After a long and very emotionally draining week, my wife and I have returned home. We’re glad to see the girls, glad to see the dog, glad to sleep in our own bed.

Thanks to all of you who provided support through your prayers, condolences and other help. We’re hoping to get back to something like normal next week.

I just sent this email out, but in case you’re not on the list or it gets blocked or whatever:

Friends, 

This morning, just after 10:00am Pacific Time, Jill’s father — Harold Dean Foley — passed away. As many of you know, Jill has spent a lot of time in California tending to him over the past 18 months. We are glad she had the opportunity to have a couple of weeks with him recently, when he was lucid and communicative. We are also glad that we were able to fly here yesterday. She was with him, at his bedside, this morning when he died.

Thank all of you who have made it possible for her to spend so much time dealing with this. You have watched our children, walked our dog, driven us to and from the airport, assisted us financially, emotionally and spiritually. We are truly blessed to have such a wonderful support network as you.

At this point in time, we’re unsure of what the next few days will hold. He did not want any sort of memorial service. We will be out here until his affairs have been settled.

There’s more than a physical component to the phrase “naked and unashamed” in the description of life in Eden. I wanted to start there, because Christians haven’t always given enough thought to the physical aspect of their origins or the destiny. We’ll probably talk more about it later, but for today I want to move on to talking about something else implied in the phrase.

The first man and woman had an ideal existence. They lived in comfort and security in a garden. Their every need was supplied. They had no fear of their environment — not even the animals sharing their living space. They were even comfortable in their own skin.

And — this is huge — they were not afraid of one another. There were no secrets, no hidden boxes of old love letters from that college fling, no receipts kept in a box, no password-protected emails, nothing that could come out that would damage their relationship. They were completely known by one another, and they were completely accepted by one another.

That’s an exceedingly rare combination.

I confess: I keep secrets. I hide things about myself that I don’t want known. I spin things to make myself look better, smarter, more important.

What’s worse is that I’ve come to a place where I do these things routinely — without thinking about it, without feeling bad about it.

My reasoning is that if people really knew me, really knew the real me, they probably wouldn’t accept me the way I am.

I know this is how I am with other people. As I learn more about people, I don’t just discover the things that endear them to me; I also discover the quirks that become faults that become all I can see about them. My focus intensifies upon the elements I once found charming but now find intolerable. The more I know about a person, the easier it is to reject them sometimes.

Knowing this about myself, and considering myself to be normal (a classic mistake), I carefully choose which parts of myself I will reveal, based on what I think will be most appealing and acceptable to others.

As a consequence, I actually hinder others from truly knowing, truly accepting, truly loving me.

See, you can only be loved to the extent you are accepted. And you can only be accepted to the extent that you are known. I understand these things intellectually. I even understand these things emotionally. Yet, I cannot seem to force myself to fully disclose myself.

I’m working on it. And my relationships have flourished as a result.

But in the beginning, Adam and Eve didn’t have to work on it. It came as naturally for them as breathing in and breathing out.

And in the life to come it will be just that easy for us, too.

Contrary to the idea expressed recently in one of the comments, we won’t be so awe-struck by God that we fail to notice the people around us. I tend to think we’ll be so awe-struck by God that we are finally able to really notice the people around us, to see them the way God has seen them all along. Then will we return to the beauty and simplicity of being both completely known and completely accepted.

Now, again, how is this thought similar or different from how we’ve traditionally thought of heaven?

Growing up I was ashamed of my body. See, I wasn’t just thin; I was skinny.

Skinny as a rail. Skinny as a post.

I tried everything. I tried drinking potions and eating extra helpings. Nothing worked; I was skinny.

This was especially difficult since I grew up near the beaches of Southern California. We were expected to spend a considerable amount of time with our shirts off, but I knew that I looked a lot better with my shirt on — and a sweater on top of that.

I was an autumn living in the land of eternal summer.

Eventually, a solid workout regimen combined with my natural body chemistry slowing down to produce some results. In other words, I filled out. And I was proud of it. I’d certainly worked hard enough. I actually looked good with my shirt off. I had muscles in my shoulders and chest. You could make out my abs. I began to like my body.

But that was a while ago. I’ll be 38 soon, and — much to my chagrin — I haven’t darkened the door of my local gym in some time now. A couple of weeks ago I watched the Bourne trilogy, Batman Begins and 300 in rapid succession. A friend of mine asked me what I thought of all those movies, and my first response was, “I realized I’m in terrible shape.”

Every man in Sparta has eight-pack abs. I have the beginnings of a pony keg strapped around my waist.

I’m back to being ashamed of my body.

And all of this has added a certain nostalgic touch to the phrase “naked and unashamed”.

Just another something we’ve lost since the Fall. And one more thing we’re promised to return to in the life to come.

The phrase certainly means more than what I’ve just been talking about. It has to do with more than just body image. It also has to do with a man and a woman with no secrets hindering their intimacy. It contains elements of their psychological and emotional relationship, but it’s physical as well. And as much as I am a psychological and emotional person, I’m also physical.

As you think of the life to come, the life you’ve been promised, which elements of being “naked and unashamed” are most appealing to you?

In the beginning, God created everything there was to create, meticulously planning a special place, a beautiful garden, and setting the man and his wife there. He strategically waited until everything else was in place before creating people — not only to demonstrate that humans are the pinnacle of his creation but also because he didn’t want these pesky creatures telling him where to put stuff!

He wanted it clear from the beginning: He made all this stuff without our help. And it wasn’t just good; it was very good.

The man and his wife enjoyed such an idyllic experience there — they had everything they could ever want. They were in the perfect place, the perfect setting perfectly suited for them.

