Week 6: God's Never-Ending Adventure

And so we come to the final chapter of the book, in which Epperly discusses . . . well, the final chapter. It's not exactly a happy thought for the holiday season, but here it is: You are dying. I am dying. We are all, without exception, dying. As one of my seminary professors liked to say, "Last time I checked, the mortality rate was still 100%." We all know this on some logical level, but we still don't usually believe it. We tell ourselves it won't really happen, at least not until some distant day far, far into the future, so we don't need to think about it now. But sooner or later, we do think about it. Maybe we lose a close friend or relative. Maybe we are in a serious car accident or get worrisome news from the doctor. Maybe we just suddenly wake up in the middle of the night with the certainty that death can come for anyone at any time, even us. It shakes us to the core. Death is scary, the ultimate unknown. We've never died before, so how can we know what it's like?

Of course, we have ideas of what it's like. We get them from movies and religious tradition and first-hand accounts of people who have had near-death experiences. There is a bright light at the end of a tunnel. Or there are dead loved ones offering welcome and reassurance. Or there is singing so beautiful it can only be angels. Or there is a fiery pit where demons torment evildoers forever. These and other ideas of death and what lies beyond are embedded in our cultural memory. In the final chapter of his book, Holy Adventure, Bruce Epperly offers a different view on this subject, as he has on so many others during our journey together. I quote a rather lenghty passage here, because it is a good summation of his thinking on the afterlife and because it stands in such contrast to traditional thinking.

"For many persons, the vision of eternal life can be threatening as well as reassuring. Dualistic images of the afterlife suggest a separation of the sheep from the goats and the saved from the unsaved. In this dualistically divided universe, only certain humans can achieve their purpose in this life and the next. Others are not only lost eternally but also are condemned to utter darkness and meaninglessness. Such dualistic theology suggests that death is stronger than God! According to such a view, at the hour of death, God is rendered powerless -- a victim, if you will, of God's own abstract justice, which ultimately proves itself stronger than God's love for creation. Stated another way, such dualistic theology asserts that God's attitude toward you immediately changes at the moment of your death. Though eternity lies ahead for you, if you have not chosen Christ as your Savior in the right way, your fate is sealed, and there is nothing God will or can do about it. From this perspective, God's love is finite, limited, and conditional.

In contrast, an adventurous and holistic spirituality affirms that God's never-ending holy adventure is dynamic and life-transforming. Creativity, relationship, and transformation continue beyond the grave. At death, God welcomes all things into an everlasting community of love and healing with the promise that unexpected adventures of growth and creativity lie ahead. Within God's realm both sheep and goats find a home." (pg. 179)

How does this strike you? Is it difficult for you to reconcile his thinking with scriptures like Matthew 25:31-46, in which Jesus tells the story of the sheep and goats to which Epperly refers? Or do you believe with Epperly that in the end God welcomes all things home? For Epperly, both in this life and the next, community is key. "At the moment of our death, our personal identities are not lost but cherished in an adventurous community in which God's presence and passion for wholeness is unfettered. In this loving community, the 'lived omnipresence,' which only occasionally characterizes our everyday experience, will become our daily delight." (pg. 181) I got chills reading that last part, because I desperately long for the occasional awe-inspiring "brush with God" to become the norm. Every time I have one of those divine encounters, it lasts only long enough for me to wish that I could live forever in that moment, and then it's gone. As a song I once heard put it, "We breathe you in, then we exhale." No matter how much I want to, I can't hold my breath forever. So when Epperly writes that maybe that actually is what "forever" will be like, I find that a deeply comforting possibility. I suspect that I am not alone in this.

As a hospital chaplain, I have had the sacred privilege of being present with many people as they took their final breaths, passing from life through death to whatever lies beyond. Each time has been different, but every time I have felt that I was in the presence of the holy, and it was a sense of peace, not of fear. I have no way of knowing for sure what those who died were feeling, but those who did show signs of lucid thought and feeling in their last moments never seemed afraid. Their dying seemed much easier for them than for those they left behind. Grief is never easy. The loss of someone we care about is inevitably painful, and we often wonder how we could have been a better spouse/child/friend/parent/sibling, etc. to that person now that we have no more time with her or him. This is a universal phenomenon, and sometimes the only comfort in our grief is that we are not alone. Everyone around us has experienced or will experience a significant loss, and as Epperly reminds us, God is also intimately familiar with loss. I believe it is because of the Incarnation that God is able to empathize so completely with us, and I take great comfort in that. "God is 'a fellow sufferer who understands,' as philosopher Alfred North Whitehead asserts. God feels our pain, anguish, and guilt. God knows the good we failed to do and the pain we inflicted. God embraces our lives in their totality and calls us to experience healing in the midst of our pain. We can grieve with hope because God is not finished with our lives or the lives of those we love. Despite our pain and doubt, we can trust that God has a vision of wholeness for us and our beloved." (Pg. 189) Even after death, God is not through with us.

