What Heaven Is Like
At a social gathering in Heaven, you can chat with your grand-mother, with her being a little girl of six and you twenty-five or thirty, or whatever you and she want. At any moment, Our Lady can be a Madonna, with Jesus a baby on her knee, and the same privilege is available to the ancient Irish woman hermit saint whose recorded words told of her longing for that delight: while at the same moment, Jesus, grown up and infinite in all perfection's, is locked in intense discussions with one of us. People who died as children can be met in Heaven as children or encountered as our grown-up friends. Millions of babies, slain in abortion, will in Heaven speak love with their mothers standing as fully grown men and women, by virtue of the presumed baptism of the innocent under the all-saving will of God. If you have had your appendix out, you can now have it back - if you want.
This is elementary extrapolation by analogy from the nature of being that we see around us every day in this world. In Heaven, you can see your friend Bill with or without the shaving scratch he got in 1980. Oliver Cromwell with or without the warts, as you and he choose. Your wife, with any one or none of the hairstyles she has ever sported. As an entity in pure act, the risen body is free to show itself as any one of its innumerable stages of being, the choice of stage being determined by two factors, the needs of the seer and the will of the seen.
rick
|
Linear Mode
