Pearls are formed when a small grain of sand becomes embedded in an oyster, irritating it. To soften the irritation, the oyster coats the grain of sand with a smooth layer of what is called mother of pearl. As long as the oyster can feel the irritation, it continues to coat the sand with layers of pearl. What kind of irritation would have been necessary to form the pearls that make up the gates to our heavenly city when they are so large they can fit into a wall that is two hundred feet thick?! It must have been more than just irritation. It must have been horrendous, severe suffering!
I wonder . . . are the pearls a reminder, every time you and I enter My Father’s House, that we enter only because of the intense suffering and death of God’s Son? Do those pearly gates reflect the Cross of Jesus Christ?
About four thousand years ago, Abraham left Ur of the Chaldees, looking for “the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God.” As he followed God in a life of faith, he lived in a tent that he constantly moved from place to place. He never settled down. He never was allowed to put down roots or have any kind of permanent residence. He knew he was just an alien and a stranger on earth-just a pilgrim passing through to a great eternal city with foundations.
Can you imagine the thrill that will be Abraham’s when he bursts through the gates of My Father’s House, shouting, “I’ve found it! I’ve found what I have been hoping for! All the days and nights of wandering and living in tents were worth it. All of God’s promises are true!” All of Abraham’s goals and hopes and dreams-those things that were the driving motivational forces in his life-had been focused on his eternal home, and he will not be disappointed! The city of his dreams is built by God!
For many years I have traveled all over the world in response to invitations to give out God’s Word. There have been times, such as my first visit to India, when I have started out by climbing onto the plane with my stomach churning, my knees knocking, and my heart fibrillating – terrified because I was not sure where I was going, or who would meet me at the journey’s end. But what a difference there has been in my attitude when I have had the opportunity for a second visit to that same place. I have left home with peace in my heart because I knew where I was going and who would meet me at the journey’s end. In the same way, the prospect of death can fill you and me with terror and dread – unless we know where we are going. Knowing as much as we can about our final destination, and Who will meet us at the end of life’s journey, takes the fear out of getting there.
One of the pictures in John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress is of a man bending double from his waist, sorting through a can of garbage, carefully extracting the little bits of tinsel he finds there. Behind him is standing an angel who is offering him a solid gold crown studded with precious jewels, but the man is so engrossed in the garbage he never notices the angel.
When we get to heaven, will you and I be ashamed of our preoccupation with “garbage” in this life – garbage that prevented us from dying to our desire for it, turning around, leaving it all behind, and reaching out for what God wanted to give us? Why is it that we seem to cling so tightly to what we want, and in the process lose what God wants us to have? God wants us to have power and blessing and glory. But you don’t obtain it by adding Jesus to your life-He has to be your life!
In Revelation 21 the apostle John describes the glimpse he was given into God’s heavenly home. My Father’s House is real! It is not:
an abstract idea
or a small child’s fantasy
or an artist’s concept of celestial beauty
or a musician’s theme for a symphony
or a fearful person’s imaginative escape from harm.
It is the only true home that will keep you and your loved ones happy, healthy, and safe – forever!
The angel who took John on a guided tour literally measured the dimensions of Heaven, emphasizing that it is indeed a literal, specific, physical, actual place. Heaven is real!
