Category: Devotional

God’s Promises Are So Much Better Than We Think

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

God has made promises to his people, and they are staggering. The fact that we don’t consider them staggering means either that we haven’t taken them seriously or that we haven’t meditated on the first chapter of 2 Peter in a while.

All Needful Things

Peter begins this letter telling his readers that in his power God “has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness.” All of these things come “through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence” (2 Pet 1:3).

Think of it—there is nothing pertaining to life and godliness that our heavenly father has withheld. We lack no access, no privilege, no resources to live a life which glorifies God. The vehicle through which these resources come is the “knowledge of [Jesus],” which we should understand as the Scriptures and the testimony of the Holy Spirit.

What Promises!

Peter gets more specific after this, pointing his finger at one category of essential resources for godly living: God’s promises.

by which he has granted to us his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire. (2 Peter 1:4)

In context, this verse is full of great encouragement regarding the promises of God. Let’s take a look at five characteristics of these promises.

Precious Promises

God’s promises are precious. By this Peter means that they are of immense value to believers. They fill the bank account of our souls with great riches because they point to what is true and eternal.

When something is precious it is also treasured or cherished. God’s promises are words we should hold close and consider frequently. Rather than keep them in a museum-quality display case, they are meant to be picked up and examined with awe from every angle and in every light.

Very Great Promises

God’s promises are very great. These are no small assurances! God’s promises are vast and sweeping, like a roaring river kicking foam up onto its banks.

I love the emphasis Peter puts on this adjective—God’s promises are not just great, they are very great. They are far better than anything we’d wish for.

His Promises

Perhaps this is obvious, but sometimes what is obvious is useful to state: God’s promises are his. They come from God himself, guaranteed by his name and his word. His promises cannot fail because God cannot fail. God spoke all of these promises, and not a single one was an accident, an exaggeration, or a hastily-made effort to appease. God meant every last word of every promise he has made.

Partake of the Divine Nature

If you doubted that God’s promises were very great, hold onto your hat. Through God’s promises he intends for us to “become partakers of the divine nature.”

This may seem like an unattainable (or even an unintended) plane of existence. On its surface, this isn’t anything I’d long for or request.

But what Peter has in mind is likely echoed elsewhere in Scripture. The writer to the Hebrews tells us that God disciplines his children “that we may share his holiness” (Heb 12:10). John also tells us that “when he appears we shall be like him” (1 John 3:2).

God’s promises won’t make us divine, but they do provide strength and light along the path to growing in divine qualities, like holiness, goodness, and love.

Escape from Corruption

Partaking of the divine nature is not the first result of holding onto God’s promises. Rather, this happens as we escape “the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire.” (The end of the verse lends weight to linking “partaking of the divine nature” to growing in holiness.)

In their best moments, what Christian doesn’t want to escape the corruption of the world and grow in holiness? If you desire these things, Peter is pointing you to God’s promises. Of all the things that pertain to life and godliness which God has provided, his promises are among the most powerful.

Life Through the Promises

God’s promises are far from the only important aspects of Scripture. But they are vital to our faith, and we ignore them at our own peril.

Because God’s promises are central to our faith and hope, we should take care to identify and cling to them. I plan to discuss both of these aspects of God’s promises in future articles.

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The Gospel Gives Us Courage

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

The gospel of Jesus Christ brings to us an abundance of gifts. When we believe, we have new life; we have the forgiveness of our sins; we are new people, made part of the body of Christ, the church.

But the blessings of the gospel keep on coming, some of which we may not realize until months or years later.

In particular, the gospel gives us courage.

Courage to Approach God

Believing the gospel involves confessing our sin, and once we begin to glimpse our sin, we realize a portion of its horror. In the presence of our holy God, and without a mediator, this sin would electroshock our hearts, leaving us quivering on the ground. We would only fear God’s judgment, knowing we don’t belong anywhere near him.

But the gospel tells us that we now “have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous” (1 John 2:1). He is “the propitiation for our sins” (1 John 2:2), meaning that he absorbed God’s wrath that we deserved.

This changes everything!

We now have confidence to go to God. We can “with confidence draw near to the throne of grace” for “help in time of need” (Heb 4:16). Paul tells us that in Christ “we have boldness and access with confidence through our faith in him” (Eph 3:12) We have assurance that God hears us when we pray: “And this is the confidence that we have toward him, that if we ask anything according to his will he hears us” (1 John 5:14).

