(Reprise) Dead Man Over the Edge

At first I didn't see anything but a hazy darkness as I looked down over the edge of… I don't know what.

I thought it strange that where a moment ago there was the magnificent panorama of the "smallest bit of Heaven", now there was nothing. Or mostly nothing. As I gazed with increasing intensity, I began to see more clearly (is that how everything works here? I wondered).

At a very great distance a sphere began to emerge, like a pale, variegated marble. More than anything it looked like a gray-scale rendering of iconic pictures of my home planet.

"Is that Earth?" I asked. I sensed, more than saw him nod in the affirmative.

"Why does it look like that? I would have expected it to be in giga-pixel color depth. You know, trillions-and-trillions-of-colors."

"You are seeing it from the context of Heaven. Brother C.S. Lewis called it Shadowlands. You can see why. In comparison to the reality of this place, the fallen Creation is quite dull and drab. Of course, it wasn't that way in The Beginning, nor will it remain that way forever, but that is how it is now when seen in comparison to its source."

There were so many things I could have said, then. But what I ended up saying is, "why would anybody want to go there?"

"Its destiny is to be recreated as the New Earth, but seen at this time from here, you are viewing its true appearance."

"It looks dead."

"Yes, but it's not. It is filled with life; life lived in the Shadows of Death."

"It is unpleasant to look at. What are those darker patches there and there?" I asked, pointing to where I began to see them appear on the planet's surface. Again, as I willed myself to look closer, the Earth's image enlarged. I felt that if I wanted to, I could have visually dived beneath its lackluster atmosphere.

He sighed then, and it was the first hint I had gotten from him of anything less than a vast, serene joy. I looked his way. He was sad, and for some reason that shook me to my very core.

"Whoa, whoa whoa!" I almost yelled. "I thought in Heaven there would be no more tears or sorrow or pain!"

"We are not in Heaven proper, nor anywhere near His throne, nor are we in the Time of the Restoration of All Things. Those dark patches are human souls dying in unbelief. We are witnessing the black gateways of Hades opening up to consume them, where each one will remain until they are cast into the Lake of Fire, along with Death, Satan, and the rest of his minions at the at the end of history. And there in Outer Darkness they will remain in torment forever and ever."

The timbre of his voice as he spoke was full of a grief so profound and ancient that it seemed to come from the beginning of time itself. As I turned away and gingerly looked back over the edge, I saw an increasing number of these blackened discolorations. Each grew larger and appeared more frequently, as if the Gates of Hell itself were multiplying and spreading like some kind of planet-sized malignancy consuming all life and hope. I desperately wanted to turn away, to look once more at the vastness and beauty of Heaven, but I could not. I could only continue to gaze downward through my suddenly tear-filled eyes.

But then, a brief blaze of light! There on the surface below! Tiny pinpoints at first, but still a stark contrast to the pervasive darkness. While these did not obscure the black holes peppering the fabric of the earth's drab surface, their appearance seemed miraculous and powerful nonetheless; beacons of something, maybe hope, or life, or I didn't know what, but something good in a horrible sea of despair.

Then I did know, as sure as I knew anything.

"His children!" I cried excitedly, wanting to hug my counterpart in a sudden ferocious joy. Instead I pounded him enthusiastically on the back. "Yes! Yes!" I shouted. "It's not all darkness and death and despair! There's…"

"Light!" he finished for me. "And life!" His face was now as it was before, but more… radiant. His smile returned, seeming to dispel the crushing aura from the planet below. "Young and old. Alive and ALIVE, although their outward shells are perishing, their inward parts are being transformed from glory to glory. They are the ones bought with a price. Saved from the gates of Hell by faith in the Son of God!"

Although he was merely speaking, it seemed like he sung a glorious ancient hymn that reverberated throughout the Realm of Heaven, accompanied by an invisible chorus of music and voices so sweet and so powerful that my heart soared.

And then a flash of light brighter than all the others, and more sustained, like a sunspot or a brilliant, city-sized flare blazing across the darkness.

"What is that?" I asked, as if a two-year old seeing my first sunrise.

"Who is that," he clarified.

© Bill Lilley 2011, 2013

(Reprise) Dead Man: A Finite Being on the Edge of the Infinite

How can you tell how long something takes when time has no meaning?

All I knew, all I wanted to know, was that this experience, whatever it was, was too magnificent to come to an end.

I realized at that instant (ah! there it is again - a pesky reference to time!) that if this, the smallest bit of Heaven, was so enthralling, so captivating, so... wordlessly satisfying, that the rest of it must be beyond comprehension.

Heaven - a word to name a place, diluted by overuse, losing its meaning over time and endless repetition - was impossible to stereotype.

