I imagine the dead waking, dazed, into a shadowless light in which they know themselves altogether for the first time. It is a light that is merciless until they can accept its mercy; by it they are at once condemned and redeemed.
It is Hell until it is Heaven.
Seeing themselves in that light, if they are willing, they see how far they have failed the only justice of loving one another; it punishes them by their own judgment. And yet, in suffering that light’s awful clarity, in seeing themselves in it, they see its forgiveness and its beauty, and are consoled. In it they are loved completely, even as they have been, and so are changed into what they could not have been but what, if they could have imagined it, they would have wished to be.
― Wendell Berry, A World Lost
When the merciless light contains a rainbow, we know we will be all right.
Even if we deserve no mercy
Even if the heaven we have reached for feels unattainable
Even if it is unimaginable we can be changed to what we wish we could be
There is mercy, there is promise, there is grace.
We are loved completely.