Growing up in conservative evangelicalism, there was one question above all others that consumed my every waking hour.
Will I go to heaven?
That question was in turn followed up by a host of others: What do I have to do to get there? Who else will be there? Can I accidentally screw things up and get turned away at the pearly gates for some unknown reason? Hypothetically, if someone was born, lived, and died on a desert island and never heard about Jesus would they get to go to heaven too? Because that seems unfair because I was told in no uncertain terms that the only way to get to heaven was to ask Jesus into my heart as my personal Lord and Savior otherwise I would go to hell.
Everything I did, said, thought, prayed, sang, read, even the clothes I wore ultimately came back to the matter of my eternal destiny.
That’s not hyperbole. I literally wrote a book about my adolescent fear of hell and never-ending quest for heaven.
I still have questions about heaven today, but they’re much different than the sort of questions I asked in my youth.
Rather than worry about whether or not I’ve properly gamed the system to secure my ticket through the pearly gates, I now find myself wondering if there will be any Christians in heaven at all.
I know that probably sounds a bit absurd, so please allow me a moment to explain.
Personally, I think most of us will be surprised by the incredible diversity of our heavenly neighbors. In fact, I would go so far as to say there will be a whole lot of folks in heaven who never professed Jesus as Lord.
But as someone who once believed that as a Christian, I and my fellow Christians personally controlled the keys to heaven and because many of my fellow Christians continue to believe that to the point it compels them to try to institute public policy they believe must be followed in order to hear “Come on in!” from St. Peter, I think it’s worth taking a harder look at whether or not American Christians have the firm grasp on heavenly real estate they believe they do.
Because when Jesus talked about heaven, he said the path to get there was narrow and so was the gate and not everyone who called him “Lord” would enter.
In fact, he went into even more detail near the end of his own life, explaining that the way into heaven wasn’t through magic words at an altar, a profession of faith, or affirmation of dogma, but through acts of love and service to our neighbors, particularly the least of these because for Jesus, heaven wasn’t just a reward for a life well lived, it was an extension of that good life into eternity. By loving and serving the least of these now, we prepare for life in the kingdom of God because that’s what life is like in heaven - a world made new, where the first are last, the weak are made strong, the poor made rich, and all the systems of power of this world have been brought low.
Which is why I find it so strange when I look around today and see so many self-professing Christians working so hard to create and sustain a way of life that is completely the opposite of the everlasting loved filled life they say they want in heaven.
They say we must love one another, bear one another’s burdens, and not look out only for our own interests, but also the interest of others and yet far too many of them can’t be bothered to wear a simple cloth mask or take a vaccine that could prevent both them and their neighbors from getting sick and dying.
They say discipleship is a way of life and yet they are creating literal Get Out Of Discipleship free cards in the form of “religious exemption” letters that allow them to avoid basic public health and safety measures.
They say we are all one in Christ Jesus, that there is no longer Jew or Gentile, male or female, slave or free, and yet they support white supremacist politicians and policies in overwhelming numbers and when any effort is made to stand up to racism or teach about its vile influence on our nation’s history, those efforts to speak the truth and stand for justice are denounced as demonic.
They say there is life after death, that this life matters little in light of eternity, and that we are called to lay down our swords to follow the Prince of Peace, and yet concealed weapons fill our pews while professed followers of the Prince of Peace cling to their guns as if death really is the end and resurrection is a lie.
They say Christ was a poor, humble carpenter with no place to lay his head and to follow him we must be willing to lay down everything we have, and yet they vilify the poor as lazy mooches who refuse to work and have only themselves to blame for their plight in life while they use the happenstance privileges of their birth to urge politicians to pass public policies to punish the poor for being poor while ensuring they have no real way out of a life of poverty.
They say the kingdom of God is open to all regardless of who you are or where you come from because a one-time refugee named Jesus tore apart the temple veil to invite everyone to come and find their seat at the heavenly banquet and yet vilifying immigrants and turning away refugees in the name of “safety” has been a tenet of faith amongst vast swaths of American Christianity.
They say so many things and yet the lives they live stand in such contrast to the way of Jesus, the life of Jesus, the teachings of Jesus, and the criteria by which Jesus said he will decide who gets to join him for eternity.
Which is why I find myself so often wondering these days, if the path really is narrow and not everyone who professes Jesus as Lord will find it, will there any Christians in heaven?
Or least any from the United States?
Hey Zack, thanks for the post. Little feedback: I definitely appreciate the core message of excoriating hypocritical sociocultural and politically motivated evangelicals but your theological conclusion on salvation is worryingly flawed: "the way into heaven wasn’t through magic words at an altar ... but through acts of love and service". Much could be said, but I hope you understand that salvation occurs through faith alone but that faith produces good works. The absence of good works is a 'likely' sign that the faith is dead, impotent, or never existed. Thus we can judge wisely but epistemically humbly. Again, just some of your phrases gave the appearance as if you believe in real ancient religious works that earn you good grace. Hope you don't actually believe that and can take this criticism in good form. Best-