Read My Journey to Heaven: What I Saw and How It Changed My Life Online

Authors: Marvin J. Besteman,Lorilee Craker

Tags: #Near-death experiences—Religious aspects—Christianity, #BIO018000, #BIO026000, #Heaven—Christianity, #Marvin J.Besteman (1934–2012)

My Journey to Heaven: What I Saw and How It Changed My Life (7 page)

BOOK: My Journey to Heaven: What I Saw and How It Changed My Life
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But I knew better. I knew where Peter really was. He was in that beautiful, beautiful place where I met him all too briefly, in the service of his Lord and King, perfectly fulfilled and content forever.

And I bet that whenever Peter got the chance, he hopped in a boat and sailed on the shiny waters of the sea I saw, just beyond the gate.

Wait a minute, old man . . . what sea are you talking about? This is the first we’ve heard of it.

Hang on there, friend. We’ll get to heaven’s sea in a minute. But first, let’s talk about keys, specifically, who holds the keys to the kingdom of heaven?

Peter, Demystified

Who had the man really been who greeted me at heaven’s door, beyond a well-known Bible character, canonized saint, and, oddly enough, the setup to countless jokes? (“A rabbi and a priest die and show up at the pearly gates, where they are met by St. Peter . . .”) You know what I’m talking about. We’ve all heard these jokes and maybe even told them.

Here’s a good one, for the sake of example, plus it’s funny:

As a young man, Norton was an exceptional golfer. At the age of twenty-six, however, he decided to become a priest, and joined a rather peculiar order. He took the usual vows of poverty and chastity, but his order also required that he quit golf and never play again. This was particularly difficult for Norton, but he agreed and was finally ordained a priest.

One Sunday morning, the Reverend Father Norton woke up and realizing it was an exceptionally beautiful and sunny early spring day, decided he just had to play golf.

So . . . he told the associate pastor that he was feeling sick and convinced him to say Mass for him that day.

As soon as the associate pastor left the room, Father Norton headed out of town to a golf course about forty miles away. This way he knew he wouldn’t accidentally meet anyone he knew from his parish.

Setting up on the first tee, he was alone. After all, it was Sunday morning and everyone else was in church!

At about this time, Saint Peter leaned over to the Lord while looking down from the heavens and exclaimed, “You’re not going to let him get away with this, are you?”

The Lord sighed, and said, “No, I guess not.”

Just then Father Norton hit the ball and it shot straight towards the pin, dropping just short of it, rolled up and fell into the hole. It was a 420-yard hole in one!

St. Peter was astonished. He looked at the Lord and asked, “Why did you let him do that?”

The Lord smiled and replied, “Who is he going to tell?”

Now, there’s a joke that hits a nerve with me, a golfer from a faith tradition that can sometimes make a big deal out of what its people do on Sunday!

But seriously, Peter’s legacy goes miles beyond the punch lines. How, for example, did he become a fixture in those pearly gate jokes in the first place?

We know that, over the years, a version of “St. Peter” has become a standard character in jokes, cartoons, comedies, dramas, and plays—all kinds of storytelling. This “character” almost always plays upon Peter’s role as the “keeper of the keys” of heaven, as told in Matthew 16:13–19:

When Jesus arrived in the villages of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “What are people saying about who the Son of Man is?”

They replied, “Some think he is John the Baptizer, some say Elijah, some Jeremiah or one of the other prophets.”

He pressed them, “And how about you? Who do you say I am?”

Simon Peter said, “You’re the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”

Jesus came back, “God bless you, Simon, son of Jonah! You didn’t get that answer out of books or from teachers. My Father in heaven, God himself, let you in on this secret of who I really am. And now I’m going to tell you who you are, really are. You are Peter, a rock. This is the rock on which I will put together my church, a church so expansive with energy that not even the gates of hell will be able to keep it out.

“And that’s not all. You will have complete and free access to God’s kingdom, keys to open any and every door: no more barriers between heaven and earth, earth and heaven.” (Message)

That’s it—the verse on which all of the stories and folklore about Peter at the gate is based. That’s why Peter has come to be depicted as an old, bearded guy who sits at the pearly gates, acting as a sort of hotel front-desk clerk who personally interviews entrants into heaven.

This view of Peter has been perpetuated through history, from Medieval artwork, where Peter is painted as a bald man with a long beard (usually there are keys in the paintings too, dangling from Peter’s hands or attached to his belt), to the 2004 movie
Millions
, where St. Peter appears to the main character, a young boy, and refers to himself as the “patron saint of keys, locks, and general security.”

