Heaven, Here We Come!

Man eating delicious homemade pita. Photo Credit: Este Stollman.

“It’s heaven!” Most people who say this aren’t hearing a Bas Kol or the bells of Cherubim. Instead, they’re probably hit with a waft of delicious-smelling cookies upon returning home from work, or as they collapse into their down pillow kingdom (otherwise known as a bed), or squish the cutest cheeks on a baby (because we know they love that).

It’s heaven or it’s like heaven is a funny expression because usually we compare our experiences to what we already know. And here it’s the reverse: We’re experiencing something and comparing it to something that we haven’t yet experienced—that with G-d’s help (as I’m sure He’s pretty picky) we all will!

It tastes like heaven, it smells like heaven is all wonderful to shout out (“Oh my gosh! It’s hea-ven!”), but who says that the next world will have a chocolate lava aroma right when we get in or that being in the presence of G-dliness will be as rich and decadent as a scoop of Coldstone ice cream? Honestly, that stuff is so good, I get fat just thinking about it!

The irony of comparing things to what comes next (rather than to what comes first) is more commonplace than we think: as we stroll through the park on a cool spring day (“Whoa! Those flowers smell like fresh laundry!”), watch the presidential debate (“Wow! He’s just like the SNL character!”), or tasting Bubby’s brisket (“If this isn’t Gan Eden, then what is!”).

Maybe the last example isn’t so ironic because after all, this world is called an עולם הדמיון, a world of fleeting comparisons, a world that is truly just a reflection or a symbol of the next. As described in the Sefarim—also a funny expression because anything of a Judaic nature is written down somewhere, so there’s really no chiddush in saying that—we can use our experiences to teach us about the World to Come: concepts like the sweetness of being enveloped in HaShem’s Shechinah, sitting among the angels and the angels among men, and the purity of learning without any material needs.

As a side note, the difference between Heaven (Gan Eden) and the Next World (Olam HaBah), as I have already used both terms, is that the first comes after we pass and the second comes after Moshiach—two separate concepts that are frequently confused and used interchangeably. (Also in The Sefarim.) Either way, comparing our lives to these concepts makes sense because our world is made to help us understand what is beyond human comprehension.

So yeah, maybe I really don’t know what heaven feels like or will be like entirely, but comparing my cozy blanket and marshmallow-like sofa to it certainly gives my life more meaning, in knowing that there is something great to come. Like when I smell my mother’s challah warming up in the oven Friday night and all that hard work she kneaded into it, I certainly think of Heaven. We should just bottle up all our best stuff yet and come out with a new fragrance and call it Gan Eden. (Brought to you by all Yiddishe Mamas.)

So the next time you have your wife’s or husband’s (to be fair) To’ameha before shabbos and exclaim to his or her delight – “This is HEAVEN!,” remember that the afterlife will probably be just as good and maybe even better.