Letter to a girl in my youth group
Hey! How are you?
I’m typing you a letter because I can type faster than write, and because there are several thoughts I want to share with you.
I hope you’re doing well, and ready for Christmas!
The first thing I want to talk about is hell. You had to leave the meeting a couple weeks ago just as we were getting into the discussion on hell. To open up questions about such a topic and then not discuss them is a frustrating thing. So I wanted to follow up with that discussion. The meeting itself didn’t get very far because we ran out of time. We watched a clip from the movie “What Dreams May Come” which depicts the author’s version of hell. Then we talked about the clip, and then I had to end fast with some summary ideas. I’ll share those ideas with you. But first, let’s reflect on the questions…
Where is hell/heaven?
Why do people go there?
What is it like?
Those really are the basic questions. I’ll give you my thoughts on these questions. I say “my thoughts” because I definitely do not feel like I have these things figured out. It’s like a journey of discovery, and we’re all on the journey together. Maybe I’m just a little farther. I look around at those who are farther than me and ask them what they think (like last week, I asked Denise her views on hell.)
So where is hell? I don’t really know. People used to think it was below the ground. But then we discovered the earth is a sphere, with rock and water and solid mass beneath our feet. People used to think it was somewhere out in space, but then we discovered that we’re one little planet in a huge galaxy, which is in a huge, expanding universe. So… if hell is “out there” we sure haven’t found it yet. Just lots of open space, stars, black holes, planets, comets. No definitive signs of life yet though. So maybe it’s in another dimension. I don’t know much about these theories, but it would be interesting to find out. We live in primarily 3-dimensions (or at least understand that many regularly). But what about the fourth, fifth, sixth dimensions? I really don’t know, but I plan on reading more about it soon. Some people think hell is in your mind, which may exist after you die, or die when you die. Some people think hell is the earthly consequences for your actions.
While I think there are earthly consequences, I don’t think that’s hell. I think hell is a final judgment, a God-given consequence for the wrong and evil in humanity, and in the individual. I’m not sure where it is, or how it’s done, but I believe there’s life after death, and some kind of judgment for us. I know I wouldn’t want to go there and find out.
Next, Who goes to hell, and why??? I really believe that only God decides who goes to hell and who doesn’t. I think hell is separation from God, and he is the judge of that. The bottom line is, I am not God so I won’t say who is going to hell. I can have my guesses, of course ☺ So does that mean a good Muslim can go to heaven? Maybe. I think maybe. I think God gives grace to people, and he knows their hearts and motives and souls. All grace is the grace for us by Jesus’ death on the cross. That’s the only way to be made right with God. But maybe God gives that grace to people whether they understand it all or not. What I do know is that the Bible, and history, and the Church, and my spirit and God’s spirit give me enough information and direction on how to live my life. So I want to use what I know and live for God now. I’ll trust my eternal judgment to him. So I live now like Jesus taught us. Love others. Be generous. Love God with all my heart, soul, mind, strength. Do not be caught up in the things of the world. These things move me in the ‘direction of heaven’ right now. When Jesus talked about the “Kingdom of Heaven” he said it was here “now.” It’s already begun though him, and in us! So we’re living out the path right now. And it will be carried on forever, after we die. I suspect hell is somewhat the same. Many people’s lives right now look like hell.
What is heaven or hell actually like? The Bible uses a lot of description like hell is a place where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth. Hell is a lake of fire. Heaven has streets of gold. Heaven has a tree of life for the healing of the nations. Heaven has a stream running through it that looks like a crystal sea. Heaven has no sun because God is the light. These beautiful images, and horrible ones, give us a good idea of what to expect. Whether or not it’s literally a lake of burning sulphur, I don’t know. Maybe it’s burning oil, or maybe it’s not a lake, it’s more ocean-sized. Or maybe it’s streets of silver instead of gold. Or maybe it’s poetic imagery to give us a glimpse of something beyond our comprehension. Whatever it is, I know heaven will be a place where dreams come true, where we’ll be connected to God in ways we have only longed for.
I probably only raised more questions in your mind, and didn’t answer many. But that’s kind of how the journey works. I can remember asking my youth pastor (when I was in high school) about some of these questions. And I remember not getting very good answers. I was frustrated, and it sent my spinning on my own quest for truth. I was too much of a philosopher though. Too rational.
The journey continues. I hope this letter is somewhat helpful to you. I’d be happy to discuss this more if you feel the need ☺
Later.
Jarod
Lonely Boy
Lonely boy.
Abandoned son.
Trapped in a room all alone.
Enough things to eat. Enough things to do.
Felt like a lion,
caged in a zoo.
Never left the room.
Never saw the world.
The room was his world.
Locked from the outside.
And he had no key.
Someone else left him captive.
One day, he though, he would grow strong enough
to break through the door
and embrace the world.
But not yet. So he sat
in a lonely room,
too cold to be comfortable,
in the remotest of regions,
with one small window
that had grown dirty and smudged
over the years.
The boy found a treasure,
an old radio.
He plugged it in long ago,
and listened to the noise.
It was the only noise.
His only companion.
He played with it now and then,
but he heard only static.
A rustling.
A hiss.
He didn’t know what the sound meant.
But at least it was something.
A friend.
They spoke an indiscernible language.
The boy and the radio grew up together.
Sad and long.
A little chilly.
Silent.
Except for a
Hiss.
Then one day, the static faded away.
A new sound faded into the room.
The boy was lying in his bed,
wide awake.
He heard a piano.
Chopin.
He ran to the box.
He listened, rapt by the music.
Never heard this before.
Didn’t know what to think.
Couldn’t think.
Couldn’t breath.
The soft melody filled the room.
It was full.
The room was lovely.
The boy hosted a beautiful guest.
The music seemed to send warmth
through the chilled air,
that reached all the way
to the heart of the boy.
Then just as it had come,
the music left.
And the static returned.
The boy knelt silently in front of the box.
Wept.
Long and quietly.
Wept.
A brief dance with life
A sting of loss.
Hiss.
Written and Copyrighted by Jarod S. Osborne, 2005
