[10/29/19]
I will simply note in passing the curious timing that brings me to be considering the subject of dead souls in this season known more properly for All Saints Day. That day, a day to honor the memories of those who have gone before us into glory, has been so perverted by common practice as to leave out all memory of glory whatsoever, and to revel in corruption. A glance around the neighborhood shows the state of things. What seemed in childhood a harmless bit of amusement has developed into something of a celebration of the macabre. In times past, I have to admit I have been somewhat of two minds as regards participating in the costumery and giving out of candies to little ones. But, I cannot help noticing the shade of things as they have developed over the years. I don’t recall the lawn ornaments and lights and such as a youth. No, there was the gathering at the grange, and maybe a bit of door-to-door parading in search of treats, but that was about it. There was, to my recollection, none of this planting of grave stones and skeletons in the yard, hanging ghosts and spiders from the eaves, and so on. And the light displays are just gaudy imitation and extension of the travesty made of Christmas long since.
But, come back to the original point, and it’s not so terrible a day. It is a day of remembrance. Many a saint has lived a godly life and gone to their grave at peace with God and full of days. They have, as Paul would say, fought the good fight. They have finished well. They have earned their rest and now await the day of our Lord’s returning. What is happening in that interim period I am not inclined to speculate at this juncture. The point is that as concerns their physical presence in the world, there is at most some skeletal remain, devoid of life entirely. Yet, life goes on. Life goes on in the spirit and soul of that departed saint. This, I grant, is something that many in the present day would discount as fantastic nonsense. Dead is dead, they would counsel, and we religious anachronisms need to learn to deal with that simple fact.
Of course, we religious anachronisms are inclined to make a similar, if opposite declaration. We take it from the book of Hebrews. “It is appointed for men to die once and after this comes judgment” (Heb 9:27). Combine this with that statement regarding Satan’s end, and that of his minions and followers, and one gets a scene set that outdoes all the seasonal decorations I have just been discussing. “Death and Hades were thrown into the lake of fire. This is the second death, the lake of fire. And if anyone’s name was not found written in the book of life, he was thrown into the lake of fire” (Rev 20:14-15). There is the simple fact with which one must needs learn to deal. The grave is not the end, but only a transition point. Life continues, if not in bodily form. And for purpose of this discussion, I shall include that post-resurrection portion of life which does in fact appear to involve a body of some sort, though not of the same nature as the one we possess at present (1Co 15). While it is a body, let us accept that it is a body of a spiritual nature, with capacities and qualities far different than that in which we are presently clothed.
What evidence do we have to offer for such an idea, one might ask? It’s a reasonable question, and given acceptance of the Bible as evidence, it is one with an answer. I have to say that this answer is one that faced a degree of skepticism even in Jesus’ day, and even from the religious leaders of that day. The Sadducees were disinclined to believe in the continuation of life beyond the grave, which might lead one to wonder what they saw in religion at all, other than an avenue to power. Be that as it may, we read of their fine challenge to Jesus’ knowledge, posing the question of that one who had died the wife of seven brothers, each having been wed to her in turn according to the tenets of levirate marriage. If there was an afterlife, they reasoned, this would be one huge tangle of a relationship to sort out. Clearly, given this kind of mess, there must be no afterlife, they reasoned. So they put it to Jesus. “In the resurrection therefore whose wife of the seven shall she be? For they all had her” (Mt 22:28). But Jesus, in response, points up their ignorance of the very religion they purported to lead. “You are mistaken, not understanding the Scriptures, or the power of God” (Mt 22:29). But, He doesn’t simply denounce them. He corrects them. “For in the resurrection they neither marry, nor are given in marriage, but are like angels in heaven” (Mt 22:30).
Now, had He stopped there, He would have already answered their question and countered their argument. But, they would have found no satisfaction in this, and those who observed the discussion would find insufficient cause to accept the word of Jesus over the views of the Sadducees. It would have remained a matter of philosophical debate, with two opposing views presented and none particularly compelling. But, He continues. “But regarding the resurrection of the dead, have you not read that which was spoken to you by God, saying, ‘I AM the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob’? He is not the God of the dead but of the living” (Mt 22:31-32). The Sadducees may not have been convinced, but the crowds were. Even the Pharisees found some cause for respect, albeit respect of an enemy, as they saw it.
