I’m sitting on a beach on the North Shore of Oahu, feeling warm Pacific breezes on my face, sand under foot, a palm tree overhead, watching large waves roll in and thunder down, thinking … thinking about heaven.

Is this it?

For all you “Field of Dreamers,” it beats Iowa, I know that.

Not sure what heaven, with its mansions big and small, looks or feels like. If it’s anything like what God created on this island, living eternally there would be worth the effort — if that’s the way it works.

But I’m uncertain. For all the emphasis that most religions put on striving for heaven, working for heaven, seeking heaven, it sure seems to remain a mystical place that humans don’t know all that much about. People sometimes imagine gold streets, but does that really sound all that appealing?

Mormon founder Joseph Smith wrote it like this: “Could you gaze into heaven five minutes, you would know more than you would by reading all that ever was written on the subject.” He also said: “Men of the present time testify of heaven and hell, and have never seen either.”

I don’t really care to see or know hell. I have seen people be cruel to one another here in this existence, and that’s more than enough for me. Heaven? Finding what that’s like would be pretty cool. I hope it’s everything it’s cracked up to be.

Is it like Earth glorified? Whatever that means? Like this beach, with endless blue-turquoise waters? Like being on a mountain trail, with rocky peaks and verdant valleys all around? Is it like Switzerland? Is it like the fairways and greens framed in pine straw and azaleas at Augusta National?

If that’s what it looks like, what does it feel like? Is it like sinking a birdie putt on any of the greens on that golf course? No, really I want to know. Not badly enough to take my chances to exit here and go there by way of death’s door, but don’t you wonder?

According to the doctrine of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, there are three levels of heaven, three “kingdoms,” available to those who believe and behave a certain way. It’s said that the bottom heavenly tier is pretty much a breeze to get into. That kingdom is for the supposed less valiant. Then, there’s the middle tier for those who believe and behave well, I guess, but not quite enough for the highest realm. And then, the top kingdom, for those who believe and behave and act all proper, according to scripture, so much so that they can be blessed by living in the presence of God.

Since so many Latter-day Saints attempt to sync their daily living with that glorious aim of ascending to that Celestial level, what’s that like? What do you want it to look like?

Telestial and Terrestrial pondering

Would the bottom rung — known as the Telestial Kingdom — seem familiar, featuring a lot of what the stellar parts of Earth have? It’s said that all levels of heaven are better than what’s here. As mentioned, that sounds pretty inviting. As I’m in Hawaii right now, I’m not all that eager to leave. It reminds me of the quote often attributed to famed aviator Charles Lindbergh, who at the end of his life, living on Maui while fighting off a disease that eventually killed him, was told he could move to New York and have his time extended by doctors there. His response: “I’d rather live one day in Maui than one month in New York.”

Maui may not have been his literal heaven, but it was the place from where he wanted to step into it.

If any of the heavens is better than the best of life on Earth, does that mean even if we schlump our way through our time here, we still could be cruising through our next divine stop across heavenly seas in the equivalent of a $500 million yacht? Are there no weeds in the gardens there, no bugs on the windshields, no thorns on the roses, no bumps in the road, no commercials on TV shows, no bills to pay?

The middle kingdom, known as the Terrestrial, is even tougher to imagine. What’s better than the aforementioned? Would the sunsets be pinker, the lakes bluer, the fairways greener? Would every neighbor be friendly? Every deal be a win-win? Would the Jazz finally win an NBA title? Would Brother Jones’ church talk not be a bore? Would women be allowed to sit on the stand and even run sacrament meetings?

Celestial thinking

And what about the Celestial Kingdom? How mind-blowing would that be? Streets and sidewalks of platinum? Would every hallway in every house look like the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles or would that be overkill, the antithesis of what heaven’s penthouse should be? If there are many mansions of many dimensions drenched in God’s glory, what would you want yours to be like?

Maybe it has not so much to do with physical surroundings and more to do with feelings. If, as the Latter-day Saints believe, bodies will be perfected, not a single loss of a strand of hair on your head, what’s that going to be like? Flawless faces and beautiful bodies here, there, everywhere. Hard to picture, but perhaps not all that unpleasant. When you think of how much attention, time and money humans spend on appearances, maintaining, restoring or fixing them, maybe God figures that would be a solid sure to make everyone happy.

Some picture heaven to be like a grand family gathering, a family reunion. If so, how would that turn out? What are the pragmatics? A lot of family members love one another, but they can barely get through a Thanksgiving dinner without an argument breaking out. Does arguing have a place in heaven?

Some believe the upper reaches of heaven will be a place to continue to learn and develop and grow and create and serve. That sounds like a lot of work, a lot of commitment. Is that your idea of eternal bliss? Creating new worlds? Or was floating on a celestial raft in a heavenly pool never a part of the deal? Where do pleasure and paradise and passion end and boredom and listlessness and laziness begin?

I’m lounging on a beach on the North Shore in a state of semi-slumber, next to my bride of 43 years. And I have to confess, it feels sensational. If heaven is better than this, for the two of us, I’m all for it. But as fine as it is, I don’t want to lie in the sun and then in the shade of a palm tree forever. At the same time, I also don’t want to pull on the dungarees and work gloves to replace the shingles on the roof of the beach house either.

I wouldn’t mind gazing into heaven for five minutes to get a better idea of what we’re striving for here. On the other hand, I’m more than satisfied and gratified to stay right here on Earth, making of it what I can — a bit of heaven? — for as long as I possibly can.