Several years ago, I was about to begin a funeral Mass when a man blew through the front doors of the Church (obviously late), making quite a spectacle of himself. As he attempted to move past me and take his seat, he said these words, pointing to the casket - "she is in a better place," before the man could get away, I responded - "do you believe that, or is it just something we say to feel better?"

Maybe that's a good question for all of us? Have you ever struggled with doubt when contemplating the concept of Heaven?  

If so, I will present three reasons why that may be. If not, you can stop here; with my congratulations.  

Firstly, we doubt Heaven because we are overly familiar with Earth. 

Small children love to open and close doors. They are not curious about what's beyond the door; the door itself is enough. But as the child's familiarity with the door grows, the excitement is lost, and they begin looking beyond the door. We are like this; our day-to-day experience has become overly familiar. But let us not forget, in this world, whales the size of small buildings swim through the ocean, feeding on microscopic plankton. Birds float through the air, singing with unparalleled beauty. Bees collect pollen from flowers and bring it to their nest, producing honey that we spread on our toast for breakfast, and two people expressing their love for one another can create a third person. Maybe, Heaven wouldn't seem so far-fetched if we could recapture the fairytale we already live.

Secondly, we doubt Heaven because we live in a cynical world. One morning, I was driving through Connecticut and saw a bulletin board advertising an expensive car. The ad's gist was that people would respect you if you owned this car. Interestingly, the exact vehicle in the ad was driving a little ahead of me, and behind him was an angry woman laying on the horn, telling the owner of that car where he could go. 

Barraged with promises which never come to pass, we become skeptical as a means of self-preservation. So, when a Priest stands at a pulpit and tells you - "one day there will be no more tears, no more death, no more pain, and suffering," it's understandable that part of you says - "I've heard this all before." 

When my grandson was only a few hours old, he cried for milk. No one told him to cry; he didn't even know what milk was; he just hungered, so he cried, and his cry presupposed somehow there was a way to satisfy that hunger. 

While we may be highly cynical, isn't Heaven the resounding cry of our hearts? To see our deceased loved ones again, experience peace, and cast away tears, pain, and suffering? Might it be possible that this, the cry of the human heart, is the answer to cynicism? Because it presupposes that somewhere, somehow, a means of satisfying that cry exists?  

And thirdly, we doubt Heaven because we misunderstand it. A typical description of Heaven that I hear - is a location somewhere in the stratosphere, where we go when we die, which is a total mischaracterization.  

So what is Heaven? It is an experience, not primarily a location. Let me explain— wherever we look, we see two things. First, we see the original intention, meaning the beauty of this world, and second, its brokenness. For example, suppose you hike up a mountain and get to the top. In that case, you might experience a breathtaking skyline, but not without first witnessing a rotting animal carcass or dead tree along the way. We see the glory of God's original intention, but we also see constant reminders that something is broken. We have the same experience within ourselves; there are two of us, the person we are in reality, in our frailty, and the person our conscience tells us we ought to be in a perfect world, which we have not been able to fully manifest. 

With this in mind, let's avoid viewing Heaven as a new, fantastical location, somewhere out in the stratosphere. But instead, the world we already live in only corrected. It is the skyline experience without the carcass or downed tree, promise without the skepticism, the authentic person without the frailty. Perhaps this approach will allow us to accept what we already know to be the truth: Heaven is not some unobtainable fantasy; it is the world we already live in, only as it ought to be. And the fact that we yearn for this to be true, that it is the cry of every heart, presupposes the possibility that somehow, somewhere, it can be satisfied.

Emmanuel Orthodox Church has a brand new location. 11 Lincoln Street, Brookfield, Ma. 01506.

We will begin our annual Food For The Poor collection on March 9th. The goal is to set aside your spare change through the Lenten season. Let's try and beat last year's record of $297.00!!

After a long break due to COVID, our Antiochian Women's Group is meeting on the 3rd Sunday of each month, directly after Mass. All women are invited to join. 

Our next Monthly brunch will be held on April 10th directly after Mass, at the Ye Olde Tavern in West Brookfield. The meal is free, the fellowship is fun and the opportunity is for all members of the parish. Come one, come all!