dozen helium balloons. Balloons are my go-to for everything when I
don’t know what to bring. I take them to birthday parties, job interviews,
dentist appointments, bar exams, to the gym—everywhere except scuba
diving. Balloons are an internationally understood code for celebration,
joy, welcome, acceptance, and love.
I think heaven might be a little like the greeting Walter gives to the
refugees he meets at the airport. A celebration, a homecoming. None of
us will need any luggage either. (I’m expecting plenty of balloons when I
get there; I can’t lie.) From what I’ve read, we’ll get a chance to meet
Jesus and we’ll have a discussion with Him. It’s not the kind of
discussion someone has when they get sent to the principal at school. It
will be more of an uncovering, a revealing of what we didn’t understand
during our lives. For most of us, I bet it will involve a tremendous
unlearning of many of the things we thought we were certain of.
Jesus referred to two groups. He called them sheep and goats when He
talked about the discussion we’ll have with Him, but He meant you and
me. He said we’ll talk about how we treated the people we came across
during our lives and whether we treated them as if they were Him. These
are people like the ones Walter greets at the airport—the hungry, the
thirsty, the strangers. People who are sick or don’t have clothes. People
under bridges and in jail cells. Jesus told His friends we’ll all hear about
the times when we saw Him during our lives but didn’t recognize Him
and the couple of times we did.
I’ve got a long list of questions I want to talk to God about when we
meet. For instance, I’d like to know how God decided where to put the
waterfalls in Yosemite. Have you seen them? They’re huge and majestic.
And I want to know about Half Dome too—where’s the other half? Sadly,
it seems none of the questions on my list are the things Jesus will want to
discuss with me. Jesus won’t want to talk about our elections or