‘Heaven…’ and ‘Hunger…’

Recently I read two books that could hardly have been more different.

Heaven Is For Real by Todd Burpo is the best-selling, non-fiction account of a father (and pastor) whose four-year-old son, Colton, survives the nearly fatal aftermath of a ruptured appendix and afterward offers intriguing revelations from his near-death experience.

The Hunger Games, even better-selling, is a novel by Suzanne Collins and now a major theatrical film. The first book in a trilogy, it presents the reader with a kind of literary “Survivor” for teenagers, in which the losers are not voted off, but are carted off in body bags.

Heaven recounts that several months after Colton’s miraculous recovery, he starts remembering events related to his in hospital crisis. Even though unconscious in an operating room, Colton knew his father was alone in a room, pleading with God for help, while his mother was elsewhere praying with family members over the phone. Over the succeeding weeks, the boy recalls other things – about being in heaven, meeting his grandfather and his stillborn sister, and Jesus.

In Hunger Games, there is no heaven, no God, only an oppressive “Big Brother” type of government in which teens in various districts of the country serve as pawns, for entertainment value and for state control. Using guile, instinct and innate abilities, randomly selected contestants in the Hunger Games compete in a literal fight to the death, in which only one person can “win.”

Reading Heaven Is For Real, I found myself wondering, “Is that exactly how it is in heaven? Is Colton’s story ‘for real,’ without embellishment or explanation outside of the supernatural?” It would be – and will be – nice if this account is accurate. I suppose there is only one way we all will find out. But the underlying element in this book can be summed up in a single word: Hope.

Not a “hope-so” we often use in everyday life, wishing or desiring for something to be so – “I hope it won’t rain today.” “I hope I get that promotion.” “I hope she gets better.” No, the hope expressed in Heaven Is For Real is based on confident assurance, the earnest expectation that the promises of the Bible that there is life after death are true, whether the details look exactly as Colton describes them or not.

The Hunger Games, admittedly a very entertaining and relatively inoffensive saga, suggests no hope. In it humankind is the pinnacle, and the tale focuses on humans at their best and worst. Timeworn elements – the hero (or heroine) triumphing over great odds; love conquering all; and determination assuring victory, all are there. But for the most part the spiritual dimension of life is absent – either deemed unnecessary or unwanted by the author.

If anything, Hunger pay homage to the human spirit, the “we can do it if we try” type of mindset. And to an extent, that’s good – hard work, resolve, and refusal to give up are qualities too often lacking in our society. But to insist it’s all up to us, there is nothing else – or no One else – to turn to in times of crisis, is a conclusion I cannot accept.

Before reading Burpo’s book, I was already convinced heaven is for real. If Colton has given us a glimpse of what’s to come, that’s great. But even if it’s very different from what he described, I’m looking forward to it nonetheless.

Giving a Reason for His Hope

As you get older, you start turning to the obituaries each morning to see if anyone’s listed you might know. One comedian used to quip he’d read the obits every day to make certain he wasn’t in them – if not, then he would proceed with his plans for the day.

This morning I read the obituary of a man I hadn’t known until I heard him a couple of weeks ago, telling a lunchtime group the story of how he had committed his life to Jesus Christ. As he spoke, the man – whose first name was Porter – acknowledged his time on earth was short. He’d already reached the most optimistic limit of the doctors’ prognosis after being diagnosed with terminal cancer.

But he communicated no sense of fear, despair or anger. Having devoted much of his life to alcohol and self-indulgence, Porter was thankful for years of sobriety, new purpose in life, and most of all, assurance of life after death.

His objective in speaking was not to “earn points” with God in his waning moments. He wished only to share with friends and colleagues the difference Jesus had made in his life – and encourage them to embrace Him as well. Porter had prepared himself, as the Bible exhorts believers, “to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have…with gentleness and respect” (1 Peter 3:15).

Despite earlier failings, Porter had become reconciled with his family. As he spoke, he resonated “hope,” which the Bible defines as confident assurance, earnest expectation. He wasn’t seeking more time, or a miracle of healing. This man just wanted to share the “good news” he had discovered one more time, urging others to receive it as well.

In sports, an athlete recovering from an injury is often described as “day to day.” In reality, we are all day to day. The question is what will we do with the day we have? And if we knew with certainty we had only weeks, perhaps days left to live, how would we use them?

Porter, having been saved from the shipwreck that had been his life, spent his last moments throwing a life preserver toward anyone that would take it. And now he’s experiencing the full reality of what Jesus meant when He said, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10).

The Curious Conundrum of Words

Recently I noticed the mall bookstore had a sign that read, “Giant Book Sale.” “I wondered what that meant. Were they having a special sale on books about giants? Were they offering a special on oversized books? Or were they just having a really big, super-stupendous sale?

Funny thing about words, especially in the English language: They can mean so many things. And create a lot of confusion in the process.

