Rebecca Springer’s Intra Muros is not Scripture. Say that first, or you will use a sick woman’s dream as a doctrine. It is a 19th-century vision of heaven written from a bed, and it has comforted more grieving parents than most systematic theologies.
She describes babies who are still babies, which means you still get to throw them in the air. That line alone is why the book survives. People do not need a map of the New Jerusalem as much as they need to know love is not unemployed on the other side.
Take the pictures. Leave the extra-biblical furniture. The Bible already said eye has not seen. Springer just tried to sketch the edge of it.
Rating: four stars for comfort, one withheld because heaven is not a Victorian novel. What a mighty God we serve, even so.