I definitely didn’t see any keys on Peter, and he sure wasn’t bald like I am. He had all his share of hair and then some. He wasn’t sitting behind a desk and he didn’t toss off a one-liner, although he did seem like a man with a sense of humor.

Some people who have heard my story have been surprised to hear that Peter greeted me, because most Bible scholars agree that Jesus wasn’t actually referring to Peter as the gatekeeper of heaven. Rather, he was beginning to prepare his beloved disciples for the suffering that would soon come, and reaffirming their authority as his disciples. What Jesus meant, theologians suggest, was that anything done by Peter, or any of the disciples, in accordance with his will would have permanent power and validity, now and forever.

All I can tell you is what I saw and what I experienced, which was encountering Peter himself at the gates of heaven. In some ways, my encounter actually lines up with the theory that Peter acts as the front door man for heaven, or at least for the gate I went to. However, he seemed to me to be more of the designated greeter for that gate and for that day. He certainly wasn’t sitting at a desk with a sign on it: “Saint Peter: Admissions Desk. Ring the bell if no one is here.”

For sure, it’s not up to Peter who gets in and who doesn’t, no matter how many jokes and stories suggest it is. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: If you make it that far, you’re going to make it all the way into heaven. God and only God decides who and where, if and when.

Peter’s purpose was to greet me and make me feel welcome, and to check in the Book of Life to see if my name was in there
for that day
. Maybe God chose Peter for this mission—helping me figure out what was going on during my time in heaven—because he knew how much I had always liked him. It’s also likely that God knew we were evenly matched in the obstinate department, and Peter could handle this dogged Dutchman, especially when it came time to deliver bad news. Because when he opened the Book of Life for April 27 or 28, 2006, the name Marv Besteman was nowhere to be found.

6
The Book of Life

W
hen I got inside the massive doorway into heaven, there was an area I can best describe as an inner gate. It was like the ones we read about in Scripture, like the ancient gates that still exist in some parts of the world that have been inhabited for many centuries.

As my eyes swept from the left to the right, I saw a long stone shelf that extended about ten to twelve feet in either direction before sort of fading away in a kind of haze or mist. Piled on top of this shelf or table made of stones were books upon books upon books, stacked up three to four books high, all along the surface both left and right.

The stones were rugged and simple. They weren’t fancy in any way; rather, they were roughly cut and completely unpolished. It was almost like they fell off the side of a hill and someone said, “Leave them there.” I’m quite sure this bench of rocks was, well, rock solid, immovable, able to bear tons of weight. Yet it had a look of loose stones piled one on top of the other, natural and of-the-earth.

In fact, when Ruth and I took a cruise to Turkey, Greece, and Italy, the kind of gray ash stone we saw all over the Bible lands reminded me of the stones in heaven.

If you’ve ever been to that beautiful area of the world, you know exactly what I mean. When we traveled there in 2009, I was struck by how rocky and uneven the paths are. When you walk, you have to watch every step—it’s so bumpy. On a day trip to Ephesus, the place where Paul sent the book of Ephesians, I stumbled once and fell flat on my face. I thought I had broken my nose.

Not that I’m complaining, because as earthly trips go, this one was wonderful (though we did almost lose Ruth in the Vatican, but that’s a story for another day).

On the trip, I kept thinking about the letters delivered to the Romans, the Thessalonians, the Ephesians, etc.—letters written by the apostle Paul, transported by faithful servants, and then read in those very places in which I was walking. Were the letters read aloud to lots of people in coliseums? Or passed from believer to believer? Being in the Bible lands was so inspiring, in more ways than one.

I must confess, I couldn’t help but notice Greece had the most beautiful women I had ever seen. Ruth had to hold me back a little bit. I may have been seventy-five, bald, and falling on my face, but I wasn’t blind!

Back to heaven and the shelf in that inner sanctum, made of those coarse, jagged stones I saw all over the place in the Bible lands. The shelf was about three feet high, about up to my waist. The books stacked on top of it were about as thick as the Grand Rapids phone book, about two and a half inches. They were bound in what appeared to be ancient black cowhide, worn and antiqued, yet not falling apart at the seams. Like the stones, the books had the patina of ancient days, yet I knew somehow they were stronger and longer-wearing than any books on earth.

