What Does Being a Citizen of Heaven Actually Mean?

It Literally Means Eternal Life

In 1897, eight-year-old Virginia O’Hanlon asked her father if Santa was real, as some of her little friends were telling her there is no Santa Claus. A loyal reader of the New York Sun, her father suggested she pose her question to the newspaper because “If you see it in The Sun, it’s so.” The editor of The Sun published her letter and replied that her little friends were wrong, affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. “They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.” The existence of Santa Claus is as certain as the existence of love, generosity and devotion.

This is such a beautiful letter I had a difficult time selecting just one quote from it. I encourage you to read it in its entirety. This letter came to mind because I think that this editor’s explanation to Virginia O’Hanlon is similar to what God is trying to explain to us through the Scriptures, the key difference of course being that I believe Scripture’s literal promise of eternal life will come to fruition. God’s promises are no mere figment of human imagination, but in our day and age, when a scientific worldview is predominant in our culture, it is difficult for even the most committed Christians not to feel the influence of this skeptical age. Yet the Bible is clear that “faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see” (Hebrews 11:1). In Mark 10:15, Jesus says, “I tell you the truth, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” In sermons I have heard on this passage over the years, the pastor explains that we must receive the kingdom of God with a spirit of humility. In Jesus’s day, children were not valued, and had very little social status in Roman society, and yet they approached Jesus with sincerity, whereas some people of high social status mistakenly thought their high position in this world would grant them entrance into God’s kingdom. But I also wonder if in this verse, Jesus is also trying to teach us that we must anticipate his kingdom with the same innocence, the same unvarnished joy as children anticipating the arrival of Santa Claus.

When Adam and Eve disobeyed God and ate from the forbidden tree allowing sin to enter the world, their sin separated them and us from God, and cursed all of creation. God longs to redeem us, and reverse the curse of sin, which is why he sent his son to atone for our sins, yet he revealed himself in such a way that no one would find him through intellect alone. “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise; the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate” (Isaiah 29:14, 1 Corinthians 1:19). Jesus also wasn’t fooled by the multitudes who followed him just to witness the miracles he was performing when their hearts were hard and he knew they had no interest in surrendering their lives to him. This is why he taught in parables, so that those sincerely seeking him would understand, but the eyes of those with hard hearts would be metaphorically blinded, unable to understand Christ’s message or receive the kingdom of God. Sadly, for all of our advances in scientific knowledge and technology, human nature hasn’t changed at all in two thousand years. Today, just as in Jesus’s day, there are people who refuse to accept Christ employing either scientific analysis to try and prove that God does not exist, or textual criticism to argue that the Bible is a “Big lie.” And even worse, there are grifters, people who pretend to believe, but exploit religion for purposes of wealth or political power. While I pray that God might soften the hearts of these people, I do not want to argue with these people today. There are apologists far more qualified than I am who argue the case far more eloquently than I could, and if they cannot change the hearts of these people—heck, if Jesus couldn’t change the hearts of many of the people in his day—I certainly won’t have any impact in this area. And no matter what I say, skeptics will cry that I am biased because I already presume God’s promises in the Bible are true. But in response, I ask, aren’t you also biased if you have already decided that God doesn’t exist? There is no such thing in this world as a completely impartial, unbiased person. We all have unique life experiences that inevitably shape our thoughts and attitudes.

I am not qualified to give an answer to every scientific objection or textual criticism. All I know is when I sing sacred texts with my choir, I often find the music is so beautiful I cry. When I sit on the porch swing in Spring and hear the majestic call of the sandhill crane, or hear black-capped chickadees literally sing in coordinated harmony, or when my parents and I go for a walk or drive slowly with the windows rolled down and a warm breeze carries the aroma of lilacs in bloom I am filled with a sense of awe and wonder words cannot explain. In these moments, as John Eldredge eloquently describes in his book All Things New: Heaven, Earth and the Restoration of Everything You Love, I find that my heart also whispers, “This is what we were meant for” (Page 38). But when I visited my grandma in a stinky nursing home and Mom helped her eat gross pureed food—and when she passed away the day after Christmas—when I am incapacitated for the day with a migraine, when people I love make me irrationally angry and I quarrel with them, when I watch the news full of stories of war, petty partisan politics and environmental devastation, I have a nagging sense that it wasn’t supposed to be this way. As Blaise Pascal rhetorically asked in 1670, “What else does this craving, and this helplessness proclaim but that there was once in man a true happiness, of which all that now remains is the empty print and trace?”

But while I consider myself a committed Christian, I must confess that sometimes, I can identify with Virginia. I want to believe, to trust fully in God’s promises, but it is so hard sometimes not to be discouraged by the skepticism of our secular society and its view that this life is all there is. And while I can only speak for myself, I have a feeling I am not alone here. But I am convinced that if we committed Christians had a more tangible understanding of what being a citizen of Heaven will mean, and if we truly believed, fully trusted in these promises, we would sin less, realizing how short-sighted, silly and ridiculous all of our sin, from misguided Christian Nationalism, to my impatience and self-centered idolatry of worldly comfort and independence really is compared to God’s incredible eternal promises.

