All the way to heaven IS heaven.
~Catherine of Siena

At a workshop over the weekend, I was reminded of this statement by a 14th century nun who is one of the patron saints of Italy, sharing this stage with St. Francis of Assisi. It is one of those bold statements, short and to the point, that can catch you off guard and find you scratching your head to understand its depths. ‘All the way to heaven IS heaven.’ Seven words that can allow room for a person, if they choose, to ruminate for hours and in the end define a personal theology.

In the workshop I attended, we were handed small slips of paper with quotes. Our job was to basically repeat the quote and then, uninterrupted, bring that quote to life by speaking it as if the words were our own. Some might say, we were to preach a sermon on the words using the quote as the sacred text for our inspiration. I did not receive this quote but another person around my table did. Yet, it is the one that stuck with me, the one that burrowed itself under my skin.

Perhaps this has happened through an alignment of several things. One is that I am reading Marcus Borg’s latest book Speaking Christian in which he does a wonderful job of explaining the many ways we have interpreted and misinterpreted the original meanings of many of the words used in the Bible. Heaven or eternal life being just two. And the second is that we are coming up on this Sunday’s celebration of All Saints Day. The word ‘heaven’ plays a big role in both.

Those who sat around my table on Saturday were not rule followers so, while we were instructed not to have conversation about our quote, we did anyway. Mostly we asked questions. What do you think when you speak of heaven? What do you believe about it? What did Catherine mean? Do you believe her words to be true?

In an attempt to answer our own questions, I began to think of the times when I had experienced a little slice of what could only be described as heaven, a time of finding a home with the Holy. It had come in the simple acts of a shared meal or the breathtaking view of a sunrise over a shimmering body of water. It had come as I sat at the bedside of an older one dying or cradled a new born in my arms. It had come in through the gasps of air from deep, belly laughs and the tearful gasps of sorrowful sobs. All moments of heavenly experience. All moments of finding myself at home with the One who breathed me into being.

Perhaps I love Catherine’s statement because she does does not try to explain what or where this heaven is. She instead invites us to look for the moments of heaven that brush up against us or get smack in our face every day. It seems to me that when we do this we are less likely to worry about how to ‘get into’ heaven and more likely to reach out and touch it. Choosing this path might ultimately make for a more heaven-filled life.

This Sunday we will name those who have gone to experience what it means to be at home with the Holy One in a way that is pure mystery to most of us. It is only something that can be known on the far side of the veil. It is my prayer that we will say their beloved names with confidence that they are indeed held by this One who brought them to living and now holds them in mystery. I hope we will also remember fondly all the ways in which ‘all the way to heaven WAS heaven’ for them. Perhaps in our remembering we will remind ourselves to be awake to the heaven that comes our way this day and every day.