'Twixt the now and the not yet (better than "it's now of never"!)

"But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned up and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed"  2 Peter 3:10,11.

"By its light will the nations walk, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it". Revelation 21:24.

Do you think we'll eat in the new creation?
Is there a place for really sitting down at table with others to feast-in and then revel in the marital union of heaven and earth?

That may appear a little minor (how can that matter?) to some, but think about what's behind the question for a second.
Were we made to be creatures of dependence, or self reliance?
Eating is certainly one of those ways that a key truth about us is expressed, so the question touches on what will be different or in some respects better, but similar, come the resurrection.

Even if eating is, perhaps, possible, then surely, some may answer, other, more 'divine' contemplations will take precedence. Isn't that the real pursuit of heaven?

So then, it follows, we should certainly deem even more bodily activities, like sex, as entirely foreign there. No opportunity, then, it would appear for Isaiah's vision of the new earth filled with families and children (Isaiah 65:17-25).
Spiritual beings are far above such earthly pursuits, it's been argued, so this is merely a quaint image of the afterlife.
So why were we made bodily, and why does that mode of existence continue (1 Corinthians 15:52) to fundamentally define us... forever?

Some religions, of course, see it completely differently.
Whilst Gnosticism entirely denounces the body in the afterlife, Islam views heaven as almost nothing but perpetual sex, as does Mormonism.

That's actually why I begun this entry with the two verses concerning what's to come.

Peter in his statement is placing things in terms of the end of the present age - everything we know will be gone - even the elements burn, but the terms used here are nuanced in a fashion that we may not see at face value. Whilst he's aiming to show that, just like in Noah's day, there is an end to the present, principally to curtail evil, the terms like 'dissolved' also contain the meaning of change.

When I consider the concept of heaven on earth, I usually find myself looking at those few verses in Genesis 2, where there was that brief, shining moment of the potential of exquisite, natural life before the face of God - to raise a people working and nurturing towards that glorious garden city we glimpse in Revelation, fed and watered by the tree of the Lamb's throne (Revelation 22:1-3).
The language speaks of the marriage of all that was made good with a humanity clothed and nourished by the very life of God. I'd suggest that's what is encapsulated in that vital, 'turn or perish' promise - redemption.

This takes me to that other verse I referenced.
Whilst nothing impure belongs in the marriage city, it's clearly saying that the earth glory that has been known by it's kings is brought in as part of the splendor.

Place the expansive conclusions of these two verses together, and there are some major ramifications to consider. Redemption is a purifying, continuing extension of all that creation has been made to be.

Perhaps the question, then, needs to be how can we be anything other than genuinely human in the new earth? How could we not be engaged in the most splendid activities that are wholly creative if we are to show the true worth of what has been so fully given to us as His beloved?

When we look at Christian fellowship at its best, we see a very natural extension of all that is good about family. When we consider the saving work at the core of Christianity, we see it is entirely about two (God and humanity) becoming one.

How will creation be employed following the day of its renewal?
Certainly, the answer must be that everything within it will be used exceedingly well to express and delight in the richness and measureless radiance of the dwelling of God with men.
The problem isn't will the material have a role to play in all of this. The trouble, of course, is that we currently inhabit a realm where the vitality of what is made is dulled by sin, so creation itself is desperately eager to be allowed to once more burst out in its true glory (Romans 8: 20,21). Those verses are staggering, because they are saying we haven't even begun to see the proper natural splendor of the world, and certainly not of those created to express something of God's radiance.

There's a gorgeous moment in C S Lewis' Perelandra, where Ransom meets the queen of that world for the first time. Whilst the description is exquisite, it's the 'weight' of what is captured here that makes me tremble. A humanity without sin is a terrible, awesome thing, and the day is fast approaching when we will know that dress, because the life in our veins will be that of the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world.

Such reflections need to truly be ours, for they are our treasure.

Christ calls us to know this beauty - to look at the magnitude of what is said in both creation and redemption, and then, to find ourselves in the saving life that He gives.

Look up into that goodness, and life will certainly be more than we've yet seen or heard.