My thoughts these days turn often to heaven. In those moments when I hover between asleep and awake, in those moments when I bow my head to pray, in those moments when I lift my voice to sing, my mind turns often to that place and to its people. My father made the journey there not too long ago and my son trailed close behind him. The two key men in my life—the one in whose footsteps I followed and the one who was following in mine—have both preceded me and both await me. Never have I had such longing to be there, for never have I been able to envision a welcome from those who are so familiar, so beloved, so sorely missed.
The Bible has a lot to say about heaven and much of it is presented in language that demands analysis and meditation, language that points us to the literal by way of the evocative. Heaven has gates of pearl and streets of gold, we are told. It has walls of jasper and waters of crystal. It is in the shape of a cube, each of its walls adorned with precious jewels. It is
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