on hell-bound children

Being that I am neither Presbyterian, believing that our child is automatically covenant and promised for salvation, nor Arminian, believing that our child will be saved if only we manage to be convincing enough–being neither of those things, I believe this little baby is in spiritual darkness.

I’ve been dwelling on this a great deal.  This little one that I’m so eager to meet, the tiny frame that’s being knit together inside of me, is a tangled mess of sin and rebellion.  Even as he or she is learning to think, to hear, to feel, his or her little thoughts are selfish and unredeemed.  That little mind holds no appreciation for its own insignificance, no desire to serve the One who is forming every bone and synapse.  Our child is fallen.

Parents don’t often seem to treat their children like lost people.  It’s frightening to think of; I can feel even now the peculiar blend of terror that comes from flinging all your love and devotion into a little being that may never grow to desire God, from building such an incredibly close relationship with a person who may one day break your heart with their waywardness, or whose funeral you might attend and know that they’ve gone into eternal torment instead of eternal joy.

I don’t think it’s idle worry to be so starkly dramatic.  We don’t know God’s plans, and how could we presume?  We hope and we plead on our knees, but if it brings God more glory that this little child should reject Him, then our hearts may break but still flow with praise.

I don’t want to lose sight of this.  I’m sure it will be easy to do: even as Seth and I plan and giggle about all the ways we’re going to love this child to death, it’s so easy to distance ourselves from the reality of his or her spiritual condition.  And we haven’t even met yet!  Once we’re captured by smiles and coos and all the miniature wonder of new life, I can’t imagine how much more difficult it will be.  But how vital it is that every action we take as parents, every decision, be underpinned by solemn determination to show this child the beauty of Jesus Christ and His Gospel!  We’re embarking on a tiny mission field, bringing it in through our front door.

It goes well beyond “scary.”  And yet it’s also amazing, because even we as saved parents can only throw ourselves on the mercy of God–and so throwing our child on His mercy is not very much different.  And it’s awesome, because how many things bring as much joy to believers as sharing the Gospel?  And here we will, Lord willing, have the opportunity to do exactly that, day in and day out.  So it’s exciting, too, because God is gracious in all things.

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Cultivating Heavenwardness — This Old Tent

This is part of a series. You can read the introduction first or view all the posts together.

2 Corinthians 4 and 5 offer immense comfort in the midst of earthly suffering, and have been very near to my heart over the past ten months. I had taught on the passage to a small group of high school girls a few years ago, which seared it into my mind almost the point of memory–and as it has come to possess so much more immediacy to me now, I am amazed at how God provided for my then-future need of encouragement so far ahead of time! It never fails to astonish me when I see how something I thought was relatively insignificant at the time turns out to be a really major thing God was doing for the future. How awesome God is!

In reference to my seventh reason for wanting to go to heaven, i.e., “This Old Tent,” three verses from chapter five are most obvious:[bibleblock]2 Corinthians 5:2-4[/bibleblock]”This tent,” in context, refers to our bodies. Our fallen bodies. And in them we are groaning and waiting for the “redemption of our bodies” ([bible]Romans 8:23[/bible]). I think there are at least two dimensions to this–that which Paul expounds in 2 Corinthians 4, which seems to speak quite clearly (if not exclusively) of physical suffering due to being in an earthly body, i.e. persecution, also “wasting away,” which strikes a chord, I think, with anyone who’s aware of the fact that they’re dying, be it of disease or old age; and spiritual suffering due to being in an earthly body, as Paul expounds in Romans 7 and 8, for instance in 7:18, “For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out.”

In Heaven, we will be clothed in heavenly bodies–”our heavenly dwelling,” to quote the verse above. I love way Paul uses his vocabulary here–the word translated as “tent” means hut or temporary residence; the word translated “dwelling” means architecture or structure. From the very beginning, these bodies we’re living in weren’t built to be our permanent home! It’s easy to forget that and get upset when the roof starts to leak. The reality, though, is that when our little tents get too worn down to be usable shelters anymore, we get to move into real houses! I think that if we looked at life as a camping trip, we’d be rejoicing when our tents started to show signs of wear and tear–because with every new sign of deterioration, we’re one step closer to getting some seriously superior structure to live in. :-)

The other side of this, of course, is that in heaven we won’t be contending with the flesh anymore. Physically speaking, we won’t have tiredness battling with our desire to worship God in the morning, we won’t have our bodies’ faulty chemistry enticing us to depressed periods, and we won’t ever fall asleep in church! And spiritually speaking, our “body of death” ([bible]Romans 7:24[/bible]) which still holds us “captive to the law of sin” ([bible]Romans 7:23[/bible]) is going to be gone forever! [bible]1 John 3:2[/bible] says that when Christ “appears, we shall be like him”! [bible]1 Corinthians 15:51-52[/bible] says that “we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye.” [bible]Philippians 3:21[/bible] says that Christ “will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body.”  Our sin nature will be gone.

I can’t adequately understand the magnitude of that thought. No more sin. No more inclination to sin. We’re all born sinners, and God by His grace creates new hearts within us–but still none of us alive know what it’s like to be freed of our fallen flesh. But in heaven, we’ll know fully!

How His kindness yet pursues me
Mortal tongue can never tell,
Clothed in flesh, till death shall loose me
I cannot proclaim it well.

O that day when freed from sinning,
I shall see Thy lovely face;
Clothed then in blood washed linen
How I’ll sing Thy sovereign grace!

[from “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing”]

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