Thrones

continued

Portrayals of heaven by these same artists are not nearly so convincing. With its leaping flames and frenzied figures, hell is at least a lively place. Depictions of heaven, on the other hand, are strangely static. There stand the saints in regimented rows, gazing motionless at a solemn Christ, rigidly seated on a throne.

Every Christmas Eve, John and I tune in to the service broadcast around the world from King's College Chapel in Cambridge, England. Though the other music varies from year to year, the opening hymn is always the same: Cecil Frances Alexander's haunting "Once in Royal David's City," sung in the angelic treble of boys' voices. The last verse looks forward to heaven:

Not in that poor lowly stable,
With the oxen standing round,
We shall see Him, but in heaven,
Set at God's right hand on high,
When, like stars, His children crowned,
All in white shall wait around.

Waiting around. It seems to be the only heavenly activity painters and poets can envisage.

And waiting with such somber faces! Why, I wondered as I learned more about the Christian faith, should depictions of heaven be so grimly serious? Why not merrily alive? "If we aren't allowed to laugh in heaven," pronounced no less a theologian than Martin Luther, "then I don't want to go there."

Our sober-sides picture of heaven may be a carryover from an era of lengthy sermons and Sundays when "frivolous amusements" were forbidden. But as anyone who's been to a Jewish wedding knows, the Bible’s image of heaven as the marriage supper of the Lamb evokes a feast, a dance, a celebration, a shout of joy.

Angels can fly, someone has said, because they take themselves lightly. Everlasting bliss surely includes that absorbed contemplation of the Beloved portrayed in sacred art – but also mirth, merriment, high-spirited good humor! The Banquet of the Lamb will be fun!