Heaven may be mystical place

Many Christians may be surprised to find that the Bible offers a very limited description of heaven.

Jesus describes it in obscure parables.

Protestants, Catholics, Mormons, Jehovah’s Witnesses and Seventh Day Adventists each have their own take on heaven.

No doubt, so does the person sitting in the pew next to you.

In fact, questions about heaven, or its equivalent term, the Kingdom of God, remain.

Does it exist, pertain to this world, or to something beyond it?

As I grow older, the speed of my life seems to quicken, and I’ve begun to accept my own mortality.

I used to ponder what would happen and where would I go after – to put it euphemistically, “I pass.”

At some point in my decades-long pilgrimage, I realized I would never be able to figure it all out and abandoned my thoughts of what heaven in the hereafter may or may not be.

After all, in time, we’ll all know the answer.

Besides, my spiritual journey took me in a completely different direction.

My shift in thinking was, in part, shaped by Jesus’ words in Luke 17:21.

Being asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God would come, Jesus answered them, “The kingdom of God is not coming with signs to be observed, nor will they say, look, here it is, or there, for behold the kingdom of God is in the midst of you.”

What in the world (pun intended) could that mean?

Like some, I have learned to recognize and treasure those “thin spots” when the “veil between this world and the invisible one parts and something sacred takes place.”

When it happens, I experience a feeling of connectedness that isn’t necessarily linked to Christianity and most likely is not even religious.

It is, however, personal, spiritual and indescribable – yet I know I’ve taken a step toward the mystical.

For more than 30 years, I ran with The Youngstown Road Runners Club, and many of its members became my dearest friends.

Running together, with labored breathing, we shared laughter and tears, victories and defeats, the extraordinary as well as the ordinary.

Dressed in running clothes, we all were equal. Covered in sweat, no difference existed between rich and poor.

Those who were successful in life ran alongside those who struggled with it.

We morphed from individuals into a single entity – that of a runner.

To our delight, we ran within the splendor of Mill Creek MetroParks, where the trees seemed as church spires, the pillowy clouds of white against the blue sky more awesome than the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, and the trickling Mill Creek waters as sacred as the River Jordan.

When bathed in creation itself, surrounded by those I cared about and who cared about me, combined with the effort and exhilaration of running, on occasion something sublime and transcendent occurred.

I felt connected, not just to my fellow runners, but also to the past, the future and the eternal now.

It was an experience of heaven on Earth, and as Jesus would say, I was “in the midst” of it.

Some will say my experiences, while pleasant enough, were only routine and my feelings still very much worldly.

But I did briefly experience something – perhaps a closeness to truth, beauty or even the divine.

While the sources that provoke this kind of feeling will differ with the individual, I suggest that we treasure any experience that opens us to oneness.

Even if these brief glimpses of heaven are nothing more than a wonderful mix of beauty and friendship, I’m still grateful they have been a part of my life.

This earthly road we travel isn’t easy.

But my spiritual journey revealed to me that every now and then heaven breaks from the future and exposes itself in the here and now.

I want to recognize it, step into it and be thankful for the opportunity to do so.

The miracle stories of Jesus’ healing the blind are often thought of as a metaphor encouraging his followers to see with new eyes, to see the heaven amidst us.

I have decided to always keep looking.

Tom Bresko, retired from Mill Creek Metro Parks, is a Christian on a spiritual pilgrimage.