I’ve been corresponding by e-mail with someone who has some sincere theological questions and who has asked for an appointment for us to talk about the church, the bible, and what we believe as Christians. I’m grateful for this chance to dialogue and share thoughts on such important subjects. Not surprisingly, one of this person’s questions asked me what Christians believe about heaven and hell. I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t preach about either place very much. The bible does not talk about heaven or hell as much as you might think or as late night TV preachers may lead you to believe. Most people want to know about hell in much the same way as they want to hear reports about traffic jams during rush hour—so we can avoid the worst things on the way to our heavenly home. There are times in this life that are truly hellish, even if none of us, including me, are sure there is a literal place called “hell”; just as there are moments in this life we consider to be heavenly, even if none of us, including me, can clearly, absolutely picture what heaven is like. There are no architectural drawings for heaven and hell in the bible. They are both described more in terms of qualities than coordinates—a reality of painful separation from God and others, and a reality of loving reunion with God and others. I’m of the mindset that as a preacher it is less important to scare the “hell” out of you than it is to awaken the “heaven” within you and point you towards Christ, the one who gives you true life, joy, and hope.
My reason for believing this is Christ himself as heard in the well-known words he spoke to his disciples recorded in John 14. Listen again to what he said: Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? If you grew up reading the older King James Version of the bible, the verse used to say “In my Father’s house are many mansions.” The later Revised Standard Version downgraded our accommodations to “dwelling places.” But if I were you, I wouldn’t argue with St. Peter in heaven insisting you were promised a mansion, not just a dwelling place. That isn’t the time to seek a Holiday Inn room upgrade.
Jesus says I go to prepare a place for you. We recently had some friends pass through Pittsburgh, which meant that in our guestroom fresh sheets were put on the beds and towels set out in their bathroom for them. But the type of preparations Jesus is talking about goes far beyond linens and towels. Remember how Jesus said “I am the gate” and “I am the good shepherd”? There are things in our lives that block us from simply striding into heaven: sins and wrong behaviors, fears and self-doubts, pride and uncertainty. Jesus is the gate that makes a way out of no way. Jesus is the shepherd that leads us where we should go. Jesus uniquely prepares a place, a safe passage for us, since we could never earn our way into heaven without his help.
In this speech, Jesus isn’t giving directions to heaven or telling us how to recognize it if we try to find it on our own. Jesus is offering comfort and a promise: Don’t let your hearts be troubled. I prepare a place, I open a way for you. It’s not about sheets on a guest bed. It’s about a two-way relationship between us and God that is now restored, opened up, and prepared by the One who goes ahead of us. That’s why verse 7 in this passage says what it says: If you know me, you will know my Father also. That’s a relationship promise that is the best news of all.
Between the opening verses I read and this verse 7 comes the famous passage in which Jesus says, I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. Jesus is the way we should follow—the truth we should seek—and the one providing for, preparing and promising eternal life—all of that is great. But the next phrase seems problematic to me: No one comes to the Father except through me. After such expansive, welcoming language about being the way, truth, and life, now it sounds as if the heavenly door is being shut on huge swaths of humanity. Or at least we hear people use this verse in ways that are exclusionary, arguing that it means God in Christ put up a wall around heaven especially to keep out those of other faiths or even incomplete faith, anyone unable to see Jesus as the way to God the Father.
In cases like this, follow the #1 rule of bible interpretation: Always interpret individual verses by the verses right around them, by the book that contains them, and by the witness of scripture as a whole. Remember that Jesus is speaking to his disciples during the Last Supper, wanting to give them comfort and aware that soon he’ll be taken from them and crucified. He started with words of comfort—about preparing a place for them so that where he is, they too will be. The focus here is on Christ’s love—Christ’s comforting promise to be with the disciples then and with us his modern disciples now. That’s the lens through which we need to read and interpret this particular verse.
Second, in John’s gospel Jesus said at least seven “I am” sayings—I am the bread of life, I am the good shepherd, I am the living water, I am the resurrection and the life, and here “I am the way, the truth and the life.” All of those sayings focus on qualities that both welcome and nurture life: bread, water, shepherd who leads us, a gate that opens the way out of bondage and captivity, a vine that helps us bear good fruit, a resurrection that destroys the power of death. It is in the same spirit that Jesus says “I am the way, the truth, the life.” So when Jesus goes on to say, “No one comes to the Father except through me,” the focus is on Jesus—the means by which people come to God. If you flipped the phrase around so that the reference to Jesus came first, it would basically say “Through me everyone comes to the Father. I am the means by which people come to God the Father.” This is an important distinction.
So, what about non-Christians? What about Hindus, Buddhists, and Muslims? Are good people of other faiths barred from what Jesus called the “dwelling places in his Father’s house”? Or what about a child in a refugee camp who dies of cholera or a youngster in Africa who dies of malaria without hearing about Jesus or being baptized—are they unable to come to the Father? Some have said “Yes” to those questions, but I don’t think they have biblical justification for that answer. The key distinction here is simple: Is our faith in Jesus or in our earthly conception of Jesus, as we picture him in our own limited minds? We often think of Jesus in terms that fit our own experiences and our own culture. We picture a Jesus who looks like us when we look in the mirror—and for a long time, let’s be honest, that Jesus had white skin and blue eyes. We picture a Jesus who spoke English or valued modern democracy or cared about America a bit more than about China or Zimbabwe because we speak English, value democracy and care about America more than other places. And just as we’ve chosen to be Presbyterian and, on our better days, we welcome folks who happen to be Baptist, Methodist, Catholic or Pentecostal, we imagine Jesus smiles with favor upon our Presbyterian church and tolerates our siblings’ versions of their churches while rejecting other religions and spiritualities.
Yet the Jesus who spoke these words of comfort long ago is the same Jesus who warns us not to try and restrict the grace, mercy and love of God. Remember the Sermon on the Mount: Jesus said, Consider the lilies of the field and the sparrows of the air, whom God cares for and knows when even one falls to the ground. Are you not of more value than they? Remember in John 11 when Jesus was speaking of himself as the Good Shepherd how he said: I lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also and they will listen to my voice. Think of it this way: How ever all of humanity and all of heaven come together—come together in a way that makes sense for American Christians and Pakistani Muslims, for Pittsburgh residents and refugee camp sufferers—that connection between the world that is and the world that is to come is possible because of Jesus Christ. Ours is not to ask “how”; ours is to celebrate the “Who”—the One who is the way, the truth, and the life. For Jesus, the Connector, is involved in the lives of others in ways far beyond our ability to restrict or define it.
This Jesus is our point of reference when the subject of heaven and hell comes up. It’s never a question of knowing for sure the furniture up there and the temperature down there, because that only reflects our approach to these topics. Christ’s approach to the whole subject is different—it is personal; it is loving; it is inclusive; and it is meant to give us hope now. We fixate on the transformations that happen when we cross the threshold from death to eternal life. But Christ calls out to us today to focus on the transformation, on what is possible, when we cross the threshold from distracted life to focused life. The writer Madeleine L’Engle once wrote: All I know for now is that wherever God is, heaven is, and if I don’t have glimpses of it here and now, I’m not going to know it anywhere else. Look first to Jesus who calls out to you. Then look around and allow yourself to be surprised by who else is beside you, basking in the gaze of a loving Savior. And really, as Jesus has said, do not let your hearts be troubled. AMEN.