While we must not approach God with irreverence or presume upon him, we no longer come into his presence as one only flinching before a disciplinarian. We come to a holy God, but this holy God is our Father.

Courage to Admit Our Sin

If we understand that a fundamental part of us (our sin) is known fully by God, and if we grasp that he is devoted to us despite this knowledge, then our attitude toward our sin can change. We can stop trying to convince everyone we are perfect—or, in the church, we can stop trying to make others think we’re not too bad.

Such an acting job is exhausting. Keeping up appearances, admitting to respectable flaws but burying our less presentable wickedness, deflecting the questions of people who might actually want to be close friends—it’s enough to run us into the ground.

The good news is that it’s not necessary! We can admit our sin—to God, to ourselves, and to others. We can seek and expect help from the Holy Spirit to transform us, and in showing that we aren’t perfect we can invite others to live more honestly as well.

How does the gospel accomplish this? God’s love for us is secure, and we are reconciled to him through the work of Jesus. We no longer need to jealously guard our reputations or images. We don’t need to be obsessed with impressing others, because the most important One knows and loves us, and he won’t turn away.

Courage to Speak the Truth to Others

Good, harmonious relationships are rare and precious. Consequently, we often shy away from any conversation or topic that might endanger that harmony.

And yet, Christians are called to speak the truth in love. This might mean pointing a friend or acquaintance toward Jesus, inviting them to consider his claims. It could also mean offering correction to someone at church, calling them to repent of their sin.

How does the gospel give us courage to do these hard things?

In Christ, we are delivered from the rule of sin. We need not say only what others want to hear and ignore their offenses to God. In short, we need not live to please man any longer.

Most of us have an internal compass that directs us in conversation. We move toward or away from topics that make the other person uncomfortable or irritated. But as Christians grow, the Holy Spirit begins to override this compass, helping us to honor God instead of making relational peace our only aim.

The gospel had this transforming effect on the apostle Paul. He describes how God gave him “boldness” to declare “the gospel of God in the midst of much conflict” (1 Thess 2:2). Paul spoke the gospel “not to please man, but to please God, who tests our hearts” (1 Thess 2:3).

The confidence that we have “to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus” (Heb 10:19) should lead us to “stir up one another to love and good works” (Heb 10:24). Often this stirring up happens through encouragement, but sometimes it happens through confrontation.

Gospel Boldness

When a person comes to Christ, they may not develop radical boldness right away. But the trajectory of our lives should point more and more toward the sort of courage that the gospel inspires.

We who know Jesus have been given the “ministry of the Spirit,” which has far more glory than the “ministry of condemnation” (2 Cor 3:8-9). This “ministry of righteousness” is glorious, in part, because it is permanent (2 Cor 3:9, 11).

The more we believe this, the more we’ll be able to say, with Paul, “since we have such a hope, we are very bold” (2 Cor 3:12).

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The Lord’s Supper is Not a Pot Luck

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

Churches in the United States may have a number of problems, but we often feed our people with generosity and abandon. Families that are experiencing sickness, grief, or other life-disrupting events are usually not lacking for casseroles or pasta.

U. S. churches also shine when it comes to gathering for meals. Though our offered dishes tend to lean in predictable directions—meat and cheese: yes, leafy greens: not so much—the Sunday pot luck is usually a hearty feast.

However, a pot luck meal is decidedly unlike another vital, Christian meal—the Lord’s supper—in at least two important ways. Seeing these differences will help us better appreciate both kinds of meals.

We Don’t Bring Food to the Lord’s Supper

Part of the beauty of a pot luck is that everyone who is able contributes. There’s no concern about matching serving plates or coordinated side dishes. We make food at home and take it to share.

But, not to put too fine a point on it, the Lord’s supper is the Lord’s supper. He instituted it (Matthew 26:26–29) and he provides the meal. Jesus sets the table and determines the guest list. He even gives those who are invited the inclination to attend.

We could never cook well enough to earn a seat at this table. We couldn’t do anything to deserve a reservation. This is the wonder of the Lord’s table—Jesus gathers his people around this sustaining meal by grace through faith.