I supposed that the very attempt to make it meaningless was part of the the strategy in the long war against the God of Heaven. What can't be eradicated, trivialize. What can't be trivialized, stigmatize, and what can't be stigmatized, marginalize.

"Clever boy," he said from next to me. "Did you just come up with that?"

"You're snooping again," I said, not looking over at him. "It's rude. It's not polite to be rude. Glorified men should be polite. And what, there's no right to privacy here?"

"In a place where Omniscience reigns, privacy is irrelevant. Plus, it's not needed here. Everyone wants to know as they are known."

I sighed. "I get the distinct sense that I won't be staying here for long. Is that true?"

"Yes. You are on a kind of weekend pass. A tourist, and not the first. And certainly not the last."

"Will I be able to speak of this when I get back? The Apostle Paul said that his experience in the Third Heaven was not lawful to speak about."

"Our beloved brother Paul was taken right to the Heart of Heaven, as was John the Elder. I'm sorry to say, you're not even in the parking garage."

"That's OK. I'll take it. Do I have to go back?"

I was whining. We both knew it. I was only slightly ashamed.

"Yes. But when the time comes, you will understand, and have no regrets."

"So why I am here? Why not just leave me on the planet until my body revives or is resuscitated? Why give my a taste of what I can't keep?"

"You've got it wrong. You asked for this. You prayed for it; for comfort, for assurance, for a glimpse of what it's like. So He has granted it to you because He loves you, and delights to give you the desires of your heart. But more than this glimpse you could not handle. So, as in all things, he has given you only what He knows you can bear."

"Why you, then? Why not one of my departed relatives? Why not anybody else besides me, er, you?"

"I volunteered. I wanted to be your guide. I like you."

"I don't get it. Not any of it."

"Of course not. You are a finite being on the edge of the Infinite. Nobody expects you to get it, not right away; least of all me."

"Hang on! Is that an insult?"

He smiled that smile again. I ignored it. Mostly.

"What's next?" I asked.

"I would like to direct your attention over there," he said, pointing somewhere beyond the endless horizon.

© Bill Lilley 2011, 2013

Conspicuous Faith

First, I thank my God through Jesus Christ for you all, that your faith is spoken of throughout the whole world. (Romans 01:08, NKJV).

When Jesus was arrested and interrogated by the Sanhedrin, the ancient Jewish ruling council, in one of His answers to their accusations, He declared that His message to the world was not spoken in dark corners or hidden, but that He always taught in the Synagogues or Temple where the Jews always met. He spoke in the open to all who would listen.

Nothing was said in secret.

This is important to understand for two reasons. The first is that the message of the gospel is a truth that has been made known to all the world. That is its purpose, so that every mouth may be stopped and all the world may become guilty before God so that they will seek His Savior.

Second, you may encounter in your life false doctrinal teaching that speaks of secret mysteries of the gospel, special knowledge that only special “Initiates” into the “Mysteries” can know; perhaps even supposedly encompassing “new revelation”. But that cannot be true, for all has been revealed that is necessary for godliness and salvation.

Jude, the half-brother of Jesus who wrote the very short, but important Book of Jude in the New Testament, tells us:

Beloved, while I was very diligent to write to you concerning our common salvation, I found it necessary to write to you exhorting you to contend earnestly for the faith which was once for all delivered to the saints. (Jude 1:3, NKJV).

Note that key phrase: “once for all”. It is an ancient way of saying “once and done”, or “once and for all”, meaning that the subject or action in view is complete, with nothing missing.

This doesn't mean that we have complete or perfect understanding of everything the Bible contains, but it does mean that the truths that we believe as Christians are themselves complete and, as importantly, not hidden.

And neither should we be.

Our faith and life should be conspicuous, like the early Roman church Paul was writing to whose faith was spoken of throughout the whole world.

Now this certainly does not mean that we as individuals should be on parade, drawing attention to ourselves rather than to God, as if we are something. But it does mean that there is no such thing as a “closet Christian” or a “silent disciple”.

Nor does it mean that we should use our knowledge of the truth as a weapon or as a mark of our imagined and delusional superiority, though, in truth, some will accuse us of just that by our merely mentioning Christ or the Bible.

But again, it does mean, that we are to live our lives unashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God to salvation for all those who believe.

Mockery and false accusation are guaranteed to follow, but that is no different than what happened to Jesus, Himself. And He has warned us in His word that if the world hates Him it will hate us who follow Him.

It is hard to go against the grain of the masses, hard to stand up to the majority and call out its evil and sin, but it is what we are kept alive on the earth to do: to speak the truth in love, and to let all who hear us know where our allegiance lies, with God the Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.