Notice the emphasis of that argument. In this instance, the “I am” is not an appeal to God’s self-existent being, but rather an observation of the present tense. It is an argument wholly built on semantics. God did not say He was the God of Abraham back when Abraham had a God. No, He IS presently, to this day and into eternity the God of Abraham. God being the God of the living, the clear implication is that Abraham, though long centuries in the grave, is very much alive and well. “Your father Abraham rejoiced to see My day, and he saw it and was glad” (Jn 8:56). None too surprisingly, this didn’t sit well with those who set themselves to argue with Jesus. “You’re not even fifty yet, and You claim You’ve seen Abraham?” Of course, that’s not what He claimed, true though it was. He claimed Abraham had seen His day. But, since they brought it up… “Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was born, I AM” (Jn 8:57-58).
Okay, so let me observe a few points here. First, in this instance, Jesus actually is making appeal to the eternal self-existent being of God, and that appeal is personal. Yes. I AM. I am I AM. There’s not the least doubt that those listening understood exactly what He had just claimed. Their urge to stone Him makes that crystal clear. But, I want to look at something else about this encounter, and that is the misdirection contained in their response. Again, the claim they insist He just made is not the claim He had just made. The claim He had made did, to be certain, include claims to divinity, but that’s not what they question. Indeed, I think part of the reason He makes it explicit in His response, rather than correcting their question, is because they missed it. I would argue they rather intentionally missed it. What Jesus actually said was that Abraham saw His day. The power of that claim is simply this: Abraham still is. He still has being. He is not just a memory and a tale told to children to introduce them to Jewish life and faith. He is not just a symbolic figurehead upon which a rather downtrodden people can hang their sense of self-worth. He is.
We, today, who account ourselves true sons of Abraham by faith do well to recall that self-same fact. He still is. Indeed, all who have gone before us still are. There is in fact a rather heavily populated spirit-world around us, unseen and for the most part unfelt. This is not cause for excess curiosity on our part. This is not excuse for the present-day fascination with contacting those who have died. That fascination, in fairness, is nothing new. It has always been something of an industry for a certain sort of people, but it has been an industry against which God pronounces clear prohibition.
We could look at the records of that law and pull out chapter and verse to observe the prohibition laid out, and that would be perhaps worthwhile, but I prefer in this case to turn to the well-known example of that law’s violation as we have it in the historical record of Israel’s kings. It comes about with the first of those kings, King Saul. Saul had been a rather poor start to the royal dynasty of Israel, but that was by God’s design, and as an example to the people of God. The example was, put simply, “Don’t judge by appearances. Appearances deceive.” Judge, rather, by God’s will and purpose. Saul seemed a mighty man, and looked the part of a king. But, he was weak in the face of trial, when it came to critical junctures along the course of his reign.
For a season he could appear strong, but in fact the strength of Saul was found in two who stood beside him; Samuel the prophet, and David the shepherd. With Samuel to keep dragging Saul back to the correct path, and David leading the fight against Israel’s enemies, Saul could continue to put up a good image of what a king was supposed to look like. But, eventually Samuel was taken away from him. “Now Samuel was dead, and all Israel had lamented him and buried him in Ramah his own city. And Saul had removed from the land those who were mediums and spiritists” (1Sa 28:3). This was actually a good thing Saul had done, albeit no doubt at the urging and direction of Samuel. Samuel was, for all intents and purposes, Saul’s moral backbone. That backbone was now in the grave, and the loss of it would soon show. The Philistines were coming, and Saul no longer had this visible man of God on whom to lean. Neither was the LORD answering, ‘either by dreams or by Urim or by prophets’ (1Sa 28:6). What to do? Saul struck upon an idea. “Seek for me a woman who is a medium, that I may go to her and inquire of her.” And his servants knew of such a one. “There is a woman who is a medium at En-dor” (1Sa 28:7).
