What's The Point?

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).

Distressed But Full of Joy

“In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishable, even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ; and though you have not seen Him, you love Him, and though you do not see Him now, but believe in Him, you greatly rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory, obtaining as the outcome of your faith the salvation of your souls” (I Pet 1:6-9).

Marital conflict. Job loss. Cancer diagnosis. Defiant children. Car accident. These and many other trials fill our weeks, months, and sometimes, years. And as they beat down upon us, they test not only our character, but our faith. Will we keep trusting God? Can we believe He will see us through? Will we dare to keep hoping?

Peter, like to the men and women he wrote, was separated from friends and family, enduring harsh persecution (v.1). And yet he describes the possibility of joy inexpressible in the midst of such suffering. How, I wonder?

Peter directs our attention to God's salvation. It seems he longed for those scattered abroad, and for us, to so prize God’s grace, to look beyond what is seen and temporal to Christ's final return, that we not only endure life's trials, but that we do so with joy that abounds.

But we often mistake happiness for joy. While happiness comes from the feeling we have when life is good, joy remains in the shifting of circumstances, even in the presence of pain.

It’s difficult, though, if not impossible, to feel joy when we feel anxious. Joy results from trust and confidence; anxiety, contrarily, often results from insecurity and uncertainty. Peter, and all believers, can express inexpressible joy because of Christ. No matter the circumstance, He remains faithful and our salvation secure.

Many days, however, my hope is not fixed completely on the grace to be brought to me at the return of Christ (I Pet 1:13). In difficult times, I often place my hope in improved circumstances. I begin to demand too much from this world, to set my heart on secure employment, enjoyment of friends and family, a rich church community.

It's not wrong to long for these good gifts. But to have a life of worry, stress and even despair reveals a heart that is not consumed with the love and grace of God. It exposes a heart that needs adjusting.

So what do you feel stressed and anxious about? Can you identify a current trial that may be challenging your faith?

Let us, as Peter exhorts, cast our worries upon Christ knowing He cares for us (I Pet 5:7) as proven at the cross. And let us yearn for His return more than we long for the comfort and riches of this world. May we enter into His joy by clinging to His enduring love and abiding presence that sustains us on this often rocky journey home.

A Refuge For Our Hearts

“Trust in Him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us (Ps 62:8).”

I find it difficult to trust God. I find faith challenging. I wonder at David’s charge to trust God at all times. Trust God in the midst of the divorce. Trust God in the midst of financial ruin. Trust God in the midst of the job loss. Trust God in the midst of natural disaster. Trust God in the midst of physical, emotional or sexual abuse. How is that possible?

David, who exhorts us, did not lead an enchanted life. He knew well suffering, fear, grief, angst, trauma. For years David lived and served King Saul who repeatedly abused him with his words and actions. Saul not only threatened David’s life but attempted to murder him, to destroy him. David eventually fled for his life and lived on the run for many years. He hid in caves. He feared for his life. And yet in the midst of all this he had the courage to believe. He hoped for deliverance. He trusted God. He rested in His salvation and loyal love.

I wonder how. But his faith didn't mean he never struggled to understand God in the midst of the strife. His psalms of lament capture his frustration, dread and concern. Maybe that is where I err. Maybe I confuse my questions for a lack of faith. Perhaps then what separates those with faith and those with unbelief is not confusion, struggles or doubts but rather where we take these frustrations and sorrows. David exhorts us to pour our hearts—with all their anger, sorrow, fear—before God. To himself he writes, “My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him” (Ps 62:5). For God only. When he felt overwhelmed he ran to God. How often I tend to run to other people and things.

So where do we find our refuge? Television? Alcohol? Food? A busy schedule? A person? David found hope in God. He took shelter in Him. We must remember, however, that a refuge doesn’t make the storm stop; rather, it provides shelter as the storm rages. Shelter as you clean out your desk at work. Shelter as you sign the papers. Shelter as the bruises surface.

In the midst of whatever we may be facing, let us found the courage to bear our hearts before God. Let us dare to hope in His unfailing love. Despite the confusion we may feel or the anger we may have towards Him, let us pour these out at into His arms of grace. May we have assurance knowing that David, a man after God’s own heart, also struggled with God. Yet he still came to Him. And that made all the difference. In coming he received peace, love, hope.

Unfulfilled Promises

All these died in faith, without receiving the promises, but having seen them and having welcomed them from a distance, and having confessed that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For those who say such things make it clear that they are seeking a country of their own (Heb 11:13-14).

I love, hate and need this passage. It reminds me that we don’t necessarily see the results of God's promises this side of heaven. I find this truth annoying. I want the promises today. Not tomorrow, not in twenty years. Now. Typically, I have read this text as encouragement to look towards Christ’s return when He will make all things new. Today, my lens gets more focused. I see that my hope includes a freedom from this fleshly body; that is, Christ will free me of the sin that hurts, distracts, and kills. I tire of the Christian struggle between godliness and selfishness. I weary of the conflict between knowing how I ought to live and the way I live. Instead of having a heart that loves God, I have a heart bent on self that alienates and mars relationships.

The promise of restoration and redemption will remain unfulfilled on earth. There's hope in that for me, one who continues to give in to the flesh, but who longs for more, who longs to love as her Savior. And perhaps the longing transforms, for hope itself has a way of healing. So today, I press on towards His righteousness, knowing that my healing will fully take place in a much better world:

And indeed if they had been thinking of that country from which they went out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; for He has prepared a city for them (Heb 11:15-16).