Sometimes it may even be the hardest thing we ever do, and may cost us friends and family, and even our very life. But we are never alone. Jesus designed His church like He designed each of our bodies. He made Himself the head, with each of us playing our part in spreading the good news of salvation through Jesus Christ. And while some of us play a more obvious part than others, each is essential for the health and well-being and full-functioning of the entire body.

And even if we are physically isolated, He will never leave us nor forsake us.

People should know we are Christians and what we believe. But that is not to say that we should be preachy, or legalistic or obnoxious about it. We get enough bad press without deserving it, so let's make sure that our words are gracious salt and light, and not bitter and contemptuous pills that choke people on the way down. Again, we are to speak the truth, but always in love.

Now in some places in the world, becoming a Christian is an automatic death sentence, but in everyplace, Christians are targets of the enemy, especially when we do not keep silent.

Why? Because our words, our deeds, and our lives can be used by God to bring others into His Kingdom, and the enemy hates that, and us. Since he has already lost us as his possessions, the only things he has left is to discredit us, persecute us and mock us so that we are silenced.

Don't let that strategy succeed. Yes, by fighting against it, you may suffer and lose much, but in the end, you will gain more than you can ever imagine.

Love,

Dad

(Reprise) Dead Man: A Lot to Take In

"How can you be me, if I am me? There cannot be two me's. I am me, not you. Otherwise neither one of us is either one of us."

"It's simple, really," he said. "I am you as you will be in your future, while being the you that God has intended before the foundation of the world. I am you without all the bother of linear time. Don't get bogged down in the details. They're beyond your current understanding. Suffice it to say that I am a glimpse of things to come."

"But I don't like you!"

"But you do! What's not to like?"

"You're, well, unnerving. And a bit conceited."

"How's that?"

"You think you're better than me."

"That's not conceit. It's true. I am better than you. In every way, but so what? I had nothing to do with it."

"I don't like being inferior. I want to be best."

"I'm afraid you're puny idea of best is rather meaningless here. You would not want it any other way, believe me."

It was disconcerting being a dead man, and talking with a guy who said he was me, who seemed to morph seamlessly from one age to the next without so much as blinking. I felt imbecilic, unable to grasp what was really going on, and trying desperately to figure out just what kind of experience this was because it couldn't be reality. Or could it?

"Think of it this way," he advised, "you are no longer looking at a shadowy world bound by the laws of time and space. You are in the realm above all that, the realm from which those laws emanate like the dazzling reflections of sunlight off the surface of a vast ocean. You are on the Balcony of Heaven able to look out into an existence of true, unencumbered LIFE, the wellspring and source of all that you have ever known. It is not really anything like the skipping-across-the-surface-of-time kind of viewpoint and existence that you're used to and it will be quietly overwhelming at first, knowing you (and I do know you, don't forget), but you will adjust. I promise."

"I hear your voice,” I said. “and understand every word, but you're stringing them together in sentences that make no sense. Plus, I don't really want to pay attention right now, and I dislike it when you give me that condescending, superior smile after you tell me something you know I won't get."

"You liked my smile before. You thought it added to my aura of amiability."

"Yeah, but now I know who you are, and I don't like it."

"Ah! So you believe me, then?"

"Let's just say I'm willing to suspend my disbelief in the hopes of bringing this episode to some kind of sensible closure. And maybe getting outside this room into that amazing sunlight will help. It looks really nice outside, like the world used to look when I was a kid, before I knew what it was really like."

As soon as I voiced the desire, I was outside - on the edge of Heaven, on its Balcony, no less - gazing out over the most fantastically satisfying landscape I had ever scene. It was perfect in every aspect, with that magical proportion of light and shade, brilliant colors, pastel shadows, grand sweeping vistas of majestic terrain, interspersed with intriguing views of cozy woods, undulating, grass-covered hills, and sparkling, seemingly endless bodies of diamond-clear water. And all permeated by a sense of peace and rightness that made me forget to inhale.

As I looked more closely (and here I marveled again at the acuity and range of my vision), I saw more species and varieties of plants and animals than I could ever have counted. They seemed to span all known terrestrial climates and ages, extinct, futuristic, massive, minuscule, flyers, crawlers, creepers, swimmers, floaters, and some with seemingly inexplicable forms of mobility.

All were of such noble countenance and perfect form, from the least of them to the greatest, that each was a brilliant masterpiece in and of itself. Together they formed a magnificent, living tapestry on such a scale, and with such precision, that it was clearly the work of an Intelligence and Artistry beyond anything or Anyone conceivable.

There was a lot to take in. I could have spent eons from just this one vantage point and not exhausted a tenth of what I was seeing. A billionth.

