If you knew you were going to live forever, would it change the way you live? If someone, a real authority on the subject, tells me that my life is never-ending, how will this life be different?

The most obvious thing that comes to mind is that the desperation fades. The clock doesn't tick quite so loudly. Birthdays, which can start to hurt some in a temporal life, don't hurt quite so much if at all. The madness of trying to squeeze everything into an already tight schedule gives way to a relaxed pace and a healthier nervous system. The anxious game of acquiring everything now seems a bit silly and in its place a wiser set of values inform our investments and expenditures of energy and resources. We don't need it all now. Come to think of it, maybe we don't need it. Come to think of it, maybe we don't need oh, some vital relationships to keep us connected; some meaningful labor to keep us growing and contributing; some on-going hobbies and recreations to keep us recreated and creating. Some stimulating exposures to keep us sharp and to stretch us. But the desperate pace, the desperate race, the desperate hunt, the quick desperate fear, gives way to a quiet confidence; a sense of knowing calm; the real peace. Unafraid.

But wait. That's too simplistic. There are still monsters out there. Big scary monsters. Even if I know the big monster of death is whipped and I'm going to live forever, there's still a lot of potential pain out there. Physical pain. Relational pain. Injustice. Warfare. Conflict. Abuse.

Well, what if someone, a real authority on the subject, tells us that those pains are not forever? What if the same authority who tells us that our lives can be never-ending also tells us that our pains are temporary? How would it change the way we live if we knew that while we will last, our pains won't last and that, one day, never-ending life will continue on in a pain free; war-free; tear-free way?

Well, I imagine it would free us from some of the desperation. If our bodies are racked with pain or stymied by limitations, maybe we can endure it without so much angst knowing that it's not forever. We might even learn to value the benefits of this temporary pain for our character, and value people more who live in the grip of chronic pain, or temporary limitations, and then infuse them with a greater sense of worth. If our relationships are splattered with offenses and insults and saturated in bitterness, or frozen by a refusal to forgive, maybe we can overlook and release and let go and heal and even, imagine, forgive…in light of how temporary all these skirmishes really are - even trivial in the big picture. And as for warfare, maybe we'd learn to choose our battles carefully, reserving hostile actions for the most noble causes where atrocity and injustice require bold, and even sacrificial resolve. Maybe if we knew that wars would one day end, we'd fight them differently, or less often, and only for the best of reasons. And maybe, if enough violent people could be exposed to the same hopes we have, they'd see their own lives in a new way and we all could get an early start on life without war.

Maybe if we knew that the big roaring monster called death has no power over us and that those nagging, biting monsters we call pain and conflict cause only temporary effects, we'd live in a new way. Fear would give way to a quiet confidence; a sense of knowing calm; a real peace. Unafraid.

Oh, but that's so simplistic. Because we live in relationship and we care about others, so many of our fears surround the pain and harms and deaths of those we love. Even if I'm going to live forever, and even if my pains are temporary, it kills me over and over again to see others suffer, and the real fear is that those I love most will suffer.

Well, what if the same authority who tells us we can live forever and the same authority who tells us our trials are not forever also tells us that helping the people around us to find hope and to endure hardship is what makes our life substantive and rich and meaningful? What if that's the thing - why we're here? Life's key? Those risk/reward investments we make in each other, daring to care, daring to be hurt, daring to be used for others and sometimes by them. What if relationship is the thing…

Well, I assume we'd be about it. We'd get to it. Not with a sense of desperation, but with a peaceful resolve that translates into every kind of positive persuasion; every kind of generosity; every kind of advocacy. I mean, we'd be busy, but on task.

Imagine. No threat of death. No permanence to pain. And a life of purposeful investment. Such a life. Out there, but unafraid.

In essence, that's the invitation, the call, the song, the story of Easter. A notable authority, wholly trustworthy, has told us we can live forever. To prove it, he walked in human flesh and faced death head-on. He conquered it, blew a hole right through the big, roaring monster of death, and invites us to walk into everlasting life with Him.

