The essence of the Christian religion consists in the reality that the creation of the Father, ruined by sin, is restored in the death of the Son of God, and re-created by the grace of the Spirit into a kingdom of God (112).
That is one seriously loaded statement. But it lays down the sort of holistic understanding of Christianity that we so desperately need.
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.
(Our staff team meets for devotions and prayer each morning from Monday-Thursday, and this week I'm leading those devotions. I'm reflecting on some of the themes of Advent, and I thought I would share those reflections here. This is the final post in the series.)
When the angels appear to the shepherds in Luke's account of the birth of Jesus, they announce that peace has come to those on whom God's favour rests (Luke 2:14). We cannot reflect on this season without thinking about the peace that comes through Jesus.
For the people of Israel, the promise of peace was a promise they deeply longed for. During their time in exile, scattered among the nations, they longed for the peace that would come from God when he sent the Messiah to redeem them. As Isaiah proclaimed, the promise of God was that through this Messiah, they would be comforted. These words from Isaiah called them to look forward to the peace they would have through the Messiah, who would pay for their sin and bless them.
As God's people, this peace extends to us as well. We too can take comfort in these words of Isaiah, that through Christ, our sin has been atoned for. It is in this season, of course, that we remember and celebrate the time when God sent his Son to earth for us so that he might bring his Kingdom and inaugurate the next part of redemptive history. He would offer himself as a sacrifice to cleanse us from all unrighteousness, and finish the work that guarantees the redemption of all of creation.
But the peace we have through Jesus is not just about the forgiveness of our sins. We also have peace because Jesus promises that he will do everything to protect and preserve his people until he comes again. In this life we will face many obstacles and trials that will try to drive us off course. There are all kinds of things that will tempt us to keep from clinging to Jesus and the salvation he brings. People and possessions and ideas will be competing for our worship, wanting to keep us from serving and worshipping Jesus Christ alone.
Isaiah’s imagery of valleys and mountains and rough ground is a good picture of this difficult journey that is the Christian life. Yet, we have peace because, just as the way is made straight for the Lord, so he promises to raise up every valley, to make low every mountain and hill, to make the rough ground level, and the rugged places a plain (Is. 40:4). The road of faith is one we do not walk alone; instead, the one who leads us by his Spirit ensures that we will finish the journey and enter into the fullness of life in his Kingdom when he comes again.
Paul writes in Philippians 1:6 that we can have confidence "that he who began a good work in us will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." He is our peace. And so we place all our hope in trust in Christ, and surrender ourselves to him, fully dependent on him for our salvation. And as we wait for that final day when he returns and when the glory of the Lord will be revealed, we take comfort in knowing that he will preserve us until that day.
(Our staff team meets for devotions and prayer each morning from Monday-Thursday, and this week I'm leading those devotions. I'm reflecting on some of the themes of Advent, and I thought I would share those reflections here. This is the third post in the series.)
In the past couple of days, we've seen that Advent is a time to look forward, and a time to prepare our hearts for Christ's coming. Today we are taking a moment to see that Advent is also a time of joy.
During this season, as we reflect on God's faithfulness to his covenant promises, we recognise that we have so many reasons to be joyful. The prophecy we read from Zephaniah is just overflowing with joy as the prophet announces all the blessings that the Lord will pour out on his people. He has taken away their punishment and he dwells with his people (3:15). The Lord is mighty to save, and he takes great delight in his people (3:17). He gathers those who have been scattered, brings them home, and gives them honour and praise among all the peoples of the earth (3:19-20).
As with so many of the prophecies, this has both a past and future fulfilment. And we rejoice in both, knowing that some of these promises have already been fulfilled in Christ's first coming, and because we know with certainty that when he returns, these promises will all find their ultimate fulfilment.
In this time, as we wait for Christ's second coming, how do we express our joy? John the Baptist, in Luke 3:8, called the people to prepare for the coming of the Messiah by "producing fruit in keeping with repentance." When we remember the work of redemption that God has done through Jesus, we respond with gratitude by submitting ourselves to him. Our joy is expressed by living in obedience to Christ.
In Philippians 4:4, Paul writes, "Rejoice in the Lord always." It is important to note that this is a command. Joy is a wilful action on our part. Our joy begins when we believe the good news of the Gospel and lay hold of what God has done through Jesus. That joy then finds further expression as we follow the commands which Paul mentions here – not being anxious about anything, seeking after that which is true, noble, right, and so on. We put into practice the way of living that God has designed for his people, and we receive his peace.