It never clicked that these books were the Book of Life, or as I discovered, really, the
Books
of Life, until Peter turned away from me and looked in a specific volume, searching for my name. Then I realized what these books must be, and what their glorious contents were all about.

Peter didn’t look through more than one book, nor did he riffle through the pages of the book he opened. He seemed to open it up at the right spot. He knew exactly where to look for my name.

When he opened up the Book, it was as long and wide as an atlas, about ten inches wide by twelve inches long. When Peter turned to look in the Book, he was about three feet away from me. I can’t tell you what language the book was written in, whether it was English, Aramaic, or some celestial language only written and read in heaven. I didn’t notice that, or the texture of the pages, or how fine the print was, or how small the font.

Why didn’t I notice these things? Well, I was a little distracted, let’s put it that way. The sights of heaven could hold your attention more than, say, a stunning hockey goal shot from the blue line, or an accident on the highway, or even the lovely ladies of Greece. I had a hard time focusing on the incredible thing happening three feet in front of me—one of Jesus’s disciples was looking me up in the Book of Life!—because just beyond that great man and those superb books was a whole new world, the world of heaven itself.

The Greatest and Biggest Roll Call of All Time

Before I saw it with my own two eyes, I thought the Book of Life was like a giant, small-print encyclopedia, like the ones I used to page through as a kid, looking up stuff about constellations and tree frogs and Burma. In my mind, the Book of Life was filled with names, millions and millions of names recorded with care, identifying those who are saved by grace.

I had always been a student of Scripture, studying God’s Word for my own spiritual nourishment as well as in my roles over the years as an elder at the churches we attended. But after going to heaven, and seeing some of the things God talks about in his Holy Writ, I wanted to take a closer look at what the Bible says about what I saw, including the Book of Life.

The Book of Life: A Deeper Look

The Book of Life is sacred to Christians as the great registry of those who will be joining the Father, his Son, and his Holy Spirit forever and ever in that perfect place. Christians are not the only ones who consider this book to be holy; it’s also a revered teaching in Judaism. In the Jewish faith, the Book of Life is called
Sefer HaChaim
in Hebrew, and is considered to be the book in which God records the name of every person who is destined for heaven.

The New Testament mentions the “book of life” eight times, and seven of those occur in the book of Revelation, in John’s vision of heaven. The other reference appears in Philippians 4:1–3, Paul’s closing call for faithfulness, loyalty, and unity among the church members in Philippi:

Therefore, my brothers and sisters, you whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord in this way, dear friends! I plead with Euodia and I plead with Syntyche to be of the same mind in the Lord. Yes, and I ask you, my true companion, help these women since they have contended at my side in the cause of the gospel, along with Clement and the rest of my co-workers,
whose names are in the book of life
.

Apparently, two women in the church, Euodia and Syntyche, were not getting along very well, as happens with everyone from time to time. But Paul refers to them anyway as co-workers in the cause of the gospel, as those who labored alongside him in his ministry, and servants whose names are written in the Book of Life. To me, this classifies the Book of Life as a record of the names of those who have eternal salvation.

Revelation

The other New Testament references to the Book of Life appear in Revelation, specifically in the apostle John’s vision of heaven. The first of the seven mentioned appears in a passage about the great white throne judgment:

Then I saw a great white throne and him who was seated on it. The earth and the heavens fled from his presence, and there was no place for them. And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and
books were opened. Another book was opened
,
which is the book of life.
The dead were judged according to what they had done as recorded in the books. (20:11–12)

Theologians tell us that the great white throne judgment described here is a judgment for unbelievers. Many Bible teachers believe that no one at that specific judgment has his or her name written in the Book of Life. What that means for sure, I don’t know. I wish I did.

Only the one who wrote those names in those books really knows. I do know that Scripture is clear that no true believer should doubt his eternal security in Christ.

I love what Jesus says about this in John’s Gospel:

My sheep recognize my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them real and eternal life. They are protected from the Destroyer for good. No one can steal them from out of my hand. The Father who put them under my care is so much greater than the Destroyer and Thief. No one could ever get them away from him. I and the Father are one heart and mind. (John 10:28–30 Message)

“No one can steal them from my hand. . . . No one could ever get them away from him.” That comforts me deeply, and I hope it comforts you as well. Many believers spend way too much time worrying that they won’t go to heaven when they die, that their names are not written in those ageless books I saw.

