No Zombies in Heaven

I have a close friend with whom I have little in common. She is younger, cooler, and probably wears the same unthinkably tiny pant-size as my sixteen year-old daughter. I’m older, not cool at all really, and a few pant-sizes bigger. My friend loves caring for small children, she likes being busy, she loves politics. Me . . . not so much. I work the nursery at church once a month and that pretty much reaches my limit. I love not having a full calendar, and never even watch the news. She likes being clean and not sweaty. I figure, I have a shower, a washing machine, and a water hose so I hike and poke around in my gardens with a great deal of abandon, unconcerned with mud-caked shoes, burr-covered pants, or the twigs and leaves sticking out of my hair.

We do have things in common. We are both introverts, have a similar sense of humor, and we have sons who are the same age. If I recall, they may have been the force that first brought us together.

Our boys’ friendship is a bit shaky at times. They often ask to play together but inevitably argue over something. My friend and I have come to expect their disagreements and, in fact, organize time together for them because of it. During their most recent outing together - - a hike with me - - my friend and I communicated by text message:

My friend: “So, are they getting along?”

Me: “They are now, but they had a blow-out earlier over whether or not your lip hurts when it bleeds. Good grief.”

When I say “blow-out” I mean it and am neither thrilled nor afraid to admit to myself or my friend that my son does most of the blowing. Kindly, she always responds with words of encouragement and often points out that her son tends to know which buttons to push and pushes them. We echo each other in stating that our boys are prideful, and when they are together they cannot ‘leave it alone’ until someone ‘wins’ and is proven right.

While our sons may have brought us together, our parenting styles are very different. Her son is a sharper dresser, out-going, and sometimes I admit to coveting, on my son’s behalf, her child’s light-heartedness and ability to converse with anyone no matter their age. He is also super polite. My son is quiet and serious. He feels deeply and wears his emotions like a coat. He is quick to anger and slow to forgive sometimes, and has taken on his mother’s preference for clothes that work equally well for sleep, work, or play. He is uncomfortable talking with adults or really anyone he doesn’t know well. My son is gentle, though, and tender-hearted; my friend tells me she desires those traits for her son.

The boys were the reason my friend and I met and began to spend time together, but they are not the glue that binds us as friends. We certainly can’t credit our common interests or personalities in holding us together either but let me share with you a “sample” conversation between my friend and I, nothing verbatim, not a true historical account of anything we have said, but a typical talk upon pick up or drop off of our boys. See if you can pick out what makes our friendship stick. (Names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent):

“They had a big argument today. Thomas lost control of every emotion his body contains,” I say. My head hangs a little as I stand there feeling like the worst parent ever.

My friend waves a hand and laughs. (She is practical and not prone to drama, one of many things I appreciate about her.) “No worries, Clarence probably egged him on, he can be like that sometimes, just doesn’t know when to quit. They’ll figure it out.”

“I know, it’s just frustrating. I always try and prepare Thomas for his time with Clarence. I remind him that he doesn’t need to win every argument, and that his being ‘right’ isn’t as important as honoring God by preferring his friend.”

“I told Clarence the exact same thing.” She smiles and gives me a hug and Clarence asks if Thomas can come over again soon! 

Did you catch it? The glue, the bond?  It’s in her reply, “I told Clarence the exact same thing.” The source of the shared wisdom that we offer our sons, that’s our secret; it’s the exact same thing. Both of us were once “far off” from God and both have been “brought near by the blood of Christ.” He has become our peace, has made us one and broken down, in his flesh, any dividing walls, any hostility. (Ephesians 2:13,14) I don’t have to create for my friend and her son a set of personal standards to meet nor does she need to do that for me. We know that neither of us are worthy of setting any rules or wise enough to make them, and we are not powerful enough to hold anyone to them. We are free from that trap; free to recognize that we sin and so do our children. We are also free to ask and receive God’s forgiveness and instruction, and grace to obey. We are free to do this over and over and over again and to pass that same mercy on to others.