How God's continuing plan/dream for us and all of creation continues to play out after we die is a question I will not presume to answer. As we discussed in class, when it comes to so many things about God, we have to confess that we just don't know. Epperly believes this is exactly the right answer, and helps us avoid some very dangerous pitfalls. "A sense of God's deep mystery provides the antidote for too much certainty about subjects such as the afterlife. Too much certainty perpetrates violence upon persons and belief systems alike. It can lead to exclusion, objectification, and spiritual abuse in faith communities; intellectual abuse in academics; and emotional abuse in relationships. When we think we have all truth, we create artificial boundaries between companions and outsiders, saved and unsaved, orthodoxy and heresy. Those outside our religious camp can become the objects of spiritual warfare and violence when we assert that to become one of 'us,' others must forsake their deepest insights and understandings of the holy and unconditionally accept ours. We may even threaten anyone who does not hold our views with the ultimate act of spiritual and ideological violence: eternal damnation and alienation from God." (pg. 193) We do not have to look far to see his logic. The proof is all around us, played out in churches as well as on battlefields.

Those opposed to Epperly's paradigm of universalism often argue that it gives people license to do whatever they wish here on earth, that our actions have no eternal consequences and don't really matter. The author disagrees, however. He does have a place in his theology for divine judgment and wrath; he just understands them differently than what many of us are used to hearing. "Ultimately, the image of God's 'wrath,' so beloved in certain Christian circles, is not about divine destructiveness and violence but rather about God's opposition to all that stands in the way of justice and wholeness. Thus, there is no contradiction between the ideas of divine justice and universal salvation. . . Divine justice asks, 'What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?' God also asks, 'How are you contributing to the beauty and well-being of the earth and its inhabitants? How well are you practicing justice, loving mercy, and hearing the cries of the poor?' If this life is a process of spiritual evolution and transformation, you can only imagine the beauty and wonder of God's loving community in which Christ will bring wholeness to all things. . . Every creature will experience its true relationship with God, and in that experience each will claim her or his vocation as God's beloved child." (pg. 197)

I'm content to answer, "I don't know," when faced with questions about the afterlife, but I hope that Epperly gets some of it right. I hope he's right about a lot of things as I look back over the six chapters of Holy Adventure. I hope that God doesn't have everything planned. I hope that we are co-creators in shaping the world of which God dreams. I hope that God loves it when we improvise. I hope that God's redemption dream for the world includes dogs and live oaks and butterflies and jellyfish and daisies and lots of other creatures, not just people. I hope that the reality present in Christ inspires the wisdom of all the world's faith traditions and we are all on this holy adventure together. I hope that our lives are a blessing to God. I hope that we are so interconnected that there is no "other," and that we will all one day realize that. I hope that we and our choices matter. I hope that God hears the wordless longings of all creatures as prayer. I hope that we will all live forever in a loving community where God's unhindered presence is our everyday reality. I hope for so many things. And this is a good time of year for that, isn't it? One of the themes of this season of Advent is hope.

I hope that these blogs have been worthwhile. I don't know how many people actually read them, but for those who did read and comment, thank you. Being part of this discussion has been one of the things that fed my soul recently. If you can't tell, I very much enjoyed Epperly's book, and if you haven't already read it, I would encourage you to do so. Look for it at your local library (though I don't know how many have it), or buy it here. As always, here are some daily affirmations to take with you on your journey.

My life is an eternal gift to God.

My loving actions bring joy to (a particular person) in this life and the next.

Nothing can separate me from the love of God.

God gives me strength to face today's challenges.

I embrace my sorrow, knowing that God is with me.

I can respond to (a particular loss) with God as my companion.

I trust God with life's mysteries.

I journey into the unknown with God as my companion and guide.

I am in God's hands this day and forevermore.

God's love embraces all things eternally, even (a difficult person or enemy of our nation).

I have an important role in God's everlasting adventure.

God has given me all the resources I need to be God's companion in healing the world.

And finally, here are the last few questions to think about and comment on, before we go our separate ways on this adventure.

• What is your vision of life after death?


• What do you fear most about dying? How does your faith shape your response to dying? When and where have you experienced God's love being stronger than death?


• Do you believe that persons receive rewards or punishments in the afterlife? Do our present lives make any difference in the nature of our afterlife?


• What is your opinion about the doctrine of hell? How do you balance God's love and justice in your own life and in the lives of others?


• What is the greatest insight you have received during this adventure together? How has it changed your life?


• What commitments to your spiritual growth do you intend to make in the future? What practices do you intend to continue in order to nurture your spiritual growth?

It has been a great ride. One member of the class wrote me a wonderful note about the book's impact. "I walked up stairs, turned corners, and opened doors I didn't even know existed. Thank you," the class member wrote. I would say much the same thing to Mr. Epperly if I could. His book has left its mark on me, and I mean that in the best possible sense. I hope that some of what you have read here will stay with you, as we continue the journey on which our traveling companion is God, and for which we draw our own map, together.