"You need to breathe," he said gently. I glanced his way for just a millisecond, unwilling to look away from the amazing panorama before me for more time than that, and was not surprised to see his eyes shining in wonder as much as I imagined my own to be.

"You said I'm a dead man," I reminded him quietly, gazing back over the railing. "Why do I need to breathe?"

He laughed at me then, kindly, affectionately. I wanted to be annoyed, but couldn't drum up the requisite sense of self-entitlement.

Everything before me was just too vast and beautiful and unimaginably gratifying.

© Bill Lilley 2011, 2013

(Reprise) Dead Man: Who Are You?

"So, I have become a dead man, is that it?" I asked.

"Quite," he said.

"And I am experiencing a bit of Heaven?"

"A bit, yes. The smallest possible bit. There is much more, of course."

"How do you know?"

"I am a permanent resident."

"An angel or a glorified man?"

"Excellent question! I expected no less."

A blatant attempt at flattery, I knew, but this guy, whoever he was, was just amiable enough for me to not get too annoyed.

"And you are?” I asked. “And don't be evasive this time. It's a nice day out there, and I am on the verge of deciding that answers to my questions are less important than I thought a minute ago."

"It's been much less than a minute, my friend," he said.

"You're doing it again," I said.

"Yes. I promise to stop if this time you answer a question from me."

I raised my eyebrow at him. He did the same at me, at the same time, but better. And then that whole image metamorphosis thing occurred again, and I saw him at a variety of ages, as if he were all of them at once.

"Stop doing that! It's disconcerting!" I grumped.

"I imagine it is, but I am not doing it. You are. When you reside in Heaven, even as a visitor, what you think is what you see. Or more precisely, what you think, is reality. That's why permanent residence requires an existential transformation. Terrestrial beings cannot stay here for long. They need to put on immortality and incorruptibility. I'm sure you could imagine the resulting chaos otherwise. That's why you are in an Isolation Room, of sorts. Quarantine, so to speak. 'The Balcony', as it were."

I had to admit, he was very good at controlling the conversation, and seemed to love words, like favorite toys or building blocks. The more he spoke, the more questions I had, and the easier it became to get side-tracked. Plus, while I felt the conversation was extremely important, I lacked a certain necessary sense of urgency about it. That breeze and sky outside were too inviting. And I had not felt so physically good in a long time. Maybe since birth. But then, my laser-like focus would come into question and we couldn't have that.

He was smiling, again. I knew that he knew that I knew that he knew what I was thinking. It was kind of fun, and creepy, and the blue outside was the bluest blue I had ever seen, or could imagine ever seeing. But enough of this, I decided, I have my reputation to consider. For some reason, I laughed out loud at that thought. So did he.

"Alright. What's your question?” I asked, surrendering. “And remember, a deal's a deal. I answer your question and you answer mine. Yes?"

"Of course. Here it is: how did you get here?"

"I died. You said so yourself."

"Please! Now you're just being petulant again."

I cleared my throat to gain time. I do not like tests, or trick questions. I especially dislike tests that contain trick questions.

"Fine," I said. "If this is Heaven, and I am now a victim of the First Death, the only way I could have gained entrance, even to Heaven's Balcony, was through faith in Jesus Christ and His death on the Cross in payment for my sins."

It's funny. I knew that was the answer he was looking for, and if he were being truthful in his claim to have studied me, he had to have known that's what I would say. So why the test? Why make me say it?

At that very moment, in addition to the idyllic sky, the warm breeze, the lazy summer sounds, and the perfect and painless physical condition I was in, something else came into my awareness. Something big and complicated and powerful that was impossible to describe, but indisputably good and pure. It filled, well, everything, and in some ways it was a glorious and stirring symphony, and in some ways the purest, radiant light, and in some ways neither of those things and all of them at once, but much, much more.

Everything that I am smiled (if that is even possible) in utter, inexpressible joy. I am sure my eyes glistened with emotion so deep and profound that I should not have been able to see through the incipient tears. But I could, even more clearly than I had before! I saw my companion's face, and it looked as I imagined my own did; completely enthralled and filled with anticipation guaranteed to be fulfilled exceedingly abundantly above whatever either one of us could ask or think.

"You did that on purpose!" I said.

"Yes!” he admitted. “Consider it a gift. A downpayment of unimaginably greater things to come. And, your welcome."

I laughed then in a way that I hadn't done since I was a boy, being lovingly trounced on by a litter of puppies full of life and eager to welcome into the pack a new, and interesting, if odd-looking, giant member.

"Your turn," I said with complete equanimity, after some uncountable time. "Who exactly are you?"