We Know What’s on the Menu at the Lord’s Supper

At a true pot luck meal, the menu is a surprise. (The stuffiest among us might push for a phrase more like “pot providence,” but that introduces an entirely different set of questions these days.) We pick from among the dishes offered, but those dishes are made at the whim and inclination of someone else in the fellowship. Though it’s not likely, it’s possible such a gathering may produce 14 giant bowls of spaghetti and three trays of brownies.

At the Lord’s supper, we know exactly what’s available. We get Christ himself!

Read these words carefully.

For I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, “This is my body, which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way also he took the cup, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes. (1 Corinthians 11:23–26)

There are many different views on exactly what’s going on when we take the Lord’s supper. However, Paul indicated that the bread and cup were offered by Jesus to his apostles as his body and blood. We also are to “eat this bread and drink the cup.” We are to take in Christ and all of the nourishment he provides.

Jesus’s use of a meal here is illuminating. However much we depend on eating food and drinking water, we depend much, much more on Christ! Do we understand our need for Jesus to be this deep and desperate?

We know—at least intellectually—what happens to us if we do not eat for a time; we may have read about what happens to the human body when it goes too long without water. What would happen to you without Christ? How dramatically would your soul shrivel, spasm, or seize without the work and grace of Jesus? If we could not come and be nourished by the very Son of God, where would we be?

Come and Proclaim

What generosity our God shows by regularly feeding us and providing what we need! We are welcomed, loved, and nourished at his table.

So, come! Jesus is given for you. Join with your brothers and sisters to “proclaim the Lord’s death” until he comes!

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Immanuel: The Story of Christmas

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet: “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel” (which means, God with us). (Matthew 1:22–23)

I have contended that we can summarize the entire story of the Bible with the name Immanuel. Thus, Immanuel is more than the story of Christmas, but it is certainly not less.

God with us

The inescapable, mind-bending miracle of Christmas is that God became man. The one who breathed humanity into existence took human breaths as a baby.

The reason is not particularly romantic. The Creator set the rules in the garden and we set them aflame. Divine action was the only path to reunion.

We did not need a superhero, a military general, or a crowd-rousing activist; we needed God himself to come. To breathe. To cough and walk and laugh and cry in our midst. We needed Jesus to do all that we could not and would not do.

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. (John 1:14)

God with us

We once had easy access to and comfortable fellowship with God in the garden. Adam and Eve were with God before the curse was found anywhere.

God has come near at times after Eden. He visited patriarchs, delivered stone tablets, and filled temples. But even those who knew God intimately experienced profound, confusing distance from him.

Why, O Lord, do you stand far away?
Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble? (Psalm 10:1)

On this side of eternity, we have a longing to be home, to once again walk with the God who made us. We want to be with God, without any of the danger and panic such an encounter arouses within sinners.

Even as the Son of God came, he was with us for a mere moment. Jesus died. God was with us temporarily so that God might be with us (by his Spirit) and so that his people might be with him permanently.

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)

God with us

Christmas brings about community almost by definition. Immanuel means God with us, not God with me.

We all relate to God individually, but we don’t relate to him alone. Those who are God’s are brought into a community and family.

We are no longer alone. God is with us, and by virtue of God being with us, others are with us too. This may not be a physical reality for some Christians now, but it is a mystical truth and a coming reality. Christmas means the dawning of the end of loneliness.

“Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him;
I will protect him, because he knows my name.
When he calls to me, I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble;
I will rescue him and honor him.
With long life I will satisfy him
and show him my salvation.” (Psalm 91:14–16)

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How to Prevent a Spiritually Dry December

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

The weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas can be busy. Not only is the calendar full, but there’s a lot to do around the house. There are gifts to wrap, cards to send, and decorations to hang.

Busy days mean our schedules get squeezed. Work and school hours don’t change, so this means there’s a competition for our time at the margins. And, if you’ve been a Christian for any length of time, you know that devotional time is often a casualty in this battle.

I can fool myself into thinking the Christmas season will be richer with more decorations, more social gatherings, and watching more beloved Christmas movies. That the key to Christmas joy is more memories and experiences.

While there’s nothing wrong with any of these seasonal extras, here’s the truth I tend to miss. My experience of Christmas will be far deeper and more joyful if I’m connecting my activities to the Biblical truths of Christmas.

The Point of Bible Study

With that said, there is still the stark reality of time. I just seem to have less of it in December. Should I feel guilty that I’m not spending as much time with God during that month?