Then it was lost in a moment, with one decision, one action. And we’ve been trying to get back there ever since.

I maintain that there are clues to our destiny to be found in our origin. We were created for Eden, and we are headed for Heaven. Could to two be similar, even one and the same?

One of the most frequently overlooked aspects of Eden is how humans fit with nature. We have no reason to believe there was any such thing as a “natural disaster” in the Garden. Think about that.

No fire. No flood. No tornado or hurricane. No mudslides or earthquakes. No drought conditions. No scarcity of food. No thorns or thistles. No ravenous, wild animals threatening to tear you limb from limb. No poisonous snakes or stinging mosquitoes. No global warming or global cooling.

What must it be like to never fear for your safety? To never look at dark clouds gathering and think, “We should seek shelter from the coming storm”?

Adam and Eve were one with nature. Actually, they understood that there is no such thing as “nature” — nothing just happened “naturally” for them. It all came from the hands of a benevolent Creator. They were one with his creation because they were one with him.

That’s just a part of what we’ve lost since the Fall.

That’s just a part of what we’re promised as citizens of the Kingdom of God.

This weekend’s question is this: How is this similar to or different from the typical description of Heaven?

I wonder if we think about Eden enough.

Animals often have some sort of instinctual drive to go home, back to the land of their birth. Salmon expend tremendous energy to return to the waters where they were hatched so they can spawn and eventually die. Turtles, birds and other animals have an instinctual drive the leads them to explore the wide world and, ultimately, return to their homeland.

In a sense, then, origin and destiny are inseparable. In some way, they are one and the same.

Could this be what the writer of Ecclesiastes meant when he said God has set eternity in our hearts? We long to return to Eden, to that idyllic place where there is no fear, no shame, no hurt.

If we fail to ponder what life was like for the first man and woman in the Garden of Eden, we’ll fail to recognize what was lost. We’ll fail to recognize how damaging the effects of sin and the fall have been on humanity. Worse, we’ll fail to appreciate the invitation that has been extended our way and the promise that has been made to return us to our true home.

Thinking about life for Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, how is their experience similar or different from what you imagine heaven to be like?

I’m allergic to dust.

Technically, I’m allergic to dust mites, but you know what I mean. When dust gets stirred up I start sneezing my head off. When I unpack my winter clothes, I always have to wash them before I put them on — otherwise I’ll be stuffed up for days.

What’s fascinating to me about this is that, in some sense, I’m made of dust. Does that mean that I’m really allergic to myself?

Computer chips are made of dust. Technically, they’re made of sand, but you know what I mean. And yet the mortal enemy of computer chips is…dust. In fact, computer manufacturing companies go to great lengths to keep dust away from these tiny, valuable pieces of silicon that have revolutionized the way we do just about everything on planet earth. They spend vast sums of money to create what are called “Clean Rooms” — rooms where no dust particles float through the air with the potential to contaminate.

You could say that when God created planet Earth he created a “Clean Room”. It was called The Garden of Eden.

But something happened.

Until we realize just what was lost on that fateful day we’ll never understand the state in which we currently find ourselves. And we’ll never fully appreciate the scope of the promise God has made to us: to one day return us to the ultimate Clean Room — Heaven.

This is what we’re going to talk about for the next few days.

For now, I’d love to hear your thoughts about heaven. What do you imagine when you think of heaven? What do you most look forward to? What questions do you have about it?

N.T. Wright says, “Preaching is something dangerously public that emerges from something intensely private.”

I just posted 16 new sermons in the “Listen” section of the website. There will be a few more coming in the next week or so.

We’re also working on getting these available as podcasts.

Faith 2.0 is a 501(c)3 non-profit ministry, so anything you’d like to prayerfully give would be greatly appreciated. Website updates, podcasts, putting food on the table to feed my family — these kinds of things aren’t always cheap!

Also, I still have several weekends in the spring (summer’s almost all the way booked) when I would be available to come speak at your church, school or corporate event. If you’re interested, fill out the speaking request form, and I’ll get back to you.

I’m going through a rough time lately. I’m frustrated with God. I’m trying to figure out what in the world I’m supposed to be doing. Ever been there?

Every prayer (and there are many) seems to begin the same way: “God, I don’t know what you want me to do!” Ever been there?

I’m bored. I’m restless. I’m being under-utilized. But I don’t want to just jump into something because I’m bored or restless or feeling under-utilized. I want to make sure whatever it is that I jump into next is the right thing.

Ever been there?

But this is what struck me today: God doesn’t just call me to be a worker or a servant, someone who runs around and does things for God. He wants me to do stuff, but that’s not the primary calling on my life. My primary calling is to be his friend, to grow in my intimacy with God.

That’s an important thought for me, because it helps answer my recurring question. It’s not an easy answer. It’s not a comfortable answer. It’s a very frustrating answer because it goes against my nature, and I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who has ever been there.

So, here’s what I’m going to think about today, and I invite you to think about it with me:

Imagine asking God, “What do you want me to do?”

Now imagine God answering, “Come closer.”

Jesus is many things, and talking about being friends with him brings up some angst in some folks. Jesus is God, and — as such — we are to worship and submit to him.

But one of the distinctive things about Christianity — something that separates Christians from, say, Muslims — is that we believe our God came near. He’s not just way out there, totally “other”, beyond the azure blue concealed from human sight. He’s close. He’s willingly drawn near to us. He’s called us to be more than servants; he’s called us to be friends.

A Savior is someone you need.

A King is someone you respect.

A Master is someone you obey.

Jesus is all of these things. But he’s more. He’s a friend.

A Friend is someone you know. That’s the real difference. And it makes all the difference in the world.