For Deji, Yemisi, and the insightful conversations after church

We will have no lack of reasons to be joyful when we get to the city of God, that better country (Heb. 11:16) called heaven. We will get to reunite with our friends and family in the faith who left the world before us. There will be Elijah, Isaiah, Paul, and a host of other old saints with whom, I believe, we will have very extensive chats. “Tell us”, we will say to Elijah, “about the chariot of fire experience.” The architecture of heaven and the mansions Jesus talked of (John 14:2) will be the subject of many a discussion. But all of these will not be half as thrilling as being in the very presence of God—Father, Son and Spirit. What a day of rejoicing it will be! 

But let’s admit it, brethren, for how long exactly can we be dazzled by the beauty of heaven? And can we chat forever? Will we not definitely arrive at that point where there’s nothing new to say? When our tales shall have come to an end, and the joy of reuniting with our friends and family shall have begun to wane, what shall we do? Sit and stare into each other’s faces for the rest of eternity? Depend on it: this is the very definition of boredom.  

Add to this the fact that many of the things that are the source of excitement on earth will be missing in heaven. No Netflix, no social media, no sex, no marriage, no sleep, no rest, no knowledge acquisition, no library, no fiction, no poems, no nothing. There will not even be food. Not that the resurrection body cannot eat (Luke 24:42)… but what’s the excitement in eating when you’re not getting hungry? Also, as my friend once disappointedly pointed out to me, it looks like the only available food will be bread (Psalm 78:25).  

Plus, there will be no competition in heaven. Why is this a problem? Because, friends, much of life’s excitement is engendered (even when we do not realize it) by competitiveness. We are not wont to be as excited about things we share with everyone else as we are about things we have/ do better than others. We’re more excited if we are more beautiful than others, have more money than others, write better than others, dance more gracefully than others. We prefer to have unique skills, unique abilities, so that we can stand out. Our idea of excellence is contingent on competition and comparison. As Solomon reminds us, “people are motivated to success because they envy their neighbours” (Eccl. 4:4, NLT). So, imagine being in a place (for eternity) where the basis for competition is absent.  You see, the Bible describes heaven as a place of perfection. There will be no sin, no strife, no sorrow, no challenges, for God will wipe away every tear (Rev. 21:14). But if you think about it, this is not as exciting as it seems.

You see, the Bible describes heaven as a place of perfection. There will be no sin, no strife, no sorrow, no challenges, for God will wipe away every tear (Rev. 21:14). But if you think about it, this is not as exciting as it seems.  

Two issues spring from this notion of perfection. The first is the issue of the challenges of life: the truth is that life on earth is interesting in part because there are always challenges to overcome. Life, my lecturer once said, is a series of problem solving. The pleasure we derive from life is also proportional to the pain of life. We treasure health because we know what it means to be sick. Mothers love their children because they understand the pain of childbirth. We’re excited about getting jobs because we know what it means to be unemployed. Getting an A in an exam is meaningful because of the reality of failure. Rest feels refreshing only because of labour.  

The second issue is that of (un)predictability. Apart from the need to overcome challenges, life is also interesting because it is largely unpredictable. As Oscar Wilde said, “the very essence of romance is uncertainty.” He meant this with regards to marriage proposals. If you were going to propose to a lady and you knew beforehand for a certainty that she would eagerly accept it, it wouldn’t be that interesting, would it? I think it’s the same for life in general. If we already knew from the time we were born what we would do every single day of the rest of our lives, I suppose existence would be truly tedious. Or? It is also because of this uncertainty that hope becomes a necessity. But everything in heaven seems like it will not only be perfect but also pre-programmed. There will, therefore, be no need for hope, because who hopes for what they already have (Rom. 8:24)? 

“But”, an objector might question, “shall we not be worshipping our God together with the angels, elders and living creatures? And should that not bring us eternal joy?” Indeed, it should. But, again, should that not also amount to spiritual ennui? Worshipping day and night? No variation? No spontaneity? Just this endless cycle? And not just for a week or month, but forever? What, wouldn’t even God get fed up? 

First of all, the question of whether or not heaven will be boring arises (in the first place) only when we think of it from a human perspective... To restate the point, our new nature in heaven will necessitate radically different sources of pleasure.

In this article, I want to give three reasons why these questions, although valid, are baseless. First of all, the question of whether or not heaven will be boring arises (in the first place) only when we think of it from a human perspective. Of course, for a fish, living on land is suicide—assuming that the fish retained its aquatic nature. But what if the very nature of the fish, which made it feel at home in water, were transmogrified to resemble that of terrestrial animals’? The question of survival on land would be unnecessary. It is so with us. At the resurrection (or translation), when we see Jesus, we will become like him (1 John 3:2). Corruptible will put on incorruptible (1 Cor. 15:53). Our new beings—along with their desires—will be a radical transformation from the beings we are now. Those things over which we clamour today will be painfully derisory to bring us pleasure then.  