To answer this question we need to remember why we read the Bible—or why we engage in any of the spiritual disciplines. We don’t read the Bible to impress God. We don’t pray to feel spiritually healthy. We don’t fast to check a box.

No. Our spiritual practices must be rooted in God’s love for us and aimed at growing in love for him. Even as new creatures with the indwelling Holy Spirit, the old man still fights among our members, tearing our attention and our affections away from God. Our Bible study and prayer and giving—all of it—is designed to remind us of the truth and to help us live in harmony with it.

So, with regard to a busy December, we shouldn’t ask, How often must I read my Bible? Instead, we should ask, How can I enflame my affections for God around the Incarnation?

Focus on Bible Intake

Since the normal rhythms of life can be disrupted during busy seasons, don’t hold yourself to an impossible standard. Some days may allow your usual devotional time with God; other days may not. Instead of having the same goals for each day, I’d encourage you to focus on consistent Bible intake.

Bible intake refers to all the different ways we come into contact with the Bible. We can read it, study it, listen to it, memorize it, meditate on it, hear it preached, or sing it.

Here are some suggestions on how to maintain consistent Bible intake during a busy December.

  • Start a plan for Bible study or Bible reading for Advent.
  • Memorize part of the Bible related to the Christmas story. Some suggestions: John 1:1–18, Luke 2:1–21, Matthew 1:18–25.
  • Find a good Advent Bible reading guide and work through it as a family every morning or evening.
  • Pick ten favorite Christmas hymns. Sing one each night as a family and read the Bible text most relevant to the words of the hymn.
  • Listen to the Bible as you exercise or on your commute. Focus on the parts of the Bible that discuss the Incarnation.

Joy to the World

December may be busy, but it doesn’t have to leave you ragged and dry. With some planning and some shifts in your own expectations, you can draw near to God for Christmas as you celebrate the way he drew near to you.

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3 Skills Christians Can Learn from a Great Interviewer

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

What keeps you from being a better friend to the people in your life?

As we grow in grace, we should become better friends. But it’s a hard climb; we should learn from whomever we can.

Krista Tippett hosts a public radio show/podcast called On Being. (I haven’t heard it.) She was interviewed on the Longform podcast back in October, and the episode gave me a lot of food for thought.

Practice Gracious Listening

Around the 33:35 mark, Tippett is asked about the phrase “gracious listening” which she uses in her 2016 book, Becoming Wise. What does she mean by this phrase?

I put words in front of the word “listening”—gracious, generous—because the word listening and the act of listening, there’s a lot of lack of self-awareness around that. I think that I grew up, and a lot of people in this culture grew up, experiencing listening as being quiet while the other person talks, basically. Right? So that eventually you can say what you have to say. Listening is basic social art, but it’s something we have to learn and practice. And we really haven’t practiced a robust listening—generous, gracious listening—which is not just about being quiet, but about actually, truly being curious, really mustering curiosity. Which can be as simple as being willing to be surprised.

She contrasts this curiosity with making assumptions about others.

We tend to go into encounters pretty much thinking we know who that other person is. We know who they voted for, we know what they do. So, curiosity I think is something that is a virtue that can be really complex and it’s counter-intuitive to how we walk through the world, especially how we walk through the public world.

I love that phrase be willing to be surprised. So often I assume I know another person by applying stereotypes. But this is far from loving. Being curious means, in part, acknowledging your incomplete understanding about another person. (Even your best friend or spouse!)

Because I am accepted by God and fully known by him, I don’t need to pretend to have everyone figured out. By his power I can put to death the insecurity and pride that puts up this front.

Create a Hospitable Atmosphere

Later in the podcast, Tippett is asked how she prepares for an interview. She talks about trying to get to know someone by immersing herself in what they’ve written and/or said in the past.

What I’m trying to do is not so much understand what people know, but how they think. And then, if I have just a sensitivity to that, that really creates a hospitable space for them to think out loud with me. And this transmits itself viscerally, within a very few moments of meeting somebody. We’ve all had this experience of walking into a room and […] you know you’re going to have to defend yourself or explain yourself. And that creates a certain amount of tension and it puts you in a certain mode of what you are going to talk about and what you’re not going to talk about. And I’m trying to create an atmosphere, an intellectually hospitable atmosphere, where people have this sense very quickly that I get them. And then, you just relax inside.

