The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena,

whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood.

Teddy Roosevelt

What will it be like when you die? Not the death itself, but the initial moments of your life-after. Have you thought about that? I don’t do it in a macabre way. I do it because how you view this moment is quite telling of how you view your God.

I know I am completely wrong in what it will actually be like, but I think the sense of it is close.

I picture a crowded coliseum. An enormous crowd in hushed anticipation staring at the entrance, waiting. The silence builds. Out of the dust and haze given off by the setting sun shining through the entrance, comes a solitary figure. He is limping, broken and battered from the life he’d lived up to that point. He is panting heavily under the weight of the armor and other burdens he is carrying.

The crowd erupts in excitement for this newcomer. He looks around in amazement and his posture changes; he stands a little taller. A few people come out of the tunnels and relieve him of the various bundles he has strapped to his back. He gladly gives them up.

Spurred on by the joy of the crowd, this man begins a victory lap around the coliseum. He begins to peel off the armor that has kept him safe his entire life. He picks up speed as he does so. Beneath this hard exterior, the man is scarred and pierced. The limp is still there, but it is less noticeable because of the moment. Finally, this battle-hardened gladiator removes the mask which has hidden his true self.

The crowd cheers even more enthusiastically. The man, freed from his burdens, begins an awkward jog. He holds his side, supporting an unseen wound. He is wearily smiling, his other fist held high in triumph.

He is celebrated, not for his athletic prowess or his accomplishments in battle, but simply because he is loved. He made it through life with successes and failures and kept going.

This is a celebration of life, not accomplishments. It is a celebration of the dignity and respect of this single person. Of course there will be other celebrations, but for now, it is his turn. This is the moment when this soul feels its worth.

He finishes his victory lap to the cheers of the heavenly host, then makes his way to the center of the arena. Three figures stand in applause, waiting. They are all smiling. Delight radiates from them. As this man approaches the three, he collapses into their arms, exhausted both physically and emotionally.

The three circle around him and the crowd falls silent once again. This is not the hush of worry or of something gone wrong. It is the hush of expectancy; of excited silence; of reverent awe.

At last, the Triune God steps back and reveals the soul, clothed in white and radiating joy. The crowd again erupts in celebration for the life that has been lived.

There will be time for the uncomfortable reconciliation and redemption, but that is not now. This is the time for the soul to awake to the knowledge of his value; to fully understand how much he is loved and welcomed to this place.