Our generation might be the one to see it: the Messiah invading the skies on the clouds of heaven, flashing like lightning from the east to the west, his feet alighting upon the Mount of Olives.

However—dare I say it—our lives might end like those of our ancestors. We pray, we long, we strive every day for the fulfillment of God’s promises. In the end our children lower us into the earth with that same unsatisfied longing in their hearts.

Consider the fathers and mothers of our faith: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel, and Leah. They pioneered faith in God in an otherwise dark and barbaric world. At every turn of their lives, God repeated his promises to them, and they went to the grave still treasuring those unfulfilled promises.

When we die, our souls depart this world. The Bible promises that at the end of days, the earth will experience a flurry of divine intervention—some frightening, some exhilarating. As terrifying as the apocalypse sounds, there will be something satisfying about it. Imagine experiencing firsthand the culmination of everything and the proof that what you strived for was real and worth it.

God made grand covenants and assurances, and he caused his people to suffer and strive for them. It would not be fair to deny them the satisfaction of seeing it all come together. Accordingly, we have faith that in the afterlife, we will be able to observe God’s plan as it unfolds. Will we be detached observers, peering down from heaven as if watching a baseball game from the grandstands?

The Jewish faith tradition and the New Testament answer this question in one accord. The faithful overcomers of ages past will not be in the nosebleed section; they will have front-row seats. This is because the coming of the kingdom of heaven will include one of the greatest displays of God’s power: the resurrection of the dead.