Hugging Jesus...

This photo has been making the rounds of Facebook and the Internet. I believe it is an artist's conception of a person arriving in heaven, and upon encountering Jesus, is embraced by him, or joyously and spontaneously embraces him! The artist captures the joy on the individual's face quite effectively, and for most people of faith who view the painting, an empathetic smile--or even a tear or two--may ensue.

What emotions, if any, does the picture elicit in you? Many who post or email it, comment about how they hope this will be the scene when they "cross over," or they relate it to a loved one or dear friend who has recently died, and are comforted by the artist's portrayal of how that one is now in the arms of Jesus. I thought about a dear, dear church member in my first appointment--Velma--who passed away many years ago. Velma was the most "connected to Jesus" person I have ever known. Ever. And she was maybe the only person I ever knew who, I believe, really matched the Apostle Paul in "praying without ceasing." Velma prayed every day for each pastor whom had ever served her church. I remember how honored and blessed I was to be a part of that personal litany. Years after leaving that appointment, in a few of my darker moments, I was lifted by remembering that Velma was praying for me. I also remember the grief I felt when I got word she had passed. (Oh, I wasn't sorry for Velma, because she was hugging Jesus! No, my grief was for missing those daily prayers!) This picture could very well be Velma arriving in glory. Believe me, Jesus would have had to pry himself from her, and it might have taken a few days.

I like the picture, for it really got me thinking about a couple of things. First of all, we really can't tell the gender of the individual hugging Jesus. And given that the "rainbow colors" are prominent, it's very possible that this gender ambiguity is intentional by the artist. This Jesus welcomes all, and in this depiction of heaven, "All means all."

My next observation may trouble some of you, OR, you may be strange in the way that I am strange. For, you see, I have no interest in hugging Jesus. At least I don't think I do. The few times I have been in the presence of persons of some great note, I had no compulsion to run up to them and solicit a hearty handshake, or even approach them directly, let alone embrace them. Initially, I stood silently in their presence, not too close, and was quite caught up in awe of the individual, and what they represented to me. (Please know that I am not referencing persons of mere celebrity status such as sports stars or actors, but academicians, authors, theologians, musicians, artists, or elected officials in high office, either political or religious.) I even had this view of my college and seminary professors. I could never call them by their first names, much preferring to use their earned titles. I had no desire to "befriend them," preferring instead to "sit at their feet, take in their teachings, and impress them by how seriously I treated their subject and excelled in their class. I also wanted to honor them by "making good" on what they taught me by integrating it into my life, philosophy, and later, my ministry.

Well, with that in mind, do you see why I don't get jazzed up with the idea of hugging Jesus? This is Jesus--the Son of God, co-creator of the universe, the protagonist in "The Greatest Story Ever Told," God's "star-child" bridge to humanity! This ain't ol' uncle Frank, or even my departed grandmother! In my mind's eye, I can image just standing there, looking at him in unbelief that I have somehow been privileged to be in such close proximity. I think I'll be sizing up his appearance against the database of portrayals of Jesus I remember from my earthly sojourn. I hope I'll won't be too stunned to listen, in case the "still, small voice" I disciplined myself to hear in the silence now actually becomes audible and unmistakably directed at me. In my fondest dreams, I can imagine him saying, "I'm doing an update to the Sermon on the Mount in room 203 in five minutes, won't you sit in?" Or "Hey, have you met Paul yet?" Or even still, "Peter didn't pull that 'May I take your coat?' bit on you when you arrived, did he? That rascal!" I'm really hoping he doesn't say something like "Welcome, my son" or "Enter into the joy of the Lord," for I KNOW I'll just pass out, given that I'll be so wrapped up in awe as to be paralyzed.

Thanks to God's abundant grace, I know I will have nothing more to "prove" to him about myself, any more than I did in this life. Still, I think I will want to "worship" Jesus by continuing to absorb his teaching, accept his acceptance of me gratefully, and go about building new relationships just like I did on earth.

I might eventually get around to singing, and even spouting a few scriptural expressions of praise, but I'm not hugging Jesus. Now, please don't think that I'm suggesting that any of my thoughts about this encounter should be yours. In fact, I hope you have a few, vivid "heaven hopes" of your own! After you do whatever you do in those first moments in the presence of Jesus, don't forget to meet us for class in room 203. And would someone bring at least one lunch to share? I hope he didn't grade my sermons...

Final thought: what if Jesus hugs ME? I'll probably whoop and cry like the person in the painting, for what else would I do when the one who is the source of my greatest blessings, the one who helped me find my earthly partner (whom I've never escaped being in awe of, either), and guided us as we raised our family and spirited our ministry, grabs MY neck and pulls me close? I'd be a hot mess.

Well, that really wasn't my FINAL thought. I hope that one is many, many years off!

Shalom, Yinz!