And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.” (Lk. 23:42-43 ESV)
There are many hard things about living in a Covid-19 world. One of is our inability to state with any certainty what’s going to happen.
My son and his fellow senior-high students want to know if there will be a graduation ceremony for them in May.
I don’t know.
Church members are asking church leaders when they’ll be able to worship corporately again.
No one knows.
Kendra and I wonder if our daughter Jordan will get infected with the virus as she works as a nurse.
It’s hard to know for sure.
The future is so foggy right now. There are more questions than answers.
And this uncertainty only adds to our suffering.
That’s why it’s helpful to hear these words from Jesus on the cross spoken to a man crucified near him. Jesus is saying many things with these words. For now, let’s focus on the word “paradise.” This is a Persian word that means “enclosure” or “park” or “garden.” It’s used a dozen times in Gen. 2-3 where it is translated “garden” and it refers to the Garden of Eden. With this word Jesus is pointing back to Genesis and to Eden, and he’s pointing forward to Revelation and to a renewed Eden.
The first time the word appears in the Bible is Gen. 2:8 (ESV):
And the Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east, and there he put the man whom he had formed.
The final time the word appears in the Bible is Rev. 2:7 (CEV):
If you have ears, listen to what the Spirit says to the churches. I will let everyone who wins the victory eat from the life-giving tree in God’s wonderful garden.
Our story begins and ends here–in a garden, in paradise. In other words, our future is this garden. Our story ultimately ends where it began–in this safe, life-giving park, free from all evil and injustice, living in harmony with each other and with God.
Lysa Terkeurst writes about this long journey from one garden to the next:
Everything on this side of eternity is in a state of decay. This is simply the natural result of sin entering the equation. Bright days become dark nights. The laughter of living will be eclipsed by the tears of dying. The excitement of this moment is torn away by the disappointment of the next moment. This constant threat to our deep feelings ushers in depression, anxiety, callousness, and, quite honestly, a skepticism about the goodness of God. Unless. We see that all those harsh realities aren’t the end, but rather a temporary middle space. Not the place where we are meant to wallow and dwell. Rather the place through which we will have to learn to wrestle well … In this restored garden of Eden the curse will be lifted and perfection will greet us like a long-lost friend. There will be no gap between our expectations and experiences. They will be one and the same. We won’t be hurt. We won’t live hurt. We won’t be disappointed, and we won’t live disappointed. Not in people. Not in ourselves. Not in God. Our feelings and faith will nod in agreement. We will return to a purity of emotion where we can experience the best of our hearts working in tandem with the absolutes of truth. (It’s Not Supposed to Be This Way)
We live on a journey from one garen to the next. The middle ground can be difficult ground. But it is not permanent. It is temporary. Our home has always been and will always be the garden.
Some of us have never felt the in-between-ness of those gardens as much as we do today. But while we wrestle so much with so much uncertainty, there is one thing we can be certain of–we’re still on the way to that garden. It may be hard to make sense of the chapter we’re now living. But it’s easy to make sense of the book of which the chapter is just a part. Ours is a story from garden to garden. We know how this all ends.
That’s not intended to be escapism or an invitation to be so heavenly minded that we are of no earthly good. In fact, it means just the opposite. In Mere Christianity C. S. Lewis put it this way:
A continual looking forward to the eternal world is not (as some modern people think) a form of escapism or wishful thinking, but one of the things a Christian is meant to do. It does not mean that we are to leave the present world as it is. If you read history you will find that the Christians who did most for the present world were just those who thought most of the next. The Apostles themselves, who set on foot the conversion of the Roman Empire, the great men who built up the Middle Ages, the English Evangelicals who abolished the Slave Trade, all left their mark on Earth, precisely because their minds were occupied with Heaven. It is since Christians have largely ceased to think of the other world that they have become so ineffective in this. Aim at Heaven and you will get earth ‘thrown in’: aim at earth and you will get neither.
This is the gift Jesus gives to us from his cross. He becomes a storyteller, reminding us how the narrative concludes so that we may carry on in the present. And this too is an important role we can play for other sufferers in times of crisis. We can play the role of storyteller. We can lovingly be present in the moment with the hurting. And we can remind them how this story ends.
One day, we too, will be with him in paradise.
