Archive for the ‘Series’ Category

The People of Heaven (Heaven Pt. 4)

Monday, May 14th, 2012

“I feel like I’m drinking from the Source of the Stream. Does this mean I’ll feel no more longing?” The King – the Source—replies, “You will have the sweet longing of desire that can be fulfilled and shall be again and again and again. Heaven is not the absence of longing but its fulfillment.”

-excerpt from Safely Home

If we take time to step back from our busy lives in the confused and cluttered Silicon Valley, we might realize that there is something more than this that we are longing for. There is that longing because God created us with that longing. He created us with a longing for Him. There was a time, before man decided to rebel against Him, when we were with Him, speaking to Him face to face, and living in unhindered community with Him. We were separated from Him when we chose our own selfish desires over Him, and Heaven was separated from Earth. The feeling of lack and unfulfilled longing we have for being in His presence – in Heaven – is a blessing given to us by Him to draw us back to Him. Praise God for sending His Son Jesus to pay our ransom, freeing us from the confines of our selfish desires. When we accept His sacrifice and leadership in our lives, we are restored to community with Him and have the hope of Heaven to look forward to. We look forward to Heaven because “If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied” (1 Corinthians 15:19). We hope for something beyond this temporary earthly life where our longings will one day being restored.

My last post dealt with the question of what the New Earth itself will be like. The next big question about Heaven (particularly the New Earth) to address is what will we be like there? Often people sadden themselves thinking about how inhuman we might be or how we won’t have anything to do. The fact of the matter is that these things are simply not true. We will be exceptionally human and everything will be perceived and will actually be exceptionally real. C.S. Lewis illustrates this principle in his book The Great Divorce, as he describes things like blades of grass that are too sharp to walk on for someone without a Heavenly body, and the wind would whisk such a person away, because he’s not real enough for the thickness of that world.

Therefore, the first thing we must address are our bodies themselves. We will have resurrected bodies on the New Earth and they will be strong enough that we will be able to gaze upon God Himself and live (Philippians 3:21). But our bodies here on this earth are frail, fragile and temporary. God told Moses, “You cannot see my face, for man shall not see me and live” (Exodus 33:20). Additionally, we’re chained to the principles of the earth’s frailty, as our bodies slowly decay here, thanks to the effects of sin extending into the physical world. Thanks be to God who will give us new heavenly bodies that won’t grow old and won’t get sick. Now this is not a direct pull from scripture, but I can imagine being able to run faster and jump higher like I just put on a pair of eternal PF Fliers. Our bodies here also experience the debilitating effects of sin, so when certain weaknesses are removed, I can imagine they will be able to do more.

When God made Adam and put him in the Garden of Eden, he put him to work, naming all the animals. He also commanded him to “fill the earth and subdue it” (Genesis 1:28). This was pre-Fall, before sin ever entered the world. Therefore, work is good. Work was not a product of the Fall. The curse God gave man after the Fall was that his work would now be toilsome. That’s why work today seems like such a drag. But it wasn’t intended to be that way, and God will restore it to its right place in which we enjoy it again: “Therefore they are before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple; and he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence” (Revelation 7:15). Again, what was once corrupted will one day be restored.

Something that many people might be concerned about with Heaven is the perceived lack of learning. They think things like, “It’s going to be boring when we get to Heaven and we all of a sudden know everything we need to know,” when this isn’t the case. Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 13:12 “…then I shall know fully…”. The Greek word for “know fully” is Epiginosko, which means “to know extensively” or “to learn.” Randy Alcorn makes the point that when this term is used it never means absolute knowledge. So there will surely be a huge jump in our knowing, as we see God face to face and see the home He has made for us. Still, there will always be more for us to learn, as God is a deep ocean and knowing Him better will be an eternal process that never ends. Jonathan Edwards, arguably America’s historically most important theologian, once said “The saints will be progressive in knowledge to all eternity” and “The number of ideas of the saints shall increase to eternity.” Just as we will keep learning about God, why wouldn’t we continue learning other things too? A new earth means new things to discover and explore and maybe even new technologies to develop. God is not going to tell us to put our brains on the shelf when we get there!

What will our relationships look like in Heaven? The first thing that comes to my mind is the limitless time we will be able to spend with each other. My primary love language is quality time so you can see why this would excite me! I look forward to spending time with friends that have passed away. I look forward to spending time with friends that have moved away. I look forward to spending time with friends who I simply have not had the kind of time I’ve wanted to spend with them. First and foremost, it will be Jesus. The time I spend with him here seems so fleeting and incomplete compared to what it will be like to see him face to face. God Himself should be a given, but who else are you looking forward to spending time with in Heaven?

For some people, thinking about this begs the question: will we be ourselves in Heaven? Revelation mentions martyrs in Heaven looking down on earth and calling for God’s judgment to come down on their persecutors (Revelation 6:9-10). This suggests that we will remember who we were and what we experienced on the earth, and our identity will remain intact. Who’s to say that we won’t tell stories of what we did on earth as we continue to live out our story on the New Earth? And then we will continue growing and have new stories to tell. When we step foot on the New Earth, the adventure will only be beginning.

What about food? I think this is a great way to wrap up this post. I love food. Don’t you? God made food and He made it not only for us to be nourished but for us to take pleasure in. Food was in the world before the fall, and will surely be on the New Earth. Some people argue, “Our new bodies will be perfect, so we won’t need to eat food to sustain them.” Go back to the quote at the beginning of this post. It says “Heaven is not the absence of longing but its fulfillment.” So stop thinking in terms of there being no more need and no more desire, but rather in terms of having every need and every desire satisfied. Doesn’t that give God more glory? Recognizing that we are still weak, He provides for us again and again and again. This time there will be no lack for every single person. Of course there’s also scriptural backing for the truth of us enjoying food in Heaven: “I tell you, many will come from east and west and recline at table with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 8:11) and “Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb” (Revelation 19:9).