He looked at me with that same knowing and friendly smile, and his image fluctuated once more through all the stages of human life, finally settling on the form of an ageless, wise, and compassionate man full of love and unbounded warmth.

"I am you." he said with a smile. "Transformed!"

© Bill Lilley 2011, 2013

First Things

First, I thank my God through Jesus Christ for you all, that your faith is spoken of throughout the whole world. (Romans 01:08, NKJV).

Here's a question, a tough question, which, when you think about it, may make you shudder and tremble when you understand the answer.

What is one of the first things a follower of Jesus is to do when faced with anything pleasant or painful, scary or safe, fun or sad, exciting or tedious? What is one of the first things a Christian is to do upon waking up or going to sleep, or walking or sitting down? What is one of the first things a believer is to do in response to whatever befalls him or her?

The answer entails (involves) more of an attitude or state of being than an action, though it is most often an attitude that precedes (comes before) an action. The answer is to be thankful.

So why would that make you tremble or shudder?

Because in some circumstances, like the tragedy of loss, or the pain of an injury or illness, or the terror of being under some kind of threat, thankfulness does not seem just hard, but impossible, and maybe more than a little crazy. It certainly seems this way to the world at times, but can often seem that way to us, as well.

But here's the thing, remember what it means to be the called of Jesus Christ? Remember what it means to have God as Abba, or Daddy?

It is not that we are thankful for the bad in and of itself, but that in the midst of the bad we are thankful for who we are and what we have in Christ, and that transcends (goes far beyond) anything and everything that happens to us in this life.

Paul says that we should be...

giving thanks always for all things to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, (Ephesians 5:20, NKJV).

and that...

in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. (1 Thessalonians 5:18, NKJV).

and we are to...

...let the peace of God rule in [our] hearts, to which also you were called in one body; and be thankful. (Colossians 3:15, NKJV).

and...

...supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks be made for all men, (1 Timothy 2:1, NKJV).

And these are just four of the places he exhorts (urges) us to give thanks and be thankful, and there are many more in both the Old and New Testaments. In fact, some form of thanks is mentioned 138 times in the Bible.

When something is mentioned once in Scripture it is important, for all Scripture is given by inspiration of God and is profitable. When it is repeated we should pay even more attention. When it is appears again and again and again, it is clear that it is vital that we take heed for our good and God's glory.

Even in just the four times I've cited the Apostle Paul in this regard, those verses leave nothing out; no circumstance, no person. We are to give thanks or be thankful for all things, in everything, and for everyone.

I don't know about you, but if I were the inventor of Christianity, instead of Jesus, I would not have even thought of such a thing, and if I had, I would have discarded the idea immediately as being impossible, nonsensical, and even a little offensive.

How could I possibly give thanks for someone hurting me or my family? How could I be thankful for all the evil doings and people in this world?

These are no small issues and go right to the heart of what it means to be adopted into the Family of God by faith.

I believe the answer lies in what we've already covered so far in Romans, and will be delving into repeatedly in Paul's brilliant letter to the early church.

If God is sovereign (has authority) over all of time and space and Creation (and He is), if He loves us and wants us to live forever in everlasting joy (and He does and has proven it by the Cross), and if all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purposes, then NOTHING happens to us outside of His control and goodness. NOTHING.

He is either the God who He says He is, or the Bible is a lie from the pit of Hell.

Since we believe Him and His word, then it only follows logically that one of our first responses to every aspect of life is an acknowledgement of His power and good purpose. How do we best acknowledge that? By being thankful and giving thanks.

Two final things to consider.

First, I do not believe that being thankful means having a fake, syrupy, and simpering passivity to life, or to hide behind some false and sick sense of happiness. I do not believe it means just accepting whatever happens without doing anything to relieve pain, or protect ourselves or our loved ones, or do nothing to fight the evil in this world, or grieve or mourn over loss. The Bible is full of exhortations to take Spirit-empowered actions in all those things, so thankfulness does NOT mean doing nothing or giving up.

Instead, it means that in the midst of all those bad things we are to always know and be thankful for His involvement in our lives, and to trust that He knows what He is doing, both when good things AND bad things happen to us.

Second, being thankful and giving thanks is something that gives us power in life, that strengthens us and enables us to endure, survive, and never surrender or lose hope, that puts the things of this life in their proper perspective and reminds us that this world is not our home. We are pilgrims and sojourners (travelers) here who look forward to where our true citizenship is: Heaven.

Our lives in this fallen world are meant to transform us into the image of Jesus. It is a training ground, a refining furnace that burns away all the dross (impurities), and prepares us for eternal life in the heavenly places.

