Good morning. I hope this is a wonderful day for you. We are expecting rain—and in the desert southwest where I live, that is always a blessing. The plants, while still alive in the Sonoran Desert, often take on a brownish hue. Everything looks dusty and faint. Then, one good rain and the desert becomes lush, green, and vibrant, with white and yellow flowers blooming everywhere. It resembles what we read today in 1 Corinthians 15–16.
Although I encourage reading all the verses every day and try to tie them all together, today I am going to focus on a subset of them. One of the more popular Christian songs of the last couple of decades, which crossed over into secular audiences as well, was I Can Only Imagine by MercyMe. They even made a movie out of it. The song ponders the question of what our reaction will be when we see heaven, when we see Jesus. Will we even care about anything else, or will we simply fall at His feet?
Recognizability in Heaven
Aside from that question, I have often had people—especially children—ask what we will be like when we are in heaven. After we spend a few thousand years gazing at Jesus, will we look around and see people we recognize? Will we be recognizable? If someone only knew us as a child, will they recognize us as adults, or vice versa? There are people I have only known as older adults after life had beaten them down. I would hope they will be a younger, firmer version of themselves, but if they are, will I know them?
I have been in a wheelchair for much of the last forty years. Will people know me if I walk up to them and say hello? Paul discusses this mystery in 1 Corinthians 15:35–38, and he compares our earthly bodies to seeds that must die before they become something new. We know the disciples recognized Jesus, yet they walked with Him on the road to Emmaus and didn’t realize it was Him until He broke the bread (Luke 24:30–31). This tells me they knew Him from when He provided for them. His body was physical because Thomas touched His hands and side (John 20:27). He picked up fish and ate with the disciples on the beach (John 21:12–13). He was not floating like some ethereal being.
When we look at the story of the rich man in hell gazing at Lazarus leaning on Abraham’s bosom, we know that the rich man recognized Lazarus, whom he had seen begging at the gate. He also recognized Abraham, who had lived long before him (Luke 16:23–24). Recognition seems to be part of the resurrection.
The Mystery of Transformation
Trying to understand all of this is a mystery. God’s ways are higher than our ways (Isaiah 55:9). Faith is not seeing; it is believing when we cannot see (Hebrews 11:1). But I love the image Paul gives us. If I go outside and pick up a handful of dirt, this is what God had to work with when He created us (Genesis 2:7). Plants and animals die and become part of the soil, which makes up dirt. But that death, like when an acorn falls to the ground and becomes part of the forest floor, creates new life. Not a new acorn, but an oak tree. A kernel of corn doesn’t directly make more corn; it gives rise to a plant (1 Corinthians 15:36–37). That plant can produce fruit, some of which will be food, some of which will fall to the ground and become more seed.
Thinking of this soil, look at the walls of a building. Rock and clay made those bricks, and they hold up and protect us inside. Now think of the walls in heaven, described as sardius, emerald, and jasper (Revelation 21:19–20). This is what the bricks are made of. I imagine that is the soil beneath the gold pavement (Revelation 21:21). If spiritual bodies are fashioned together by God in the way our human bodies were, are we made of dust from these gemstones? It is a beautiful thought.
Living Beautifully Now
If we are to spend eternity as something beautiful, why do we choose to be so harsh with each other today? Paul alludes to this when he talks about the opposition he faced in spreading the gospel (1 Corinthians 16:9). God has a reason even for the struggles. They are how we can show the nonbeliever the beauty of the truth.