Okay, stop for just a moment. What sort of servants, knowing the king had decreed the removal of such from the land, knew of one remaining and said nothing of it previously? What does this say of Saul’s leadership, or of those he led? At any rate, he goes to this woman and requests that she ‘conjure up’ Samuel. The woman is a tad leery, as one might expect, but she accepts the request, but when Samuel, whom you may recall is dead and in the grave, shows up, this medium, presumably familiar enough with the dead coming for a visit, loses it. If this is Samuel, she finally figures out, you must be Saul! Saul, who has placed a death sentence on those who do what I am doing for him. Oops. But, Saul, having been divested of moral backbone and moral compass alike, tells her not to worry, just tell him what she sees. Her answer: “I see a divine being coming up out of the earth” (1Sa 28:13). Soon enough it was apparent that said being was in fact the spirit of Samuel – a very alive spirit of Samuel in spite of the lack of physical body. His initial greeting is hardly friendly. “Why have you disturbed me by bringing me up?” (1Sa 28:15), but Saul plows ahead. What should I do, Samuel? God’s not telling me, so I called you. But, Samuel, while having come in response to a rather illicit summons, is not one to act against God’s will. “Why ask me, since the LORD has departed from you and has become your adversary? And the LORD has done accordingly as He spoke through me; for the LORD has torn the kingdom out of your hand and given it to your neighbor, to David. As you did not obey the LORD and did not execute His fierce wrath on Amalek, so the LORD has done this thing to you this day. Moreover the LORD will also give over Israel along with you into the hands of the Philistines, therefore tomorrow you and your sons will be with me. Indeed the LORD will give over the army of Israel into the hands of the Philistines!” (1Sa 28:16-19).
Okay, that’s a fairly lengthy visit with the narrative, but note: This decision in regard to the coming battle with the Philistines was not in response to Saul visiting the medium. That was but a final symptom in a longstanding sin-sickness. Samuel had already, you see, told him that his failure to heed or even really much consider God had led to a planned regime-change, one coming about not by the hand of man, but by the hand of God. The people with Saul, it must be presumed, were facing punishment for their own sins, not least the sin of seeking to throw of God in favor of ‘a king like those of the nations around us’.
But, for our present purpose, there’s a twofold point to visiting this scene, perhaps threefold. The first point is simply this: Samuel is very much alive even though very much dead. He has been buried some time now. The period of mourning for this great spiritual leader in Israel has come and gone. The body, what remains of it, is moldering in the grave, and not even, so far as I know, anywhere near the scene in En-dor. Life continues beyond the failure of the physical plant.
Second point: This willingness to consult with the dead is contrary to holiness. The fascination with ghosts and apparitions and zombies and who knows what else in the present day is not a sign of spiritual health, but rather of deepening spiritual sickness. It is something of an evidence for the old dictum laid out by C. S. Lewis, that those who won’t believe in God will in fact believe in anything. Indeed, there is something of a blind, hate-driven determination to find anything else to believe in that will alleviate the need to acknowledge the God Who Is. We would rather a death this is pure oblivion and the end of all being. We would prefer that nihilistic view of things to having to face a perfectly holy God, having ignored Him or rebelled against Him outright throughout life. We would rather we could have our happy chats with our dead relatives, even if they be in hell, even if those contacts are in fact with lying spirits and not with our relatives at all. Why? Because such chats demand nothing of us. We can go on with our sin-sick life unbothered. We have this false comfort of something enjoyable awaiting beyond the grave, without the responsibility inherent in facing a perfectly holy, all-knowing, utterly just God when the time comes.
Third point: Per Samuel’s pronouncement, the place of the dead is effectively one and the same, whether heaven-bound or hell-bound in the final assessment. If he had said simply that Saul’s sons would be with him that day, I might assess it otherwise, for Jonathan at least seems to have been okay. But, Saul himself is included; Saul whom God has rejected. I suppose there’s an outside chance of a grave-side conversion, as it were, except of course that Saul chose death by suicide for all intents and purposes, and this, too, is rejected by the law of holiness. But, we really have no cause to suppose Saul forgiven and heaven bound in the final accounting. It’s not 100% ruled out, but it sure seems highly unlikely. Given that, Samuel’s ‘with me’ is interesting, at the very least. Perhaps he means to indicate nothing more than death, the separation of soul and body. But perhaps he also means to indicate that in the realm of the dead, all are pretty much equal.
[10/30/19]
Another significant example we have of the life of man extending beyond the grave is found in the accounts of Jesus’ transfiguration atop the mountain. As Peter, James, and John looked on, Jesus revealed in some greater degree His true being. “His face shone like the sun, and His garments became as white as light” (Mt 17:2b). The significance is that His true glory was breaking through the earthly shroud. Jesus, though truly present in truly human form, yet remained truly and fully God. That hadn’t ceased to be the case, nor could it. He either is and always was God, or He isn’t and never was. Those are the only two possibilities. Here was proof that it is the first case which applies. But, we are here to witness the two who joined Him and His three closest apostles on this occasion. “And behold, Moses and Elijah appeared to them, talking with Him” (Mt 17:3, Mk 9:4, Lk 9:30).