Don’t we have an amazing God? Isn’t it incredible that He cares about us so much that He is designing a place where we can live with Him and enjoy Him forever? We will be together in community with Him at the center and a new history will be written as we live out our eternal lives. There will be no lack of interesting things to do, see and talk about. Our bodies will be new, having left behind whatever disease or disability that plagued us on this earth. I leave you with my favorite passage in the Bible, an amazing glimpse of the hope that lies ahead of us, to the glory of our Heavenly Father:

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.”

Revelation 21:3-5

Author: Jeff Oleson

Lent: Holy Week

Wednesday, April 11th, 2012

Holy Week, the last week of Lent, is our annual remembrance of Jesus’ last days. It includes Palm Sunday (celebrating Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem), Maundy Thursday (the Last Supper, and Jesus’ new commandment to love one another), Good Friday (the crucifixion and death of Jesus), and Holy Saturday (a day of quiet when Jesus lay in the tomb). Because these days leading up to Jesus’ death—the most difficult, most scandalous event of his life—were the most difficult days of his life, we believe they deserve extra reflection.

But this can be problematic for some of us: we know the story, recognize all the familiar parts, let our eyes gloss over the words and the words run off our hearts. We aren’t scandalized by the story anymore—and we ought to be shocked by crucifixion. This was one of the cruelest, most unjust things ever done; it was also the moment when God did the most loving thing of all. How do we reconcile those two conflicting views of the crucifixion? The point is not to reduce it to a catchy phrase or an easy formula. The point is to stay there, to let the story wash over you, like a huge wave, knocking you off your feet, rinsing you out, breaking you down, leaving you with nothing but awe and sorrow and gratitude and love.

Lent is about walking through the trials of Jesus: we enter into the wilderness with Jesus for the 40 days of Lent and we enter specifically into the pain of his death during Holy Week. As we enter into the suffering of Christ, we begin to be shaped into the likeness of God; the character of God takes root in us as a community, and the whole world ought to look at us and see what God is like, what God’s kingdom is like. As we live through Palm Sunday, may we recognize and welcome Jesus for the king he is, not the king we want him to be. As we go through the Last Supper, may we better understand what it means to be part of this new covenant and to be a servant like Jesus. As we go through Gethsemane may we learn to watch with Jesus, to stay with him, and to learn from his anguish the lessons of love. As we suffer through the agony of Good Friday, may we better understand how the kingdom of God comes by sacrifice.

The story does indeed lead to the cross, but that is the moment—in a way that still catches us off-guard—in which God’s purposes are fulfilled and his kingdom established. We share the journey of Christ’s sorrow and pain so that we can share the joy of his victory. Lent ends with Easter, our celebration of Jesus’ resurrection. Sometimes we are too good at being solemn and we forget that we live through these painful days remembering Jesus’ death because we know resurrection day is coming. This is the preparation for the coming party, but we can’t just skip to the end. And the celebration will be so much greater now that we know what it took to get there.

Author: Alicia McClintic

The New Earth (Heaven Pt. 3)

Monday, April 2nd, 2012

Having already discussed why it should be important for us to set our minds on Heaven, I want to direct our minds to specifics concerning what Heaven will be like. This week the question I hope to help answer will be: what will Heaven, the place itself, be like? So lets get right into it.

One of the first things to think about when we consider our eternal home is John’s reference to it as a “new heaven and a new earth” in Revelation 21, “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away.” (Rev. 21:1). What does this name infer? I would think it suggests that Heaven will be a new (and vastly improved version!) of the current Earth, hence John referring to it as a “new earth.” Peter also writes, “But according to his promise we are waiting for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells” (2 Peter 3:13) and the Old Testament prophet, Isaiah, writes, “For behold, I create new heavens and a new earth, and the former things shall not be remembered or come into mind” (Isaiah 65:17).

Furthermore, the idea with a new heaven and new earth is that they will be coming together in a beautiful collision that God has foreseen since He first had to separate His dwelling from ours at The Fall (Genesis 3:22-24). This is an event made possible by Jesus dying for us, acting as the bridge between man and God, making relationship possible. John continues to talk about his vision of this event, “And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God’”(Revelation 21:2-3). We can expect God to be with man again, as in the garden of Eden, and Heaven – His dwelling place— to be on Earth.

Lets take a quick detour to recognize that the New Earth I’m talking about is different from the current Heaven, often referred to as the “Intermediate Heaven.” The latter is a place that people go to right now when they die, and it’s not purgatory (which is nowhere in the Bible) but a temporary Heaven also filled with the very presence of God. It’s also filled with God’s people, resting, praising God and awaiting God’s judgment to come on the earth, and the resurrection of our physical bodies (Revelation 6:10-11).

For more on the “intermediate Heaven” read this short blog by John Piper.

Another thing I should briefly point out is that much of my interpretation in this blog is taking these verses from a literal standpoint. Now, this doesn’t mean that they don’t still have symbolic meaning, but really can have both types of meaning at the same time. An example is that the “river of life” described in Revelation 21 could be both a literal river and a metaphor for God as a healer and His gift of eternal life to us. A possible scriptural basis of support for this standpoint is when the New Jerusalem is described in Revelation 21, where John describes the angel measuring the city, “He also measured its wall, 144 cubits by human measurement, which is also an angel’s measurement” (Revelation 21:17, italics mine). That phrase in italics seems to say, “hey it’s really this big! Not just a spiritual form of measurement.” Many Christians have come to believe that taking verses like these as merely figurative is taking the spiritual high ground, so it’s important to consider and challenge our assumptions in the way we interpret scripture. I have had to challenge mine as I’ve edited this post side-by-side with a friend who challenged my interpretation of scripture.

