Today, I went downtown, and so I didn’t visit the traditional Latin mass that I normally attend. Rather, I went to the downtown Catholic churches, three of them, to be exact.
I was a little taken aback when I visited the 11 a.m. mass. A few months ago, when I visited that church, not many people were there. They were in the front rows, while the back half of the church was empty. There were cords on the sides of the back rows, indicating to us that we shouldn’t sit there, but in the front. And, in case we didn’t get that hint, a sign told us to sit in the rows further up. But I usually crawled under the cord and sat in the back. I like to leave right after the homily, and so I sit as close to the exit-door as I can.
Today, however, there were no cords, and the church was packed, in both the front and also in the back. Why? Is this a special Sunday?
The theme in all three church services was the resurrection from the dead. One of our texts was the story of the martyrs in II Maccabees 7, in which brothers and their mother choose to be martyred rather than eat a piece of pork. In so doing, they were protesting the demand of Antiochus Epiphanes that they abandon the Jewish religion. And they assured themselves that God would restore their lives in the resurrection.
The priest asked us what we would be willing to die for. He said that many people consider this present life to be all that there is, and so they probably wouldn’t give their lives for anything. That may be a blanket generalization, for there may very well be examples of people who don’t believe in an afterlife, yet give their lives for somebody else’s good. I think of an elderly Jewish man, who taught at a college where there was a shooting. He gave his life so that his students might live. As far as I know, he wasn’t doing this in order to get a good afterlife. Rather, he figured that he had already lived a full life, and so he should give others a shot, especially those who had their whole lives ahead of them.
But, speaking for myself, I’d have an incredibly hard time laying down my life, if this life were all that there is. If this life is it, then I’d try to preserve every moment of it that I possibly can.
But I’ve had problems with the Christian view of the afterlife. There are Christians who say that we shouldn’t live for reward in this life, but rather for reward in the afterlife. If you’re in a bad marriage and you’re unhappy, and you can’t tolerate the prospect of spending the rest of your natural life with your spouse, some Christians would tell you to stay married, for you’ll get a reward in the afterlife for so doing. After all, according to Jesus, God considers divorce a “no-no,” and those who marry a divorcee are guilty of adultery.
If you have same-sex attractions and desire a relationship, some Christians would tell you that you need to forego that desire and remain celibate for the rest of your natural life (right before they go home to their picture-perfect families). Sure, you may be unhappy for the rest of your natural life, but you’ll be rewarded in the afterlife! God opposes homosexuality as an abomination, and Paul says that homosexuals won’t enter the kingdom of God. For conservative Christians, homosexuals should forego their happiness in this life to avoid hell and to receive a reward in heaven, or the resurrection.
But that’s an extremely heavy burden to put on people, and all for something we’re not even absolutely sure is true. How do we know that the Christian view of the afterlife is the way things really are? And should we pressure people to be unhappy for the rest of their lives for something that may or may not be true?
At the same time, I hope that this life is not all that there is. This life by itself cannot make me happy. Things often don’t go the way that I want. I hope that there’s something more.