Some years ago two men found themselves waiting together on a park bench. One was a theologian and the other was an astronomer. After exchanging greetings the astronomer said, “You know, I have a very simple theology. God is love.” To which the theologian replied, ” You know, I have a very simple astronomy. Twinkle, Twinkle little star.”
This story came to mind when I heard of theoretical physcist Stephen Hawking's' recent passing. Hawking's life has been an incredible one. He has received every award and accolade possible in the fields of mathematics, theoretical physics, and quantum theory. He has even drawn back the veil for those of us with lesser minds to get a glimpse of his thinking about black holes and singularities, in his book, “A Brief History of Time”. All of this while being confined to a wheel chair, paralyzed by a form of ALS.
Several years ago he announced that “Heaven is a myth.” Simply put, his thinking is that if a person believes there is a Heaven, it is because he wishes for a Heaven, because he fears death. Not a convincing argument. That thinking cuts both ways. It could as easily be concluded that a person who disbelieves in a Heaven, does so because he wishes there were no Heaven, because he fears judgement.
Non-theists have done an effective job of convincing this generation that scientific knowledge is the only knowledge. But let’s not forget the bias that exists in that thinking as well. Aldous Huxley, a humanist and skeptic from a previous generation, admitted that he did not want the world to have an overriding meaning, so as to free him from moral demands of religion.¹ So much for lofty intellectual motives.
How different the “uplook” from a person who has also spent decades in a wheelchair, Joni Eareckson Tada. At sixteen, she was planning on graduation and a career in, ironically enough, physical therapy. She says she made her goal, just from the other side. A diving accident brought her to Christ and a different appraisal of life and eternity:
I rejoice with him whose pain my Saviour heals.
And I weep with him who still his anguish feels.
But earthly joys and earthly tears are confined to earthly years,
And greater good, the Word of God reveals.
In this life we have a cross that we must bear;
It’s just a tiny part of Jesus’ death that we can share.
And one day we’ll lay it down, ’cause He’s promised us a crown
To which our suffering can never be compared.That’s why Heaven is nearer to me, and at times it is all I can see.
Sweet music I hear, coming down to my ear,
And I know that it’s playing for me.
For I am Christ the Saviour’s own bride,
And redeemed I shall stand by His side.
He will say, “Shall we dance?” and our endless romance
Will be worth all the tears I have cried.²
¹ Quoted in Ravi Zacharias: The End of Reason (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2008), p. 61
² Joni and Friends Website