It seems to me a reasonable question to ask how it was that these men were recognized and identified by the apostles, for it’s not as though these three had ever met Moses or Elijah, or seen pictures of them. I can think of three possibilities off the top of my head. The first is that they asked Jesus, but the question and its answer didn’t make it into the final account. That’s certainly possible, although Peter’s reaction seems a bit too ready and immediate for there to have been some discussion involved. It comes, at least as the accounts of these things go, before they’ve really had a chance to absorb the significance of what just happened. So, a second possibility: It could be that Moses and Elijah appeared with forms that somehow made it obvious who they were. Perhaps, for example, Moses had in hand the staff that had marked his leadership of Israel, and Elijah had his crude robe and belt. But, even these seem too trivial and common to singularly identify a pair of strangers on a mountaintop. Now, it could be, given that these three were talking, that Jesus called them by name. That would certainly do it. It’s interesting that nothing of the conversation held on that mountaintop is conveyed to us, only the visuals.
Something about this was powerful enough that Peter thought maybe he had three divine beings up here, and had best build a tabernacle for each. But, let me be careful about this. Peter’s not talking about constructing altars, but building tents. I could readily accept that what is indicated here is his total failure to grasp what was going on, and who could blame him? This was utterly unreal, so far as experience could inform him. So, it’s possible he just figured everybody was going to be staying the night up there on the mountain, and shelter for the guests of his Lord as well as his Lord would be in order. But, this is Peter who has recognized, at least to some degree, just Who it is he’s been following. “You are the Son of God.” Yes, Peter, and it was the Holy Spirit who made this known to you.
That brings me to my final suggestion as to how it is they knew who was there with Jesus, and that is that the same Holy Spirit who had informed Peter as to the true Personage of Jesus, and who revealed to the Apostles the truth of His words, on this occasion revealed to them who it was that they were witnessing in conference with Jesus. However it was that they came to know this, they knew. And what they knew was that two men, at least one of whom had died, were now very much alive and present.
Here was proof most conclusive, at least for them, that God is indeed the God of the living. Elijah, of course, had been taken up to heaven direct, without the intermediate disposition of his physical body. To be clear, if we are to have a consistent view of what happens to a man that fits him for heaven, Elijah’s direct route will need to have conformed to that which Paul tells us in regard to the final transformation of man. The current body is insufficient to the needs of heavenly existence. It is, if nothing else, impermanent, and cannot withstand an eternal being. It wears out, as we know all too well, and replacement parts are pretty much impossible to come by. Yet, here was Elijah, not, as I say, in his unmodified earthly body, but very much bodily present, and this would have been several hundred years after his being taken up into heaven. The bones of the kings who followed after his time were by now little more than dust wherever it was that kings had been buried. The bones of the prophets were no more substantial. Something had changed in Elijah, but not so much that he was not still Elijah. The personhood hadn’t changed, only the container. And that, as I say, had to have changed as Elisha watched him taken up.
As to Moses, he is another whose departure is somewhat unique. Yet, we are not given to suppose that he was taken up in like fashion to Elijah. I think if that had been the case we would have been told. Rather, his death is identified as death. “Moses was one hundred and twenty years old when he died” (Dt 34:7a). “Moses the servant of the LORD died there in the land of Moab, according to the word of the LORD” (Dt 34:5). You see, God had made some declarations in regard to Israel for their failure to trust and obey Him in all things. They had failed in taking themselves into the Promised Land at the outset of their journey because they feared the residents of that land more than the God who stood with them in pillar of flame and fire. This is stunning, is it not? One wonders at the blindness that could lead them to such a conclusion. He had just wiped out the armies of Egypt with what was effectively the flick of His finger, and they’re worried about these guys? But, they were. And in response to their unbelief, God determined that none of that generation beyond Joshua and Caleb, who had counseled God’s counsel, would set foot in the land. That decree, of necessity, included Moses. Moses, we might think, had done no wrong at that juncture. But, he had. He allowed the choice of the people to overrule the command of God. As God’s representative to the people, what did this say of his God? It was not good. He further took matters into his own hands when faced with their grumbling later on, using the tools God gave him without authorization. He, too, demonstrated a failure to trust this God who was with him, so it was determined that he would not be with Israel when that next generation finally made their entrance.
