There's lots of room in heaven
Fifth Sunday of Easter, 24th April, 2005
The Rev'd Dr Craig D'Alton
Assistant Priest, St Peter's, Eastern Hill
It's such a familiar gospel for anyone who attends a lot of funerals – "In my Father's house there are many rooms". John 14 is almost obligatory as a last send-off text; words of comfort for those who are left behind; that their loved one is with the Father and all will be well.
Because, after all, we all want to get to heaven, don't we? And we all want those we care for but see no longer to be there in advance to greet us, and we all want those we leave behind to join us in that same place – in the Father's house.
But are we always SURE that it's all going to come together? Have we been good enough? Have our loved ones? Will God let them or us in? How do I know that I am saved? How do I know that my friends are?
Is your heart ever troubled? Do you believe but still fail to feel secure?
If you do, then you're not alone. Most people, however, generally only consider the question of heaven and hell, salvation and damnation, judgement and the Kingdom of God, when the immanence of death – theirs or that of someone they care for – forces the issue.
This was not always so. In the sixteenth-century the Church was torn apart by the question of salvation. Martin Luther famously reminded the Church at large of St Paul's teaching that we are saved not through what we do, but by the grace of God through faith. Various theologions, all of them following Scripture, taught that one attained salvation either by being faithful in performing a series of spiritual works, or by believing that God has given us his grace in full measure, or, more starkly, that we have nothing at all to do with the matter, and that God has predestined us either for salvation or damnation from the very beginning of time. And there were dozens of nuances and variations on each of those three basic teachings.
In today's Australia, of course, we rarely speak of death. Perhaps one of the most remarkable and disturbing elements of contemporary Western approaches to death is that we have made it seem unnatural. The medical prolonging of life beyond all hope of recovery, the way in which many people feel betrayed when a loved one does finally succumb. Death, it seems, is more and more often regarded as someone's fault, rather than as the natural outcome of life. Certainly, it seems to be becoming more and more common for people to greet death, even a completely natural death, with anger: anger at the dead person, anger at doctors, anger at society, anger at self, anger at God.
When people die our hearts are, indeed, perhaps more troubled now than they have ever been.
What comfort, then, is it to know that in Jesus' father's house there are many dwelling places?
I wonder whether the reason for the anger and for the sense that death is always someone's fault, is because as a society, and sometimes even as Christians within it, we have lost sight of the idea that death is completely natural and the expected rite of passage toward the next phase in our journey towards fullness of life in the Kingdom of God. Is it perhaps that we do not trust God, do not trust Jesus, do not have faith that he is indeed saving us? Are our hearts troubled because we fail to believe?
Perhaps. But what can we do about it? Faith is hard enough for those of us in Church every week, let alone for the many, many more Australians for whom Anzac Day is more holy that Easter.
Perhaps the only thing we can do is to read the Scriptures again and tell others the extraordinary good news that they contain. In the Father's house there is a LOT of room, and each of us has a place prepared for us by Jesus. Now that's all very well, you might say, but how do I KNOW? Just like Thomas and Philip there are going to be those times when we are going not to be sure: am I worthy? have I been good enough? does God even know that I'm here? And what of those who do not know or accept Christ? How do they get any comfort if the only way to the Father's house is through the Son?
In answering these questions we need, I think, to get back to Luther, and his idea, taken from St Augustine and St Paul, that we are saved not by what WE do, but by what GOD has done. Jesus is indeed the way, the truth and the life, and no-one comes to the Father except through him. But the reason he is the way, the gate of the sheepfold to quote from last week's Gospel, is because HE has done the work. All we need to do is to say "yes" and walk in. And there are many dwelling places on the other side of the gate, room for all sorts. As is made clear in Jesus's dialogue with Philip on the question of belief, there are some who will be quite well-comprehending of what is going on, there are others who will need great works, signs and wonders, to garner any sort of belief. There are others still for whom belief of any kind is difficult or not even on the radar. Are they to be left outside? I think not. The overwhelming generous act at the centre of God's love is that he made Jesus the way in. And Jesus died not for a select few, but for the sins of the WHOLE world.
I am quite convinced that even those who do not yet know and love him will have a place in the father's house. Now perhaps that might be regarded by some non-Christians as patronising, and perhaps some Christians may be offended by the idea that those who have not battled along the journey of faith might be given such an alarmingly generous and free gift from God. After all, why should those who have only laboured in the vineyard for five minutes receive the same wage as those who have toiled through the heat of the day(?!) Nevertheless, I believe it to be so. In fact it's one of the main reasons why I am a Christian and one of the main reasons why I am a priest. I want to share with others this extraordinary news, and to encourage and welcome them into the Church, not so that they can gain access to salvation, because I think we've all got that already, but so that they can join us in praise and worship. Because this, I believe, is the role of the Church on earth as much as of the Church in heaven – to praise God for his extraordinary goodness; to give thanks for the wonderful thing that he has done in sending Jesus Christ as the saviour of all. This is why we celebrate the eucharist, week-in, week-out, day-in, day-out; not to raise souls from purgatory, but to give thanks to God. This is why worship, not constant self-examination and flagellation, is the central focus of our life together.
So, try not to let your hearts be troubled at the thought of death, or even of judgement. Instead, let us give thanks to God, and let us do all we can to encourage and welcome others into the knowledge of this mystery and into the joy of his praise.
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