Ineffable Grace

May 22nd, 2007

I have been reading C.J. Mahaney’s book The Cross Centered Life: Keeping the Gospel the Main Thing over the past few days, and one thing he says has really stuck with me: the Bible is God’s story, not ours, and that should be a guiding factor in the principles we gather from the Word.

His example is David and Goliath. There’s a spectrum of approaches you can take to the passage (I’m broadening this beyond Mahaney, by the way):

Subtle differences, but very profound. From a certain viewpoint, all of these interpretations are valid. You can draw from the text the first implication against overconfidence. You can draw the second implication that with God all things are possible–Philippians 4:13 and Romans 8:31 back up this interpretation very thoroughly. And, of course, you can draw the final implication, that the story shows God’s sovereignty and our weakness.

On the one hand, it seems like the latter interpretation is “forced” on the text. The passage doesn’t talk about Christ, or the redemptive power of the cross. It doesn’t even talk about God’s sovereignty. David doesn’t sit down and compose a psalm of praise when Goliath hits the ground. But. What do we know about God? We know that in Him there is “no variation or shadow due to change” (James 1:17). God’s was doing the same thing and working from the same principles in David’s time as He was when Jesus went to the cross. God’s been “preaching” the Gospel to His people from the moment Adam and Eve stepped out of Eden. And the Gospel as it’s written throughout Scripture is that man is utterly lost without God, but that God is a God of love and salvation so praise Him! And that message is very clear in the story of David and Goliath. David tells Goliath (1 Samuel 17:45-47, ESV):

So why did this exchange between a shepherd boy and a giant even happen? That “all the earth” (!) would see God, and that everyone who witnessed the exchange would learn that the Lord saves, not with human implements and might but by His sovereign power. He had dominion over the battle.

And here we come to a clearer reason why this is God’s story, not David’s. I have heard, so many times, that God “prepared” David for the fight with Goliath through using the fight with the lion and the bear. Like David’s a shepherd boy, sure, but he’s some kind of superhero shepherd. Yet that’s not what the passage is saying at all. David told Saul about those fights as part of his “qualifications,” yes, but he wasn’t saying, look, I fought off a lion and a bear, so I think I can handle a giant. No. David was saying, look, My God delivered me from a lion and a bear, and My God is going to deliver me from your giant. The story of David and Goliath has been about the sovereignty of God all along.

In conclusion, then, I’ve been deeply challenged by Mahaney’s book that when I read Scripture, I should be looking for the Gospel. I should be looking for the good news. Every passage should make me exalt God and abase self; to make me more aware of my helplessness without Him and more aware of His infinite power to save. If we’re reading stories like David and Goliath and coming away with only an interpretation like the middle one above–if we’re only seeing what God can do for us without simultaneously seeing how utterly helpless we are by ourselves–then we’re missing the Gospel, we’re missing the heart; we’re missing the whole point. We’re missing the opportunity to savor the beauty of the cross.

Tags: interpretation of scripture special tag no 1 the sovereignty of God theology verses

miracles

May 19th, 2007

It occurred to me today what an amazingly beautiful verse is Luke 16:31. The context is that this rich man has died and gone to hell, and he’s begging Abraham to resurrect a poor man named Lazarus (who was in heaven) so that the rich man’s family might see the resurrection and believe and avoid hell. Abraham responds, “If they do not hear Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead.”

That is such amazing evidence of God’s sovereignty over our souls! How many lost people have we had say to us, “if only I could see with my own eyes,” or “I’ll believe if I see a real miracle,” or “I’d believe if science couldn’t explain everything”? And the right response to that–the response we should have in our heads if not in our mouths–is you still wouldn’t believe. All of the “evidence” any of us needs is painted all around us: creation, our consciences, and, most importantly, the Word of God. These are all miraculous things, and as believers we can pause in awe as we witness the supernaturalness. In creation, we see marvelous complexity and irrefutable evidence of design. In our conscience, we see that there is plainly a law written on our hearts that is without explanation apart from God. And in the Word, we see the power of God (1 Corinthians 1:18) itself. But all of these things are non-obvious to the lost person. They see evolution, they see societal impressions; they see an old book.

It is God and God alone who opens our eyes. We could parade the most miraculous of all miracles in front of our depraved minds, and in our sin we would still fail to see a Miracle-Maker. It isn’t “proof” that changes our mind, it’s grace. Grace unmeasured.