Tippett’s description makes me wonder what sort of atmosphere I create in my conversations. Are people encouraged to think out loud with me? Or am I making them feel defensive and interrogated? This idea of a hospitable atmosphere has huge implications when it comes to apologetics, evangelism, and discipleship.

Ask Good Questions

Tippett’s definition of a good question is “one that elicits honesty.” She was asked what she means by that definition.

I think one thing a lot of people do is ask questions that are interesting to them. Like, “I’ve always wanted to know.” […] Often when I start out preparing for an interview, I will have my questions that I think going into this I’m probably going to want to ask this person. But in the course of preparation, a lot of them will fall away. And what will come in their place is the question that’s going to be interesting to them. And I can formulate that question because I’m immersing in their thinking. So then the questions I’m writing are coming out of that rather than out of my head. And if you ask somebody a question that’s interesting to them, they immediately—you’ll hear it, they’ll say, “Oh, that’s an interesting question.” And then they stop realizing they’re being interviewed, and they’re not even giving an answer, they’re thinking in real time.

This definition of a good question is fairly specific to the context of an interview, but there’s still a lot to learn. My default setting is to ask questions I find interesting, and I never considered that this might be selfish. It is a challenge to know someone well enough to ask a question that interests them. What works in one conversation might not work in the next.

Perhaps a common theme that holds these skills together (for the Christian) is dependence. If we depend on the Holy Spirit, discarding the notion we must control the conversation, we’ll be more likely to love the other person. We won’t make assumptions, we won’t focus on ourselves, and we’ll serve.

As Tippett says (in the first quote), this takes practice. But it’s worth it! And it reflects our God as well—he knows us completely and welcomes us in relationship and conversation. By his strength, let’s do the same for each other.

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Taking a Biblical Worldview to My Back Yard

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

Our theology affects everything, not just the parts of life we call “religious.” We live every second before God, so we should think theologically about every detail, from the majestic to the mundane.

A Familiar Structure

I have an intense, irrational hatred for yard work. I don’t understand or like this about myself, but I’d trade yard work for washing dishes, cleaning the bathroom, or doing laundry any day of the week.

And yet, instead of grumbling about this task, I should think about it biblically. Here’s my attempt to frame this work in the familiar categories of creation, fall, redemption, and consummation.

Creation

A healthy lawn and blooming flowers are beautiful. When God sends the rain and the sun and the yard explodes with color, it can be breathtaking.

We have a great lesson in the plant world: God brings life from the dirt. As Adam was created from the dust (Gen 2:7), so the trees, grass, and other plants grow by God’s good pleasure.

And, in his wisdom, God has called me to tend this space. I’m to work and keep what he’s entrusted to me (Gen 2:15), exercising dominion care in this small area. God asks me to labor and work so the land around me proclaims his glory.

Fall

In my flesh, I hate my yard. I am in the midst of a war, and I am losing.

I don’t enjoy cutting my grass, but that’s easy. It’s the weeding, pruning, planting, and tending I dislike. This is often difficult, unpleasant work.

This shouldn’t surprise me. The ground itself is cursed (Gen 3:17–19), and the weeds and thorns appear because of sin. The consequences of our rebellion spring from the ground, causing me pain (Gen 3:17). I sweat and ache as I beat back the thistles.

Redemption

Yes, the ground is cursed. But there’s more to the story. The weeds and thorns have only so much power.

Jesus walked on this ground, and that changed everything. The wind whipped dust against his face and he got mud between his toes. Though he had power over all the land, he died and was buried in the earth. But the ground could not hold him.

The entire creation is damaged and cursed. Jesus came to shatter the curse, to bring restoration and reconciliation and renewal far as the curse is found.

This begins with the people of God, the pinnacle of creation. But Jesus’ resurrection affects everything. The defeated enemy retreats, and the spoils of Christ’s victory will roll downhill and flood all of creation with new life.

Consummation

Under the curse, creation groans (Rom 8:22). It groans not just for redemption but for newness.

I groan. In Christ, I have new life. I have hope and the promise of God himself. But in the body I groan.

I age and ache and slump, but my body only tells part of the story. I grieve at my remaining sin. I see injustice and pain and grief and oppression and hate, not only in myself but in my community and throughout the world. I too long for newness.