Returning to the idea that the New Earth will be a vastly improved version of the current Earth, lets consider the idea that our default belief should be that the good things from this earth – those things that God has made and have not been twisted as a result of sin – should be on the New Earth. Many Christians today have bought into the lie that Heaven will be boring because there won’t be anything to do or see because there will be nothing but us and God sitting on clouds, strumming harps. But lets consider the fact that Heaven might include many good things that we also experience here but in a tainted way. Lets consider a few.

Firstly and most importantly, the New Earth will be filled with the presence of God. We experience that here, but we don’t yet see Him face to face, as His Word promises:

For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.

1 Corinthians 13:12

The sun shall be no more your light by day, nor for brightness shall the moon give you light; but the LORD will be your everlasting light, and your God will be your glory. Your sun shall no more go down, nor your moon withdraw itself; for the LORD will be your everlasting light, and your days of mourning shall be ended.

Isaiah 60:19-20

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God.

Revelation 21:3

This will surely be the most awe-striking thing about our Home, and we should yearn for it like a desert nomad longs for water.

Next, we can expect the New Earth to have physical attributes like geography, time and climate, just like ours:

And I will make them and the places all around my hill a blessing, and I will send down the showers in their season; they shall be showers of blessing. And the trees of the field shall yield their fruit, and the earth shall yield its increase, and they shall be secure in their land. And they shall know that I am the LORD, when I break the bars of their yoke, and deliver them from the hand of those who enslaved them.

Ezekiel 34:26-27

The prophet Ezekiel writes by God’s direction of a coming paradise with rain, trees and fruit. John had a vision of the New Earth along the same lines:

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city; also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.

Revelation 22:1-2

We can imagine there to be bodies of water and trees, even in the midst of a city, reminiscent of glorified parks.

People usually think of Heaven as a place outside of space and time, while the idea of eternity suggests not that there will be no time but that time will be endless. There are verses that this can be drawn from: first of all, in the previous verse (Rev. 22:2) months (units of time) are mentioned. And a second verse is earlier in the book, “Therefore they are before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple; and he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence” (Revelation 7:15). He talks about night and day (also units of time) and our interaction within such a structure. Given these things, we can imagine that we will write history in Heaven as well. Again, this is coming from my literal assumption of this passage. However, as Genesis describes God creating the earth, and it existing before sin ever entered and corrupted everything, “night” and “day” are mentioned multiple times.

Another thing we can expect to be on the New Earth are animals. This passage undoubtedly has a figurative interpretation, describing the idea that peace and the knowledge of God on the New Earth will be everywhere. Yet I believe that we can also take it in a literal sense, meaning there really will be animals. Read Isaiah’s vision:

The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat, and the calf and the lion and the fattened calf together; and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze; their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The nursing child shall play over the hole of the cobra, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the adder’s den. They shall not hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea.

Isaiah 11:6-9

We can also imagine there to be material items in Heaven (though we can’t bring what we have here with us, of course!). Again God tells us through the prophet Isaiah, “Instead of bronze I will bring gold, and instead of iron I will bring silver; instead of wood, bronze; instead of stones, iron. I will make your overseers peace and your taskmasters righteousness” (Isaiah 60:17). If this is the case, why wouldn’t there by technology, as we continue to do work that’s satisfying to us (Rev. 7:15)? Desiring to do satisfying work, why wouldn’t God allow us to continue in our God-given passions, doing things that He created us to do for good, like properly utilizing technology?

Finally, God’s centerpiece of the New Earth will be a city called the New Jerusalem.

And he carried me away in the Spirit to a great, high mountain, and showed me the holy city Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God, having the glory of God, its radiance like a most rare jewel, like a jasper, clear as crystal. It had a great, high wall, with twelve gates, and at the gates twelve angels, and on the gates the names of the twelve tribes of the sons of Israel were inscribed— on the east three gates, on the north three gates, on the south three gates, and on the west three gates. And the wall of the city had twelve foundations, and on them were the twelve names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb. And the one who spoke with me had a measuring rod of gold to measure the city and its gates and walls. The city lies foursquare, its length the same as its width. And he measured the city with his rod, 12,000 stadia. Its length and width and height are equal. He also measured its wall, 144 cubits by human measurement, which is also an angel’s measurement. The wall was built of jasper, while the city was pure gold, like clear glass. And I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb. And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb.

Revelation 21:10-18, 22-23

To realize the magnitude of this place, we must know that the rough area of this city would cover two-thirds of the continental united states.* It will be an extremely massive city, plenty big to hold all of God’s people if needed, from all nations, languages and cultures. And God will provide its light, while there would be no need for us to go to church because we would be surrounded by God, unable to escape His presence (as if we would ever want to!). We will be together in community, working for God, singing to God and enjoying Him and each other forever.

