Beyond the Sun

He had done life both ways–pursuing wisdom and going after folly. He was a thinker, knowing that life was meant to be lived and that there were different ways to live it. And he had the smarts to devise experiments that would maximize his experience. What’s more, he had the means to make the world his laboratory. And so, he said to himself, “Self, I will test you with pleasure; enjoy yourself” (Eccl. 2:1).

And enjoy himself he did. He laid hold of folly (2:3). He drank hard. He worked hard. He made whatever he wanted to make. Accumulated whatever he wanted to accumulate. Enjoyed whatever he wanted to enjoy.

Whatever his eyes desired, he gave them. Whatever his brain could think for his hands to do, he did it. And his heart found pleasure in all his toil (2:4-10).

Eventually, he sat back and considered all that his hands had done. Noodled on all that he had to show for the energy and expense he had put out. Evaluated which way was better–the way of wisdom or the way of folly–and concluded:

. . . that there is more gain in wisdom than in folly, as there is more gain in light than in darkness.

(Ecclesiastes 2:13 ESV)

Wisdom is better than folly. He knew that. But, in the end, he was frustrated.

Though he added a ton of experiential knowledge to his already vast knowledge reserves, though he had grown in wisdom through what he had been a first-hand witness to, though he knew wisdom was the better way than folly, when all was said and done . . . he was done!

Then I considered all that my hands had done and the toil I had expended in doing it, and behold, all was vanity and a striving after wind, and there was nothing to be gained under the sun . . . Then I said in my heart, “What happens to the fool will happen to me also. Why then have I been so very wise?” And I said in my heart that this also is vanity. For of the wise as of the fool there is no enduring remembrance, seeing that in the days to come all will have been long forgotten. How the wise dies just like the fool!

(Ecclesiastes 2:11, 15-16 ESV)

Under the sun. It’s the great equalizer.

Whether you go the way of wisdom or go the way of folly, if all there is is what’s under the sun, then there’s nothing to be gained. If life’s purpose is nothing more than to somehow get through life, then it really doesn’t matter how you go about it. If the wisest of the wise is eventually forgotten like the greatest of fools, then what’s it all for?

I’m reading Solomon’s thought processing and I realize afresh that if we are not living lives that are eternal, if we are not laying up treasures for a life beyond this life, if we are not anticipating that whatever happens and gets done during our earthbound years is just setting the stage for real life afterwards, then so what?!? What difference does it make if the entire game, set, and match are played and won, or lost, only under the sun?

Doesn’t matter what you do, how much you make, how many toys you acquire, or even how much you invest in, or give away to good causes, if it’s all contained to what’s under the sun, then it’s vanity, a striving after wind.

That’s why heavenly minded people can be of such earthly good, because they live life in the context of a future–a forever, glorious future. Knowing that what’s done today will have implications which last forever. Sure, some stuff will get burned up in the transition from this life to the next, but other stuff will come through the fire that tests our lives as “gold, sliver, precious stones” worthy of eternal reward (1Cor. 3:10-15). That’s why we choose wisdom.

Wisdom is better than folly.

Solomon verified that through his life experiments. But if life is only lived under the sun, then it doesn’t really matter. However, if life, true life, abundant life, extends beyond the sun, then the wisdom of God and the ways of God are not only better for this life, but for the life to come.

And the One who is Wisdom personified is worthy of our allegiance.

. . . but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.

(1Corinthians 1:23-24 ESV)

. . . that their hearts may be encouraged, being knit together in love, to reach all the riches of full assurance of understanding and the knowledge of God’s mystery, which is Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.

(Colossians 2:2-3 ESV)

Wisdom is better, Christ is better. And life–our forever life–is better . . . when we live with our minds set beyond the sun.

That’s just smart thinking. Amen?

By His grace. For His glory.

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Living Life on the Edge

They stood at the foot of the mount and they trembled. Though they were so close they could touch it, they didn’t dare. The blazing fire emanating from it, the darkness and gloom hovering over it, the tempest swirling about it–all indicating that, while this was holy ground, it was too holy for anything unholy to be near. And then there was the sound of the trumpet, the voice from on high, which made the hearers beg for no more messages to be spoken to them. With dread they understood why they had been told, “If even a beast touches the mountain, it shall be stoned” (Heb. 12:18-21).

And, this morning, the writer to the Hebrews reminds me that we too stand at the foot of a mountain. That we live life on the edge.

But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect . . .

(Hebrews 12:22-23 ESV)

If I let my mind just focus on things of this earth, right now I’m sitting at my desk with a book and a computer before me. But if I set my mind on things that are above (Col. 3:2), I am standing at the foot of a mountain. If I bring every thought into captivity, allowing the word of God to be illuminated by the Spirit of God on the things of God, I am on the outer perimeter of promised Mount Zion, the city of the living God. I am doing life on the edge.

Far from being repelled by the terror of getting too close to the holiest of holy places, I have been declared holy myself, and so, draw near with confidence. I don’t see darkness and dread awaiting those who would dare venture closer to the hill, but, instead, anticipate with longing that day when I am beckoned to ascend, knowing that what awaits are innumerable angels in festal gathering, and a grand reunion with those who are already enrolled in heaven–my spirit being welcomed to join the spirits of the righteous made perfect.

That’s the mountain that I stand at the edge of this morning. The holy hill I see today by faith as in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; the place I know of now only in part, but one day soon to be fully known, even as I will be fully known (1Cor. 13:12).

And I hangout at the border of such a majestic kingdom, with absolute certainty of my place in it, not because of who I am or because of what I’ve done. Not because of my own worthiness or righteousness. Not because I’ve negotiated some deal which guarantees my entrance. But I know I can come to Mount Zion because I have also come . . .

. . . to Jesus, the Mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.

(Hebrews 12:24 ESV)

I can camp out at the border of heaven because of a Mediator better than Moses, a promise better than the Law, and a sacrifice better than any offered ever by any man.

I stand at the edge of eternity because I sit at the feet of Jesus. Unafraid of interacting with holy ground because I have been robed with His righteousness. Not driven away by fear, nor complacently content to remain at a distance, but wanting to get as close to heaven, while on earth, as is possible. To peer through whatever knot-hole in the fence I can find and behold whatever I can glimpse of the kingdom.

Because I have come to Jesus, I can live life on the edge–at the foot of Mount Zion, the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem. I can live life on the edge of eternity.

Only because of God’s grace. Solely for God’s glory.

Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe.

(Hebrews 12:28 ESV)

Amen?

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The Creator of All Things

Came across a phrase this morning which jumped off the page. Not because I wasn’t familiar with it, but because I was. But what made it pop was that it showed up in the “wrong place.” Not just in a chapter I didn’t expect it to be found, but in a book where I never knew it existed. And not just in a different book of my bible, but in a whole different section of my bible–the Old Testament. What I had been very familiar with as a New Testament command showed up this morning as an Old Testament creation.

And so, it jumped off the page . . . and I sat back in my chair . . . and smiled to myself and said, “Self, He really is the Creator of all things.”

Through [Jesus] then let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge His name. (Hebrews 13:15 ESV)

“I have seen [the backslider’s] ways, but I will heal him; I will lead him and restore comfort to him and his mourners, creating the fruit of the lips. Peace, peace, to the far and to the near,” says the LORD, “and I will heal him.” (Isaiah 57:18-19 ESV)

The fruit of the lips. I’ve know about it for a long time from Hebrews. I discovered it afresh this morning in Isaiah.

For years I have been aware that our praise is viewed in heaven as a sacrifice. Available to every believer, it is to be offered continually before our God. Kind of like the incense always burning in the holy place (Ex. 30:1-8).

But the aha! for me this morning is that, while it might be mine to give, my offering of praise, like so many other things, is also a gift sourced by Another. That what is to be offered to God has, in fact, been created by God. He is the Creator of all things, even the fruit of the lips.

Any fruit I have to offer is only because the high and lifted up One, who inhabits eternity and dwells in the high and holy place, has, in His steadfast love and abounding grace, also determined to dwell with “him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit”–and does so in order to “revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite” (Isa. 57:15).

Though He knows the tendencies of the backslider’s way (aka the guy sitting in this chair), He has also purposed not to contend forever, “nor will He always be angry” (57:16), but with compassion He will discipline them (Heb. 12:6-11) so that, with mercy, He can heal them, lead them, and restore them. And thus, creating the fruit of their lips.

His restoration is the source of our response. The salvation He has promised becomes the catalyst for our sacrifice of praise. His unfailing love and abiding grace are the seeds which bear the fruit of our lips.

He is the Creator of all things — even the fruit of our lips.

Of course, He is! I knew that. Oh, how thankful I am that I’ve been reminded of that.

To Him be all glory. For He is the Source, the only source, of such amazing grace.

Amen?

