Luke 20:27-38 Goodbye, Welcome

For an atheist, there is no afterlife. Death is pure tragedy. It is the end of everything. No matter how wealthy or healthy, how happy or guilty you are, how powerful, or popular, how many friends you have, when death comes – disaster!

Everything is wiped away. We fall into nothingness. So, “carpe diem” – enjoy as much pleasure as you can each day, while you are still alive and kicking!

Most religions however, believe in an afterlife, but they differ in their idea of the next life. Some religions believe in reincarnation, that we keep on coming back in some other persons or animals. It’s just a recycling process until you are made good enough or have suffered enough.

Some believe in a place for the dead. They call it Hades, or Sheol or “somewhere down there.”

And because death is so familiar and yet so mysterious, and we have not experienced what the next life is like, we tend to project our experiences of happiness in this life to the life of the dear departed.

Thus the American Indians believe that the dead are in the “Happy Hunting Ground,” because they love to hunt. Some Orientals offer delicious food, burn gold and silver painted paper for the pocket money of the departed; they burn paper houses, and automobiles (with drivers), or a helicopter, for the enjoyment of the dead.

In speaking of resurrection and of life after death, the Sadducee had used as a starting point their own earthly experience. This was a mistake. In the next life everything is different, and no comparison is possible.

For the Christian, death is a passage, a transition to a more perfect life, a life with God, the Source of all happiness.

Fr. Mark Link tells a story of the twins. One day, a mother conceived twins. One child was a girl, the other a boy. Months passed and they developed. As they grew they sang for joy, “Isn’t it great to be alive!”

Together the twins explored their mother’s womb. When they found their mother’s life cord, they shouted for joy, “How great is our mother’s love, that she shares her life with us!”

Soon the twins began to change drastically. “What does this mean?” asked the boy. “It means that our life in the womb is coming to an end,” said the girl.

“But I don’t want to leave the womb,” said the boy, “I want to stay here forever.”

“We have no choice,” said the girl. “But maybe there is life after birth.”

“How can there be?” asked the boy. “We will shed our mother’s cord, and how is life possible without it? Besides, there’s evidence in the womb that others were here before us, and none of them ever came back to tell us that there is life after birth. No, this is the end.”

And so the boy fell into despair saying, “If life in the womb ends in death, what’s its purpose? What’s its meaning? Maybe we don’t even have a mother. Maybe we made her up just to feel good.”

“But we must have a mother,” said the girl. “How else did we get here? How else do we stay alive?”

And so the last days in the womb were filled with deep questioning and fear. Finally, the moment of birth arrived. When the twins opened their eyes, they cried for joy. What they saw exceeded their wildest dreams.

Just as the twins wondered about life after birth and what it was like, so we sometimes wonder about life after death and what it is like. And just as life after birth exceeded the dreams of the twins, so life after death will exceed our dreams.

In the words of St. Paul, “Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it so much dawned on the human heart what God has prepared for those who love (Him).” (1 Corinthians 2:9)

Perhaps a way to