So what will being a citizen of Heaven mean? If you remember nothing else from this post good Christian brothers and sisters, when Scripture speaks of eternal life, this does not mean some vague heaven where we sit on clouds and play harps. In fact, in his book Heaven, Randy Alcorn argues that this misconception is why even many committed Christians fear death. This kind of eternal life is boring, no life at all, and has no basis in Scripture. Randy Alcorn argues that the reason many Christians have this misconception about eternal life is because seminary schools where pastors are trained devote little if any attention to this subject, and the reason for this is because “Satan is determined to rob us of the joy we’d have if we believed what God tells us about the magnificent world to come” (Page 12). He does this by causing our weak minds to succumb to naturalism, the idea that what we cannot see isn’t real, or by convincing us that Heaven is a place of boring, unearthly existence so that we will focus on this life rather than the next, and be unmotivated to share our faith. “The blind must take by faith that there are stars in the sky. If they depend on their ability to see, they will conclude there are no stars” (Page 13). I take it by faith from my parents when they describe how beautiful the sky is some nights. And I also take it by faith that one day, I will get to see the sky for myself because Jesus spoke confidently of a coming renewal of all things (Matthew 19:28), and Peter, an original apostle who sat at Christ’s feet recognized that Jesus was the fulfillment of God’s promise to restore all things “as he promised long ago through his Holy prophets” (Acts 3:21). Isaiah 35:5-6 declares “Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped. Then the lame will leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy. Water will gush forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert.” Whenever I hear of oppression or injustice in the news, or even if I am just having a discouraging day at work, I rejoice in Isaiah 65:21-22 which promises that “They—the people of the new Jerusalem—will build houses and dwell in them; they will plant vineyards and eat their fruit. No longer will they build houses and others live in them, or plant and others eat. For as the days of a tree, so will be the days of my people; my chosen ones will long enjoy the works of their hands.” This passage suggests that all oppression will cease, and that we will be doing work familiar to us, but this work will be free from the curse of sin. I also like to think that given other passages that describe gladness and singing in the New Jerusalem, and the fact that the purpose for our work will be glorifying God rather than meeting company quotas, there will be plenty of time for singing, probably even the freedom to sing while I work. And as much as I enjoy sitting on the porch swing and listening for the sandhill cranes and black-capped chickadees, I know I will be thrilled on that day when I get to witness the wolf living with the lamb, the leopard lying down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling feeding together, and a little child leading them” (Isaiah 11:6). I wonder if at first, we will freak out if we see an infant playing near the hole of a cobra, or a young child putting his hand into a viper’s nest (Isaiah 11:8) but we will soon realize we have nothing to fear because “they will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain, for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea” (Isaiah 11:9). There are so many other beautiful passages I could reference, but I don’t want this post to turn into a novel. But you can bet I will be referencing more passages in the future whenever context allows.

Some of my inspiration for this post I owe to a couple years of joyful Saturday conversations with my friends who were Jehovah’s Witnesses. I wrote about them last summer, and while I did not convert because many of their beliefs are theologically inaccurate, their belief that one day those who accept Christ will live on a paradise earth is correct, and they were not afraid to talk about it in literal terms. One of my friends mentioned a woman in their congregation who is autistic and nonverbal, and she loves to imagine the day when this woman will be able to talk to her heart’s content, and I mentioned how I cannot wait for the day when I can run, both arms swinging at my side without needing a cane, dog or sighted person to keep me safe, and gaze at the sky for myself. Conversations like this were a much-needed well of hope and joy in a difficult season for me, and I believe this kind of talk was why my friends aren’t rattled by current events like the rest of us are. When I brought this up to a friend at our church, she expressed the fear that too much talk of eternal life would cause us to be so heavenly minded that we are of no earthly good. But Randy Alcorn points to C. S. Lewis who noted that history shows that Christians who contributed the most to the present world were those who thought most of the next. “We need a generation of heavenly minded people who see human beings and the earth itself not simply as they are, but as God intends them to be” (Page 21).

Imagine that you were a diehard Taylor Swift fan and you managed to score tickets to one of her concerts. (I am not a Taylor Swift fan for the record, just trying to use a culturally relevant analogy). You would be so excited for the upcoming show that you would be humming her songs as you went about your days, and it would be difficult to resist telling your friends, neighbors, coworkers, anyone who will listen how awesome she is. You might be so excited you don’t wait until concert night to wear your friendship bracelets. We should anticipate God’s promises regarding our eternal heavenly citizenship with an even greater degree of excitement. We should “talk about them when you sit at home, and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up” (Deuteronomy 6:7). And all this talk should have us so excited we cannot wait to give the world a little foretaste of God’s kingdom via our treatment of the poor, minorities and asylum-seekers via our unconditional love even toward those we disagree with, via our priorities when we vote here and now.

That Reminds me of a Song: While I was writing this, Brooks & Dunn’s song Believe, was playing in my head. The narrator of the song is a young man reflecting back on a couple summers he spent on the porch swing talking to an old man in his neighborhood. The old man had a lot of tragedy in his life, including the loss of his wife and child, but he knew he would see them in just a little while because he was confident in the “words written in red”, meaning the words Jesus spoke, which are written in red in the NIV bible. When the young man went off to college, and his mother called to tell him the old man died, the young man “didn’t know whether to cry or laugh” and this old man’s faith made such an impression on the young man that he too became convinced that it does not end with a slow ride in a hearse, that this world cannot be all there is. I don’t think this song would bring a tear to my eye if our God wasn’t real.