My soul delights in the Lord! Apart from Him I am as blind and dead as one can possibly imagine; apart from Him, truth could have no impact on me.

Tags: faith the sovereignty of God theology verses wretchedness

Cultivating Heavenwardness — To Glorify God and Enjoy Him Forever

February 10th, 2007

The Westminster Shorter Catechism poses the question, “What is the chief end of man?” The answer to that question and today’s “why I want to go to heaven” are one and the same.

Our primary and sole purpose now is indeed to glorify God (”whatever you do, do all to the glory of God,” 1 Corinthians 10:31) and rejoice in Him (”rejoice in the Lord always,” Philippians 4:4). And our primary and sole purpose in heaven will continue unchanged. We’ll be a lot better at glorifying Him, yes, but it has always been, and shall always be, that for which we were created.

In an assembly-line world, full of everything from multipurpose 4-in-1 printers to three-sizes-fits-all sweatshirts, I think it can be hard to grasp the concept of a truly single-purposed object. The things we surround ourselves with often do many things satisfactorily, but do few things extremely well. That’s why we have different “levels” of gadgets depending on whether, for instance, the printer is going to be used by a mom in her home or a printing company in the workplace. We also make lots of substitutions. When I don’t have cooking spray, I use canola oil. I use the same kind of flour to put in many different baked goods. When we don’t have good nails to use to hang pictures, we use whatever nails we have. We’re adaptable and flexible, by God’s marvelous design, and so it isn’t a big problem that most of us don’t know how to mill our own flour exclusively for each specific cake, or forge an ideally-shaped nail for each task.

So when we speak of being created for a single purpose, I’m not sure how much immediate meaning that connotes in our minds. One thing engineering can show us–as countless human tragedies have attested–is that when you try to use a part for something other than its intended use, chaos can result. If you apply forces to a metal pin in different directions or strengths than the pin was intended, the pin may twist and strain and eventually break. And so bridges and buildings have come falling down, simply because the builders tried to use parts to do things other than what they were created to do.

And it’s the same way with us. We were custom-tailored, fashioned by God with the greatest care, intended for one chief object: to glorify God. And when we’re acting outside of that original intention, we too get twisted, strained, and breaking. We were designed to glorify God, and we don’t do other things well.

But right now, we’re like metal pins in a bridge that’s collapsing. In a fallen world and in fallen bodies, we are not glorifying God perfectly nor are we enjoying Him completely.

In heaven, we will be in a perfect situation, perfectly fulfilling our intended “use.” If spending eternity glorifying God sounds uneventful now, it’s only because our understanding is incomplete: Scripture is very clear that God is our ultimate joy, and glorifying Him is our greatest occupation. Now we see as through a glass darkly, but in Heaven, nothing will fill us with such excitement as worshipping God! It’s like if we imagine our perfect, most ideal job, with the best benefits: the type of job where we jump out of bed in the morning because we can’t wait to get to work because we love what we do and we know we do it well–and that’s the description of our job in heaven!

And so, today’s reason why I want to go to heaven is because there is nothing better, nothing more enjoyable, nothing more pleasing, and nothing more fulfilling, than doing what I was designed to do! And that’s an idea I can only begin to grasp, but it’s such an amazing and awesome thing that I can’t wait to understand it in full!

This is the last of the ten posts. I might extend the series with two or three closely-related posts, also on the subject of heaven, but not specifically “why I want to go.” I’m not one hundred percent decided yet, but I have some thoughts floating around that I’d like to work through.

Tags: cultivating heavenwardness special tag no 2 ten reasons why I want to go to heaven theology verses

Cultivating Heavenwardness — The Presence of God

February 10th, 2007

This is often mentioned as “the” reason we should want to go the Heaven. And yet it’s also a reason that is completely meaningless to the lost person and also to our sinful “flesh.” I think it’s a fair observation that most people, given the choice between streets of gold or being with God, would get more excited about the former, albeit in ignorance. And frankly, even though I “know” which of the two is the real reward, the fact is still that the idea of being in the presence of God for eternity doesn’t always excite me as much as it should.

So in this entry, my aim is to cultivate excitement in my heart about the idea of being with God forever.

