morality, and the Meaning of Life / 129
Conclusion / 159
INTRODUCTION
Introduction
Abstract and Keywords
The first part of this introduction puts forward some examples of conflicting historical and contemporary views on Christian belief in heaven. The second part goes on to discuss the two basically different images of heaven that have recurred down the ages: the theocentric view, which in its extreme version casts heaven as a timeless experience of contemplating God, and requires no human dimension; and the anthropocentric view, where the emphasis is on being reunited with family and friends, and heaven being essentially like this life, but without the evil and suffering. The third part discusses the question of why, though many still profess belief in heaven, this belief is now more vague and ambivalent than it has ever been, and has been entirely rejected by some on philosophical, cultural, intellectual, or moral grounds. The author believes that the transmutation of belief in heaven from a vitally positive, spiritual, and moral source into a decidedly negative one represents a religious and cultural shift of cosmic proportions, and that from this viewpoint alone, the doctrine is ripe for serious consideration.
Keywords: anthropocentrism, belief, Christianity, heaven, images, theocentrism
I
In one of the most intriguing passages in Augustine's Confessions, he relates a remarkable experience he had with his mother, Monica, just a few days before she died. At the time, he was a recently baptized Christian whose conversion was due in no small part to the persistence, prayers, and tears of his mother. They had been on a long and tiring journey and were refreshing themselves before a sea voyage they had planned. He reports that they were alone and were leaning from a window that overlooked the garden of the house in which they were staying. Their conversation, which Augustine described as “serene and wonderful,” turned to pondering the question of what life in heaven for the saints must be like. As they sought for insight into this great mystery, they were led to the conclusion “that no bodily pleasure, however great it might be and whatever earthly light might shed lustre upon it, was worthy of comparison, or even mention, beside the happiness of the life of the saints.” Then something extraordinary occurred. While their discussion about heaven continued and they were “longing for it and straining for it with all the strength of our hearts,” Augustine claims that “for one fleeting instant we reached out and touched it.” 1
Shortly after this ecstatic, mystical experience in which the pair momentarily tasted heaven, Monica said that she was ready to die. Her only reason for wanting to stay in this world had been to see her son converted to Christianity. (p. 4 ) “God has granted my wish and more besides, for I now see you as his servant, spurning such happiness as the world can give. What is left for me to do in this world?”
About five days after this, Monica was in bed with a fever. Earlier she had expressed a desire to die in her own country and be buried at her husband's side. Now she asks only of Augustine that after her death, “wherever you may be, you should remember me at the altar of the Lord.” As he carried out this wish a few days later, Augustine prayed to God that those who read his book would remember both his father and his mother. In particular, it was his prayer that they “will be my fellow citizens in the eternal Jerusalem for which your people sigh throughout their pilgrimage, from the time when they set out until the time when they return to you.” 2
Now let us “fast forward” to the twenty‐first century. It is most instructive to compare Augustine's longing for heaven with all his heart and his conviction that Christians sigh for it “throughout their pilgrimage” with the attitude of some contemporary Christian spokesmen. Consider, for instance, the place heaven occupies in Harvard theologian Gordon Kaufman's systematic theology. A few pages after expressing the view that we have no reason to believe life continues beyond the grave, he writes, “We are now in a position to dispose rather quickly of such symbols as the ‘last judgment,’ ‘heaven,’ and ‘hell.’” 3
Augustine and Kaufman are vastly separated by far more than mere time. Indeed, it would be hard to overstate the difference between the perspective of one who believes heaven is a glorious reality to be longed for throughout one's life and that of one who sees heaven as nothing more than a symbol to be disposed of “rather quickly.”
Or compare Monica's spurning of the happiness of this world and her anticipation of heaven with the views of contemporary feminist theologian Rosemary Radford Ruether. Ruether wonders whether the whole notion of life after death is even a concern for women. Following Charlotte Perkins Gilman, Ruether suggests that male religion has focused on death and how to escape it, while for women the pivotal experience has been birth, and the primary concern has been to nurture ongoing life on this earth. Accordingly, Ruether sees the cosmic matrix of matter and energy, rather than individual persons, as the thing that is everlasting. “Acceptance of death, then, is acceptance of the finitude of our individuated centers of being, but also our identification with the larger matrix as our total self that contains us all.” 4 In light of this, Ruether has a very different conception of our calling in life and how this affects our wishes for our children. “It is not our calling to be concerned about the eternal meaning of our lives, and religion should not make this the focus of its message. Our responsibility is to use our temporal life span to create a just and good community for our generation and for our children.” 5
Again, there is a gaping chasm between the aspirations Monica had for Augustine and those Reuther says we should have for our children. While a just and good community is hardly a thing to be lightly regarded or devalued, no such temporal good could even begin to compare with the eternal community of perfect joy that Monica desired for her son to experience.
(p. 5 ) It may be tempting for contemporary persons to dismiss Augustine and Monica's preoccupation with heaven as part and parcel of a precritical, even premedieval, mindset that is no longer tenable for those who have lived through the Enlightenment and beyond. The fact is, however, that heaven has been a pervasive element in Christian thinking through the ages, and contemporary indifference to the hereafter is the exception to the norm. Consider, for instance, the comments of the great Leibniz on another author he was reviewing. Leibniz noted that the author observed that frequently we are poor judges of real happiness, and that often there is more happiness in a contented poor man than in the palace of a great man. While this is a commonplace observation in every age, the author went on to claim that “the greatest felicity here on earth lies in the hope of future happiness,” a view that Leibniz went on to endorse as completely agreeing with his own. 6 Now this latter view is not a commonplace of every age, and certainly it is rather foreign to many persons in our age, even many who profess to believe in heaven.
