Resurrection

 “Our body will be perfect in Heaven.”

Resurrection in perfection. A source of hope for a lot of people. For me. I don’t know. 

Now if you’re of a tradition or belief that is purely spiritual or based in reincarnation then his may not resonate with you. But if you are of a faith in bodily resurrection and restoration go ahead and stick around. I hope this doesn’t infuriate you. It’s just something that’s been jumping up around me for some time.

See the idea of a resurrection in perfection frightens me. Not because I fear resurrection, no because of what perfection means to others. And what that may strip from people. 

I’ve been taught from a young age that when we die, we all get resurrected in time. And at that resurrection all of our aging, infirmities, weaknesses, injuries etc will be taken from us.

The first time I broke a bone that sounded amazing. When I got chicken pox and acne scars I was elated. Ditto with the stretch marks from my growth spurts. 

The idea that all of that pain, embarrassment, and imperfection being gone. Wow. But then the questions started.

I’m going to knock the biggest one first. It doesn’t directly affect me as much. But there was talk of the reversal of the curse of Cain or the Lamanite curse. Dark skin. Race. Being perfected and removed. I don’t think that’s actually how it works, but it illustrates what some people view as imperfection and what some people view as inherent. And how problematic that can be.

I’ve often wondered, will my extra thumb be restored to its former glory, or deleted entirely. In its current state it’s a literal source of pain. But it’s a huge part of who I am. But what is perfect?

Same with scars, lines, birthmarks, vitiligo. Those imperfections to many are the stories of our lives. The history. 

Same with our brains. The mind body connection is real. Our neurology plays a huge factor into who we are. There are works of art and literature that wouldn’t exist with ADHD, PTSD, depression, even autism. I know a lot of my own experience has been shaped and filtered by both my mental health and the uniqueness of my brain. Without it I wouldn’t be who I am. And that includes a lot of things that other people define as mental or moral failings. One’s sexuality comes to mind. An erasure of that seems to fail or deny the experience and existence of so many people.

I don’t know how it’s all going to shake out. What I do know is that we will retain who we are from one life to the next. I do know Christ retained his scars. Now I don’t think most of us are equal to Jesus. But we bear our marks through our bodies too, and our minds. If perfection erases too many of those things the uniqueness the purpose of a journey through this life is lost.

I don’t know how it’s going to shake out but I hope that the perfection in resurrection is in the eye and experience of the resurrected not necessarily in the eye of beholders. What makes me the best version of myself; the most whole; would probably be imperfect (or perhaps torturous) to others. And guess what. That’s a ok. That diversity of experience is import and a strength. I’m trying to have faith about that.