We can never truly imagine all of what the New Earth will contain, given our perspective from a fallen and sinful earth, but we can be sure it will blow us away. Far more than anything it will be centered around the beauty of God, and finally being in unhindered relationship with Him. However, as best as we can, lets let our imaginations be filled with ideas of what our real home will be like. I believe that doing so will free us from the dark confinements of what our lives often become here on this broken, frail, temporary earth. Our hope will become more fleshed out as we fix our minds on the good things God has planned for us when we come home to celebrate with Him and with each other forever. This is not a boring, intangible place, but a real, physical place with life and light and things to do and see. Don’t be deceived by the Devil’s lies, as he tries to paint it as a boring place you shouldn’t look forward to. God is getting ready with preparations for your Heavenly home. So now the question for you and I is, are we getting ready for it by the way we live here? Are we living lives here that reflect the joy and hope of knowing what God is preparing for us? Lets never stop striving forward for our Heavenly home filled with Heavenly rewards and filled with the very presence of God, the One whom we have risked everything for.

Author: Jeff Oleson

 

 

*Pg 242 in “Heaven”, by Randy Alcorn
For further study on Heaven, read “Heaven” by Randy Alcorn. Along with the Bible, that book was my chief inspiration for this blog post, and has probably impacted my life more than any other book.

Lent: Why Lent is Crazy

Saturday, March 17th, 2012

So I’ve been talking about Lent for a few weeks now, and trying to figure out what real sacrifice looks like—in general, and in my life specifically. And although I’m nowhere close to having it figured out, I think I have come closer to a better understanding of what sacrifice is through my observance of Lent this year.

Here’s what I have figured out: Real sacrifice is crazy. It doesn’t make any logical sense.

The idea of Sacrifice comes from an Old Testament idea of taking something perfectly good (even necessary) and giving it up to be destroyed before God. That sounds really wasteful when you think about it. People would bring the very first part of their crops—which is a big deal when you’ve been waiting all season long to harvest those crops and you live in a society without super markets where you eat basically only what you grow. And instead of satisfying their long wait (and their hunger) immediately, they would do one of two things: either burn that first portion up to ashes, or give it to priests, foreigners, orphans and widows. In the same way, they would take the first calf born of a cow, after they’d raised it, fed it and cared for it, and kill it—but not for dinner. That makes no sense at all.

It makes no sense… unless there is something else going on. That is, it makes no sense unless there is a God who somehow makes something out of this crazy sacrifice. Israelites “ruined” their crops and livestock through sacrifice because they had the craziest of all hopes—that this destruction of what is good would ultimately bring about something even better. Sacrificing their food and animals was a way of saying out loud and from the core of their being that they trusted that God was so very much in charge—not just of the universe, but also their own specific, individual lives—that God would make the world a better place in spite of their loss. Sacrifice was a way of saying that they themselves were not capable of providing what they needed (or what the world needed), but God was.

Next comes Jesus, who really nails down this idea of sacrifice (*pun semi-intentional). Here comes Jesus, healing, forgiving, saying the most wonderful things… And—wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles—He is God-in-the-Flesh, God come to us as one of us. If anyone had the right to a long life, it was Jesus. Imagine all the good He could have done with 30 years of ministry on earth instead of only 3. But—against all apparent reason—Jesus became a sacrifice. He died. That makes absolutely no sense. Just like that grain that was burned up to ashes and those animals that were slaughtered, His life was wasted—and why? Because God is in the business of taking what is good and making it way better. (And if we believe that, shouldn’t we be able to believe that God is in the business of taking what seems not good to us and making it way better?)… While Jesus’ crazy sacrifice is the end of the story we tell during Lent, it is only the beginning of our story. His blood—seemingly wastefully poured out—saved us, healed us, brought forgiveness and reconciliation to all people who are willing to accept it.

Here’s what I have figured out: Sacrifice may be crazy, but the very best things come out of true sacrifice. That’s how God works.

It seems that whenever I get close to figuring out something, I only end up with more questions. Like: What is real sacrifice and what does it look like in my life right now? I would be crazy to try to answer that for you, but I’ve come closer to figuring out the answer for me. Mother Teresa said, “A sacrifice to be real must cost, must hurt, must empty ourselves,” and now I know what that feels like. True Sacrifice is running into the fence of your own limits, and then walking past that fence into the unknown—into the places that don’t make any sense unless you know God is doing something. It’s saying to God, “Fine. Let my life make no sense at all, let it be a failure, let it be wasted, let people think I’m crazy, but above all, let my life be yours.” It’s making like Indiana Jones and stepping out into a canyon you could never actually leap across, trusting somehow there will be a bridge, a parachute, a net—anything that will somehow make it OK, and maybe even better than OK. It’s knowing this: God is in charge. Period.

Here’s what I have figured out: Practicing Lent—and putting real sacrifice into action—is crazy. But even if it doesn’t make sense, I know that God works through sacrifice.

Lent is a time to practice sacrifice and to enter into the wilderness like Jesus did. But the wilderness is an awful place that we want to avoid at all costs… Why on earth would we enter into it willingly? From Ash Wednesday to Easter Sunday, Christians are invited to do without some things they are perfectly capable of having and to take on some things that they are just as capable of avoiding. It doesn’t make sense—unless we believe that God does something here.

Lent is a sacrifice training session. Like any other training, it is really hard, especially because sacrifice itself is hard. But a key ingredient of sacrifice is that when it becomes really difficult, it drives you to faith. Lent is a time to exercise your faith, to focus your eyes on Jesus, the sacrifice that all the rest hinges on. Lent comes from a word meaning “spring”—not just a reference to the natural season before Easter, but also to the growth of the soul which is, as one of my favorite preachers said, “pruned with repentance, fertilized with fasting, spritzed with self-appraisal, mulched with prayer.” If you’ve been trying to grow your soul and haven’t seen any results, then maybe some time in the wilderness is worth a try. You willingly enter into a few weeks of choosing to live on less instead of more, of practicing subtraction instead of addition—not because your regular life is bad but because you want to make sure it is your real life, the one you long to be living, which can be hard to do when you’re living on busyness. And somehow when you willingly go through the wilderness, you lose our appetite for things that cannot save you and learn to trust the Spirit that led you there to lead you out again, ready to worship and serve the Lord your God.