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Something Better for Us

What they did, they did because of faith. How they performed was the fruit of believing what was promised. How they responded to their life’s circumstance, based on what they reckoned to be true concerning their life’s future. What they lived for, a function of what they longed for.

. . . of whom the world was not worthy . . . (Hebrews 11:38a ESV)

You just have to sit back and pause after reading Hebrews 11. To put aside a few moments and allow your eyes to scan again the page and take note of the who’s who of redemption’s story–the pillars of faith upon which our faith is built. To take note again of the tales of heroism, sacrifice, and endurance. And all but for a promise that they never received. A land they never truly inhabited. A rest they never fully found. A Messiah who was never really, clearly identified, much less actually seen.

However, what they did know, what they had received, was enough for them to look forward to a better city (11:10), desire a better country (11:16), pursue a better reward (11:26), so that they might “rise again to a better life” (11:35). Of whom the world was not worthy.

But these inductees to Faith’s Hall of Fame lived on the other side of the cross. The side of types that pointed to something they couldn’t imagine. Navigating life in the shadows of a sacrifice to end all sacrifices; a way into the holy of holies that would forever rend the barricading curtain; a Priest who would forever mediate a perfect peace with God; and a priesthood, of which they would be part, that would forever congregate, unstained and unashamed, before the throne of God. They lived in the shadow of the cross.

We, however, live in the full glory of the cross. Thus, there is something better for us.

And all these, though commended through their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better for us, that apart from us they should not be made perfect.

(Hebrews 11:39-40 ESV)

They looked forward to what the types and shadows sought to speak of. We look back on an empty tomb and hear afresh the cry, “It is finished!” They saw the cloud descend upon the tabernacle and wondered at the manner of glory that dwelt under the cherub’s wings. We know of the Son who came down–Immanuel, God with us–and have beheld His glory, making a way for us to boldly enter before God’s glorious throne of grace. They encountered the power in their pilgrimage through the desert. We are indwelt by the Power as we sojourn to our destination. They waited and anticipated the Messiah who was to reign, we remember Jesus who conquered sin and death, ascended on high, and is soon to return with ruling majesty and power.

As inspiring as these OT saints are, God has provided something better for us.

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 12:1-2 ESV)

Look to Jesus! Something better for us.

Let us, anew, rejoice in His amazing grace!

Let us, by faith, continue to live for His all-deserving glory!

Amen?

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An Optical Conviction

I’m no Greek scholar. Not even close. But I do know how to use a lexicon and look up a number associated with an English word which points to someone else’s expertise on how to understand it in the original language. And I think I know enough that when a Greek word is used but once in the New Testament, it’s probably a pretty special word. That of all the words that could have been used, the Spirit moves the author to choose one unlike any other. That though it may be translated into English the same way as other words, at its core it’s unique, having a particular quality, and thus carrying a particular weight.

Found one of those words this morning.

By faith [Moses] left Egypt, not being afraid of the anger of the king, for he endured as seeing Him who is invisible.

(Hebrews 11:27 ESV)

Moses endured. That’s the word, endured.

Whether you understand this as Moses’ first departure from Egypt (based on the chronology of Hebrews 11), or his second (because the first time, it’s argued, he did leave in fear), what’s emphasized here is that Moses endured.

And the original word translated endure, kartereo, is only found here. A one of. Uniquely chosen. After leaving Egypt, Moses remained steadfast, in a particularly steadfast way. He stayed strong, in the strongest sense. He persevered with patience, with the most persevering of patience. Kept right on going (MSG, NLT), with a keeping that was uniquely compelling.

He ran the race. He fought the fight. Woke up every morning ready to give ‘er . . . regardless of yesterday’s reality or the coming day’s uncertainty. Though an easier way may have seemed to be beckoning, though an exit strategy may have started to form, Moses would keep on keepin’ on–and that, because of faith and what he was able to see with the eyes of faith.

. . . seeing Him who is invisible.

Moses saw God by faith. And it wasn’t some self-deceiving, cloudy figment of his imagination, but the God convincing, concrete foundation of divine revelation. Moses, by faith, saw Him who is invisible.

And isn’t that the nature of faith? Not some optical illusion, but an optical conviction.

We walk by something better than sight, we walk by faith (2Cor. 5:7). Setting our minds on things above (Col. 3:2), we the see things which are from above. Anticipating the glory to come, we behold the glory as though it were already here.