Let me linger on this point a little more. What I mean, is that the pleasures we enjoy are as a consequence of our nature rather than because of the inherent pleasurableness of these sources of pleasure. Lions do not share goats’ excitement about grass, just as human beings do not share leopards’ enthusiasm towards eating raw meat. The difference lies in the nature of goats, of lions, of human beings. There is something in human beings that finds sex pleasurable, that finds food enjoyable, that finds sleep restful, that enjoys video games. Without that something, even when there is an overabundance of these “pleasures”, we will be unresponsive.  

There is nothing mythical about this. Even in human experience, the sources of our pleasure change as we grow. It is not often that children and adults share the same pleasures. You will recall that when David was returning to Jerusalem, he said to Barzillai, “Cross over with me in Jerusalem, and I will provide for you” (2 Sam. 19:33). Listen to the old man’s response: 

I am eighty years old today, and I can no longer enjoy [emphasis mine] anything. Food and wine are no longer tasty, and I cannot hear the singers as they sing…But here is your servant…[the young man] Kimham. Let him go with my lord the king and receive whatever you want to give him (2 Samuel 19:34-37, abridged). 

Old age had caught up with Barzillai and the things that would have brought him pleasure decades before had ceased to have that effect on him. Nothing had happened to the food and wine, but something had happened to him. Barzillai wanted Kimham to go with the king because these same things which were no longer pleasurable to Barzillai (because he was now old) would bring pleasure to Kimham, who was still young. Solomon lends credence to this point when in Ecclesiastes 12:1 he talks of the days of trouble, when we find no pleasure in things that once made our hearts palpitate with joy (Eccl. 12:1). To restate the point, our new nature in heaven will necessitate radically different sources of pleasure. 

The second point builds on the first. Who is it that plants this something inside human beings to be able to enjoy work, marriage, wealth, excellence, music, sex, sleep, food, to enjoy a good novel? God, certainly! Have you forgotten what Solomon says about God giving us the ability to enjoy wealth (Eccl. 5:19)? The capacity to enjoy is a gift from God. If so, even our acknowledgement of the reality of boredom springs from God’s gift of enjoyment. In other words, if God had not first given us the ability to enjoy, we wouldn’t have even known what boredom is, to begin with. If this reasoning makes sense, then fearing that heaven would be boring is like fearing to die of thirst if you leave your bottle of water at home to live in the water company.  

Every pleasure enjoyable on earth is traceable to God. Is it not God who gave man work in the Garden of Eden? Also, Adam did not realize he was lonely. It was God who said aloneness wasn’t good (Genesis 2:18). In fact, even the pleasures of sin are essentially a distortion of God’s idea of pleasure. The pleasure that comes from gluttony is because God gave us the ability to enjoy food. The pleasure that comes from fornication is because God gave us the gift of marital sex. The pleasure from stealing is because God gave us the ability to enjoy possessions. This is true of every other sinful pleasure you can imagine. 

To imagine that heaven would be boring amounts to a slanderous defamation of the character of God.

I hope these points make some sense. But assuming they are not convincing enough, I will still marshal my strongest argument. To imagine that heaven would be boring amounts to a slanderous defamation of the character of God. What? Do we imagine the God of heaven, the sovereign ruler of the universe, who designed and created the universe out of nothing, as boring? Search the Scriptures and see how the seemingly disjointed stories in the Old Testament find perfect fulfilment in Christ, despite the vast difference in time and authors. Who but an exceptionally creative being could have orchestrated such a thing? Does the Holy Spirit, who works different gifts in different ways in different people, strike you as boring? Why, the very idea of our salvation; the death of Jesus, and what it represents spiritually; and even our spiritual union with Christ through baptism bears witness to the ingenious character of God. How can the God who is himself the source of all human creativity—nay, who even defines the limits of human creativity—be boring?  

We may not understand the details yet, which is fine. But heaven cannot be boring for the simple reason that we will be in the very presence of the one who is the greatest and infinite source of joy for us. We can allow our weary souls to be assuaged, trusting that he who has made arrangements for us to find pleasure here in this crooked world knows how to design alternate sources of pleasure when we will forever be with him. “In his presence”, David says, “is fullness of joy. And at his right hand are pleasures forevermore” (Psalm 16:11).