Recently a friend asked me, “what do you think hunger will be like in the resurrection?” His question really got me thinking. We know that the resurrected Jesus was able to eat (see Luke 24:41-44), so presumably our resurrected bodies will be able to eat. But does that mean we’ll be hungry? Will we crave chocolate or binge on potato chips late at night? In the Millennium, will we go on a 2 a.m. Taco Bell run?

Will we have to count calories or precisely balance macronutrient percentages? I don’t know, but I doubt it. I don’t know if hunger will even exist in the resurrection, but one thing I am sure of is it will be different than the way we experience it now. From this point of view, these questions are not only fairly ridiculous, but also unimportant.

Similarly, sexual desire is an appetite (like hunger) that exists at least in part to ensure reproduction and the survival of the species (as food is necessary for the survival of the individual). Do these concepts apply to glorified and resurrected beings? I doubt it, but at the very least we should be humble enough to recognize that concepts like sexuality and reproduction will be very different and probably unimaginably different in the exalted resurrection. Not only does this include worldly and limiting constructs like LGBT identity, but I strongly suspect that several fallen aspects of heterosexuality will also go by the wayside.

In “The Great Divorce,” C.S. Lewis wrote, “Nothing, not even the best and noblest, can go on as it now is. Nothing, not even what is lowest and most bestial, will not be raised again if it submits to death. It is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. Flesh and blood cannot come to [heaven]. Not because they are too rank, but because they are too weak.”

I suppose you could look at this as a loss, but I prefer to see it as a gain. For example, we know that other animals and insects perceive a wider portion of the electromagnetic spectrum than we do, seeing into the near infrared and up into the ultraviolet. Some animals hear wider frequencies and smell more perceptively than humans do. What capabilities will our resurrected bodies have? What kind of art could we create and enjoy with multispectral vision?

What symphonies will we compose and appreciate with augmented hearing? What beauties of even the present world are we unable to perceive and appreciate? I can’t wait to find out. Even though this also means that some of the great works of art and music which we currently revere as masterful works of genius might then seem a little drab and inadequate in comparison.

I suppose if you believed that this occurrence was a great tragedy, you could wish to refuse such an “upgrade,” and God might even honor such a request. But that would be limiting and tragic in my view. Exaltation means being in the presence of God, and in order to endure it, we must learn to love the laws that He loves, and associate with those who love Him. We also have to allow Him to change us and let go of those things that separate us from Him.

The process is both additive and subtractive as we learn to become what we are not yet and surrender those things which separate us from the divine nature. This process can begin now, in this life. This process is called repentance and conversion: “And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou has sent.” (John 17:3).

This attempt to impose a distorted and worldly narrative frame (“conversion therapy”) onto a glorious, transcendent afterlife reminds me of  Lewis’ fictional retelling of the last days and the Second Coming in his final Narnia book. It is there some dwarfs, having been fooled by a false messiah, stubbornly resolve not to be fooled again. Stout-hearted and loyal, they are just the sort of allies Aslan (the true messiah figure) would love to have.

But in their determination not to lose what they have won through great struggle, they are unable to perceive a much more different, beautiful, abundant and joyful world than they have locked onto. Refusing to see the light, they call it darkness. Unable to appreciate a delicious banquet, they esteem it as tasteless straw. Invited into beautiful community, they instead retreat into low tribalism, shouting “the dwarfs are for the dwarfs!” (see chapter 13 of The Last Battle).

The dwarfs could open their eyes and join the others racing “further up and further in” to discover new wonders and renew old friendships in the onrushing heaven. If they would do so (and at least one does), they might lose some or all of their tribal identity. But what they stand to gain is so much greater!

There are unspeakable glories and unimaginable joys awaiting us “further up and further in,” but if we are more attached to worldly and temporary aspects of our identity, then we will never discover them.

Jeff Bennion is a marriage and family therapist and a co-founder of North Star International, an organization devoted to supporting members who experience sexual and gender diversity (along with their family and friends) who desire to live faithfully to the teachings and practices of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.