A friend lent me her 2/23 issue of TIME, a magazine I don’t think I’ve even glanced at for a decade and haven’t read seriously for 40 years. But this issue intrigued me, because the cover features an adorable infant and the headline:

THIS BABY COULD LIVE TO BE 142 YEARS OLD: 
Dispatches from the Frontiers of Longevity

How interesting, I thought. Our Creator said in Genesis 6:3 that 120 years will be our maximum lifespan; TIME implies that He was probably mistaken.  

Of course, it wouldn’t be the first time that this magazine challenged His declarations. After all, it was TIME that famously asked, in 1966, “Is God Dead?” – this in spite of His repeated assurances (in Deuteronomy 33:27, to cite just one verse) that He is eternal. I think TIME’s editors and reporters might save themselves some embarrassment if they would read the Bible once in a while, don't you? 

But I digress.

So: scientists are apparently working feverishly, and spending a ton of money, in a frantic quest to extend human life.  There’s a lot that could be said about this activity, but I’d simply like to ask these “longevity pioneers” just two questions:

• If you think this life is all there is, then what difference does it make how long you live? In the end, you’ll be dead and gone and probably, in very short order, forgotten completely, at least in the personal sense.
• If you believe in the possibility of any sort of eternal life, why would you not put your time, energy and money into investigating it – i.e., into figuring out what that life might be, and how to make sure you'll spend it in the best possible place?

 
I just don’t get it. Why would you want to live to be 142, or even 120, on this earth? Even if you remained in great health until the very last day, what would all that extra time buy you? Another 4,000 rounds of golf? Five more Packer Super Bowl victories? The opportunity to see your great great great great grandchildren?

Whatever you might add to that list, I’d have to ask “So what? What conceivable difference would it make in the long run?”

Because when all is said and done, eternity is the only timeframe that matters.

“Happily ever after” is the only rational goal.

And the gospel of Jesus Christ is the only thing you need to know in order to get there.  

I am amazed to think back on all the time and money I have spent over the years on this earthly home ... and how it continues to crumble around me in spite of continued maintenance. 

In fact, I just started a new (and horrifyingly costly) list of Things That Will Eventually Need To Be Repaired. Even if I live to see these items checked off, new and unfixable problems will certainly arise. 

That's why I was especially delighted to stumble across this little essay from Mrs. Chas. A. Cowman's classic Streams in the Desert. I saved it some time ago -- whether it's been months or years, I haven't a clue, since my memory is one of the things that's crumbling -- but what a great message for anyone striving for 20/20 vision in his or her eternal eyes. 

Ready to move

"For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens" (2 Cor.5:1).

"The owner of the tenement which I have occupied for many years has given notice that he will furnish but little or nothing more for repairs. I am advised to be ready to move.

"At first this was not a very welcome notice. The surroundings here are in many respects very pleasant, and were it not for the evidence of decay, I should consider the house good enough. But even a light wind causes it to tremble and totter, and all the braces are not sufficient to make it secure. So I am getting ready to move.

"It is strange how quickly one's interest is transferred to the prospective home. I have been consulting maps of the new country and reading descriptions of its inhabitants. One who visited it has returned, and from him I learn that it is beautiful beyond description; language breaks down in attempting to tell of what he heard while there. He says that, in order to make an investment there, he has suffered the loss of all things that he owned here, and even rejoices in what others would call making a sacrifice. Another, whose love to me has been proven by the greatest possible test, is now there. He has sent me several clusters of the most delicious fruits. After tasting them, all food here seems insipid. 

"Two or three times I have been down by the border of the river that forms the boundary, and have wished myself among the company of those who were singing praises to the King on the other side. Many of my friends have moved there. Before leaving they spoke of my coming later. I have seen the smile upon their faces as they passed out of sight. Often I am asked to make some new investments here, but my answer in every case is, 'I am getting ready to move.'" --Selected (Originally posted 9/25/13)

I recently attended the funeral of a wonderful woman who had died, surrounded by her loving children, after having lived 89 happy, faith-filled years.

Her funeral was held in a Lutheran church packed with family and friends. Over the course of an hour or so, we sang some of her favorite hymns – “In the Garden,” “When Morning Gilds the Skies,” “Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee” – as well as the contemporary song “Shout to the Lord.” We heard some comforting readings from Scripture and a homily, as well as her grandson’s lovely (and often humorous) tribute to his grandmother. And of course we shared in a number of prayers.

There were some tears, but mostly shed over brave smiles. It seems that most of the woman’s family members are believers themselves. They haven’t lost her; they know exactly where she is, and know that they will be reunited with her eternally one happy day. And so they are able to rejoice over her home-going.

What a contrast to some of the funerals I’ve been to, where uncertainty or unbelief have reigned.

It makes me wonder once again what it is in our nature that allows us to approach certain death without looking into what comes next, and what our options might be.

Seriously: What if Christianity is true? What if eternity exists, and you will spend it in either heaven or hell? What if your ultimate destination depends not on how good you have been in this life, or how popular or how rich, but solely on whether or not you trusted in Christ to have paid the penalty for your sin?

Millions upon millions of people have believed just that over the centuries. Some of us even came to this conclusion after investigating the subject exhaustively.

Doesn’t it seem like the epitome of foolishness to refuse to look into it?

I spent the first 48 years of my life in precisely that state. Year after year, I told myself that no one could possibly know what happens after death, although I have no idea where I got that idea – certainly not as a result of any great intellectual journey. That journey was reserved for the 15 months following the biggest heartbreak of my life, and it led me to the doubt-free conclusion that Christianity is truth.

If you haven’t yet investigated this most important question, what exactly is stopping you? It can’t possibly be worth risking your eternity.

Here’s a good place to begin. I sincerely hope that you'll check it out. 

Here's another wonderful 19th century hymn. It was written in 1832 by Frenchman H. A. Cesar Malan, and is set to music published in 1849 by Englishman-turned-American Joseph E. Sweetser. Why isn't this lovely song in every hymn book?