And so we have a circle of sorts. I’m driven into my yard by newness—new growth to trim and new weeds to pull. But, if I’m thinking well, I spend more time dwelling on Jesus’ death and resurrection. He’s remaking me from the inside out, and he will fulfill the groan-filled longing of the creation as well.

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One Surefire Way to Harden Your Heart

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

When the Exodus narrative hits chapter 8, a curious thing happens. Moses takes a back seat. So does Aaron. Instead, the narrator zooms in on two characters: Pharaoh and God.

A Hard Heart

It’s impossible to read these early chapters of Exodus without pondering Pharoah’s heart. God tells Moses he will harden Pharoah’s heart (Ex 4:21, 7:3), and then we see it happen. Over and over and over.

No one wants a hard heart. A hard heart is stiff and rigid, dry and impenetrable. A hard heart is cold. Throughout Scripture, to have a hard heart is to be stubborn, persistent in one’s own way, and resistant to the things of God (Dt 15:7, 2 Chron 36:13, Mark 8:17, Acts 19:9, Heb 3:13).

Who Hardens the Heart?

In Exodus, God hardens Pharaoh’s heart (Exodus 9:12; 10:1; 10:20; 10:27; 11:10; 14:8) almost as often as Pharoah hardens his own (Exodus 8:15; 8:32; 9:34). It’s not one or the other—it’s both.

It’s uncomfortable, but true: God hardens some hearts (Rom 9:18). This is his prerogative, and those whom God hardens wouldn’t choose any differently. God may simply make more available and more abundant the ends they would seek for themselves.

And yet, Pharaoh hardens his own heart as well. What does this look like?

How to Harden Your Heart

As Pharaoh’s heart hardened, one of his behaviors is mentioned more than others—five times to be exact. And though Pharaoh was not regenerate, I suspect we harden our hearts in much the same way.

He did not listen.

Now, one of two things is happening in these passages. Either Pharaoh doesn’t listen as a result of hardening his heart, or Pharaoh hardens his heart as a result of not listening. I’m guessing both are true—a hard heart and a resistant ear form an obstinate, continuous loop. (Check out Exodus 7.13, 7.22, 8.15, 8.19, 9.12.)

Hebrews connects Pharaoh with a relevant warning to the church. In Hebrews 3:7–19, the author quotes the language of hard hearts (Pharaoh) as directed to the Israelites (Psalm 95:1-11) and applies it to us. The chief warning is this: If you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts.

So, if we want to avoid a hard heart, we need to listen. Chiefly, we need to listen to God. We need to listen to the Bible, where God speaks. We need to listen to our pastor as he preaches and to our elders as they warn and encourage us and to our friends as they comfort and rebuke us.

The surest way to a hard heart is to stop listening to God.

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Heaven Is Not Vacation

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

We’ve all grappled with eternity. Whether groaning because of sin or looking forward to paradise, all Christians have pondered heaven. And one of the most mind-shattering realities of heaven is that it goes on forever. It doesn’t end.

We struggle with this concept because we are finite. We’re bound to time and everything we do and create has a beginning and an end.

We haven’t experienced eternity, so we learn mostly by contrast. Witness this statement from the apostle Peter (emphasis mine).

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. (1 Peter 1:3–5)

Any inheritance we receive in this life is perishable, defiled, and fading, and Peter tells us the glory won for us by Christ is just the opposite.

The Last Day of Vacation

I was thinking of eternity and heaven on a recent vacation.

I’m always excited at the beginning of vacation—there’s so much promise, hope, and adventure ahead. But I get wistful toward the end. I try to soak up all the sights, sounds, and tastes one last time before I return to normal life.

On that last day of vacation, I need to remind myself—I’m still on vacation. I’m still away from my job, the never-ending yard work, and the unfinished home repairs that taunt me daily. But I feel a bit of sadness and finality on that last day. I try to make a few more memories, take a few more pictures, enjoy that last visit to the ice cream shop.

Heaven is Different

Since our time in the new heavens and new earth won’t end, we won’t have this last-day-of-vacation feeling. We won’t need to squeeze in a last roller coaster ride or grab just a couple more shells. We won’t experience that creeping regret that we could have made the trip a little better.

And the center of our whole heavenly experience is gloriously different than any vacation spot in the world. It will be wonderful to have new bodies, to be free from sin, and to see beloved friends and family. But if you read the book of Revelation, you know heaven is about God.