We look not to things that are seen, but to those things unseen, and that which is eternal comes into focus (2Cor. 4:18). Even though what we see now we “see in a mirror dimly” (1Cor. 13:12a), our anticipation of one day seeing face to face results in us beholding, even now, Him who is invisible.

Faith giving us an optical conviction. And what we see resulting in an almost unexplainable endurance–so much so that it needs it’s own unique word.

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace.

Hellen H. Lemmel, 1922

By His grace. For His glory.

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Blessed Assurance

Hovering over the first part of Hebrews 11. What a glorious chapter. What a grounding chapter. A soul-stirring reminder that, when all is said and done, we walk by faith and not by sight.

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. (Hebrews 11:1 ESV)

Not gonna lie, still prefer the good old King James on this one, that faith is the substance of what we hope for. It is the secret sauce which makes the unseen seen, the intangible tangible, the theoretical practical, that which many think is but “pie in the sky” the foundation for life on earth. The CSB says that faith is the reality. Peterson, in The Message, that it is the fundamental fact of existence. Faith is the assurance. The blessed assurance!

For by faith things happen. By faith Enoch was taken up, a testimony for the ages of God’s power over death and the hope of those who walk in a manner that pleases Him (11:5). By faith Sarah received power to conceive a child though way past the age of conceiving. A witness to God’s power over life and His faithfulness to those who trust in His promises (11:11-12).

And by faith things get done. Belief translating into behavior. By faith Abel offered to God an acceptable sacrifice (11:4). By faith Noah constructed an ark (11:7). And, by faith Abraham obeyed and went to live in a place that God would show him–not knowing where he was going (11:8).

Spoken promises resulting in concrete actions. Invisible hope yielding a visible reality. And all because of faith.

That’s just how the people of God roll.

And without faith it is impossible to please Him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that He exists and that He rewards those who seek Him. (Hebrews 11:6 ESV)

Because we believe, we draw near to God and seek Him. Because He exists, He rewards. Faith being the substantive dynamic which brings it all together.

That’s why the gospel is the power of God for salvation–because it is “from faith for faith” and so, those declared righteous in Christ live by faith (Rom. 1:16-17).

God’s faithfulness known through our faith.

And so, faith is what keeps us keepin’ on. Truly the substance of what we anticipate. The blessed assurance of what we hope for.

Because of grace. For His glory.

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Paradise

It would have been cruel if not true. The worst thing that could have been spoken if, in fact, it wasn’t the best. Only adding to the suffering, if it had no substance.

And he said, “Jesus, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.” And He said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise.”

(Luke 23:42-43 ESV)

They had just met but would end up spending the rest of their earthly lives together. Not much in common, save for their current circumstance, yet they would enter into an eternal relationship. Through the course of a brief conversation–and that as they both hung on a cross–a mere criminal and the magnificent Christ would soon walk together in a beautiful garden experiencing an indescribable communion.

Today you will be with Me in Paradise.

I’ve read those words before . . . many times. Very familiar with the story of the two thieves who were crucified with Jesus. Aware of many of the lessons implied through this brief encounter of the divine kind: that salvation doesn’t require baptism; that saving works can’t factor into a certain eternity as the thief had no opportunity to do anything but demonstrate saving faith; that while the body may sleep after death, the soul doesn’t–for “today” the thief would be aware of walking with the Savior in a land of bliss; that one thief was saved at the eleventh hour so that none may despair, but that only one was saved so that none might presume; and that what makes Paradise paradise is being up close and personal with Jesus.

But this morning those words, “Today you will be with Me in Paradise” hits me like a ton of bricks. A ton of wonder-invoking, awe-infusing, worship-resulting bricks.

Not just because of the grace shown, but also because of the place to be known. Paradise.

Only mentioned three times in the New Testament. The place where Paul was taken up to, also referred to as the third heaven, where he was tutored one-on-one by the risen Savior who had commissioned him, hearing “inexpressible words, which it is not lawful for a man to utter” (2Cor. 12:2-4). The Eden-like garden which is home to the tree of life, from which those who hold fast to their first love will be given to eat of fruit found only “in the Paradise of God.” And the place, where the thief awoke after death, with Christ. Absent from the body, but present with the Lord (2Cor. 5:6-8).

A last-minute mustard seed of faith sown, “Remember me when You come into your kingdom”, bears the eternal harvest of being forever in the presence of God.

What amazing grace. What unfathomable, unbounded, undeserved grace.

What assurance of faith. That the finished work of the cross is fully sufficient to secure my place in His kingdom.

What unwavering hope. That though death separates us from the places and people of this world, we will always be with the Lord (1Thess. 4:17).

