Storytelling is at the heart of Christianity. God is a storyteller. We are either enraptured by and absorbed into this story, or we reckon it repugnant and run from the “Once upon a time”. Adam and Eve ate the fruit, bringing death into the world. Yet, in the primordial darkness, the first note of a grand symphony rang: Eve’s offspring would crush the serpent’s head. And two millennia before our time, a baby was born in Bethlehem. He would die and rise again, and in rising, as Paul notes in the passage above, He would secure our resurrection from the dead. In Christ was the death of death and the guarantee of life after death. For this reason, as the hymn says, “our hope springs eternal”. In this article, I seek to focus on one part of this story, namely our eternal hope.

We will begin our brief journey by contemplating what heaven is. It is where God “will wipe away every tear from [his people’s] eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” (Revelation 21:4). Heaven is a great city with “no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb.” (Revelation 21:9-23). “By its light will the nations walk, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it, its gates shall never be shut by day”, and “there will be no night there” (Revelation 21:24-26). There shall be a “river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb” and the “tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month.” (Revelation 21:1-2). We shall behold “[God’s] face” and “reign forever and ever” (Revelation 22:4-5).

Audio reading of this post

On the New Year: Reflections on Eternity¹

Human recollection is a fickle thing. We quickly lose memories. For an event that occurred recently, we can recall more. But for an event that was further away, our minds hold blurred memories; mere snapshots and vague remembrances of atmosphere. For instance, in my first year of high school, our class went on an overnight tramp to Waitawheta. I can now remember snapshots of verdure, glimpses of swift rivers, chiaroscuros cast by swaying trees, a starry multitude residing in the night sky, glowworms nestled in rocks, the excitement of playing tag outside the hut, and an inordinate amount of tomato sauce ordered at a fast food joint. I still remember small details, like an elderly stranger advising me to roll up my sleeping bag because it would damage the seams less. But most of my memories have been consumed by time. Think of similar examples for yourself. How much could you remember right after the event occurred, and how much can you remember now? Perhaps there is a nostalgic veil over the entire thing, and you cannot remember much more.

Though human memory swiftly evanesces like a firework, God is different. The Scriptures tell us in bewildering, fascinating, and terrifying fashion that “from everlasting to everlasting [He is] God” (Ps. 90:2). “[W]ith the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day (2 Pet. 3:8). God “inhabits eternity” (Isa. 57:15). Traditional Christianity has interpreted these passages, along with a multitude of other passages, as teaching the eternity of God. Geerhardus Vos, the great Reformed Dutch theologian, described the eternity of God as the “attribute of God whereby He is exalted above all limitations of time and all succession of time, and in a single indivisible present possesses the content of His life perfectly (and as such is the cause of time)”.² What I want to centrally focus on here is the phrase “in a single indivisible present”. This concept, upon further reflection, is mind-boggling. Let me explain.