Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Your Country Will Fall

Your country will fall. It's completely inevitable.

I don't know when. It could be tomorrow. It could be a thousand years.

I don't exactly know how – whether by war or poor leadership or natural disaster, or whether it merges with another or splits into several.

Even if Jesus doesn't return for another ten thousand years, and your country lasts until then, it won't last beyond it. Your country will fall. If not before, it will fall when Jesus comes.

There are no Canadians in heaven. There are no British people in heaven. There are no Burmese, Algerians, Americans, Saudis, or Peruvians in heaven. All these boundaries and citizenships are of human design. Yes, they are boundaries that are ultimately appointed by God. But they were not part of the first, perfect creation, and neither do we read about them in the renewed heaven and earth. All these countries that we know will be burned away. Only the kingdom of God, only the people of God, will remain.

There are some ways in which I am incredibly patriotic. I love seeing us take gold in the Olympics. I love sharing a national identity with some of the heroes that have hailed from my country. I will always remember the day that I sat at my computer, weeping through the updates, as our Parliament was attacked and a young soldier lost his life to terror. I truly love my country. But one day it will be no more, and that's OK. I hope that it will not happen until Christ's return. That would mean I would simply be trading a good thing for a thing infinitely greater. But even if it should happen before that, even if something terrible happened, it would be well with my soul.

So love your country. Work for its good. But remember that one day your country will fall. Nothing lasts forever.

Except Jesus, and his kingdom, and those whose citizenship is most truly in heaven.


Saturday, July 16, 2016

Look How That Turned Out For Him

Two things happened today that have me reflecting once again on a question I keep coming back to.

“How is this going to turn out?”

By which I mean: this life of faith, this walk with Jesus, following the example of my King, my (largely untested) conviction that I am called to suffer for and with my Saviour, that in so doing I participate in his life and so become more like him – how is that going to turn out?

The first thing: I read a statistic written by a missionary that out of 150 Somali believers he had known when he moved to Somalia, eight years later only four were still alive. If that statistic provides anything close to the norm, that means that 97% of Somali believers die for their faith. I felt like I'd been punched. Look how that turned out for them.

Later, I was at a barbeque for a youth mission team that came up to visit our baby church. At supper, a couple of us got talking about this trip largely being about teaching young people to really own the “as you go” of the Great Commission – to see the spaces in every day life to bless people with the love of Jesus in word and in deed. A couple of the tweens in our church, who I think had just had a bad day, got pestering us about method – are all these ideas found *exactly* in the Bible? They didn't have conversations on buses, did they? Finally, our preacher turned it around on them and said something like, “Don't you think that as the apostle Paul went about his life, he just used every opportunity to tell people about about Jesus?” And one of the kids mumbled back, “Yeah, and look how that turned out for him.”

And isn't that our problem? Don't most of us, in our hearts, have that response lurking? We don't say it – we know we shouldn't – but we really wonder how it will turn out if we venture big for the gospel. We know that at every turn the apostles were marginalized, were beaten, were falsely accused, were thrown in jail. We know that they found themselves in danger from governments and robbers and fellow citizens. They shared the gospel. They were the first to do what we are called to do. How did that turn out for them?

Paul had an answer: “I will rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and the help of the Spirit of Jesus Christ this will turn out for my deliverance, as it is my eager expectation and hope that I will not be at all ashamed, but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death.” (Phil 1:19-20)

Paul says he'll rejoice. That usually means good things, right? Check out the word “this.” “This” is Paul's imprisonment. “This” is Paul's looming trial before the emperor. “This” is the package of difficulties that arise in the churches he can no longer care for directly. All summed up, almost dismissed, with “this.”

But then Paul says he knows how it will turn out: deliverance! Yay!

Oh, but wait. “Deliverance” seems to be meant two ways by Paul. For he goes on to say that what he expects is not some sort of “Suffering – Been There, Done That” badge. What he expects is that he will have the courage to honour his Lord in his life – or in his death. He finishes by saying, “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” Deliverance may come when they unlock the shackles, or deliverance may come through the edge of a Roman sword.

And so here we find our answer. How did that turn out for Paul and the other apostles? Badly. Very badly – if our eyes are fixed on what we have here. Paul has a bigger picture. He wants nothing more than to bring glory to Jesus, in life or in death.

We want to know how all this is going to turn out. Even as Christians, it seems we still ask “meaning of life” kinds of questions. The answer to the question is not an answer, but an instruction. Pursue Jesus. Believe that not one thing is beyond his control. Live for the fame of his name. Then when others ask you, or when you ask yourself: “how's it going to turn out?” your answer can confidently be, “whether in life or in death, for his glory.”