And for that, above all, we are to be always thankful.

Love,

Dad

(Reprise) Dead Man: “I do not feel dead.”

"Say wot?" I said in an inexplicably British accent.

"Your death," he repeated softly.

"I do not feel dead. I feel, well, great!"

"Yes. Regardless. You are, in fact, dead…at least for now. Technically." He smiled again.

"You're playing with my head," I accused, starting to feel petulant.

"I am telling you the truth, one layer at a time, because I know you. I know you very well."

"How's that? Granted you look familiar, but I can't quite place the voice or the face. Or the teeth."

"Patience, my friend. Trust me."

"Is this Heaven, then?" I asked.

"Why do you ask? I mean specifically. I tell you you're dead and you ask if this is Heaven, which makes sense, of course. But what specific detail caused you to ask now?"

I thought about it for a bit, inclined to answer flippantly because petulance demands either flippancy, or pouting, and I was too old to pout.

"No glasses," I said. But as I answered, so did he, exactly in unison. The same response, in the same tone. He even pointed at his eyes, just like I was.

"Told you I knew you," he said. "And, no. I am not 'playing you.'" Which is exactly what I was thinking.

"Your back doesn't hurt, either, which is the second reason you asked about Heaven," he continued.

"My back always hurts," I replied, pouting.

"But it doesn't now, because you're dead. And you would have said something about it, but now you won't because I just did, and you hate to play into people's expectations. It makes you feel like a puppet."

"I don't like you," I said.

"But you do!"

Damn that smile! Could you even say damn in Heaven?

"It's not exactly a common exclamation, but it's been heard on occasion."

"Now you're answering my thoughts, too? That's, that's... impolite!"

Devastating comeback, I know.

"Yes, I suppose it is. But it continues to make my point so you can begin to trust me, because you'll need to."

"What point? That you know me."

"Yes, exactly!"

I waited, mulling.

I knew I should be more upset, but that peaceful sunlight, and that breeze, and the serene summer sounds. It was hard. And while I was strangely content to just lay there for a time, I was really looking forward to getting up and going outside under the blue, blue sky, and maybe running again, and feeling the warm air on my face… and my eyes. I hadn't felt that directly, and still been able to see clearly, since second grade; a very long time ago.

It was a small thing, but suddenly, very significant. I didn't know why. I didn't care why.

But there were questions, and so far, precious few answers. Actually, no answers.

"So, how can I be dead, 'technically, for a time'?"

He chuckled. It was a friendly sound, not at all derogatory.

"Don't tell me," I said. "You saw that one coming."

"Yes, I did. Like I said. I know you. I've studied you."

"I'm flattered."

"No you're not. You're annoyed. You think I'm trying to distract you. But I know better than that. Your laser-like focus is 'undistractable'."

"Now you're making fun of me. And that's not even a word - 'undistractable'."

"Yes, I am. A little. But I'm sure you don't mind because…"

"Yeah, you know me. I get it. So?"

"You are aware of the true definitions of death, yes?"

I merely raised my eyebrow. I only have one, a unibrow extending across the width of my forehead. Two could play this game of being enigmatic.

"Relax," he said. "It was a rhetorical question. I know exactly what you do and don't know."

"You're that good, eh?"

He smiled. Despite myself, I did like him. It was difficult not to.

"You have undergone the First Death. Your consciousness, your spirit, has been separated from your physical body."

"So I'm unconscious, and this is a dream. What'd I have? Heart attack? Stroke? What?"

"No. You are not unconscious. You are dead."

"Dead?"

"Yes. Now you're getting it."

"I should be really upset then. "

"Perhaps."

"How? I mean, why? What killed me?"

"That's not important. Your family is safe. I know that's what you're now primarily concerned about. They are fine. They don't know, yet. You really do worry too much."

"When you asked me what's the last thing I remember, I saw me on the ground. I didn't look dead. I looked old, and well, immobilized, but not dead, dead."

"Nope."

"Whaddya' mean, 'nope'"?

"You saw what you could handle at the moment. Your Father is like that. Merciful. Kind. He knows you far better than even I do."

"And I can't handle how I died?"

"No. Not at the moment. It would embarrass you too much, and distract from 'the Now'."

I blinked. "So, I'm dead."

"Yes."

"And this is Heaven?"

"A small piece of it, yes."

"What I can handle right now?"

"Yes. Exactly."

© Bill Lilley 2011, 2013

(Reprise) Dead Man: Wait. What?

I woke up feeling the best I had felt in… years. Maybe decades. Maybe ever. There was a pleasant breeze and natural summer scent wafting through an unscreened, open window, and the soft morning light outside could only be described as peaceful. The bed I found myself in was indescribably comfortable.