That same person told us, "In the world, you will have tribulation, but be of good cheer. I have overcome the world." In other words, these pains and trials aren't forever. He describes a new heaven and new earth, and all things new, and no crying or warfare or dying. Until then, he gives us tools. Words of direction and counsel. Prayer and the indwelling voice of the Holy Spirit. Friendships and the real help and accountability of the church. He gives us forgiveness and shows us, pleads with us, to offer forgiveness to others. He makes wisdom available and peace and joy for the asking. "Ask," he says. "Seek. Knock". We don't have to wallow in our suffering and we have no reason to give up on our relationships.

Finally, that same authority (you've figured out who I'm talking about. Shall we say his name?) gave us so much to do in this life. Love God. Love one another. Love your neighbor. Love your enemy. Free the captive. Visit the widow. Be my witness. Make disciples. Preach the good news. Heal the brokenhearted. Feed the poor. Restore the outcast. Leave the entanglements and obsessions of old sins and habits behind and live with purpose. Don't lay up treasures on earth, but lay up treasures in heaven. Find life by learning how to give it away. Serve one another. Give without asking for anything in return. And so on, enough to keep us engaged and well employed and more than rich for the rest of these lives - lives that will not end, by the way. So we can be unafraid.

Some of you know exactly what I'm talking about because you're getting there. How you think and feel about death has made all the difference in how you approach life. And how you think and feel about death is that it just doesn't have much power over you; and nether does pain. And neither have you allowed the stuff of life to carry so much power, and you've learned the art of forgiveness and you've found your sense of purpose in living for others. Hurray. Such a life. I'm getting there, too, slowly, gradually, steadily, with some starts and stops when I get forgetful or distracted by some exaggerated fear or some selfish whim. But I want it, and I know where to find it.

And I want it for all of you. Jesus wants this life for all of us.

"I have come that you might have life, and that more abundantly." John 10:10. "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies." John 11:25. "These things are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name." John 20:31

New life. Hopeful life. A different life.

Christianity Today came out with a disturbing article that suggests very little difference between the lives of most self-avowed Christians and others in the broader society. Similar divorce rates; similar patterns of philanthropy; similar biases and abuses (some even worse and more than the world). And the studies supporting these conclusions were done by Barna and Gallup, not only the most respected of pollsters but also outspoken Christians. This is not the world bashing Christians, but deeply concerned Christians asking, "How, in light of what we know; in light of who we know; in light of all the resources available to us; in light of scripture and clear teachings and accountable relationships - in light of the fact that we're going to live forever and we know it - how can we still be so broken and unresolved and afraid to forgive and prone to bias and abuse? How can it be?"

The most loaded, and hopeful, part of the article was the end. It says that for self-avowed Christians who actually have a "biblical worldview" (in other words, they don't merely call themselves Christians, but their way of thinking and living is informed and infused with core Christian truth) the statistics are radically different - lasting marriages, huge generosities (are 9 times more likely than the non-Christian to feed the poor), notable sacrifices, definable health.

To put it simply, for Christians who buy into the program - who read and know the story; who study the book; who really do pray enough to know God's heart; who have mentoring relationships and close knit Christian community; for those who have explored faith beyond the shallows and into the depths; click, click, click, click. Not always. Not completely. Not perfectly. But more. Much, much, more.

This is no surprise to most of us. Prolonged exposure to the person and teachings and influence of Jesus Christ is radically transformative. The things I wish all of us could understand is that this transformation is not toward some weird, radical form of religiosity, but toward life, joy, love, purpose, peace. Unafraid.

Here we are. Almost all of us, today. For some of us, maybe all of us, a change to re-up; to be numbered among those who not only believe enough to be self-avowed Christ people, but who buy into the program and really decide to be Christian as well as Christians. Let's start with the familiar and go forward together.