Here’s what I have figured out: Lent is great, but it’s still only the training ground.

Lent gives me a chance to practice Sacrifice by giving to something bigger than myself trusting that blessings come when I don’t put “me” first all the time. But I also want the rest of my life to be punctuated by sacrifice. I want to live in a way that my life doesn’t make any sense except for a crazy hope that God is going to take my mess of a life and turn it into something good for God’s glory. I want to expect miracles from a God who takes my little sacrifices and turns them into a door for the Holy to break into everyday life.

Author: Alicia McClintic

Yearning for Our Home (Heaven, Part 2)

Monday, March 5th, 2012

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” And he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give from the spring of the water of life without payment. The one who conquers will have this heritage, and I will be his God and he will be my son. But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable, as for murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.”

Revelation 21:1-8 ESV

Is it weird that Revelation is one of my favorite books of the Bible? Most people are scared of it because of the things it talks about, the vague imagery, and lakes of fire. But I love how it fixes our eyes on the greatness of God and give us a mental image of our real home. It gives us hope.

However, I must say first off that it is exclusive. Jesus said “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6). Paul later said, “If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved” (Romans 10:9). So I don’t want to deceive anyone by saying that Heaven is a place that all people go to when they die, because it is not. To the contrary, it says “wide is the gate and the way is easy that leads to destruction” (Matthew 7:13). Many people refuse to believe in Jesus as the Lord of their life, and just as many say they believe in Him when they really don’t. Still His invitation is extended to you for you to know Him personally and there is nothing you must do to earn it, but simply say “yes” to Him. A changed life will be evidence of the decision being real.

That being said, for those of us that have accepted Jesus as our Lord and Savior, there is nothing to fear. Nothing. We are assured of our salvation as Paul wrote:

“For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Romans 8:38-39

Do not doubt your salvation. Do not doubt the place that you are going when you die.

Last week I also blogged about Heaven, inspired by a trip to Disneyland, and I feel compelled to continue discussing it. The next thing I want us to consider is why we should set our minds on Heaven. When I talk about how much I love to think about Heaven, many people say things like I just try to focus on the here and now. I’ll just see it when I see it. There’s no way we can know really what it will be like except God will be there. But it’s important to think about what it will really be like, because we want to be excited about it. Later on I’ll discuss truths about the nature of Heaven, but first we must know why we should even care.

The first reason to set our minds on Heaven is that it is our true home and knowing that fact will help us live rightly here. Paul explained how he was an ambassador for Christ. What is an ambassador? It is a person from a foreign land acting on the behalf of his homeland. Ladies and gentlemen, we are ambassadors for Christ. This is not our home and knowing we will one day return should make us live differently. When you go on a trip, do you bring a moving truck? Do you pack your TV or your couch? No, you focus on seeing sights and soaking in experiences. You leave the comforts of home behind because you are on a mission to live your life.

So as we live here, we’re not called to be comfortable but to be missional. It helps knowing that these frail lives we live pass in an instant in comparison with eternity. If being saved were simply about being saved and going to Heaven, God would take us up right as we pray the prayer. “Jesus, I believe! Now beam me up Scotty!” But we know that’s ridiculous. We’re ambassadors. God leaves us here to spread His love and message of redemption through a hurting and broken world. We’re going to Heaven, but are we living here to bring along as many friends as possible? The hope and excitement of knowing we’re going home soon encourages us to live our lives with zeal and purpose now.

Another reason to keep Heaven in the back of our minds is knowing the reward that waits for us there. First and foremost this reward is being able to see God face to face, as it says above in Revelation 21, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man.” Knowing we will one day see this God face to face, who we labor so hard for here, will help us press through. Paul wrote, “Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ” (Colossians 3:23-24). How badly do we want Him to tell us “Well done good and faithful servant” (Matthew 25:23) when we go home to see Him?

Finally, living with Heaven in the back of our minds keeps pain in perspective. Life is hard here, is it not? I keep meeting person after person with difficult medical issues, and young people at that. I have a hard time digesting many foods myself. The curse that we were left with as men was toilsome work that didn’t satisfy (Genesis 3:17-19). Women got painful childbearing and the need to control men (Genesis 3:16), making relationships difficult. Not any better. Here on this earth we have to bury our loved ones. We watch families torn apart. We see people killing other people because of lust for money and power, or because of the color of their skin. We get headaches, backaches and stomachaches. Life is hard.

But there is hope for us, right? Knowing this is temporary should give us perseverance to push through the pain, knowing we are going home where there will be no more pain, God wiping every tear from our eyes (see above Rev. 21). And there have been many people that have gone before us, living this life right knowing they would soon be with God: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:1b-2). Jesus endured the cross for the joy that was set before him, and that joy was being back with His Father at home in Heaven, along with knowing He just opened the door for many adopted siblings to come as well!

Men and women, thinking about Heaven is good and important. Did you know that the word “heaven” appears in the Bible over 600 times?! I’m going to keep writing about this for a few more weeks so that we can more and more vividly paint this picture of our home in our minds. Having a clear vision of our home makes us yearn for it more. For now crack open a Bible. It has more to say about it than you think.