There were only two problems: I had no idea where I was, and could not account for how I had gotten there.

I thought I was alone in the room, but I was wrong. Sitting by the window, on what looked like a hand-hewn log chair, was a man. I had no clue who he was, but he seemed vaguely familiar – like a thought you think you remember having just before you fall asleep.

I considered for a moment that I should be afraid, or at least startled, but rejected that strategy as something, well, inappropriate. I felt too good and too safe, two things I had not experienced together in a long, long time.

The stranger smiled gently at me, saying nothing, clearly as comfortable sitting there in silence as I was watching him sit there.

Now that I was thinking about it, I vaguely remember feeling almost exactly the same way once as a very young child. Safe at home, on a perfect summer morning filled with country fresh air and lazy summer sounds audible from just outside, with the distinctly irrational assurance that all was well, and that a satisfying day lay ahead. No worries. No obligations. Just a sweet and calm anticipation of what the next unnumbered hours would bring my way.

But that was very long ago, and while I recall the memory, I didn't recall recalling that particular memory for a very long time indeed. Where did it come from, and why now?

"Hello," I said, surprised at the clarity of my own voice. Why did that surprise me? Ah hah! No customary “morning throat gravel”.

The stranger's smile widened. Perfect teeth, like polished ivory. Not fake looking like implants or dentures; just natural, like teeth were always meant to be.

"Hello yourself," he replied amiably. The voice, like the face, oddly familiar. I focused on his appearance more closely, wondering why I didn't feel the need to grope for my eyeglasses on the night stand. I shifted my gaze for a split second. Hmmm. No night stand. No glass case.

Problem? Apparently not.

"Questions?" he asked.

"Well… yeah," I said. "Now that you mention it. Where am I, and who are you?"

"What is the last thing you remember?"

His just voicing the inquiry invoked some kind of 3-D cinematic, surround-sound virtual reality in my head. Sight, noise, smells, and tactile sensations streamed into my consciousness like some kind of super wireless, so that I was both perfectly aware of myself lying in bed, and simultaneously off somewhere into a distinctly different reality.

I liked it, at least for an endless second or two. The unsettling part was an image of a man (somehow more than an image, really), collapsed on the ground, unmoving. I didn't recognize him from the back, but the coat and build were familiar. Then my perspective changed and I saw his face as if floating next to him. The vivid scene vanished instantly as my heart leapt into my throat.

It was me!

My eyes snapped open (I didn't realize I had closed them), and standing next to the bed was the stranger, a look of compassion and understanding on his face. And there was something else, like a gentle and loving sense of humor percolating warmly just underneath the surface. Who was he?

"Are you OK?" he asked.

I really noticed his eyes then. They were a piercing grayish-green. Comforting. Knowledgable. I studied his face more closely. He looked both ancient and young simultaneously; child-like and full-grown.

If I stared for any length of time at all, he seemed to shift in appearance; the emphasis changing. For one nanosecond, I saw him as he must have looked as an infant, innocently self-absorbed. In the next, a series of flowing pictures (somehow more than pictures) of him as a toddler, adolescent, young adult, middle-aged, and finally an elderly and wisdom-filled old man, ramrod straight and full of vigor.

All these perceptions hitting me at faster than the speed of light it seemed, a universe of impressions in the blink of an eye.

"I think so," I managed to reply.

"Good," he said, and smiled wider still. "You are taking it well."

"Thanks," I responded automatically. Then, "What am I taking well, exactly?"

"Your death," he said.

© Bill Lilley 2011, 2013

God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ

Through Him we have received grace and apostleship for obedience to the faith among all nations for His name, among whom you also are the called of Jesus Christ; To all who are in Rome, beloved of God, called to be saints: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. (Romans 01:05-07, NKJV).

Ten separate times in the New Testament, the Apostle Paul gives this exact same salutation (greeting and benediction - “good word”). Here are the references, feel free to look them up (Ro 1:7; 1Co 1:3; 2Co 1:2; Eph 1:2; Php 1:2; Col 1:2; 1Th 1:1; 2Th 1:1,2; Phm 3).

Let's focus on the phrase “God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ”, since it tells us important things about the nature and characteristics of our God; things which are so important that Paul repeats them ten times(!) in his letters to the believers in the 1^st Century, and to believers throughout the ages.

First, notice the little conjunction, “and”. In English, it connects two things or thoughts together, like a plus sign. In English, it doesn't matter how alike the things are that are being joined in that way. You could use the same word, “and”, to connect a steel girder with bubonic plague, or father with daughter.