In Psalm 16:8-11 (an absolutely beautiful psalm, by the way), David (or, prophetically speaking, Christ) writes of his experience in the presence of God. The last line bears repeating–”in Your presence there is fullness of joy; at Your right hand are pleasures evermore.” That is the simple reality of the presence of God.

Fullness here is a Hebrew word which means literally “satisfaction.” In God’s presence there is a satisfaction of joy. I think that’s a worthwhile distinction to make; telling someone that there’s a banquet in the next room that’s full of food is very different from telling someone that there’s a banquet that will completely and perfectly satisfy their hunger. Inasmuch as we can understand the concept of “joy,” we should understand that God’s presence represents the absolute ultimate in the experience–in God’s presence, our joy skyrockets to become so immeasurably full that we can’t even think of wanting any more. It makes me think of those moments when, humanly speaking, I think I’m perfectly satisfied and “all is right with the world,” and yet if I dwell on that thought long enough, I can always think of something that could be a little more perfect. But in God’s presence, joy itself is complete and lacking nothing.

Joy itself can be a recondite concept. In various Hebrew-English dictionaries, the word used in this passage is defined as blithesomeness, glee, mirth, gaiety, gladness, making merry, and pleasure. It occurs ninety-three times in the Old Testament. It’s used in Judges 16:23 to describe the way the Philistines rejoiced to find Samson delivered into their hand; in 1 Samuel 18:6, the way the women of the cities came out singing, dancing, and playing music to rejoice in the defeat of the Philistines; in 1 Kings 1:40, the reaction of the people to the crowning of King Solomon; in Ezra 3:12, the way the old men who had seen the first temple rejoiced when the foundation of the new one was laid; in Proverbs 15:21, “folly is joy” to the unwise man; in Proverbs 21:17, the one who loves pleasure shall be poor; and in Song of Solomon 3:11, Solomon’s wedding day is called “the day of the gladness of his heart.” I’m going into all of these examples because the distinction between “joy” and “happiness” is a tricky one, and perhaps over-emphasized. I find it easy to start thinking of “joy” in somewhat dreary terms, as something that doesn’t necessarily feel good, but rather is a sort of resignation and acceptance that God is sovereign and good and that He knows what’s going on, and the idea that that is sufficient. And there’s a sense, I think, in which that’s true (minus the dreariness!)–our joy in Christ certainly isn’t founded in the moment, but in eternity. And the joy we are called to have in the midst of suffering surely cannot mean that we must be all laughter and no tears.

But I think that to completely disassociate “joy” from emotions and, yes, happiness, is a mistake. In the passages above, Scripture uses the word to refer to very momentary things. Sometimes we see non-believers experiencing joy, as in the case of the Philistines; sometimes we see joy being used sinfully, as to the unwise man in Proverbs. In other words, at least in the way this specific word is used in the Old Testament, it seems to mean, in a primary sense, an emotion. So, when we learn in Psalms 16 that in God’s presence there is satisfaction of joy, it means more than just that we’ll be perfect and so we’re going to be “joyful in God’s plan.” It means that as the Israelites felt joy in victory over their enemies, as Solomon felt joy on his wedding day, as people felt joy as their beloved temple from their childhood was rebuilt, and as the fool takes joy in his folly, in God’s presence there is joy! Joy that makes you dance and sing and be merry, joy that makes our hearts light–this is not a boring or obligatory joy, but a real and present emotive joy!

Pleasures evermore is a somewhat misleading translation, I think; the word means more “delight” or “pleasant” than “pleasures,” and the words carry very different connotations, at least in my mind. The word seems most often to refer to people, situations, or music being pleasant, as in 2 Samuel 1:23 Samuel 23:1, Psalm 81:2, Psalm 133:1, Proverbs 24:4, and Song of Solomon 1:16. I can’t read Hebrew, obviously, but I don’t believe that this means that God’s presence is surrounded with “pleasures” so much as it means that God’s presence is eminently sweet, pleasant, and delightful. (I’m somewhat confused, because the word seems to be an adjective, but the translation clearly makes it into a noun, which really changes the sense altogether. Notably it’s also translated as a noun in Job 36:11, but it seems to be adjectival nearly everywhere else.) The word for “evermore” can be translated as eminence, perpetuity, strength, victory, enduring, and everlastingness.