What steadfast love. That He who bought me with His blood, desires to be with Me as His bride.

Paradise. What will it be like? I can only imagine.

By His grace. For His glory.

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Remedy for a Deluded Heart

Crazy! That’s what it is. Isaiah doesn’t use the word, but that’s kind of what he’s saying. Crazy!

Give your head a shake, man! The same tree that you cut down and burn for fuel, you also fashion into a god and worship. Half you burn in the fire, and the other half, before it you fall. What you don’t deliver to become ashes you design as an idol, and to it you cry, “Deliver me, for you are my god!”

How does that make any sense at all? How does the inanimate have such rule over a living being fashioned in the image of the living God? Short answer: a deluded heart.

They know not, nor do they discern, for He has shut their eyes, so that they cannot see, and their hearts, so that they cannot understand. No one considers, nor is there knowledge or discernment to say, “Half of it I burned in the fire; I also baked bread on its coals; I roasted meat and have eaten. And shall I make the rest of it an abomination? Shall I fall down before a block of wood?” He feeds on ashes; a deluded heart has led him astray, and he cannot deliver himself or say, “Is there not a lie in my right hand?”

(Isaiah 44:19-20 ESV)

The sub-heading in my Bible says The Folly of Idolatry. How true.

It makes no sense. But what power the worship of gods that are no gods can have over the hearts and minds of people. How deep is the pit it baits. How firm a grip the trap it lures the undiscerning into. So that its victims essentially try and feed on ashes. Becoming prey beyond the ability to deliver themselves. A deluded heart having led them astray.

What a warning of the insidious allure and entanglement of idols in the lives of men and women. Those things that are pursued to such a degree that they command a person’s allegiance–as evident in their priorities and where their time, talents, and treasures are spent. Things that displace worship, sucking away the love and adoration intended for the only One worthy of our love and adoration. Things that harden the heart, making callous the spirit, deceptively saying, “This is life,” when, in fact, they are no life at all. Things that so consume the heart that, eventually, God gives the heart over to its fake gods (Rom. 1:24, 26, 28). The result? Eyes that are shut and cannot see. A heart that is hard, unable to understand.

A deluded heart. A deceiving heart. A heart that leads astray. Cheating both God and man of worship that is true worship. Offering meaningless counterfeits instead of a cause which is a true cause. Faking death as life and robbing those created for life of the life which is true life, life to the full.

So gripping the man, so enveloping the woman, that they cannot deliver themselves, unable to recognize that they are holding onto a lie.

But what idol worshipers are unable to do for themselves, the God worthy of worship is able to do for them. To bring sight to the blind. To bring clarity to the deceived. To remove the darkness and replace it with light.

And our part? Ours is to return to Him.

I have blotted out your transgressions like a cloud and your sins like mist; return to Me, for I have redeemed you.

(Isaiah 44:22 ESV)

The remedy for a deluded heart? His redemption.

The way of escape of idolatry’s allure and entrapment? “Return to Me!”

By His grace. For His glory.

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Eagerly Waiting

Pull together a group of believers, ask them to brainstorm what marks a Christian, and, I’m guessing, the answers will come flying pretty easily. Born again, forgiven, adopted, disciples, filled with the Spirit. Bought, blessed, and being made like Jesus. Declared righteous, being made righteous. Called holy, becoming holier. People of faith, hope, and love. Graced, gifted, and going to heaven. And the list would continue to build. But I’m wondering how quickly, or how predominantly, would come to mind that we should also be marked by being a people who live in anticipation? And not just waiting complacently for what’s next, but are eagerly waiting.

And just as it is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment, so Christ, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, will appear a second time, not to deal with sin but to save those who are eagerly waiting for Him.

(Hebrews 9:27-28 ESV)

Jesus is coming again. He will appear a second time. Showing up on this earthly scene just as undeniably as He did the first time–to forever be a fact of history. Showing up, though, in a far grander, far more widespread manner. Not just being born in a small town in a small country having to rely on the testimony of those who were with Him to bear witness of Him. But coming “in the clouds” with such glory that “every eye will see Him” (Rev. 1:7). Coming so undeniably as Creator and King that every knee will bow before Him, “in heaven and on earth and under the earth” (Php. 2:10).

The same Christ, whose first coming we remember frequently, will appear a second time, assuredly. Not to deal with the penalty and power of sin, but to save from the very presence of sin. To take His own home. To present His Bride to her Bridegroom.

