Praise and Thanksgiving

This morning, I was thinking about the kind of creatures we will be in the next life, and how the transition must occur from who we are presently and who we will be in heaven. 

It seems to me that we must enter heaven full of joy, with songs of praise and thanksgiving for all that God has done for us and for the whole world.  If we are not ready now to sing with overflowing joy, what has to happen to us to make us full of joy and thanksgiving?  I can't imagine us entering heaven with complaints or dissatisfaction still in our hearts.

First, I think it has to be obvious that all fear must disappear from our hearts.  "Perfect love casts out fear," so somehow we will have to know deep inside that we have nothing to fear, that we are forever safe and secure:  He will wipe every tear from their eyes.  There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away (Rev. 21:4-5). 

Second, I think we must be content; we cannot be wanting something else, or something more than is given to us.  We must be truly joyful at what everyone else has been given, at the glory that shines from every soul around us.  We must think -- really and truly -- that everyone else is much better than we ourselves are.

And, no matter what our doctrinal differences, they just won't matter any more.  There is only one Temple in heaven, and one Light/Lamp in the Temple -- and we will all be gathered together in worship and praise of the Lamb of God, the Light of the World.  I recently heard the story of two great evangelists in the 1800's.  One was John Whitfield, but I cannot recall the name of the other.  Whitfield was evidently converted to Christianity by his good friend, the other evangelist, but eventually, they parted ways over doctrine.  One was a staunch Calvinist; the other tended toward Armenianism, whatever that is.  Both, however, were famous men in their own right.

When the Calvinist died, Whitfield was asked whether he thought he'd meet his friend in heaven.  "No," replied Whitfield, "I won't.  That man will be so close to the throne of God that I'll never catch a glimpse of him."  What a great answer!  I think we'll all have to be jumping up and down with excitement over the glory that envelopes all of the saints of God.  I'm sure we won't be sitting around discussing who was right about doctrine.  "The only thing that matters is faith expressing itself in love."  (I think that's from James.)  As for status, or for the kind of work we did on earth, I've always loved C.S. Lewis' statement:

The work of a Beethoven and the work of a charwoman become spiritual on precisely the same condition, that of being offered to God, of being done humbly, "as to the Lord."  This does not, of course, mean that it is for anyone a mere toss-up whether he should sweep rooms or compose symponies.  A mole must dig to the glory of God and a cock must crow.  We are members of one body, but differentiated members, each with his own vocation --from "Learning in War-Time," a radio talk reproduced in The Weight of Glory).

 

Thinking about what kind of persons we will be in the next life might start us on the way to being that same kind of creature in this life.  Of course, if we are more bent to complaining than to praising, it will not be possible for us to re-make ourselves without the Spirit of God Himself doing the necessary work in us.  But it will take us recognizing that we need to be re-made before we can allow the Spirit to begin working to change us.