I wish everyone could have the same kind of preview of heaven I had, that each person saved by grace would feel safe and sure that their names are written in the Books. To me, the Bible is very straightforward on this matter, but not everyone interprets certain verses the same way. Some people point to Revelation 3:5 and their definition of “victorious” as “proof” that a person can lose his or her salvation:

The one who is victorious will, like them, be dressed in white. I will never blot out the name of that person from the book of life, but will acknowledge that name before my Father and his angels.

To me, the promise of Revelation 3:5 is obviously that the Lord will never erase a name: “I will never blot out the name of that person.” A “victorious” person is not someone who wins every battle against sin; if that were so, the Book of Life would be filled with blank pages. Rather, I firmly believe that this person referred to here is God’s precious child, who, through Christ, is ultimately triumphant over the temptations, trials, and evils of this world—in other words, one who is redeemed, safe, written in God’s roll call and destined to spend forever with him there.

I like the way
The Message
paraphrases this verse: “Conquerors will march in the victory parade, their names
indelible in the Book of Life
. I’ll lead them up and present them by name to my Father and his Angels.”

If you love him and have chosen him, you will be one of those conquerors, dressed in white, marching in the victory parade. You will be led by Jesus, his face lit up with a parent’s pride and joy, introduced by name to God the Father and his angels. Why? Because your name is indelible in the Book of Life! Yes, indelible—in other words, impossible to remove, etched, permanent, enduring forever.

God keeps good records. He knows his own, and he has set the names of his children for all time in his book.

God’s Muster Roll

The Book of Life has been referred to as “God’s Muster Roll” by people trying to wrap their minds around this divine volume, framing it in a way that’s understandable to our earthly brains. For those of you who don’t know what a “muster roll” is, it has a military connotation as an inventory, a roster, or a register of the officers and men and women in a military unit or ship’s company. Those searching for their ancestors who fought in the Civil War will be familiar with this idea; they would have to pour over hundreds and hundreds of dusty, brittle pages to find their relative’s precious name.

How much more prized is your name and mine, written in the Book of Life! In the Old Testament, this book is also referred to as the roster in which all the people who are considered righteous before God are recorded for eternity.

The prophet Isaiah talks about God’s holy remnant, his “branch,” a reference to all believers, being logged or classified as holy children of God: “In that day the Branch of the L
ORD
will be beautiful and glorious, and the fruit of the land will be the pride and glory of the survivors in Israel. Those who are left in Zion, who remain in Jerusalem, will be called holy,
all who are recorded
among the living in Jerusalem” (4:2–3).

The prophets Daniel and Malachi also prophesied in the Bible concerning the Book of Life. Daniel 12:1 promises that, in the endtimes, “your people—everyone whose name is found written in the book—will be delivered.”

Malachi had a different name for the Book of Life; he called it “the scroll of remembrance.” Writing about the remnant again, he wrote, “Then those who feared the L
ORD
talked with each other, and the L
ORD
listened and heard. A scroll of remembrance was written in his presence concerning those who feared the L
ORD
and honored his name” (3:16). Different translations call this the “book of remembrance.”

This passage is significant for a reason other than the beautiful imagery of a “scroll of remembrance.” It suggests that the Book of Life contains not only the names of those who will spend forever enjoying God’s presence in heaven, but also the good things we have done in his name.

Peter didn’t mention any of my good deeds, or bad ones, for that matter, when he searched for my name. He also didn’t say anything about the tears I had shed in my lifetime, which the Bible says are also recorded in the Book of Life. “You’ve kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights,” the psalmist writes in Psalm 56:8, “each tear entered in your ledger, each ache written in your book” (Message).

When the Roll Is Called Up Yonder

That day Peter was on a mission to look and see if my name was in the Book of Life, not for a week from then, or a year, or ten years, but for that day. Unlike the musty muster rolls of old-time military operations and wars, these record books weren’t yellowed and easily torn. They have lasted eons and will last eons more. From the dawn of time, one of those durable books has had the name Marvin Besteman inscribed in it, for a certain day and time known only to the Record Keeper. For God’s reasons, my name wasn’t in the Book of Life for that day.

Remember the old hymn “When the Roll Is Called Up Yonder”? It’s not sung so much anymore, though it probably should be. The lyrics express my heart so well: “When the saved of the earth shall gather over on the other shore, and the roll is called up yonder, I’ll be there.”

I took a peek at the “other shore,” but it wasn’t my time to have my name called. Next time I go, when that grand roll call is announced “up yonder,” I’ll be there. I’ll definitely be there.

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