For further study on Heaven, read “Heaven” by Randy Alcorn. Along with the Bible, that book was my chief inspiration for this blog post, and has probably impacted my life more than any other book.

Author: Jeff Oleson

Lent: “What would you do if you knew God was with you?”

Friday, March 2nd, 2012

The Psalm for the first Sunday of Lent: Psalm 25:1-10 (ESV)

To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul. O my God, in you I trust; let me not be put to shame; let not my enemies exult over me. Indeed, none who wait for you shall be put to shame; they shall be ashamed who are wantonly treacherous.

Make me to know your ways, O Lord; teach me your paths. Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; for you I wait all the day long.

Remember your mercy, O Lord, and your steadfast love, for they have been from of old. Remember not the sins of my youth or my transgressions; according to your steadfast love remember me, for the sake of your goodness, O Lord!

Good and upright is the Lord; therefore he instructs sinners in the way. He leads the humble in what is right, and teaches the humble his way. All the paths of the Lord are steadfast love and faithfulness, for those who keep his covenant and his testimonies.

As I was praying through Psalm 25:1-10 this week, it struck me as the prayer of someone who has heard God’s call to set off and go somewhere, but is uncertain of where that “somewhere” might be or of how to move forward. The heart of the prayer seems to be verses 4-5: “Make me to know your ways, O Lord; teach me your paths. Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation.” The problem is not just that the way is unclear, but also that there are threatening forces in the way: the sense of shame that comes if we blunder in the wrong direction (verse 2, 3); our past mistakes and downright sins (verse 7); and in the later part of the Psalm (beyond the verses set for this week), loneliness (verse 16) and other “troubles of the heart” (verse 17). Maybe I’m reading this Psalm this way because that’s exactly how I feel right now—called to go, but uncertain how to follow and sometimes even unsure of the call itself.

Here’s my dilemma: I’ve been praying about going on a mission trip to El Salvador this summer. At first I really felt that God was calling me to go, but then I discovered some things that have made me unsure. I realized that money is going to be a problem. God is asking me to seriously trust him, to trust completely, knowing that I couldn’t possibly get things together on my own. God is putting me in a position to see him come through for me in a big way—but in a way I haven’t seen him come through for me before. To be honest, part of me is scared that maybe God won’t… Do I trust God enough to move forward without my own back-up plan? Also, I realized that going would mean missing a close friend’s wedding this summer. Missing her wedding would be a huge sacrifice for me—bigger than almost anything I can think of—and I found myself wondering whether I could bring myself to go to El Salvador if it would mean missing this. Am I willing to sacrifice even the best and most important things in my life in order to follow God’s call?

Lately, since we’re in the season of Lent, I’ve been thinking about what it means to sacrifice. Trusting completely, learning what significant sacrifice looks and feels like, and living by the grace of God alone and not by what we can supply for ourselves are truly Lenten lessons. Lent is a time to identify ourselves as followers of Christ by taking up our crosses to follow him; it is a time to sacrifice, giving up the things we hold dear for the sake of the One who is far greater. I read once that a life incapable of significant sacrifice is incapable of courageous action. It’s one thing to think about it and talk about it, but quite another to actually do it. When I asked God what significant sacrifice could look like in my life, I didn’t expect to get an answer so quickly, or for the choice to be so difficult. But should it have surprised me? Where did I ever get the idea that following God’s call was going to be an easy choice, or that I wasn’t going to have to sacrifice important things?

Going to El Salvador and saying “yes” to what God might have for me there means trusting in a big way and sacrificing in a big way. And I think that means it’s right… but still I’m struggling with uncertainty. Am I really doing this because God is guiding me? What if I’m wrong about hearing God’s call? What if this is all in my head? A few weeks ago Ryan asked our small group a question that has been hanging in the back of my mind: What would you do if you knew God was with you? I suppose the answer to that question depends on knowing God has called me… What if I’m unsure? How do I move forward then? If my prayer is “Make me to know your ways, O Lord; teach me your paths” (Psalm 25:4-5), I might already have the answer. I know the ways of the Lord are Trust and Obedience, and while the paths of the Lord are ones of Sacrifice they are also “steadfast love and faithfulness” (Psalm 25:10).

This week’s Psalm suggests to me that the answer to this uncertainty of how to move forward is in the character of God himself, the God we know and see in Jesus: God is trustworthy (verse 2); he provides salvation and rescue (verse 5); above all he is merciful and constant in his love (verses 6, 7). N. T. Wright says, “There are times when we need to pick up these attributes of God, almost like picking up a set of large bricks or stones, and place them like stepping stones, one after the other, in the river we are trying to cross. That is part of what it means to ‘wait’ on God (see verse 5). Then we can walk ahead, not because we know the way, or are feeling especially brave, but because we know there is solid ground under our feet…. Obedience arises from that sense of humility which comes when we don’t know the way, but trust that God does” (from Wright’s devotional Lent For Everyone). I don’t have to be sure about every little detail before I say yes—I don’t know the way, but I trust that God does and that “He leads the humble in what is right.”

So, as I’m in the middle of this uncertainty, I’ve been praying this prayer of Thomas Merton’s:

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself. And the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope that I have that desire in all that I am doing. And I know that if I do this, you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always. Though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death, I will not fear, for you are ever with me and you will never leave me to face my perils alone. Amen.