And if we really believed what we say we believed, then wouldn’t we be marked as a people who are eagerly waiting?

Eagerly awaiting the “revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ” (1Cor. 1:7). Eagerly awaiting the finalization of our adoption as sons and daughters of God, “the redemption of our bodies” (Rom. 8:23-25). Eagerly awaiting “the hope of righteousness” (Gal. 5:5), the physical realization of being justified and declared holy–that is, actually standing in His holy presence. Eagerly awaiting stepping foot in the land of our true citizenship, heaven itself, from where we eagerly await “a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Php. 3:20).

We should be marked as a people who are eagerly waiting. People of expectation. People of anticipation. People who awake each morning, regardless of circumstance of situation, and whisper to ourselves, “Perhaps today!”

Oh, that God would make us such people. That the indwelling Spirit would, today, make tomorrow so real. That we would be so heavenly minded we couldn’t help but be of earthly good.

Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when He appears we shall be like Him, because we shall see Him as He is. And everyone who thus hopes in Him purifies himself as He is pure.

(1John 3:2-3 ESV)

We shall behold Him! We shall be like Him!

I can’t wait. How ’bout you?

Eagerly waiting . . . by His grace . . . for His glory.

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A Fish In Water

When it’s all you’ve known, you can’t really appreciate how it might be any other way. It’s kind of like trying to explain water to a fish (if you could explain such things to a fish). All they’ve known is water. It’s what they were born into, what they breath, that in which they live. If a fish were able to cognitively process such stuff, you’d still have a pretty hard time explaining to them what it’s like to live on land and breath air. Not many reference points, really. It would be pretty hard for them to get it. Unless of course, you took them out of the water, tossed them onto the beach, and said try living now.

But why, you might ask, is he talking about explaining water to a fish? Did he not get enough sleep last night?

I’ve been reading again in Hebrews 8 this morning and noodling on the wonder of the new covenant.

For if that first covenant had been faultless, there would have been no occasion to look for a second. For He finds fault with them when He says: “Behold, the days are coming, declares the Lord, when I will establish a new covenant . . . For this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, declares the Lord: I will put My laws into their minds, and write them on their hearts, and I will be their God, and they shall be My people. And they shall not teach, each one his neighbor and each one his brother, saying, ‘Know the Lord,’ for they shall all know Me, from the least of them to the greatest. For I will be merciful toward their iniquities, and I will remember their sins no more.”

(Hebrews 8:7-12 ESV)

The new covenant is the water to this fish seating in this chair. It’s what I was born again into. It’s all I have ever breathed since being brought into life from death. It’s the only way I’ve known to live as a child of God. Hard for me to really understand being “the people of God” any other way. Pretty hard for me to fully imagine what it was like to try and do life under the old covenant and honestly, I’m so used to being in water, that I almost never think about any other way of doing life, and life to the full.

What was it like to live under, “Obey and be blessed. Disobey and pay the price”? Don’t really know. Like I said, I was born again into the water of the new covenant.

I live and breath a reality dictated by an unconditional promised based on a once for all finished work which is sealed and sustained by an ever present Helper.

A Helper who puts God’s law into my mind, and writes His ways on my heart. All the while, reminding me that I have been adopted as His child forever. That God has purposed to be my God. And I, through no merit of my own, will be His people.

Because of His sovereign determination and His thoroughly, saving deliverance, while I may need instruction in fully understanding how to live in water, I don’t really need anyone to say to me, “Know the water’s Provider.” For because of the Spirit of God in me, I know the God who is Father, Son, and Spirit. Deep, deep within, I know Him, because of this water, this better covenant in which I live and breath.

Make sense?

Sure, I know what it is like to live outside of Christ, but that was in a state “alienated from the commonwealth of Israel,” a stranger to any covenant of promise, “having no hope and without God in the world” (Eph. 2:12). But as long as I have been with God, ever since I’ve no longer been a stranger, it has always been under the new covenant, the better covenant mediated by a better High Priest enacted on better promises (Heb. 8:6). That’s the only way I’ve known life as a child of God.

But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. (Ephesians 2:13 ESV)

In Christ Jesus . . . that’s my water. That’s the spiritual ecosystem this fish swims in. One founded on a better promise, one made possible by a better sacrifice, one perpetuated by a better, and more reliable, active agency, the indwelling Holy Spirit.

Oh, what a salvation!

Let us breath deep of the water of His grace.

Let us keep swimming by the indwelling Power He has provided for His glory.

Amen?

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