Take “cool,” for example. If I go outside in the morning and say, “It’s really cool” (which hasn’t happened much lately), I’m referring to the temperature. If I meet someone and conclude, “He’s really cool,” I probably mean he’s very interesting. But if I walk in the door and notice my wife is unusually quiet and think, “she’s really cool,” I’m suspecting she’s upset about something. If I’m “cool” to an idea, it means I’m not very enthused about it.

The same applies to “hot.” It also can relate to the weather outside, as well as a pot on the stove; but “hot” can also mean something that’s very popular at the moment. “Hot” can be used to describe someone’s physical appearance, but saying someone’s “hot” might also mean the person’s extremely upset.

I suppose that’s one reason I’m not an advocate of the term “Christian.” In original translations of the Bible, the word is used only three times, twice by nonbelievers trying to label “Christ fanatics.” The sole time a follower of Jesus uses the term is when the apostle Peter writes, “if you suffer as a Christian, do not be ashamed, but praise God that you bear that name” (1 Peter 4:16).

Not that I’m ashamed of the term. If someone asks me, “Are you a Christian?” I’ll confirm that I am. But I don’t go around announcing I’m a Christian because – like giant, cool and hot – the word has come to have many, often conflicting meanings.

In our society, “Christian” can mean someone that’s not a Jew, Muslim, Hindu or Buddhist. I’ve heard people described as “a good Christian man,” meaning the person displays good morals – or at least hasn’t been caught in grievous wrongdoing. Once I asked a “Christian bookstore” what it believed, but it never gave me an answer. I doubt it was a real Christian.

That’s one of the problems with referring to the United States as “a Christian nation.” When we get to heaven, we won’t see the U.S.A. miraculously transported there.

So instead of using the ambiguous term “Christian,” I prefer referencing myself as “a Jesus follower” or “follower of Christ.” Some people might not like those terms either, but at least they’re more specific and less easily confused.

‘Dancing’ Despite the Storms

Recently we decided to spruce up our master bathroom, removing old wallpaper, replaced by a fresh coat of paint. Among the new accessories is a picture bearing the motto, “Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass…it’s about learning to dance in the rain.”

I can’t think of a better sentiment for coping with everyday life. “Storms” are inevitable, whether they involve health issues, marriage and family challenges, financial difficulties, career conflicts, cars and appliances that break down at inopportune times. The reality is not if we are going to encounter adversity in various forms, but when.

We live in a pain-avoidance society. If you have a twinge, take a Tylenol, an aspirin, or something stronger. Drugs and alcohol are commonly used by people seeking to become oblivious to the storms swirling around them. But all too often, once the Band-aid is removed, or the pain-killer wears off, the problems persist.

No amount of legislation can end them. No amount of money can buy carefree, pain-free living. So if we’re stuck with storms, what can we do? Learn to dance in the rain.

The Bible offers curious advice regarding what it terms “trials” and “tribulations”: “…we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint, because God has poured out his love into our hearts…” (Romans 5:3-5).

In case we overlook that passage, similar thoughts are found in James 1:2-4, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

Rejoice? Consider it “pure joy” when we encounter the trials and tribulations of life? That’s hard to do, without question – unless we embrace the promise from the Scriptures that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). If we truly believe that, then yes, we can learn to dance in the rain!

Coping with Life’s Surprises

Have you ever been driving down the road when suddenly you hear, “BLAM!” and realize a tire has blown out? That’s never pleasant or convenient. Life presents many “blow-out moments,” times when distressing news invades the tranquility of everyday routines.

That happened more than three years ago when I was confronted with open-heart surgery, and now my family faces another serious issue. What do you do when life throws the proverbial curve, veering you off the straight and smooth course you were following?

For me, this – more than at any other time – is when the genuineness of my faith is tested. It’s easy to profess confidence in God during good times. “Thanks, Lord, but I’ve got this pretty well handled.” But what about when circumstances exceed your grasp and there’s little you can do?

Skeptics might contend faith in times of adversity is merely a crutch, a coping mechanism. In one sense they’re correct. But if you have a sprained ankle or broken leg, a crutch isn’t just desirable; it’s necessary. The same is true of spiritual faith. We can give lip service to what we believe when all seems well, but when things spin out of control, what holds you up?

This week we observe “Good Friday,” the remembrance of Christ’s death on the cross. We celebrate it not just because of Jesus’ sacrificial act on the cross, but because of what occurred two days later. As someone has said, “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming!”

In 1 Thessalonians 4:13-14 the apostle Paul writes, “Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant…or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and arose again….” The fact Jesus triumphed over death offers not only hope for life after death, but also hope for life before death – that He is here to guide, strengthen and comfort us amid the inevitable realities of daily living.

As I’ve written before, this is hope – the earnest expectation, confident assurance of faith in a loving, gracious, merciful God, not the “hope-so” of life apart from Him.