Many Christians believe the reason for faith in Christ is to rescue us from hell and secure a place for us in heaven. Take for instance the evangelical question posed by many, “If you died today and God asked you why He should let you in to heaven, what would you say?” If you answer anything other than Jesus you’re not getting in. In other words, Jesus is the key to the door of heaven. But I have a problem with this question. It assumes that the point of the Christian faith is heaven, and I don’t think it is.
While Jesus’ work on the cross does deliver us from hell (rescued from God’s wrath) and set us aside for heaven, when we reduce salvation to our eternal destination we miss the point. So why does He save us? Doesn’t Jesus say He came to bring us eternal life?
The problem arises when we equate everlasting life with heaven. Jesus, instead of focusing on a destination, describes eternal life in terms of a relationship, “This is eternal life, that they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent” (John 17:3). Even Peter, Paul and the early missionaries didn’t focus on heaven as they evangelized. They didn’t sell Christianity with the reward of heaven. They didn’t say, “Believe in Jesus so you can get to Paradise,” as if heaven is the point.
Instead, Peter says, “Therefore repent and return, so that your sins may be wiped away, in order that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord” (Acts 3:19). Sin doesn’t merely keep us out of heaven; it separates us from God. In fact our transgressions severed our relationship with Him. Our sin ruptured the union between us and our Creator. In Christ, though, God takes sin out of the way, nailing it to the cross (Col 2:14).
And because He has a set a day in the future to judge sinners, He beckons us now to repentance, “that [we] would seek God, if perhaps [we] might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us; for in Him we live and move and exist” (Acts 17:27, 28ff). As Paul writes, “God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them” (2 Cor 5:19; italics mine). Knowing God, not entrance to heaven, was, and is, the hope offered.
But I wonder, do we see Him as our reward? Is He the one we long for? What exactly is our motivation for believing in Christ? Is it to get to heaven, or to get to know God? Are we more excited about the thought of Paradise, of some life-long stay at a resort in Hawaii, laying out by the pool, sipping on non-alcoholic piña coladas? Or do we yearn for God’s nearness, to live in His presence, seeing His eyes, feeling His embrace, smelling His glorious aroma?
In Scripture, when the authors write of heaven, they focus, not on its perfection, but rather who resides there. John writes of the new Jerusalem, “Behold, the tabernacle of God is among men, and He will dwell among them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself will be among them” (Rev 21:3). Is heaven perfect? Yes. Is it free of pain, sin and death? Yes. Is it full of utter joy, complete satisfaction and relentless love? Yes, but as David writes, “In Your presence is fullness of joy; in Your right hand are pleasures forever” (Ps 16:11). Heaven is all these things because heaven is where God is.
So we Christians do hope for a future place, not because of the location itself, but because of who lives there. Jesus says, “I go and prepare a place for you. If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am there you may be also” (John 14:2, 3). Jesus doesn’t save us merely so we can enjoy Paradise. He rescues us for Himself.
If in our longing for heaven then we find ourselves yearning for something or someone more than God we miss the gospel. We fail to grasp how good the good news is. Paul says, “For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain” (Phil 1:21). Feeling torn between evangelizing and leaving this world he further says, “But I am hard-pressed from both directions, having the desire to depart and be with Christ, for this is very much better; yet to remain on in the flesh is more necessary for your sake” (Phil 1:23). Paul didn’t focus on death as a passage to heaven; he welcomed death as entrance in to the Savior’s presence.
So let us examine our hearts. Do we only or primarily say yes to Christ to get out of hell and get in to heaven? Or do we say yes because we’ve tasted His goodness and feel overcome with awe and joy that He mended what our sin tore, that we can in fact know God once more? If it’s anything less than the latter, may we wrestle with Jesus’ words of warning, “Many will say to Me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophecy in Your name, and in Your name cast out demons, and in Your name perform many miracles?’ And then I will declare to them, “I never knew you; depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness” (Matt 7:22,23).
God saves us from an eternity separate from Him; He rescues us that we may know and enjoy Him. I fear for our eternal destination if we’ve said yes to Jesus solely as access inside the pearly gates. For those, contrarily, who come to Christ to gain Christ Himself, count all things as loss to know Him now (Phil 3:8), while eagerly awaiting His return (Phil 3:20) when we will see Him face to face, knowing Him in full (I Cor 13:12).
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Something To Talk About
“I too, having heard of the faith in the Lord Jesus which exists among you and your love for all the saints, do not cease giving thanks for you... (Eph 1:15, 16a)”
Their reputation preceded them. News had spread. Paul had heard. Apparently the Ephesians loved in such a way that others took notice. I wonder what they had done. Did they financially support others? Had they clothed the cold, fed the famished, adopted the abandoned? Did they weep with the grieving and dance with the happy? Had they labored to build faith into each other? Perhaps they had done all of this and more. Regardless, Paul, though living many miles away, had heard of their love.
