We buried Eleanor in her Florida crypt last weekend, right next to Dad whose body has been resting there for 12 years. In matching caskets, their remains await a transformation, while their spirits live with God. What are they waiting for? To be "swept up into the air" with Christ, says 1Thessalonians. To be "clothed with immortality..." says 1Corinthians. There isn't anything more specific than that. That the spirit lives is a given, but how the remains are resurrected is a mystery.
We are to receive glorified bodies. Like Jesus who still could point to the nail marks to prove to the apostles that "it is I, myself," we will bear some resemblance to ourselves, but also like him, we will be as unrecognizable as he was to the disciples on the road to Emmaus. St. Paul discusses these issues in 1 Cor 15. He reminds us that just as the grain of wheat that is sown does not resemble the body that it becomes, what we will be is not what we are now. To that, most of us would say, Hallelujah!, but still, it is a curious question.
I think that the bodies are not going to be particularly corporeal. I think, instead, that we are to become light. Those who have seen heavenly figures describe them as "robed in light as with a cloak" (Psalm 104). In the Transfiguration, the clothes of Jesus are described as being more dazzling than any bleach on earth could make them. He says of himself that He is the Light of the World. The first epistle of John declares that "In him, there is no darkness at all." Therefore, there can be no darkness - us - around him either because light dispels the darkness. We have been called, as 1Peter reveals, "into his marvelous light."
How does this happen? Just as our spirits are turned into unconditional Love through a process of inner awareness and behavioral change throughout our lives, perhaps our bodies have a transformational process to undergo as well. What we see as physical "crosses" to bear, may be like the shedding of self that our spirits undergo.
We know that our bodies naturally fall apart, if by no other action than aging, and that they lose their resiliency. Maybe as they become more malleable, they are more receptive to becoming transparent and light filled. It's an odd concept, but our bodies and souls are joined in life, so if the one must become spiritually mature, does it follow that the other must undergo some kind of maturation as well?
Some spiritual movements have rejected the body and seen it as an impediment to holiness. Others have exalted it almost to the exclusion of the spirit. As with so many ideas, the answer must lie somewhere in the middle. Our bodies can be used by God just as God uses our work, entertainment and worship to help us see His hand. We are saved, body and soul, for eternal life.
This notion that the body has its own part to play in the salvation drama gives me more respect for this "tent" that has given me any number of problems over the years. I wonder how I can help it prepare to let the light shine through?
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also (Matt 6:21)
During the past week, my thoughts, if not my heart, have been on the "things" of Eleanor's apartment which must be cleared out by the end of the month. During our lives, we all put such store on the "things" of our existence, but in the end it is they who are left behind who make the choice as to their value.
The table that we carefully chose and cared for could be sold for $5 at a yard sale or wind up on display in a grandchild's home or be the cause of a family feud. Our most intimate belongings are open to inspection and speculation.
At the moment, the distribution of Eleanor's assets feels a bit like breaking and entering and I want to protect her from prying eyes - even mine. I remind myself that Eleanor isn't in her "things," just as she is no longer in the box of ashes on my dining room table. Her treasure was her faith and she used her "things" to make this life more pleasant for herself and those she loved. But that's hard to remember when "things" stir the heart and we treasure the memories.
The table that we carefully chose and cared for could be sold for $5 at a yard sale or wind up on display in a grandchild's home or be the cause of a family feud. Our most intimate belongings are open to inspection and speculation.
At the moment, the distribution of Eleanor's assets feels a bit like breaking and entering and I want to protect her from prying eyes - even mine. I remind myself that Eleanor isn't in her "things," just as she is no longer in the box of ashes on my dining room table. Her treasure was her faith and she used her "things" to make this life more pleasant for herself and those she loved. But that's hard to remember when "things" stir the heart and we treasure the memories.
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