Every Woman a Theologian

Week Eight

Have you ever noticed how superstitious baseball players are? For real. They are kind of weird. They take great care to stay off the baseline. They have strange rituals when they step up to the plate. And some of them refuse to wash their socks (or sliding shorts - gross). They have certain habits they refuse to change on game day for fear of playing poorly and goodness, don’t mess with their equipment.

My son is in a hitting slump. He broke his bat & it has been a rough few weeks getting adjusted. His dad keeps telling him it isn’t the bat - and he is right, as far as I am aware. I don’t know a lick about sports and couldn’t tell for certain, but I have a little experience in psychology and simply know better (a.k.a. I’m a mom).

It’s not the bat, it’s the batter.

When Gav steps up to the plate, he is in his head. Sometimes, he is his own worst enemy - which can be said for all of us. We know the answer. We know the way. We know the process. We know the routine. But we secondguess ourselves. We let doubt and insecurity creep in, and pretty soon, we can’t swing the dang bat.

Do you ever feel that way when you think about death and eternity? I know, abrupt transition - but it’s all I have. It is no secret I am afraid of death. Not the dying part. I am all for going to see Jesus. I am afraid of the process of dying. My fear has heightened since the death of my dad. Now, instead of wondering if every bump or pain is cancer, I also wonder if death is knocking at my door with every breath or headache. Welcome to my anxious world.

I know the truth - and so do you. It’s actually pretty simple. We live. We die. We see Jesus - if we made Him Lord and Savior of our life here on earth. But I am still in my head when I wake up with an unusual pain or when I can’t catch my breath. In fact, those pains sent me to the ER and eventually brought me through a gamut of testing. Apparently, hormones mixed with anxiety packs a punch. My superpower is worrying about it and wondering about my inevitable death.

I’m an odd duck. I fully embrace that fact. But c’mon, don’t you ever wonder what it will be like when you die? Will someone greet us at the pearly gates? Will we stand before a screen that replays the highs and lows of our life? Will there be a “big, big table, with lots and lots of food?” Will we walk on streets paved with gold and take in the most beautiful scenery? Will we see the angels and sing with them? If we do, will we get better voices than what we use down here?

What about people in heaven? What will we look like? I always joke about being a size six in heaven, but I’ll take a ten. Will I be able to pick out my mom and dad from the crowd? How will we converse with each other? I have questions for Paul - is he prepared for those questions? Will there be food? Coffee? Animals? Comfy chairs? Will I bow before Jesus…and then ask him a bunch of questions? Will I remember my questions? Will my anxiety just disappear or will I still be a little extra to everyone up there? Will I finally have a friend who doesn’t move or blow me off? What will we do for eternity? Worship - yes, but what else? Will we have to take care of the garden like Adam and Eve? Does God know I kill plants?

There are so many unanswered questions about heaven (and hell) - questions that drive an anxious mind crazy. Some serious. Some silly. Regardless, it is important to explore the answers. We won’t know them concretely because that is impossible. But as we study heaven and hell, we can get a better idea of what is to come - and find a little peace and hope. Eschatology is the study of the final things, and the topic of the last chapter in Phylicia Masonheimer’s book Every Woman a Theologian. It is the culinating moment of what God does to reconcile and bring justice to the world he created.

The end times are kind of like my anxious brain, filled with a thousand scenarios. Good thing we can rest assured, God knows what he is doing. We won’t know with certainty what will happen to us or to the world around us, but, as Phylicia poignantly writes,

“A biblical eschatology is a hopeful eschatology. We are already part of the story God is writing. We can trust there is a good ending. The best is yet to come.”

I may be in my head, but in a strange way, I am also ready for it. For the best. I’m weary and so tired of the less than best down here. If I die of cancer or have a stroke or live to see Jesus swoop in and defeat the enemy once and for all, I won’t be afraid. I hope you won’t be afraid either. Instead, as you wrap up the final chapter of EWAT, I hope you are encouraged as you think about the end of life - because it brings hope and joy like nothing we have ever experiend.

What is one thing you are looking forward to in eternity?

D 😊