Jesus has a new set of critics in this week’s Gospel reading. The Pharisees take a break, and the Sadducees, another group of Jewish religious leaders under Roman authority, are up. They don’t believe in resurrection, though from their question we presume they’re down with an afterlife:
“Teacher, Moses wrote for us that if a man’s brother dies, leaving a wife but no children, the man shall marry the widow and raise up children for his brother. Now there were seven brothers; the first married, and died childless; then the second and the third married her, and so in the same way all seven died childless. Finally the woman also died. In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be?”
Painful as separation is, we might consider it good news that marriage vows are only “till death us do part.” If we had to spend eternity loving one person more than anyone else, I don’t think heaven would be such a lovely place. Nor would a place in which some are preferred and others rejected seem like paradise – more like high school.
Jesus suggests that marriage is for this life, not the next. Actually, what he says is a bit more perplexing than that – “..those who are considered worthy of a place in that age and in the resurrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage.” Is he hinting that Christ followers should all be celibate? Were that the case, the Christian movement would have died out a long time ago (reference the Shaker movement, which held celibacy as a central tenet – they are now known chiefly for their beautiful furniture… )
We can look more deeply at what Jesus said later. Today, let’s explore why we feel a need to project onto eternity the needs and preoccupations of this life. One might think we’d like to be rid of them. Marriage is often as challenging and even painful as it is joyful and fruitful. We might love our jobs, but do we really want to be doing them for all time? We can adore our children, but a healthy love allows them to grow up and away from us.
Seeing heaven as a time and space in which we hit the re-set button on all our priorities might help us live with better spiritual balance in this life. Here, we seem to need filters and priorities, to value one thing more than another, one person better than another. But that can get in the way of allowing God to set our priorities, which is one way of describing spiritual growth. The early Christian desert fathers and mothers made a spiritual virtue of apatheia, a holy equanimity, letting go of our own agendas. Hard to do – but perhaps the way of true freedom in Christ?
When you think of resetting your priorities, what is the first thing that comes to mind?
Dwell on that in prayer for a few minutes - ask God what that's about. Why did that thing or person come up?
Is there any part of your agenda for your life that you sense it might be time to let go of? You might ask the Spirit for the gift of apatheia, or explore it.
I have a feeling God has agenda aplenty for us, once we can get ours out of the way.
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