by Rev. Richard Dalton

That’s not quite as ominous as it sounds.
Theresa and I already have our cemetery lots here. In fact, they’re very close to the bench where I’m sitting. I can look around and see some of our future neighbors who have already moved in.
Theresa and I aren’t in any hurry to join them.
But today I came to the cemetery for a perfectly practical reason. I wanted to see whether I could get Internet here, perhaps using my iPhone or a hotspot.
And I made a disturbing discovery.
The cemetery doesn’t seem to have Internet.
This raises a question that apparently nobody at the cemetery has adequately considered:
What am I going to do for eternity?

I Want a Full Burial
First, let me establish something.
No ashes for me.
I want the whole burial.
And if they’ll permit it, I’d like my iPhone to come along.
I realize there are practical difficulties. Batteries don’t last forever. Apple eventually stops supporting older operating systems. And I’m fairly certain the cemetery doesn’t have charging stations installed next to the headstones.
But cremation creates an even bigger technological problem.
What exactly does cremation do to an iPhone?
I’m reasonably certain the warranty doesn’t cover it.
Perhaps the phone could be placed afterward in the urn. Modern phones are getting fairly large, however, so somebody should probably check the dimensions before making final arrangements.
A tablet would be even more difficult.
A desktop PC is obviously out of the question. There are limits to what you can reasonably expect a funeral director to fit into a casket.
But Seriously—No Internet?
This is where the problem becomes theological.
We all spend a considerable amount of time scrolling, searching, discovering and reading.
Five hours on the Internet can sometimes seem like five minutes.
So what happens when you’ve got eternity?
How am I going to keep track of loved ones without Facebook?
How will I know what’s happening politically without Ben Shapiro?
How will I look something up?
What happens when I have a question and can’t Google it?
I suppose I could simply ask someone.
There’s an old-fashioned idea.
Then another possibility occurred to me.
Maybe in eternity I won’t need Facebook to find my friends.
They’ll actually be there.
Maybe I won’t need FaceTime to see somebody’s face.
Maybe I won’t need Google to learn about creation because I’ll have an entire renewed creation to explore.
And perhaps I won’t need a search engine to find answers when I’m living in the presence of the One through whom everything was made.
Suddenly the loss of Internet access doesn’t sound quite so frightening.

Heaven May Be Much Bigger Than We Imagine
I also don’t believe the biblical picture of eternity is simply billions of people standing around the throne of God singing forever.
Worship is certainly at the center of it.
But the Bible gives us tantalizing glimpses of something much larger.
It speaks of resurrection.
It speaks of a new heaven and a new earth.
It speaks of a city.
It speaks of nations.
It speaks of reigning with Christ.
It speaks of God’s servants serving Him.
Whatever eternity actually looks like, the biblical hope isn’t merely that human beings escape the physical world and become disembodied spirits floating somewhere in the clouds.
Christianity promises resurrection.
God apparently isn’t finished with creation.
That makes me wonder whether our desire to explore, learn, create, communicate and discover isn’t something God intends simply to eliminate.
Perhaps He intends to fulfill it.
The Internet is remarkable because it gives us a tiny taste of something human beings have always wanted: connection.
I can sit in Michigan and communicate instantly with someone thousands of miles away. I can hear a symphony recorded decades ago. I can pull up a photograph of a city I’ve never visited. I can search through libraries without leaving my chair.
That’s extraordinary.
But perhaps we’ve mistaken the appetizer for the banquet.
Maybe Eternity Is the Ultimate Connection
Jesus said:
“This is eternal life, that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.”
That puts eternity in a rather different perspective.
Eternal life isn’t merely life that never stops.
It’s knowing God.
And perhaps the deepest desires behind all our searching are finally satisfied not by having unlimited information but by having unlimited relationship with God and His redeemed creation.
The Internet gives me information about people.
Eternity gives me people.
The Internet gives me pictures of places.
Eternity may give me creation itself.
The Internet lets me search for truth.
Christ said, “I am the truth.”
That’s quite an upgrade.
I Hope for Time With Jesus
Of course, I hope eternity includes time with Jesus Himself.
There is no one I love more than Him, and no one I would rather spend time with.
I’m sure heaven isn’t all about me—or about any one of us.
There will be many others there who love Jesus deeply and share that same desire to know Him, worship Him and enjoy His presence.
That doesn’t make heaven smaller. It makes it greater.
I won’t have to compete with anyone for Jesus’ attention. His love is not limited, divided or exhausted. He can be fully present with every one of His people, and each of us can know Him more deeply than we ever have before.
Perhaps part of the joy of eternity will be seeing Jesus together with people from every generation and nation—people who have loved Him, trusted Him and longed to be with Him.
We will not be isolated in our relationship with Christ. We will share that joy with a vast family of redeemed people.
Still, I’m Keeping the Phone
So after sitting here for a while, I’m feeling a little better about the cemetery’s poor Internet service.
I’m beginning to suspect God has already anticipated the problem.
There may be a communications system in the Kingdom considerably more advanced than Verizon, AT&T, Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, Facebook—or whatever technology Apple introduces next year.
And there is another encouraging thought.
If the resurrection really means resurrection, I won’t be spending eternity in this cemetery anyway.
Neither will Theresa.
The cemetery is simply where our bodies may wait for a while.
So perhaps I don’t need to worry about whether my cemetery plot gets five bars.
Still, when the time comes, I’d appreciate it if somebody slipped the iPhone into the casket.
Just in case.
Rev. Richard Dalton
Creator, LookUpDetroit.com & JesusQuestion.com

P.S. — Hope to See You There and please don’t tell me, “I hope I’m good enough.”
I know I’m not good enough—and I have some news for you: neither are you.
That’s why Jesus didn’t bring us merely good advice. He brought us great news.
I’d love to talk with you about that now—because eternity is a long “time”, and what happens later is worth thinking about today, fatherdalton@gmail.com
Explore more about Jesus at JesusQuestion.com