Meet Kevin. Like many Christians, he read about Heaven; he sang about Heaven, and he dreamed about Heaven.
Then he died.
The following imagines Kevin’s adventures in Heaven, and through these speculations, perhaps Kevin’s still-mortal brothers and sisters can better love God on earth.
Kevin watched — and marveled — as Jesus waved His hand unfurled a 300-foot long screen above the heads of the assembled saints.
Kevin marveled even more when he smelled the popcorn.
Before dying, Kevin assumed people in Heaven wouldn’t — perhaps even couldn’t or shouldn’t — indulge in earth’s simple pleasures, but as Jesus told Kevin shortly after he arrived, God designed mankind in part to enjoy simple pleasures, and God wouldn’t suddenly change His mind just because someone died.
Admittedly, Kevin never tasted popcorn like this on the earth, and even better — he thought — he could share it all and still never run out.
As he took another bite, each one bursting with new flavor, he turned to his friend and hymn writer Philip Bliss and asked, “What will we watch tonight?”
“Jesus didn’t say,” Bliss replied as he finished his latest hymn, “but I’ve heard it features one of the Bible’s great heroes.”
Kevin smiled and closed his eyes, remembering the previous movies. As much as he appreciated the flannelgraphs in Sunday school, they couldn’t compete with this — a screen that either recreated the past or peeked into the past. Kevin could never quite tell.
Regardless, he remembered the rumble when they watched Goliath fall; he remembered the salty smell of the waves crashing against the ark; he remembered the light of the Bethlehem star shimmering on each person’s tears.
Suddenly, Jesus’ tenor voice interrupted his thoughts as He welcomed everyone, and then Jesus asked the guest of honor — the star of tonight’s story — to stand.
Immediately everyone applauded, including Kevin, who prepared to watch the riveting life of Paul, Moses or perhaps Joseph.
But those men applauded from the audience too; they applauded as an unknown saint approached Jesus and hugged Him.
Before Kevin could ask Bliss about this anonymous man, however, the screen exploded with sights and sounds.
Fortunately, Kevin didn’t need to know him to love his story. He laughed; he cried; he held his breath.
And then he gasped as he watched this person cautiously approach a kneeling Saul. Kevin’s eyes widened as he heard this person say, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on the road as you came, has sent me that you may receive your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.”
And then the scales fell from Saul’s eyes, and the audience leapt with applause that put the strongest thunder on earth to shame.
They all applauded and cheered for Ananias, this great hero of the Bible, and by applauding him, they applauded their King.
“So, what did you think?” Jesus asked Kevin several hours later as the two stood on Kevin’s balcony.
“Perfect as always,” Kevin replied, “but I admit I wasn’t expecting Ananias’ story. I assumed we would learn about Paul or Moses …”
“Many people new to Heaven think similarly,” Jesus said as He chuckled, “especially American Christians.
“Even if they don’t intend to, they too easily define greatness by the culture, which too often defines greatness too superficially. They celebrate the celebrities and talk about the talented; they’re enthralled with the entertainers and adore the athletes.
“Children there aspire to become influencers and social media trends; adults drive themselves to do more, make more, be more.
“But I still define greatness by faithfulness, even if people of that world never notice the deed.”
“I suppose we do tend to swoon a little less discerningly than we should,” Kevin said. “In fact, I remember how often Christians rushed to connect a likable celebrity to the faith after that person passed away, as if his or her fame somehow blessed Christianity with more credibility.”
“But you didn’t repent and live for me because of a celebrity, did you?” Jesus asked, a perpetual twinkle in His eye.
“No, I didn’t,” Kevin said as he recalled the anonymous saints in his life, whose simple deeds done in love never earned a headline but still changed the world one day at a time. “I guess I never fully appreciated the Ananiases in the Bible — or my life.
“Thank You for them,” he said, hugging his best friend and the greatest hero of all time.
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