If you’d prefer to avoid all things political, the next couple of weeks are going to be a real bummer, for you. The White House isn’t up for grabs in the midterm elections, but candidates for local, state and national positions are slinging elbows and engaging in shout-fests as we come up on the November 3rd ballot-casting exercise. There’s a lot at stake: in fact, one Hollywood star was reputed to have said, “If the Republicans win the mid-terms, I will move out of this country and go live in Alaska.”

         Celebrity reactions to elections – both threatened and exercised – have brought to bear the reality that “home” can be a temporary status, subject to change. Elections have consequences, but so do stages of life. One recent survey found that 20% of Americans would like to permanently relocate to another country, and 14% of retirees are planning to do so in the next two years. Millions around the world appear to want to immigrate to the USA, while millions already here are considering their escape.

         One thing is certain: wherever one settles in the near term, there is a relocation date in their personal story that will land in their lifetime in the not-so-distant future.

         Far more important than the partisan conflicts that consume so much bandwidth in our modern conversations is the recognition of a time frame in our futures that will stretch beyond the limits of presidential cycles. The even-more-potent consideration has to do with the question most would prefer to avoid: where do you plan to be, 100 years from now?

         Based on the Pew Research Center’s conversations with 36,908 American grown-ups three years ago, only 86% believe that they’ll continue to exist beyond their mortal death. The 14% are in for a rude awakening (literally).

         When asked about Heaven, 67% believe that it exists, though their agreement with the headline does not suggest that two-thirds of Americans agree about the conditions that qualify someone for entry. Another Pew survey found that 39% of Americans believed people who do not believe in God could enter Heaven, while 32% said only believers could gain access. 

         Hell was definitely lower on the popularity scale for eternal consideration. Only 55% had room in their belief stack for Hell’s existence, but most limited the roster for retribution to the patently evil among us. Hitler and Stalin, serial killers and child traffickers would be expected, but the thought of “nice people” who had no relationship with Jesus missing Heaven and landing in Hell was a non-starter.

         Many Americans retain spiritual instincts. Belief in God, a soul, and an afterlife remains substantial even as religious affiliation and practice have changed. Heaven is more readily embraced than Hell. Hope for a positive eternal outcome is more culturally comfortable than the prospect of final judgment. Personal assurance often exceeds theological clarity. People may expect a favorable outcome without a settled understanding of why they should expect it or what their faith requires. Eternity frequently lacks practical urgency. Even people who affirm life after death may not allow that conviction to determine their priorities, relationships, moral decisions, or spiritual practices.

         Peter was still reeling from spending six weeks with Jesus, between His resurrection and His return to Heaven, when he was brought up before the religious hierarchy in Jerusalem for broadcasting the Gospel to the Jerusalem crowds. His explanation was pretty clear: “Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved” (Acts 4:12).

         You and I are positioned in our relational communities with the ability to change the agendas that are preoccupying thoughtful people. Should you vote next week? Absolutely! But, after that dust settles, it’s entirely appropriate to ask people where they’re planning to move, long-term!

         Shouldn’t we be inviting the people we care about to join us in our forever neighborhood?

 — Bob Shank