The actual Good Place

Michael: The Good Place is divided into distinct neighborhoods. Each one contains exactly 322 people who have been perfectly selected to blend together into a blissful harmonic balance.
Eleanor: Do all the neighborhoods look like this?
Michael: No, every neighborhood is unique. Some have warm weather, some cold. Some are cities, some farmland. But in each one, every blade of grass, every ladybug, every detail has been precisely designed and calibrated for its residents.
Eleanor: There’s a lot of frozen yogurt places.
Michael: Yeah. That’s the one thing we put in all the neighborhoods. People love frozen yogurt. I don’t know what to tell you.

(Season 1, episode 1)

People have all kinds of ideas about heaven. One idea is that heaven is perfectly tailored to each individual, and is a place where your every desire is fulfilled for eternity. In other words, the fantasy of a two year old: whatever you want, whenever you want it.

Another image is that heaven is a boring place where people sit on clouds and play harps all day. A child once said he didn’t want to go to heaven; when asked why, he replied, “I don’t like peas.” Apparently he had misheard “sleep in heavenly peace” as “peas,” which gave him a pretty bizarre image of heaven.

More thoughtfully, season four of The Good Place brings up the issue of what could happen to relationships if you spent eternity with the same people:

Chidi: Looking at Eleanor’s life made me realize how different we are. If the system works and we both pass our tests, I don’t see any version of eternity where she doesn't get bored of me. I mean, my fake heaven was a 600-square-foot apartment that was essentially a bookcase and a toilet, and I loved it.

(Season 4, episode 11)

Not to mention the threat of becoming “happiness zombies” who spend their time drinking perfect milkshakes — and go-kart racing with monkeys (and Draculas with jetpacks) — until their brains turn to mush.

The solution presented by the writers of The Good Place to give more meaning to eternity is to re-introduce permanent death for those that wish to volunteer for it. But there is nothing good about death in itself; it is the opposite of life (and joy, fulfillment, hope and so on), and an appropriate subject for grief — permanent separation from someone you care about is Not A Good Thing.

Here on earth someone might be reconciled to the idea of their own death and that of their loved ones, and there is a certain maturity about accepting things you can’t change — but when there is a genuine choice (and it is not an edge case involving prolonged suffering), embracing the path of death instead of life is ... nuts, to use the technical term. We were made to live — really live: Jesus said, “I came that they may have life, and have it in abundance (or ‘to the full’).”

What all this is missing (according to Christianity) is the one thing that makes heaven, heaven: the direct presence of God. The most loving, vibrant, intelligent, beautiful, amazing person in the universe – who knows you completely, and has since before you were born (and even before the universe was created). The source of every good thing you have ever experienced, and with plans for so much more: “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him.”

One of the deepest longings of the human heart — whether acknowledged of not — is to know and be known by another. That longing finds its ultimate fulfillment in our relationship with God. The Bible says, “Then we will know fully, even as we are fully known.” That is completely mind blowing. There are endless depths to God which we will spend eternity discovering, but on a relational level we will know God intimately, face to face, with no hindrance in the way.

Another aspect of heaven is transformation: when Jesus returns, we will be given new bodies “like his glorious body” that are not only immortal and imperishable (no more sickness), but do not have “the flesh” any more – the pull towards sin is gone, and we are restored to the pure and perfect state we originally had before the Fall. (Which incidentally means that everyone else in heaven will totally love you, and it will be safe to be 100% transparent and vulnerable with people at all times). An intriguing verse also says, “What we will be has not yet been made known.”

There will be no more suffering: “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.” Instead, there is a lot of joy in heaven – not fake smiles but unrestrained enjoyment of the freedom and life we have.

The joy is not based on self gratification, even though King David did mention “eternal pleasures at your right hand.” In context, “In your presence is fullness of joy.” It turns out God is a pretty happy person, and it is contagious to those around him.

And there are things for us to do in heaven. Jesus told plenty of parables where someone who had been faithful with small things on earth was entrusted with more and bigger things to do in heaven. He even spoke about reigning with him on his throne. The Bible doesn’t go into detail, but helping to rule over creation sounds like an awesome job to have.

The idea of getting bored in heaven (or in God’s presence) is very foreign to Christianity. Passing on to eternity is described in the Bible as “What is mortal being swallowed up by Life” — real life, the way it was always created to be. No wonder Paul said he desired to depart and be with Jesus, which is “better by far.”

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Everything is fine

Change