The more we submit our lives to our Lord Jesus, the fuller our joy becomes. So, we pray that as we look forward to his return, that we will remember all the blessings he has given us and rejoice in his goodness to us. We anticipate the fulfilment of all of his covenant promises. And we pray that our joy may increase as we live under his rule, that on the day when Christ returns, "when he gathers us and brings us home," as Zephaniah said, he will find us full of joy as we gaze upon his face and stand before his glorious throne.
(Our staff team meets for devotions and prayer each morning from Monday-Thursday, and this week I'm leading those devotions. I'm reflecting on some of the themes of Advent, and I thought I would share those reflections here. This is the second post in the series.)
We saw yesterday that this season of Advent calls us to be forward-thinking, prepared for the day when Christ comes again. But what does that mean for how we live now? It calls us to pursue righteousness as we recognise that when Christ does return, he will come in judgement, "like a refiner's fire," Malachi says.
John the Baptist was the messenger Malachi spoke of, preparing the way for Jesus by calling people to repent and to seek forgiveness for their sins. It was a warning that the judgement of God was coming, but also a call for the people to prepare their hearts. The unrepentant heart would not be ready to receive Jesus.
This is no less true for us today. When Christ comes again, he expects us to be ready to receive him, to be holy and blameless, to be "filled with the fruit of righteousness" (Phil. 1:11). We need to undergo that process of refining even now, turning away from sin and seeking to live according to the rule of our King.
But God does not leave us to our own devices here. He has given us the Spirit to begin that refining work already now. When we submit ourselves to him, we begin a lifelong process of refinement, one that God carries out in us by his Spirit. He breaks down all of our idols, ambitions, and impurities so that, as Paul says, "he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus" (Phil. 1:6).
This process won't be easy. It may come with trials and pain. The Spirit's work of purifiying us can hurt as he breaks our grip on the things of this world that we cling to and worship. But when we accept his refining work, it opens us up to the joy we find as we cling to and worship Jesus instead.
We live in expectation of Christ's return, and in expectation of one day dwelling in his presence in the Kingdom. As we wait, then, we pray that God will continue to refine us by his Spirit, that he will continue to prepare us for life in his Kingdom. We pray that he will continue that process of making us pure and blamless until the day of Christ.
When we submit ourselves to him, we can be confident that because of Christ's finished work, by which our sins our forgiven and by which we are raised to new life with him, and because of the Spirit's work to sanctify us, we will be able to "endure the day of his coming" (Mal. 3:2), and we will welcome him with joy.
(Our staff team meets for devotions and prayer each morning from Monday-Thursday, and this week I'm leading those devotions. I'm reflecting on some of the themes of Advent, and I thought I would share those reflections here.)
The season of Advent is both a time to look back and a time to look forward. One of the things we look back to is the faithful remnant of Israel living in exile, awaiting the coming of the Messiah to fulfil the covenant promises God had made to them. They lived their life looking forward to that day, confident in such promises as Jeremiah 33:14-16, that a Messiah would come to redeem them.
In our modern Western society, we're not very forward-thinking. We don't orient that way. Instead we are always focused on the here and now. The present is what is important.
But this is not how Jesus expected his disciples to live, as we see in this passage. No, he called them to look forward, to prepare themselves. He told them to look for certain signs, to always be on the lookout and ready for Christ's return. They needed to be constantly looking forward, preparing for that day. He also told them there would be all kinds of things to distract them, to turn their focus away so that they wouldn't be prepared.
How forward-thinking are we? We're quick to look to Jesus' redemptive work in the past, accomplished through his death and resurrection, and we're quick to look at his work in our own lives in the present. But how often do we look forward to the final redemption, when Christ will return and fully establish the Kingdom of God? Are we prepared and ready for that day? Do we long for the coming of the Messiah just as the remnant of Israel did?
It's also important to think about how we are preparing our congregation for this day. Many of them will be stressing about their jobs, or worried about their financial situation. They are weighed down by the troubles of this life, because we're all part of a culture that focuses on the here and now. If we're honest, we all live as though this current world order, this reality we know right now, is permanent. How, then, do we break free from this and begin to look forward?