So, in addition to containing the satisfaction of felt joy, God’s presence is also enduringly sweet. I find that very comforting, in view of the fact that I think being in God’s presence would also be a little scary. It’s like that oft-quoted passage from The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, when the children ask “is He safe?” and the beavers respond, “no, but He’s good!” Yet even though He is the God of the universe, almighty and omnipotent, and although He does as He pleases and created the world in a breath–even though if there was anyone Who is intimidatingly great and awesome, it is surely God–His presence is pleasant. His presence is sweet. His presence is delightful. It’s a wonderful thing to be in the presence of God!

And so, just from this one verse from David’s pen, the presence of God is so unbelievably enticing that I’d like to pack my bags right now! God is so gracious.

Tags: cultivating heavenwardness joy ten reasons why I want to go to heaven theology verses

Cultivating Heavenwardness — Sanctification

February 9th, 2007

This is an expansion of part of yesterday’s post more than a truly new point. But it occurred to me today that rejoicing in the tangible benefits of being a new creation (yesterday’s post) and rejoicing in the One who makes us new creations (today’s) aren’t identical concepts, and I wanted to linger over the latter concept before moving on. More specifically–rejoicing in the culmination of the sanctification process and in the Sanctifier.

Scripture is very clear that God is now in the process of sanctifying us ([bible]2 Thessalonians 2:13[/bible], [bible]1 Peter 1:2[/bible]), conforming us to His likeness ([bible]Romans 8:29[/bible]); making us holy ([bible]1 Thessalonians 4:7[/bible]). The Greek word for sanctification is hagiasmos, from hagiazo, which carries both the sense of acknowledging something to be holy (i.e., “hallowed [hagiazo] be Thy name”) and the sense of actually making something holy, by purification and separation.

The word “sanctified” makes me think of a pile of grain, where God’s going through and pulling out all the pebbles and leaving the wheat. Scripture makes it clear that sanctification is connected to salvation (”God chose you as the firstfruits to be saved, through sanctification by the Spirit and belief in the truth,” 2 Thes. 2:13, above), and on one level, it seems like that’s where the real “journey” of life is–we begin as completely lost in sin ([bible]Ephesians 2:1-3[/bible]), and God gradually transforms us through the renewing of our minds ([bible]Romans 12:2[/bible], [bible]Ephesians 4:21-24[/bible]) until finally, in heaven, our sanctification is complete ([bible]Philippians 3:21[/bible], [bible]1 John 3:2[/bible]).

And the sanctifying process is all God. Of ourselves, none of us do good ([bible]Psalm 53:2-3[/bible]). Scripture uses the word dead: dead people don’t do anything! But God, through His mercy and grace, makes us alive ([bible]Ephesians 2:4-5[/bible]) and conforms us to Christ. This is all now, before we die–God works in our hearts.

In heaven, the process of getting rid of the “old tent” involves God completing that process. I love how everything in Scripture points to us still being individuals in Heaven–instead of getting cookie-cutter identical new bodies, God renews our old ([bible]Romans 8:23[/bible]), somehow making us perfectly in His image without losing us in the process. Another mystery of heaven that I don’t really comprehend! Nevertheless–I’ve tasted the joy of sanctification here on earth; I’ve seen little things in me that God has graciously (and sometimes painfully!) corrected, and it is delight to the soul. The idea that the process will be (painlessly!) culminated in heaven is intoxicating. It’s like someone who’s eaten little bits of chocolate being told that they’re going to a complimentary chocolate buffet (except multiplied an infinite number of times because comparing chocolate to sanctification really doesn’t make sense on the scale of joy). Heaven’s a buffet of sanctification!

In my study today, I came across this poem, which goes very well with the subject.

Tags: cultivating heavenwardness ten reasons why I want to go to heaven theology verses

Cultivating Heavenwardness — This Old Tent

February 8th, 2007

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”]

Tags: cultivating heavenwardness sin nature ten reasons why I want to go to heaven theology verses

Cultivating Heavenwardness — World Weariness

February 7th, 2007

One of the bigger duh moments in my life came when I stumbled upon [bible]Galatians 6:9[/bible]: “And let us not grow weary of doing good…” Growing weary in well-doing is an easy thing here. It’s heart-wrenching when we pour our lives into a person in evangelism, only to have that person walk away and never come to Christ, and discouraging when we put time and money into a mercy ministry only to have someone tear it down. Yes, even here on earth, we are commanded not to grow weary, because we know what’s to come, but still–weariness tempts us. We’re not where we belong, and a lost world can be very unconducive to our joy if we get caught up in it.