Author: Alicia McClintic

Lent: My Ash Wednesday evangelism and other boldness

Friday, February 24th, 2012

One of my favorite writers, Lauren Winner, says “The imposition of ashes on Ash Wednesday is nothing if not bold.” The whole day is bold, but the ashes themselves are probably the boldest of all—a black smudge on the middle of my forehead, meant to be a sign of my mortality and penitence, and a symbol of both death and resurrection all at once. The ashes smudged in the shape of the cross (although you can’t really tell that) are an undeniable marker of my identity as a Christian. This cross isn’t like one of those necklaces that can be easily tucked under my shirt if I don’t want anyone to see it. I forget that it’s right in the middle of my forehead until I get stares from people in the library and the grocery store. Other than the people at the service with me, I didn’t see anyone else with ashes today, and I felt especially uncomfortable in the university library.

A university is a place devoted to so many kinds of truth, but sometimes it seems to me that I am the only one in my circle of friends here proclaiming this Truth. People here don’t expect someone in graduate school to be religious; I suppose they think that by now I should “know better.” Just on Monday one of my classmates, George, said in the course of class discussion, “I see religion as a way to avoid thinking”; the middle of our Literary Theory class was not an appropriate time for me to contradict him, and I was relieved when the professor quickly and graciously redirected the conversation. As I was leaving the library today, I ran into another classmate—Katie—who, meaning to be helpful, pointed out that I had something on my forehead. “Yah, um, actually… it’s supposed to be there,” I say awkwardly. She tilts her head sideways, her characteristic gesture when confused. “Today is Ash Wednesday… a Christian holiday that starts the beginning of Lent, the season before Easter.” Light dawns. “Oh!” she says. “Do you eat the Christ crouton thing?” We can talk about Jacques Derrida and deconstruction theory, but when it comes to this subject, her vocabulary is lacking. “You mean communion?” I say. “Yes, I do, but we didn’t take communion—which we also call the Eucharist—today.” This is the boldest I have been in evangelizing to my classmates.

When it comes to evangelism—another very bold thing—I’m not the handing-out-tracts kind of person; I hope people see my life and if they notice that I am sometimes joyful or hopeful they will wonder why and then I can then tell them my “secret.” But my normal “lifestyle-evangelism” gets disrupted on Ash Wednesday with this obvious mark on my forehead; I feel revealed, outed, exposed. Sometimes I daydream about maybe teaching at a Christian university (like where I graduated from) where my faith is a given, not a surprise or somehow seen as a contradiction. But for some reason, God seems to have put me here at San Jose State—and I doubt that reason is to get a fancy degree or work with some semi-important people. I think it’s much more likely that God has me here to be a little bit of salt and light. I didn’t pray with anyone today or get anyone to come to church, so maybe my Ash Wednesday evangelism wasn’t really a success. But it did do some work on me, forcing me to face my discomfort with being a Christian on a secular campus. Ash Wednesday has forced me to be bold about my faith today and has challenged me to be this bold in proclaiming the gospel all year round.

But it’s not just the ashes that are bold about this day; it’s the whole liturgy. The liturgy of Ash Wednesday has us make some seriously bold statements: we acknowledge that we are dust and to dust we shall return, but we proclaim that God has chosen us anyway. I feel terribly bold asking for God’s mercy when we pray our confession together: “We confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart, and mind, and strength. We have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We have not forgiven others, as we have been forgiven.” I’m struck with my unworthiness, but I’m reminded of a verse I memorized so long ago in Sunday school that I only know it in the King James Version: “Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:16).  Our prayer of confession today certainly reminds me that I am desperately in need, but still I find the courage to come boldly.

The minister moves slowly down the row of those kneeling for the imposition of ashes. “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return,” he says to each one. The enormity of this statement starts to hit me with each repetition. Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return. Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return. Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return. Then, when it’s my turn, he smudges a cross on my forehead and says it to me this time, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” And as I think about how Christ died for me—me, just a bunch of dust!—my chest hurts like it does when I step outside in the winter and try to breathe air that’s too cold.

But then we read Psalm 103:8-14 together:

“The LORD is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love. He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever; he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us. As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust.” (NIV)

Lent is a time where we are more aware of the role of sin in our lives—how often we fall short of the life God has called us to live. But this awareness of sin is balanced out with an emphasis on the love and acceptance that God still has for humanity—despite the sinful condition we continually find ourselves in. The Lord remembers that we are dust and has compassion on us, mercifully forgives us, loves us, and chooses us anyway. That’s a bold thing to say.

The minister closes the service with a practice called the Passing of the Peace. He says “The Peace of Christ be with you,” and we respond, “And also with you.” Then he asks us to share that peace with each other, so we run around shaking hands with everyone, smiling and saying to each other “The peace of Christ be with you.” (We do this every week and it’s one of my favorite things about a Sunday.) Then he says, “Go in peace to love and serve God.” Go in peace. While I was reminded today that I am only a bunch of dust, I was also reminded that God remembers that I am dust and is gracious and merciful to me in spite of it. God even makes beautiful things out of dust. That might be the boldest thing of all.

Author: Alicia McClintic

Lent: a season of sacrifice

Friday, February 17th, 2012

The seasons of the church calendar and the liturgy that accompanies them are for me the rhythms that draw the sacred down into my everyday life. As we are getting ready to start the season of Lent—the forty days before Easter—I have been overwhelmed by the way God has been preparing my heart for it through everything from Ryan’s messages on Sundays to random conversations with strangers.

Lent includes a few distinct periods: Ash Wednesday (February 22 this year) is the first day of Lent; some Christians participate in a service where they are marked on the forehead with ashes as a sign of repentance. The five weeks of Lent are a time for us to consider our need for a Savior, and many Christians participate in some form of fasting and giving. Holy Week is our annual remembrance of the events surrounding Jesus’ death and resurrection, including Palm Sunday (celebrating Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem), Maundy Thursday (the Last Supper, and Jesus’ new commandment to love one another), Good Friday (the crucifixion and death of Jesus), and Holy Saturday (a day of quiet when Jesus lay in the tomb). Lent ends with Easter, our celebration of Jesus’ resurrection.

