Crossing the River, Part 2

Stonewall Jackson's last words, "Let us cross over the river and rest under the shade of the trees," prompted me to write this continuation of the last entry, but it has nothing to do with the Civil War or Confederate heroes. When I was young I used to think those were the silliest last words ever. But as time went on they became more meaningful.

My Grandpa's favorite hymn was the gospel song, Shall We Gather at the River. It's a song about crossing over into heaven and gathering at the river of the water of life that flows from the throne of God (Rev. 22:1). There is also reference in the old Negro spirituals to crossing the Jordan, meaning to cross over into heaven. It makes sense then that Jackson would want to cross that river of death and rest in the shade on the heavenly side where there will be no more war and no more struggle, but only peace.

Years ago I was attempting to share the Gospel with a squadron mate, and he said he didn't care to go to heaven. No booze, no sex, there's nothing to do. It will be boring, he told me.

I suppose that if that's the only things that you can imagine will bring you pleasure then heaven would be a boring proposition, except that the alternative is much worse. But that's the problem with most people's vision. They only see the here and now; they have no concept of what lies ahead, of a different life in a spiritual realm that is completely unrelated to how we live now.

Paul wrote to the Corinthians, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man the things which God hath prepared for them that love him (I Cor. 2:9). I am quite certain that regardless of what we think or suspect, heaven is going to be so much greater than anything we ever imagined, and it's not going to be boring.

To start with, the city of heaven is a cube, about 1500 miles in each direction, left, right, and up. It sits on a foundation of precious stones and has twelve gates made of pearls. There is a river, a crystal sea, and the tree of life, streets paved with gold, and the throne of God Almighty sitting somewhere in the middle. There are no light switches because Jesus Christ is the light of the city. You can read about it in the Book of Revelation, but the little glimpse that God gives us isn't even the tip of the iceberg. It's only a beginning description of a place words cannot begin to express and we cannot fathom, and it will never end throughout all eternity.

The last words of believers in Christ as they die intrigue me. In sleep, in battle and in other situations death comes suddenly and there is no chance for a last word. When my cousin's son, Zac, died, he was so weak when the end mercifully came, that all he could do was raise one finger and point to heaven.

But there are others who at the last moment have their "spiritual" eyes opened and gain a glimpse of what's on the other side. The famous preacher and evangelist, Dwight L. Moody, on his death bed in 1899, looked up and suddenly proclaimed, "It's glorious." Then he passed from this life and crossed the river. With no more description than that it makes you wonder what he saw that could elicit from him such a triumphant declaration.

My grandmother was in the ICU in a hospital in 1994 with the family gathered around. As she approached her final moments she began speaking in her native Frisian language and said, "I have always loved my family." A few moments later she said, "I must leave," and she was gone. It was a peaceful passing without a struggle. It made me wonder if at that moment the angels had come for her.

When our dear friend Gully was dying three years ago, my wife's sister told him to try and raise his arms if he saw the angels coming. Gully had suffered miserably with cancer. When the end came, he not only raised his arms, he sat up in the bed and shouted, "Praise the Lord." No doubt he saw the angels coming, and maybe a whole lot more.

My mother's best friend all the way back to their high school days was Jeannine Konnerup. Jeannine and her husband, Richard, were missionaries in Africa. Richard to this day still is. In 1985 Jeannine was dying of cancer. One evening when it appeared she was about to pass Richard touched her shoulder and spoke her name. She woke then and said, "Oh I wish you hadn't called me back. It was so beautiful." Two weeks later she went on to that beautiful place.

Is it any wonder our Founding Fathers wanted to make America a Christian nation? They themselves were Christians with the same faith and hope for a beautiful eternal future. What other faith or philosophy in the world offers anything to compare?

If you're a martyr for the cause of Islam you get 72 virgins for eternity. It has nothing for non-martyrs or women. Buddhism offers an end of physical desire and complete enlightenment. What that means nobody knows. The many versions of Hinduism offer reincarnation into lower life forms thousands of times before getting to some kind of reward that is unstated. Atheism offers nothing and no meaning for life. Existentialism is more of the same with a pessimistic view, as if atheism weren't already pessimistic enough.

Only the Christian faith, belief in Jesus Christ as an eternal Savior who gave His life in our place, offers any hope for a bright, eternal, joyful after life.

I don't know any more that I could say other than heaven is a place that I don't want to miss. And I'm not going to because on January 8, 1967, when I was twelve years old, I asked Jesus Christ to forgive my sins and come into my heart and save me. He did and I have the confidence of the testimony of the Word of God that when I come to the Valley of the Shadow, I will cross the river and join those gone before in my eternal home.

How about you?