Hope

When I was a kid, whenever my brother or I would hear my mom in the kitchen in the late afternoon, we would yell out, “Mom, what’s for supper?”  Her answer was always the same, not rudely, but matter-of-fact, she would say, “You’ll see in a minute.”  I never understood why she wouldn’t just tell us what we were having.  Then I had kids of my own.  I like to cook.  It’s safe to say that my tastes in food are different from those of my wife and children.  They prefer the old reliable standards: spaghetti, meatloaf, mac and cheese.  I prefer more exotic fare.  Once when I was on a trip by myself, I had an egg white omelet with goat cheese and asparagus for breakfast.  It was one of the most amazing things I had ever tasted.  So when I got home, I found a recipe for that sort of omelet online.  I went to the store to buy all the ingredients, most of which we don’t typically stock in our house.  And one morning, I got up early and made one for my wife (I wasn’t going to waste such special cuisine on my heathen children).  Carrie was very nice, but while her mouth said “Thank you,” the rest of her face was saying, “How much more of this do I have to choke down before you go away and I can feed the rest to the dog?”  So now, when my wife and kids hear me in the kitchen, they often say, “What’s for supper?”  And I hate to tell them, because if it’s not something boring like roast beef or pork chops, I’ll hear that uncomfortable silence that’s really them thinking, “I wonder how successfully I can fake a stomach virus?” 

            I think, if we’re honest, that’s how many of us feel when we think of Heaven.  Someone asked an old English Vicar once what happens when we die.  He replied, "I suppose we shall enjoy eternal bliss.  But I wish you wouldn't bring up such depressing subjects."  I have a friend who was raised in church, but now in his mid-twenties, he's struggling with what he believes about God and eternity.  He told me recently, "I don't even want to believe in Heaven.  The thought of just dying and being dead is much more comforting to me than the thought of eternity in a place I know nothing about."  We know that God has something planned for us, and we know HE thinks it’s going to be great—because, after all, He loves us—but we’re afraid, like my kids are when I cook, that it will be something He enjoys a LOT more than the rest of us.  But the fact is that God is perfectly willing to tell us what He is cooking up for our future.  And the truth is far greater than we can imagine.  This Sunday, we'll take a look at Isaiah 65:17-25, one of many passages of Scripture in both Testaments that show us enough of a glimpse of Heaven to whet our appetites...and to fill us with a hope that changes our earthly lives.