He died. Pure and simple, with nobody, so far as we know, to witness where and how. But, he was an old man. It’s quite likely, I should think, that he died after the fashion we hear of so often in connection with native tribes. The old simply take themselves away and sit down and die. End of story; no strife, no fuss. They’re just done. However it was that Moses died, though, the fact was established. He was dead. If there remained doubt, God made it clear to Joshua. “Moses My servant is dead. Now therefore arise, cross this Jordan, you and all this people, to the land which I am giving to them, to the sons of Israel” (Josh 1:2). Yet, here he is, at long last standing, if only for this briefest of moments, in the Promised Land in the company of his Lord.
Again, it is quite clear that he is not here in the same body in which he died. That body, though at the time of his death, ‘his eye was not dim, nor his vigor abated’ (Dt 34:7b), was done. The skin had long since decayed, the bones picked clean, and like the kings, fully decomposed so that to dust he had returned. But here he is, standing, talking, no doubt gesticulating; in every way fully functional so many centuries later. This is, then, the spirit body, if I am not much mistaken. Both for Moses and for Elijah, that transformation would seem to have been completed. Or had it? Is it reasonable to think that some select few among the people of God – we could add Enoch in there, I should think, and maybe Melchizedek – were transformed before that great and final day? That seems at least marginally at odds with Paul’s description of events. “Behold, I tell you a mystery; we shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet; for the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. For this perishable must put on the imperishable, and this mortal must put on immortality” (1Co 15:51-53). It cannot be otherwise. But, does this require that all who have died before us await that same moment?
“For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trumpet of God; and the dead in Christ shall rise first. Then we who are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and thus we shall always be with the Lord” (1Th 4:16-17). This, too, would seem to suggest a singular event that encompasses all who ever were. But, I am not so certain that it necessitates such an understanding. Is there anything in this that would preclude God from having chosen a select few to join Him earlier? Would earlier even have significant meaning in eternity? I think I shall have to accept a bit of ambiguity on this topic, but I do think that what we see there on the Mount of Transfiguration is two believers of some renown, standing with their Lord in full resurrection. Let me simply suggest that apart from this, they could not have withstood such proximity to His glory. Granted, Peter, James, and John are not so very far removed themselves, yet they are somewhat farther away, and also, I should think, capable of being guarded, as Moses was, lest they see the full glory of God and perish. Moses and Elijah, however, had already perished in one way or another, and were, if they were talking with Him, presumably face to face with Him in His exposed glory. Something was different in them, even in this post-death state, to allow this to be the case.
Suffice to say that existence continues after that which we think of as death. The body ceases, but the soul, the spirit does not. What transpires for the individual between the point of his physical death and the point of Jesus’ return and the final transformation of his body is not clear. I have offered such speculation as I can see fit to speculate, but the truth is we don’t know. There is an existence of some sort. It may or may not, given the example of Moses and Elijah, include an earlier (again, such as concepts of earlier and later may apply in eternity) transformation, or it may be that the most general case is some sort of bodiless interim of waiting. There’s at least the suggestion of that in some of the scenes of heaven that we find in the Revelation. But, I don’t feel sufficiently informed by all this as to draw firm and certain conclusions.
We will, at some juncture, be in some fashion like the angels, although I don’t expect that includes equipping with wings and the like, and it is not an exact likeness. They, after all, were not made in God’s image, but we are. Why would we suppose our final form would be more like the angels and less like God’s image? It seems to me the most we can read into Jesus’ claim in that regard is the point He was making at the time; that marriage no longer applies. I can think of two reasons for this. The first is spiritual: We arrive as the bride of Christ, and being married to Him could not very well be married to another. But, that, I think, is more than needs to be read into the matter. Rather, I suspect it is simply because in heaven, the full number of the elect are already present, and present for eternity. The primary physical function of marriage is to sanctify the procreative act. If procreation is no longer necessary, to what purpose the sanctifying marriage that provided occasion for it? It seems we can say one thing with certainty: Heaven is not a place of gratuitous sex. Outside of wedlock, that was never the case, and even inside wedlock, we could read the book as informing us that it is primarily a compassion for our weaknesses, a means to allow us our outlet without the burning of sin. This, too, I suspect is more than needs to be read into the matter. The sum is that the lusts of the flesh go the way of the flesh, leaving somebody more pure to continue on.
