While it’s difficult to be dogmatic about what our day-to-day lives will be like in Heaven, it’s always fun to speculate! A lot of us wonder, Will there be animals in Heaven?, or, Will I know my loved ones in Heaven?, but what about space exploration? Will we be able to visit our neighboring planets—or distant galaxies, for that matter—safely and without fear?
Again, it’s difficult to be precise because we don’t have much information about what the new heaven and new earth will be like—or even a thorough understanding of our future glorified selves—but if we look to Eden as a model, we find flora and fauna and rivers and physical features we’re familiar with. God doesn’t have to stick to that same model when he makes all things new (Revelation 21:1–7), but he certainly could.
The Case for Yes
Sure, why not? Our heavenly bodies will be immortal and imperishable (1 Corinthians 15:42). We can stand atop the Olympus Mons or swim to the bottom of the Marianas Trench (assuming they still exist) without fear of catastrophe. After all, it’s sin that brings the penalty of death (Romans 5:12), and we will be sinless! Perhaps in our future state we will be so protected by God that we can venture to places we can only dream about today. What a fantastic way to experience God’s indescribable creative power!
Our Milky Way galaxy is estimated to be 105,700 light years in diameter. And beyond it lie countless other wonders stretching out into infinity. In our current finite condition we could never hope to cross the vast distances that deep space exploration requires. But what is 105,700 light years when compared to eternity? So what if space is infinite? Time is no longer a constraint if we live forever.
Will we need still life support systems beyond our home world? That’s impossible to say, but we probably won’t care how long it takes to get where we’re going. And we will be filled with awe and worship every step of the way!
The Case for No
As far as we know, Adam and Eve in their original sinless states had no desire to ever leave the garden in which their Creator placed them. And why would they? This was an environment perfectly suited to their every need—both physical and spiritual. It was only when they were tempted by an outside force did they ever consider that they were entitled to more than what God had already supplied.
God has made us naturally curious, and that’s a wonderful thing. Being curious has lead our race to marvelous innovations to better our lives and a better understanding and appreciation of Creation. But, like all our other qualities, our curiosity can be sinful if we’re not careful. We have to be honest with ourselves: Does our curiosity come from a place of holy awe and wonder or is it jealousy curiosity?
Today, the Venusian atmosphere will both crush and melt us. If we’re thinking clearly, we would come to the inescapable conclusion that Venus is not for us. In fact, most places in God’s creation are off limits to our fragile bodies. But our intellects are marred by sin and we’re not thinking clearly and so those restrictions eat at us. Do we really need to know what the surface of Venus looks like, or do we want to know only because we know God knows and he hasn’t told us? That’s jealous curiosity.
Such was the downfall of our first parents in Genesis 3. The desire to know the things God knows outweighed the desire to respect God’s boundaries and we have been suffering the consequences ever since.
Like Eden, in Heaven we will be restored to our original sinless state but with the added bonus of also being free from temptation. Never again will the Serpent whisper suggestions in our ears that we deserve better than what we have. We will not experience envy, jealousy, greed, selfishness, or any of the other negative emotions that cloud our present judgement. Free from sin, our God-given curiosity and intelligence will not trespass into areas that are reserved for God alone (Deuteronomy 29:29). We will better respect those boundaries because we will better understand why they exist.
While it may seem inconceivable now that we won’t be drawn to run our fingers through Saturn’s rings if given the chance, we may find it pales in comparison to unfiltered fellowship with our Savior. For all of us who wonder what Jesus’s laugh sounded like, or what his clothes smelled like, or whatever else, to then be able to stand by his side and talk with him and enjoy him forever, everything else takes second place—a distant second place.
What do you think?