In the first instance there is very little similarity between a steel girder and a deadly epidemic, other than that they are both nouns, but the sentence containing the conjunction is grammatically, if not logically correct.

In the second instance, father and daughter are connecting two people who are related in a specific way, both human, very similar in ontology (the nature of being) and morphology (form).

In ancient Greek, there are ten common conjunctions, each with its own nuance and contextual (in view of the surrounding words and thoughts) meaning. Some conjunctions simply connect two things regardless of their ontology, others, like the one used in the focus verse above (kai, pronounced kahee), are used to connect two things of the same nature.

So why all this detail about a simple word? Because in Paul's oft-repeated salutation we are given reminders of two very important things about our God: 1) He is more than one Person; and 2) those Persons are “of the same kind”.

In other places, Paul adds the third Person of our Triune God, the Holy Spirit, using the same conjunction.

What does this all mean to us? That God is One God in three distinct Persons. Why is that important? Not because it is easy to understand, or because it is something our finite minds are comfortable thinking about, but because it is what God is – it is an undeniable truth about Him.

This is one of the things that, in my mind, gives Christianity even more credibility (likelihood of being true) because, if its doctrines were merely the result of human imagination, no fabricator would have come up with something so difficult to comprehend.

The only even remotely meaningful analogy (a logical picture of something based on something else like it) in my limited mind is this: as we are comprised (made of) three distinct parts, body, mind and spirit, but are still one person, so too, in a way, is our Creator who fashioned us in His own image. But because He is God, those distinct “parts” are themselves Persons and also God.

I'm sure this falls far short of the reality in so many ways, because anything we think we understand about God is just a vague shadow of all that God truly is, but at least it gives me a picture to hang onto. The really important aspect of all this Trinitarian (Three Personhood) thinking is knowing that our God is absolutely and utterly complete in Himself, lacking nothing.

Because of His essential nature of being three Persons in one God, He knows love and relationship, and all the unfathomable blessing of being in His own company. He needs us for nothing, but created us and desires to be in close relationship with us because He understands the infinite (never-ending) reward that such a relationship is – not for Himself, but for us.

Remember, all the good that we know or can conceive of comes from Him, and in our fallen, sinful state we can only get the briefest glimpses of all that He desires to give us for our good and His glory. That is why Paul writes in another place:

...“Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, Nor have entered into the heart of man The things which God has prepared for those who love Him.” But God has revealed them to us through His Spirit. For the Spirit searches all things, yes, the deep things of God. (1 Corinthians 2:9, 10, NKJV).

Another incredible truth that Paul's salutation reminds us of is that God desires us to know that He is our Father. Literally, the word is Abba, which is Daddy. Such an intimate (close) relationship was unthinkable to the ancient Jewish people. God was Creator and Judge, Life-giver and Law-giver, but Daddy? That thought was blasphemy (speaking deceitfully about the nature or actions of God) to the Jews.

But through Christ, that is exactly what He is, for the 2^nd Person of the Trinity became fully human through His birth to a young virgin 2000 years ago, and in doing so became a partaker of flesh and blood, calling us brothers and sisters, coheirs of His unique relationship as the only begotten Son of God.

Now, the final point of Paul's greeting is that Christ is not just our Brother, but also our Lord. This is significant in two ways. First, because the word used for Christ as Lord, is the same word used to describe the Father as Lord, indicating that Christ is also God. Second, it is significant because it reminds us that we are no longer our own, we have been bought with a price. And that price is the shed blood of Jesus. God owns us.

In truth, we were never our own. We did not create ourselves, nor can we really control anything that happens to us. It is all in the hands of God from before the foundation of the world. But before coming to Christ in faith, we were servants of the world and the world system that is currently under the thrall of Satan, our enemy, and will be until our Lord returns.

It is only after believing that Christ died for our sins and rose alive again on the third day, that we escape imprisonment by the world and enter into the Kingdom of God - a Kingdom on whose throne sits the Lord of Lord and King of Kings, our Savior Jesus Christ.

As our Lord, we are to obey Him in all things, not because He needs our obedience, but because obeying Him is the best possible thing we could do for our own good. In this present life, oftentimes that obedience seems hard – almost impossible, and the world we have escaped from will tell us that such obedience is old-fashioned, uncool, or even evil.

But our difficulties do not surprise Him in the slightest, and He always makes a way for us to resist the temptation to sin (and all disobedience is sin), for:

No temptation has overtaken you except such as is common to man; but God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will also make the way of escape, that you may be able to bear it. (1 Corinthians 10:13, NKJV).

and:

If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. (1 John 1:9, NKJV).

So you see, even by Paul's simple and repeated greetings, he reminds us of everything we have and are in Christ.

Love,

Dad