Reading this has me thinking about my own life. Can anyone say they have heard of my love for all Christians? Or even a few? Does the way I love make people talk? It should. But ashamedly, I don’t think it does.
Many of us know that Jesus commands us to love each other, and to do so in such a way that others notice. In fact He says, “By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another” (Jn 13:35). He couldn’t speak any clearer. The way the world will know we follow Him is by the way we love. That means we cannot love from the confines of our homes and with lip-service. We must learn to love those we encounter daily and to do so in deed.
Christ calls us to His way of loving (Eph 5:1, 2; Phil 2:5-7). It’s a self-sacrificing love. It’s a love that requires us to deny ourselves for the welfare and benefit of another. Jesus denied Himself paradise and unbroken fellowship with the Father in order to come to us and take our sins upon Himself. In this same way we ought to love each other. Sadly, I more often deny others love in order to serve myself, to secure my comfort, safety, and money.
But I want to follow Jesus, so I’m learning to lay down my own desires. I’m learning to look at the needs in my church, neighborhood, work, home, and places of play. And as I see, I’m seeking out how I might meet these needs with the resources God has given me. Christ met our need through His death, and He wants us to do the same for each other.
So maybe we deny ourselves a few meals at a restaurant in order to buy ingredients to bake bread for the elderly and lonely people in our neighborhoods. Or maybe we deny ourselves a relaxing Saturday in order to labor for the fatherless in our church by mowing their yard, building a fence, providing home maintenance help. Or perhaps we deny ourselves relaxing in front of the television in order to write encouraging cards or make phone calls to the hurting. If we aren’t denying ourselves for the welfare of another we aren’t following Christ.
And as we love, people will start talking, and more importantly, see Christ. We are mere disciples. We look to and learn from a Master greater than us. The fact that we can love sacrificially testifies to the work of His Spirit in us.
So in this day where news can spread across the world in seconds, is anyone talking about the way you or I love others, especially our family in Christ? If we look at our lives and see a lack of love then perhaps we need to travel down Calvary’s road and meet our Savior hanging on a cross. As we meditate on God’s great love toward us in Christ, let us emulate that same love to the people we work with, sit in pews with, live at home with. Let’s give them something to talk about. How about love?
Their reputation preceded them. News had spread. Paul had heard. Apparently the Ephesians loved in such a way that others took notice. I wonder what they had done. Did they financially support others? Had they clothed the cold, fed the famished, adopted the abandoned? Did they weep with the grieving and dance with the happy? Had they labored to build faith into each other? Perhaps they had done all of this and more. Regardless, Paul, though living many miles away, had heard of their love.
Reading this has me thinking about my own life. Can anyone say they have heard of my love for all Christians? Or even a few? Does the way I love make people talk? It should. But ashamedly, I don’t think it does.
Many of us know that Jesus commands us to love each other, and to do so in such a way that others notice. In fact He says, “By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another” (Jn 13:35). He couldn’t speak any clearer. The way the world will know we follow Him is by the way we love. That means we cannot love from the confines of our homes and with lip-service. We must learn to love those we encounter daily and to do so in deed.
Christ calls us to His way of loving (Eph 5:1, 2; Phil 2:5-7). It’s a self-sacrificing love. It’s a love that requires us to deny ourselves for the welfare and benefit of another. Jesus denied Himself paradise and unbroken fellowship with the Father in order to come to us and take our sins upon Himself. In this same way we ought to love each other. Sadly, I more often deny others love in order to serve myself, to secure my comfort, safety, and money.
But I want to follow Jesus, so I’m learning to lay down my own desires. I’m learning to look at the needs in my church, neighborhood, work, home, and places of play. And as I see, I’m seeking out how I might meet these needs with the resources God has given me. Christ met our need through His death, and He wants us to do the same for each other.
So maybe we deny ourselves a few meals at a restaurant in order to buy ingredients to bake bread for the elderly and lonely people in our neighborhoods. Or maybe we deny ourselves a relaxing Saturday in order to labor for the fatherless in our church by mowing their yard, building a fence, providing home maintenance help. Or perhaps we deny ourselves relaxing in front of the television in order to write encouraging cards or make phone calls to the hurting. If we aren’t denying ourselves for the welfare of another we aren’t following Christ.
And as we love, people will start talking, and more importantly, see Christ. We are mere disciples. We look to and learn from a Master greater than us. The fact that we can love sacrificially testifies to the work of His Spirit in us.
So in this day where news can spread across the world in seconds, is anyone talking about the way you or I love others, especially our family in Christ? If we look at our lives and see a lack of love then perhaps we need to travel down Calvary’s road and meet our Savior hanging on a cross. As we meditate on God’s great love toward us in Christ, let us emulate that same love to the people we work with, sit in pews with, live at home with. Let’s give them something to talk about. How about love?
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