I’D NEVER WRITE A BOOK ABOUT HEAVEN. I know the topic can be a bestseller, because everyone wants to know what heaven is like.
But no one knows what it’s like, as far as we can tell.
I was once asked by a publisher to write a book on the topic. They took me out to eat, to try to convince me.
I said I’m sorry. I don’t write fiction.
Certainly, the Bible talks about heaven. And I believe it’s real. But I don’t think we should take the prophets’ poetry and the heavily stylized descriptions of Revelation and even of Jesus as literal.
Heaven is a spiritual place for spirits. It’s supposed to be as real as calories and as enjoyable as a Dilly Bar. At the least.
But we don’t have anything to compare it to. The Revelation writer tried, but fell short. Streets of gold? Really? Or is that a metaphor, meaning the most precious metal on earth is asphalt in heaven?
Talking about heaven is a bit like trying to speak a foreign language. A friend of mine was trying to teach me how to say a German word…I can’t remember which. I told him there is no sound in the English language I can use to compare that German word to. I never could master it.
There is no sight on earth to compare heaven to.
So, I’m writing about crucifixion at the moment. Gruesome, wrenching stuff.
What Jesus and the early Christians endured was unthinkable. I’ll tell you about it sometime.
I wish I could have written about heaven. But I would need a near-death experience to help me out…or perhaps a vision that would carry me to the third heaven.
But honestly, who wants a near-death experience, or a vision that would make folks think we’ve thunk ourselves out?
So tomorrow, I’ll read the ancients and watch as they nail another soul to a cross. Then I’ll write about it. After that, call in the grandkids, with Mickey Mouse. But please, Dear God Above, not Paw Patrol again.