We find the key in verse 33. Jesus says, "Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away." We need to keep going back to Scripture. We need to reflect on the story of redemption, of what God has accomplished in history through Jesus Christ. Like the faithful remnant of Israel, we must keep our focus on the promises of the covenant that were foreshadowed by Christ during his time on earth and that are guaranteed through his finished work on the cross. He will come again!
When we live in expectation of the day when Jesus will return, that will give shape to our perception of reality. Our longing for the Kingdom of God will replace the anxieties and troubles of life. As we look forward to the fullness of life in that Kingdom, we will seek to be holy and blameless. As the writer to the Hebrews says, we must "fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith" (Hebrews 12:2).
Let us pray with confidence, "O come, O come, Emmanuel," knowing that because the Incarnate Christ already did come, he will come again to fulfil all of his promises to his people.
In his book, Gospel and Kingdom, which is one of the volumes in the very helpful Goldsworthy Trilogy, the Australian biblical theologian, Graeme Goldsworthy, discusses how the understanding that the Old Testament forms an integral part of the history of redemption has been lost in our day. We have moved towards focusing on the individual and his or her personal appropriation of faith instead of first recognising the work of God in history as part of a much larger story and framework. He writes,
Failure to grasp this truth – largely because the proper study of the Old Testament has been neglected, has aided and abetted one of the most unfortunate reversals in evangelical theology. The core of the gospel, the historical facts of what God did in Christ, is often down-graded today in favour of a more mystical emphasis on the private spiritual experience of the individual. Whereas faith in the gospel is essentially acceptance of, and commitment to, the declaration that God acted in Christ some two thousand years ago on our behalf, saving faith is often portrayed nowadays more as trust in what God is doing in us now. Biblical ideas such as 'the forgiveness of sins' or 'salvation' are interpreted as primarily describing a Christian's personal experience. But when we allow the whole Bible – Old and New Testaments – to speak to us, we find that those subjective aspects of the Christian life which are undoubtedly important – the new birth, faith and sanctification – are fruits of the gospel. This gospel, while still relating to individual people at their point of need, is rooted and grounded in the history of redemption. It is the good news about Jesus, before it can become good news for sinful men and women. Indeed, it is only as the objective (redemptive-historical) facts are grasped that the subjective experience of the individual Christian can be understood (20-21).
Without the redemptive work of God in history through Jesus, we have no hope. This work of God is the starting point of faith.
In my first year of seminary, I was assigned a paper in which I essentially had to think about the idea of sacred space from a biblical standpoint and determine, more specifically, if this had any bearing on the architecture of church buildings. I found it to be a very interesting and challenging assignment, and though I came to no firm conclusion on the matter, I still find myself thinking about it often.
Recently, I finished reading N.T. Wright's excellent book, Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church. Wright, an outspoken champion of biblical idea that redemption extends as far as the curse is found – in contrast to many Christians who view redemption as something spiritualised and otherworldly – helpfully guides the reader through a discussion of what this holistic redemption means for space, time, and matter. Wright says the following about how the redemption of space might give us pause to think about our church buildings:
The renewal and reclaiming of space has recently involved, among other things, a fresh grasp of the Celtic tradition of 'thin places,' places where the curtain between heaven and earth seems almost transparent. This is in fact just one aspect of a much wider theology of place, which has been under serious threat in the West since the Enlightenment. We urgently need to recapture this theology before, to use an obvious metaphor, all the ancient trees are cut down to make room for a shopping centre and parking lot just when people are starting to realise how much shade those trees provide in summer, how much fruit they bear in autumn, and how beautiful they look in spring. Jesus does indeed declare that God calls all people everywhere to worship him in spirit and truth rather than limiting worship to this or that holy mountain. But this doesn't undercut a proper theology of God's reclaiming of the whole world, which is anticipated in the claiming of space for worship and prayer. Church buildings and other places...are not a retreat from the world but a bridgehead into the world, a way of claiming part of God-given space for his glory, against the day when the whole world will thrill to his praise.
It is nothing short of dualistic folly, then, simply to declare without ado...that old church buildings and the like are irrelevant to the mission of God today and tomorrow... Many are rediscovering in our day that there are indeed such things as places sanctified by long usage for prayer and worship, places where, often without being able to explain it, people of all sorts find that prayer is more natural, that God can be known and felt more readily. We should reflect long and hard on a proper theology of place and space, thought through in terms of God's promise to renew the whole creation, before we abandon geography and territory.
