This past Sunday I preached on 1 Chronicles 29:1-20, and in that passage David refers to the people of Israel as "aliens and strangers" in God's sight (v. 15). Although in that context the phrase has a different connotation than what we typically understand it to mean, this is common language in the Bible, both in the Old and New Testaments. The most common reference in the latter is probably found in Peter's letter (1 Pet. 2:11).

While I think this idea is certainly helpful for us to keep in mind (given that it is a biblical metaphor), there is also a danger in such a perspective leading to an eschatology shaped by escapism. Indeed, many evangelicals are quick to say that we are pilgrims in this world on our way to heaven. "We're just passing through," is the common catch-phrase of those who adhere to the sentiment.

Here's the thing, though – in one sense, we're not going anywhere. As I've said before, the history of God's redemption of his people is a pattern of God coming to us. The future of God's people is not some disembodied, ethereal existence. Our new Promised Land is "the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God" (Rev. 21:2). As Peter says, on the day of the Lord, "the earth and everything in it will be laid bare" (2 Pet. 3:10) in preparation for this Holy City.

In what sense are we aliens and strangers and pilgrims, then? One way of understanding this does tie the physical world, despite what I've just said. While this world is our home, we are aliens and strangers in it at the present time because our home has been occupied by a foreign enemy. It has become a wilderness; the presence of sin and the kingdom of darkness has obscured the inherent goodness of God's creation and made it unrecognisable. But we don't wait to escape from this wilderness. We wait instead for the Promised Land that God brings down to us after he purifies his creation from sin.

There is a spiritual element to this as well, though. We are pilgrims on a journey to a spiritual destination. Through the death and resurrection of Christ, we have new life (Rom. 6, Col. 3). By the power of the indwelling Spirit, we are given strength to put to death the old self, and to live holy and righteous lives (John 14:15-31, Rom. 8). On the day that Christ returns, we will be glorified – made like him (1 Cor. 15:51-57, Phil. 1:6).

Right now we remain in the wilderness of sin, wandering through it in the pursuit of holiness, longing and yearning for the fulness of Christ's redemption as we see sin wreak havoc in our lives and in our world. As Peter reminds us in 1 Peter 2:11, we need remember who we are so that we do not fall into sin and allow ourselves to be comfortable in this occupying kingdom. Instead, we follow the lead of our God towards that day when he fulfils his promise to forgive our wickedness and remember our sins no more (Jer. 31:34), and to wipe every tear from our eyes. "There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away" (Rev. 21:4).

The Promised Land that awaits us is God's good creation restored and glorified, a place where his people will dwell in his presence forever and where they, having been glorified, will be free from sin and flourish as they live the life that he intends for his people.

That's a Promised Land to look forward to. That's a pilgrimage worth making.

David Jackman, in his book, Spirit of Truth, writes of the Holy Spirit's work in opening our hearts and minds to the truth:

He does not reveal new truth, but leads us into the whole truth which is already set forth in Jesus, above whom there could be no fuller revelation of God's truth.

The Holy Spirit does not set us free to wander into new realms of 'revelation', secretly given or privately received. For the power of the Spirit is not revealed in secret, mystical messages given to a few super-spiritual people. His power is seen in the proclamation of Jesus Christ as the way, the truth and the life.

Just as Jesus says in John 14:26, "But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you."

Discussing Christ's office of Priest in one of the essays in Knots Untied, the late-19th century bishop, J.C. Ryle, offers these words of encouragement and hope to those who may wonder about the efficacy of prayer:

We need not doubt that Christ, as our Priest, presents the prayers and services of His people before God, and obtains for them hearing, acceptance, and favour... This is a great mystery, no doubt, but one full of consolation. It is hard at any time to understand how any word or deed of sinful creatures like us can ever come into the presence of God, or do us any good. But the Priesthood of Christ explains all. Placed in His hands and endorsed by Him, our petitions, like bank-notes duly signed, obtain a value which they have not in themselves. A young Christian once said to an old one, 'My prayers are so poor and weak, that I cannot think they are of any use.' The old Christian replied, with deep wisdom, 'Only place them in Christ's hands, and He makes them look so different in heaven that you would hardly know them again.'