A fuller statement of the sort of perspective Leibniz represents is spelled out by John Wesley in the eighteenth century in the preface to his sermons.
To candid, reasonable men I am not afraid to lay open what have been the inmost thoughts of my heart. I have thought, I am creature of a day, passing through life as an arrow through the air. I am a spirit come from God and returning to God; just hovering over the great gulf, till a few moments hence I am no more seen—I drop into an unchangeable eternity! I want to know one thing, the way to heaven—how to land safe on that happy shore. God himself has condescended to teach the way: for this very end he came from heaven. He hath written it down in a book. O give me that book! At any price give me the Book of God! I have it. Here is knowledge enough for me. Let me be homo unius libri. 7
Wesley's nod toward “candid, reasonable men” reminds us that he lived and wrote during the height of the Enlightenment, when reason was increasingly recognized as the guide to life. It was Wesley's conviction that the only truly reasonable way to live is with the goal of heaven in clear sight.
Of course, part of what makes a belief or way of life reasonable is the larger web of beliefs to which it is connected. Notice how Wesley situates heaven in such a larger web. First, he describes himself as a “creature of a day” whose life in this world amounts to only “a few moments” in comparison to eternity. The context of eternity charges this life with enormous significance and magnifies the importance of choices that might seem trivial in a smaller domain.
Next, consider what he viewed as the central event of history, and how it is intimately related to this account of the human drama: “God himself has condescended to teach the way: for this very end he came down from heaven.” The point of the incarnation was to achieve human salvation, a salvation that eventuates in a perfected relationship with God. Heaven is another name for this perfected relationship. Furthermore, this framework of beliefs determines what is truly important for human beings to know, namely, the way to achieve (p. 6 ) this relationship. This explains why Wesley calls himself homo unius libri, a man of one book. This is certainly not a literal description of his reading habits, given that he read widely in all areas of learning. But it is a serious statement of the relative importance of what can be known. The one thing that is absolutely essential for us to know is the way to heaven.
But for traditional Christianity, knowledge of the way to heaven is not only important for heaven's sake, it is also crucial for this life to be truly meaningful. Indeed, the strong version of this claim maintains that life here is meaningless unless there is a hereafter. A closely related claim is that morality, an essential component of a meaningful life, requires heaven. Without an afterlife, so the argument goes, there are no convincing moral sanctions. One of the most forthright versions of this thesis was advanced by Wesley's earlier compatriot, John Locke.
The philosophers, indeed, shewed the beauty of virtue: they set her off so as drew men's eyes and approbation to her; but leaving her unendowed, very few were willing to espouse her.... But now there being put into the scales, on her side, “an exceeding and immortal weight of glory,” interest is come about to her; and virtue now is visibly the most enriching purchase, and by much the best bargain.... The view of heaven and hell will cast a slight upon the short pleasures and pains of this present state, and give attractions and encouragements to virtue, which reason and interest, and the care of ourselves, cannot but allow and prefer. Upon this foundation, and upon this only, morality stands firm, and may defy all competition. 8
Locke's account of the connection between heaven (and hell) and morality has struck some as a rather repugnant version of Christian hedonism. 9 Evaluations aside, however, it is clear that for Locke morality needs not merely God but the more specific doctrines of heaven and hell if it is to be firmly established.
It is important to understand that it is this broad framework of beliefs about eternity, incarnation, morality, meaning, and revelation that makes sense of the traditional Christian emphasis on heaven. Heaven is an integral part of this majestic and sweeping vision of life. Isolated from this framework, it is hard to understand the passionate interest previous generations of believers have had in it. But when viewed in its proper context, it is not at all surprising that heaven has had remarkable resilience and staying power, even in the face of modern criticism of the larger framework of beliefs that give it life.
In view of this context, it is no great wonder that fascination with heaven survived the Enlightenment and continued strong into the nineteenth century, despite the rising tide of secularism. One measure of this fascination is the fact that over fifty books on heaven were published in the United States alone between 1830 and 1875. A novel on heaven, The Gates Ajar, published in 1868 by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, was, next only to Uncle Tom's Cabin, the most popular book of its period. 10 And deep into the twentieth century, belief in heaven remained prevalent, at least in the United States. A Gallup poll published in Newsweek during Easter season 1989 indicated that 94% of Americans (p. 7 ) believe in God and 77% believe in heaven. Of those who believe, 76% rated their prospects of making it there good or excellent. 11 A poll from 1994 suggested that belief in heaven is becoming even more widespread. Of those polled, 93% affirmed belief in heaven, while 69% of these thought they had a good or excellent chance of going there. 12
II
These figures notwithstanding, the Newsweek article raises doubts about the continuing viability of belief in heaven. These doubts are connected with the well‐documented decline of belief in heaven's ever shady counterpart, namely, hell. Such was the trend as long ago as the seventeenth century, and by the nineteenth century, fear of damnation was largely a thing of the past. Thus, Kenneth L. Woodward raises the obvious question: “If hell has, for all of its old intents and purposes, disappeared from modern consciousness, can heaven be far behind?” The aforementioned Harvard theologian is quoted, not surprisingly, in support of this projection. Citing what he sees as “irreversible changes,” he declares, “I don't think there can be any future for heaven and hell.” 13 Historical data might also be adduced in support of this claim. Colleen McDannell and Bernhard Lang, who have traced the variations in heavenly belief from the first century through the late twentieth, agree that heaven does not have near the significance in Christian thought that it previously had. Those who have rejected the symbolic view of heaven and insisted on its reality are still left, for a number of reasons, “with an equally meager picture of heaven.” 14 Even the most conservative are not exempt from this situation, according to McDannell and Lang. “Although fundamentalists would discard the suggestion that heaven no longer is an active part of their belief system, eternal life has become an unknown place or a state of vague identity.” 15