God’s idea of oneness saturates His story. In John 15 Jesus refers to himself as a vine and his followers as branches growing from the life inside him. The branches vary in shape, size, production of leaves and fruit, but they all have the vine in common - - if they do not, they wither and fall away. In John 16, Jesus warns his followers that they will soon be scattered. He just said they needed to abide in him, stay attached to the vine, but they are going to be dispersed, far from him and far from each other. Then in chapter 17, he prays they will be one in the same way he is one with the Father. What does that kind of oneness look like? Is it something we can imitate or fathom? Apparently, it’s the kind of oneness that doesn’t require close proximity physically. It is the kind of oneness that produces in hearts that are different from one another, that are not nearby, that may not even be acquainted, that “exact same thing.”  

My friend and I are amalgamated, fused together by the Vine that is our life. So we don’t put our faith in our children or in our parenting skills. We don’t teach our boys that the aim is their “rightness” but it is their “righteousness” that is only available to them because of the sacrifice that no one but Jesus could make on their behalf. This oneness of faith and purpose causes me to enjoy the ways my friend is not like me. It causes me to seek her counsel, to smile when I see her, to know I can trust her to speak wisdom to my son - - the same wisdom that I would speak if I were present because it is wisdom that is not our own, it comes, as does our every breath, from Christ. When my son hears my friend speak what is true he is hearing Christ.

Jesus is the manifestation of God’s name. (John 17:6) He reconciles us to God in one body on the cross. (Ephesians 2:16)  He is the image of the invisible God and in him all the fullness of God dwells. (Colossians 1:15-20) He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature. (Hebrews 1:3) Ephesians 1:20, John 2:19, and Romans 8:11 tells us that every member of the triune God raised Jesus from death. In Christ, we see, hear, touch God the Father. The Spirit makes sure we understand what we hear the Father and Son speak. There is no division among them. They are One and unwaveringly alike in wisdom, power, and purpose. When the people of earth saw Jesus, they saw God. When Jesus spoke, he spoke God’s Words. When he died, He died our death. We are supposed to be one just like that - - as Christ and his Father are one.

You can feel the significance of unity in Paul’s letters; the floor shaking as he paces dictating to Sosthenes his pleas for the Corinthians to be of one accord. Sosthenes in turn scrambling to get it in writing and on its way as fast as possible. Like a caged mother bear, Paul was desperate to reach his cubs, to be with them in person so they can see his countenance and know how important their harmony is for the sake of the Gospel. It is a matter of life and death for a church.

Jesus says in John 17:22 that he has given to us the glory the Father gave to him and he says he did so that we may be one in the same way he and the Father are one. Why? According to Jesus it is “so that the world may believe that you [the Father] sent me.” (John17:21)  I hope that’s what “Thomas” and “Clarence” see in my friend and me. I hope they see the truth that Jesus came at God’s command to save us. I hope in the wisdom we share from Scripture, the truth becomes true for both of them because their hope of glory and of Heaven depends on the Truth. According to Colossians 1:4 and 5, the Colossian’s faith in Christ and their love for all the saints was a result of their hope laid up in Heaven. Our glory, our hope of heaven, our faith in Jesus, and our love for one another are a packaged deal. We can’t have faith if we don’t love. We can’t reside in Heaven if we don’t love. We will not see glory without love.  

But if, as believers, we are not operating as one; if we as God’s people quarrel and fight among ourselves, sprinkling our relationships with speculation, assumption, self-centered perspectives that presume to know another’s motive, and we just keep stirring it all together until our unity dissolves; If we just watch it happen because we are too set on vindication for ourselves and not the glory of Jesus, what then? Does the world see something grotesque? A body chopped in bits, stumbling around in a state of constant decay, mangling words of truth in order to justify lies they are so desperate to believe about themselves, their children, their church? Are we more undead than fully and gloriously alive? A body broken in bits cannot lift up its Head.