So there’s a sense in which world-weariness comes easily, especially when we’re engrossed in “doing good” and the fallen things we deal with here keep getting in the way. But there’s another kind of world-weariness that seems to come not so easily.[bibleblock]1 John 2:15-17[/bibleblock]Desires of the flesh, desires of the eyes; pride in possessions: all will be gone. If those are the things we’re setting our sights on, even temporarily, we will be horrified at the prospect of heaven, because heaven means that the worldly things are passed away. Part of cultivating heavenwardness, then, is examining my heart closely and, with God’s grace, eliminating the parts that want bits and pieces of this world to keep.

Another aspect of world-weariness that heaven will free us from is witnessing the rebellion of the unrighteous.[bibleblock]Romans 1:28-32[/bibleblock]Is it possible to read that passage without cringing? That’s the reality of life without God, and that’s what we witness all around us every day, knowing all the while how utterly offensive sin is to God. But in heaven, we won’t have to witness that anymore. Everyone and everything will acknowledge and worship God in spirit and in truth!

As we grow more and more consumed with awareness of how repugnant fallenness really is, then the delight of heaven will become that much more dear, because there is no world to grow weary of there!

Tags: cultivating heavenwardness ten reasons why I want to go to heaven theology verses wretchedness

Cultivating Heavenwardness — My Faith Shall Be Sight

February 6th, 2007

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

Thus goes my favorite verse from one of my favorite hymns, and the source for today’s title. (By the way–if you don’t know the story behind that hymn, it’s worth reading.)

After the last entry, I hope it doesn’t sound contradictory for me to say that I want to go to heaven so that my faith shall be sight! Hebrews 11:1 is the ever-famous “faith verse”: “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” In other words, faith is, by very definition, not-yet-fulfilled. 1 Corinthians 5:6b-7a makes this explicit: “We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight.” We aren’t walking by sight yet. But the verse in Hebrews doesn’t say “Now faith is something we hope for, the desire of things not seen” — instead it uses words like assurance (in the Greek, literally, a “setting under”, i.e. a support) and conviction (also translated proof, or evidence; the only other occurrence of the word is in [bible]2 Timothy 3:16[/bible], “All Scripture is…profitable…for reproof“). Faith, then, is that which enables us to “know” the things we don’t “know.”

There’s a common youth-group-type illustration that says faith is what you have in the instant before you sit on a chair: you have faith that the chair will hold you. Honestly, I think that definition comes a little short–because you don’t know that the chair will hold, you just assume that it will (and even that assumption is based on external evidence and personal experience). Faith, according to Hebrews, is much stronger than that. Faith assures. Faith convicts. In Ephesians 3:12, Paul explains that through our faith in Christ, “we have boldness and access with confidence.”

Faith is sufficient for action. But our faith here is not at its maximum: we can grow in our faith ([bible]2 Timothy 2:22[/bible], [bible]2 Thessalonians 1:3[/bible]).

In heaven, those things we hope for will be! And those things we have not seen will be seen! As Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 13:10,12: “When the perfect comes, the partial will pass away… Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.” We’ll be with the Lord, and we’ll be walking by sight! Our faith will be perfected.

Strong’s Greek Dictionary translates pistos (faith) as “objectively trustworthy,” which fits perfectly with Hebrews 11 and with the observation that God Himself is faithful–faith is that which convinces us that the things we haven’t yet seen are trustworthy, and clearly God is Himself the epitome of trustworthiness. In heaven, then, we have another cause to rejoice, not only in the perfecting of our own faith, but in the faithfulness of God! We will at last observe that the truths He makes known to our hearts now through the Holy Spirit and through Scripture are true… we will observe through all eternity how trustworthy our God has been to us!