No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And night will be no more. They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever. (Revelation 22:3–5)

The Lord will be our light, so night will never come. We won’t ever have to say goodbye and count down the days until next summer. We won’t wish we’d booked a different room or traveled a different week.

We will see his face, and we will worship him. How’s that for an every-day experience?!

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Impressive or Known

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

You can either be impressive or you can be known. You have to pick one.

I’ve heard variations of this quote over the years. They’ve bounced around my head, and I’ve now seen a couple of sources pointing to Ray Ortlund for its origin. I think this is a central truth of vibrant Christian community.

The more we try to impress others, the less we will be known. Conversely, the more we allow ourselves to be known by others, the less impressive we will be. Like a playground see-saw, these realities move in opposition to one another.

Wanting to be Loved

We all have a fundamental desire to be loved by those who matter most to us. This impulse is not identical for everyone, but some expression of this desire seems so widespread as to be programmed into us.

And while we may put on a mask to be tolerated or liked by some, in order to be loved, we need to be known. We want those we care about to stay committed to us even when they know the darkest shadows of our hearts.

This, after all, is what we have in the gospel of Jesus Christ. In his love God has pursued and changed us; we must never think God’s love is the result of our faith or some sliver of obedience. While we were sinners, Christ died for us (Rom 5:8)!

Jesus was not persuaded to save us by our kindness or humor. He didn’t observe our gentleness or intelligence and then sign up for the incarnation and the cross. We did not impress God into forgiveness.

No. God knew us and loved us.

So, what we seek from other people is a human version of what we already have from God. Stated from the other angle, what we welcome people into with our Christian love is a faint shadow of what they can enjoy from God himself.

There’s no way around it—being known by others is risky. It is literally an act of faith. There are those who might use our mistakes and faults for harm against us. I am not advising everyone to spill all of their guts to everyone. We still need wisdom and discretion.

But in a Christian community where everyone is growing in love, the exposure scenario is less likely. As each person sees their own sin more clearly, weaponizing the sins of others becomes unthinkable.

In the end, however, we leave all outcomes to the Lord. If he knows the worst things about us and loves us still, and if our future and our lives are in his hands, then we will be able to withstand the consequences of transparency in our communities. A life of hyper-vigilant self-protection turns out to be a lonely life.

Trying to Impress

We try to impress others in dozens of ways, many of them specific to us and our relationships.

We may try to emphasize (or exaggerate) our intelligence or our adherence to an unspoken but approved list of spiritual disciplines. We think carefully and creatively. We worship God the same way you do.

Others may highlight their qualifications for the desired “in group.” We have heard of the right people, read the right books, attended the right schools. We hold the right beliefs.

Still others may try to be really, really nice. We’re sweet and kind and inoffensive. We will always affirm you and never make you uncomfortable.

Regardless of how we try to be impressive—and the above is just a small sample—we dangle a curated, false self in front of others. They might respect or admire the character we’re projecting, but we haven’t grown any closer.

How to be Known

If wanting to be impressive and wanting to be known are inherently in opposition, how can we help others know the real us?

This starts with learning more about our own unimpressiveness. In other words, we’re better able to share our real selves with others as we know our real selves. This is a process that can take time and maturity. I’ve found these below-the-surface questions helpful to ponder.

  • What makes me afraid? Why?
  • What makes me angry? Why?
  • What makes me excited? Why?
  • Where is my heart cold/warm toward the things of God? How have my affections been changing?

Once we admit that we’re wholly unimpressive and we embrace the safety God’s love provides in the gospel, we can start to let others know us. We can have honest conversations with friends where we ask and answer hard questions with transparency.

Pointing to Jesus

For those with eyes to see, this honesty is attractive. (Paradoxically, this desire to be known instead of impressive can be … impressive.) There’s no need to pretend we’re perfect or that we have it all together. There’s no need to wear the mask of competence and independence and unwavering success.

Jesus is the one who is truly impressive, and he has followed all the rules and done everything right in our place. He is the one who is always good and pure and generous, who never shades the truth. All of his goodness and uprightness has been credited to those who believe. And all of our sin has been dealt with; though we might remember and discuss our past sins, we need to fear the related guilt no more.

A community made up of honest people can’t help but point outsiders to Jesus. Only the safety and acceptance we find in the gospel can free us from the need to seek applause from others.

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