Already and Not Yet Heaven
Two reasons to die
There are many reasons to die, but two reasons pertaining to our relationship to heaven stand out to me now.
First, there is the fact that heaven is not yet, and that in order to get there it is necessary to die first. Death is prerequisite to heaven; therefore we are justified in desiring death, in order that we might attain to heaven sooner. This is the first and more obvious way in which heaven gives us a reason to die. Where eschatology and mystical theology converge, one might remember that No one can see me and live, and therefore know that in order to see God it is necessary first to die, not only physically but spiritually: to die to oneself. The realization of contemplation itself depends on such a death.
Second, there is the fact that heaven is, in some sense, already here and now. The Kingdom of God is among us. This gives us cause to say, with Simeon, Nunc dimittis: Now let thy servant depart in peace, O Lord, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation. That is, now that I have tasted and seen the sweetness of God, it is enough for me, I need nothing more; there is nothing left in this life for me; I can die freely and contentedly, for my one desire has been fulfilled. In a more real way than we can imagine, Catholics believe this is actually the case with the Eucharist: in the Eucharist, God has become present to us in his very substance, even if in a hidden form. It is practically — even literally, not metaphorically — the same thing as heaven.
Of course, these two reasons may in fact come down to the same thing: the desire to lose oneself utterly in contemplation of the Lord. Such a loss of self is ultimately no different from death, whether it takes place before the act of contemplation as its prerequisite, or after contemplation as a kind of effect of its effusive satisfaction of all desire — or it is in fact the same thing as contemplation.
To desire God is a simple thing, a simple desire, which we ought to be careful not to confuse with the desire for resurrection unto an afterlife. The desire for God is not the same as the desire to live forever. The prayer of one who desires God is the prayer of one who insists: Lord, it is enough for me that you give yourself to me. I do not ask to live forever, but only to look on your blessed face even for a mere moment, even through a glass darkly, even (as with Simeon) only in the face of a child, even (as in the Eucharist) only in a piece of bread. And indeed, God has so given himself to me, and is giving himself to me, here and now, already. It is enough, Lord. Thank you.