Tags: cultivating heavenwardness faith ten reasons why I want to go to heaven theology verses

Cultivating Heavenwardness — To See Jesus

February 2nd, 2007

One of the passages in the Bible that I’ve always struggled with, not theologically so much as emotionally, is where Thomas sees the resurrected Christ:[bibleblock]John 20:24-29[/bibleblock]The last verse refers to us, of course, and so it ought to be comforting… but how many times do we fall into the fallacy of thinking that if only I could see with my own eyes, I would believe? Not necessarily salvation-wise, but maybe thinking that if Jesus was sitting here next to me, I would automatically do something differently. I remember the summer that I went to camp, we had a big powwow and one of the counselors told this story about Jesus coming to visit at a person’s house, in person, and it totally revolutionized the person’s life. The idea was for us to visualize being in that situation ourselves and see “what books we’d be ashamed to have on our shelves,” so to speak.

I’ve come to the conclusion, though, that if Christ came to my house and stayed a while… I’d still be a sinner. Maybe even things wouldn’t be very much different. Just consider the disciples: they saw Christ every day and they still managed to screw stuff up. Peter was face to face with Christ when he decided the wind was more fearsome than Christ was able ([bible]Matthew 14:28-31[/bible]). I don’t see how my eyes, which are so easily deceived anyway, would do a better job of convincing me of the reality of Christ than the Spirit of God working in my heart does. So when I say, “I want to go to heaven so I can see Jesus,” I don’t mean so that I’ll know “for sure” that He’s real. Seeing Jesus is an end in itself.

When I read the Thomas passage, it, more earnestly than any other passage in Scripture, makes me long to see my Savior. That’s explicitly what Thomas was doing; it’s the whole point, the reason for the exchange. And oh how badly I want to be in that situation as well! The very idea takes my breath away. I know beyond a doubt that I was created to worship God, if for no other reason than the vehemence of the emotional reaction the idea of actually seeing Him causes within me. It isn’t “rational,” from the world’s perspective, to experience an intense longing to meet someone we’ve never “met,” but there it is. “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face.” Can we read those words without intense excitement stirring in our hearts?

And in heaven, that anticipation will be fulfilled: we’ll see Christ! In person! I’m going to see my Redeemer face-to-face at last! [bible]1 John 3:2[/bible] says “we shall see Him as He is”! As He is. Is there anything more amazing?

Tags: cultivating heavenwardness special tag no 2 ten reasons why I want to go to heaven theology verses

Cultivating Heavenwardness — Marriage in Heaven

January 31st, 2007

I’m happy to go to heaven because there won’t be human marriage there.

This is very counter-intuitive; I adore my husband and I love being married. A big part of me would be perfectly content with this life so long as I could keep living it with him. In fact, it’s my appreciation of the institution of marriage that makes me the more happier that it will be abolished!

The subject of marriage in heaven always brings to my mind the passage in Numbers 21, where the children of Israel sinned, and were bitten by firey serpents. Moses prayed, and the Lord told him to set a firey sepent on a pole for the people to look at it and live. The serpent was a “forerunner,” in a sense, of Christ, a connection which is made explicit in [bible]John 3:14[/bible]. And so… the people appreciated the serpent. In fact, they went on to actually worship it, according to [bible]2 Kings 18:4[/bible].

In other words, instead of taking God’s gift and allowing it to illustrate to their hearts the truth of their future Redeemer, they took the gift and utterly subverted its purpose, making an idol of it and forgetting its Giver.

Our marriage here is a gift for which God has delineated many reasons–but all throughout Scripture, He’s also been very clear that our marriages are of limited duration, a bond dissolved by death.

And yet there is one marriage which God tells us will be enacted in glory:

I can’t even begin to contemplate exactly what that means, a marriage between an everlastingly perfect God and His church, but I do know that God chose to use the word marriage. Not friendship, not master-slave, not equals, but “marriage.”

Which means that our marriages now, wonderful though they may be, have an awful lot in common with the serpent Moses lifted up in the wilderness. It’s a gift, and it should be helping our hearts to begin to understand the upcoming marriage of Christ and the Church. (I like the way John Piper puts it: “the highest meaning and the most ultimate purpose of marriage is to put the covenant relationship of Christ and his church on display.”) God has graciously given us a foretaste of what the word marriage means, but we don’t yet understand it in full, because the marriage for which He’s collectively preparing us isn’t yet fulfilled.

It’s an immensely exciting thing to know that as much as I love Seth and love being his wife, this “marriage” that I adore is only an imperfect model of what’s going to be in heaven. And who in their right mind would prefer the imperfect and incomplete to the perfect and fulfilled?

Tags: cultivating heavenwardness marriage married happiness seth ten reasons why I want to go to heaven the church theology verses