While Lent is not a practice specifically mentioned in the Bible (you won’t find it in your Bible’s dictionary or concordance), it has its roots in the earliest days of Christian practice. When the early church leaders realized that Christians had become too comfortable and complacent, someone suggested it was time to call them back to their senses, and the Bible offered some clues about how to do that. Lent recalls the 40 days Noah spent on the ark, the 40 days Moses spent listening to God give the law, the 40 years Israel spent wandering in the desert learning to trust God, the 40 days Elijah spent in the wilderness before hearing God’s still, small voice, the 40 days Jonah did penance for Nineveh, and the 40 days Jesus spent fasting in the desert and being tempted by Satan. All these times spent in the desert and the wilderness were awful, but if we learn anything from how often this practice is repeated it is that this time in the wilderness is necessary for our faith.

Lent is the season for confessing our sin and brokenness, and Lent teaches us that true wholeness comes through sacrifice. Lent is in many ways about death—death to ourselves and our desires in preparation to remember the tremendous sacrifice of Jesus’ own death for us. But that’s not the whole story. Lent reminds us that we must die in order to fully live; it is not simply death, but death in order to be reborn. Nature echoes this paradox: seeds must die to grow, stars die to birth galaxies. Jesus himself said we must die to live. If we live in a constant state of self-indulgence we will never live a whole life. When we deny ourselves, die to our wants and needs, wholeness seeps into us and we can live the good, full life that Jesus promised to us.

I was specifically reminded about Lent by Ryan’s sermon last Sunday, “What if we all had the TIME?” (if you missed it, listen to the podcast here, and if you were there you already know it’s worth a re-listen). I’ve recently realized how cluttered I have let my life become, and Ryan reminded me that relationships, especially my relationship with God, cannot exist without margin. If I have filled up all the spaces of my life with my own junk, then I have left no space for God to meet with me or to move in me. “If you are feeling dry, lost, unable to hear or see God,” Ryan said, “could it be that you are not seeing God move in your life because you have filled up all the margin? When you create margin for God, God will create margin for you.” This is the point of Lent.

Lent is about giving something up in order to create space for God—space for you to acknowledge God’s presence, space for God to meet with you and you with God, space to grow and to be changed. This is time for us to get away—to spend time in the wilderness, so to speak—so that when Resurrection Day comes, our hearts are ready for it, better able to understand the enormity of Christ’s sacrifice and more ready to be changed by it because we have sacrificed something ourselves.

Lent is a time to realign our lives and to reclaim the margin. This is a season to create new habits, learn new rhythms—and to unlearn all the harmful habits and rhythms we’ve picked up lately. All of us are addicted to something. Lent asks us to identify God as the most important thing in our lives by labeling our addictions and crutches and letting God replace them. In setting aside our addictions we set our priorities straight and learn what it means to put God at the center of everything. We learn what it is like to live by the grace of God alone and not by what we can supply for ourselves.

The most traditional observation of Lent is fasting. My Catholic friends fast from meat on Fridays in addition to giving up some other thing, but a Lenten sacrifice could be anything. One of my “addictions” is chocolate, so one year I gave up desserts for Lent. Others I know have fasted from soda or from eating out or even from shopping. I’ve fasted from media, too, turning the time I would have been spending watching TV or on the internet into space for prayer and reflection. Ryan challenged us to a media fast last week—you could continue that media fast throughout the season of Lent. Modify it if you need to, like limiting your consumption of media to only an hour a day, for example. Consider giving up that daily trip to Starbucks and donating the money you save to a cause. “Significant Sacrifice” is a movement prepared by Lifewater International, encouraging you to fast from a luxury item (your cup of coffee, cable, using your car when you could walk) during Lent, and to donate the money you save toward fresh water in third world countries (watch this video for more information and ideas).

Lent is also a time to consider adding a spiritual discipline to your life. I think silence is one of the most frightening things for us, but it is necessary for the care of the soul. One year for Lent I practiced the spiritual disciplines of silence and solitude, spending Saturday afternoons and evenings in silence and breaking my silence on Sunday morning at church so the first words out of my mouth were literally songs of worship. Last year I was commuting more often and longer distances than I ever had before and I loved listening to music and NPR while driving; for Lent I gave up listening to the radio in my car and used that quiet time to listen to God instead. It shouldn’t be surprising that I was able to hear God more when I turned down all the other noise in my life.

Both in ancient times and today, Lent is an opportunity to consider our lives, remember our need for a Savior, and release things that have become an obstacle to trusting God. Fasting or praying during Lent does not impress God or earn God’s approval; instead, it helps us remember that we are saved by Christ alone and we are shaped as we share in His sufferings. If you have never participated in anything like this before, I’d like to challenge you to try it. You don’t have to give up something huge, but it should be something important (giving up bacon isn’t much of a sacrifice if you’re already a vegetarian). Ultimately, the point is to create space—margin—for God to move and speak in your life. And I guarantee that if you habitually create that space, God will show up—or maybe you will realize that God has been there all along but you were just too busy or too distracted to notice.

*Here are some resources that have been really helpful for me about fasting and spiritual disciplines. This year the scheduled scripture readings for Lent include a lot of passages from the gospel of Mark—consider reading through Mark and re-living the life, work, death, and resurrection of Jesus during Lent.

Author: Alicia McClinitic