What joy we have with Christ as our Priest. And more, what comfort we have too from Paul's words in Romans, that not only Christ, but also the Spirit comes to our aid in prayer: 'We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will' (Romans 8:26-27).

We have just begun to read John Stott's little book, The Living Church, together as a staff team at our church. In the first chapter, he writes about some of the defining marks of the early church as recorded in Acts 2:42-47, one of which was a strong committment to evangelism.

The fervor the early church manifested in fulfilling its mission to be witnesses to the gospel of Jesus Christ is no secret, and Stott highlights the fact that the Lord blessed their efforts by "adding to their number daily those who were being saved" (Acts 2:47). He notes that "those early Christians did not regard evangelism as an occasional activity...[but] their witness was as continuous as their worship" (32).

Part of the reason they devoted themselves wholeheartedly to this task was because they had this eager expectation that the Spirit was actively at work drawing people to himself and believed that they were his instruments to gather the people of God from every nation, tribe, and language. They were animated by the conviction that if they faithfully proclaimed the gospel of Jesus Christ, they would see their efforts bearing fruit by the power of the Spirit.

In the West as we continue to witness the rapid decline of Christianity, it is easy to lose hope in ever seeing this kind of result in our day. And our disillusionment plays a part in leading us to neglect our call to bear witness to the risen Lord. We also lose confidence in work of the Spirit, and in some instances, may even be tempted to think that the Spirit has left the church. As a result, we turn to devising all kinds of plans and methods and programs to get people to come into our churches, and hope that in the process, the Spirit comes back.

But the Spirit already came at Pentecost, and the reality is that he has not left the church! We can rejoice in this truth, and root ourselves in the knowledge that he is always with us. Jesus promised in Matthew 16:18 that he will build his church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. We are living in a time where most of his work to build his church seems to be going on in other parts of the world, but the staggering growth of the church around the world alone should remind us how amazing the work of the Spirit can be.

Let us recover the eager expectation that characterized the early church and pray that God would work powerfully through us to gather his people to himself.

One of the problems that has kept surfacing as I have been thinking about worship over the past little while is our selfishness. When we look at the music of worship as a stimulant, as Stapert suggested we often do, we are looking for something that will make us feel good. When we make the music the primary aspect of our worship, we are acting on the premise that what we say is more important than what God says to us. And, of course, there are many other ways that we make worship a thoroughly self-centred act.

The thing is – and we know this to be true despite our actions often being to the contrary – worship is not about us at all. The image of worship we get from Revelation 4 and 5, for example, makes perfectly clear that the focus of worship is the Lord. All that his creatures do in the picture John paints for us in those chapters is to praise God, ceaselessly. They have seen the glory of the Lord, and they fully understand the purpose of worship.

William Temple, the former Archbishop of Canterbury, in his book, Readings in St. John's Gospel, had this to say about worship:

Worship is the submission of all our nature to God. It is the quickening of conscience by his holiness; the nourishment of mind with his truth; the purifying of imagination by his beauty; the opening of the heart to his love; the surrender of will to his purpose – and all this gathered up in adoration, the most selfless emotion of which our nature is capable and therefore the chief remedy for that self-centredness which is our original sin and the source of all actual sin (68).

Temple understands the purpose of worship. Deep down, I think we all do too. But there are countless idols competing for our worship and adoration (some of which may even be disguised as true worship) and our sinful nature is all too eager to serve those idols. Indeed, the god we seek to worship most often is ourselves. I believe it was Luther who said that pride is the first sin, and the root of all other sins.

It would be easy to say in response that changing this is just a matter of setting our hearts on God. True as this is, it is much easier said than done. It requires the sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit, who empties us of ourselves and fills us with himself. For this reason we must constantly implore the Spirit to be present in our worship, because unless he is among us, there can be no true worship.