RED LETTERS

Eternal Life

I give them eternal life, and they will never perish,

and no one will snatch them out of my hand.

John 10:28

 

 

 

My grandmother once sighed that she couldn’t imagine heaven being worth it if she couldn’t stay married to my grandfather. He just smiled and said, “That’s because we don’t yet understand that everything in heaven is better than the very best things on earth.” He was right. A great and deeply romantic marriage is one of earth’s highest joys, but the relationships we will enjoy in heaven will be exponentially better—freed from possessiveness, sin, and limitation, and bathed in perfect love.

 

My grandfather’s gentle correction points us straight to the heart of Jesus’ promise in John 10:28: “I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand.” Spoken as the Good Shepherd, these words reveal one of Christianity’s greatest hopes. But what is eternal life? It is not an endless, empty extension of this life, nor a vague, shadowy existence without purpose. Eternal life is a vibrant, relational, transformative reality that begins the moment we trust Christ and stretches into eternity. Far from meaningless, it is the fullest possible life—marked by joy, security, and purpose.

 

Jesus is speaking in Jerusalem, using the image of sheep and shepherd. “Them” refers to His sheep—those who hear His voice and follow Him (John 10:27). The gift is personal, not generic. In Greek, eternal life is zoē aiōnios—not just endless time, but a higher quality of life altogether. Mere endless survival without depth would feel like a curse. What Jesus offers is infinitely richer.

 

At its core, eternal life is relational. Jesus Himself defines it: “This is eternal life: that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent” (John 17:3). To “know” here means intimate, trusting relationship—far beyond intellectual facts. An eternity of isolated drifting would be hell, not heaven. Instead, eternal life is unending communion with the God who is love itself. Augustine’s prayer still rings true: “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.” Eternal life is the final, complete rest of that restlessness.

 

The promise is also unbreakable. “They will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand.” In a world where bodies decay, relationships fracture, and accomplishments fade, Jesus gives indestructible life. The Greek word for “perish” (apollumi) means total ruin; Jesus says that will never happen to His own. This is no passive preservation—it actively frees us to live boldly, love extravagantly, and create freely, knowing our future is untouchable.

 

Crucially, eternal life starts now. “Whoever hears my word and believes… has eternal life and has crossed over from death to life” (John 5:24). Notice the present tense: has. A dying person can face the end with peace because they already possess life that death cannot end. Ordinary days become sacred when lived in the light of eternity—loving neighbors, caring for creation, seeking justice—because these things echo the age to come.

 

Some fear that hope in eternity breeds escapism. Scripture answers that eternal life is bodily and cosmic. Jesus’ resurrection—the first fruits—guarantees our own bodily resurrection. Revelation 21 pictures a new heaven and new earth where God dwells with us and wipes away every tear. That future hope energizes present faithfulness, not apathy.

 

Eternal life is also abundant joy. Jesus came that we “may have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10). The Greek word means overflowing, super-abundant life—intellectual, emotional, and spiritual. Eternity will be an endless adventure: exploring God’s creation, learning without limit, worshiping without weariness, loving perfectly yet freely (because sin alone distorts freedom). Blaise Pascal spoke of an infinite abyss in every human heart that only God can fill. Eternal life is that abyss finally, gloriously filled.

 

That is why Jesus can say there will be no marriage in the resurrection (Matthew 22:30) and still promise something infinitely better. Earthly marriage is a beautiful signpost, not the destination. In the age to come, every relationship—including the one my grandmother cherished most—will be perfected and expanded in the uncontainable joy of the Lamb’s marriage supper (Revelation 19:6-9).

 

Yet this life is not automatic. John 3:16 is clear: whoever believes in Jesus “shall not perish but have eternal life.” It is a gift of grace, received through faith, refused at eternal cost. That truth gives urgency to our days and fuels grateful mission.

 

In the end, eternal life is a dynamic, secure, relational reality that silences every fear of meaninglessness. It is knowing God intimately, living confidently in His grip, and tasting His abundant life now and forever. One day my grandmother will see that my grandfather was right. She will not miss marriage, because she will be swept up in a love so complete that every earthly joy, even the best of marriages, will feel like a faint shadow. And together they will laugh—fully alive, forever held in the nail-scarred hands that no one can snatch them from.

 

In a transient world, that is the ultimate hope: an existence brimming with divine significance that begins today and echoes into eternity.

Daryle Williams