Tonight I went for a drive down old country roads with mist crawling amidst the trees and the aged cobblestone walls. Much has been weighing heavy upon me. I look round about this world and I perceive that those who don't give a damn about God and who live by their own passions and seek their own glorification seem to have their dreams handed to them on silver platters. And like Habakkuk, I cry out to know why. I drove the winding streets with the windows rolled down and the wind in my hair and I thought about all the people I know who are so happy with their lives and it seems that whatever they want they get and I'm stuck in the same place I've been for years. And I asked God why this is so. I asked him why those who care only for themselves seem to have life made, while those who forsake themselves and pursue a life of devotion to God are met with tragedies and disappointments all along the way. Obviously I am making this more black-and-white than it is, and the theological answers to such a question are numerous, but amidst the situation itself the world grows dark and the answers feel numb. And as I prayed, I remembered several things.
This world is not our home. Before it becomes apparent that I am a platonic dualist, let me state what I mean quite clearly: while I do believe creation is good and will ultimately be restored, and while I believe that those who are "in Christ"--those who have devoted themselves to him and his kingdom and who have transferred from the old age to the new age through baptism--will not only be part of the restoration but will also dwell amidst the restoration and be active participants of it, the world in its current state is not our home. We are sojourners, aliens, exiles. The New Testament clearly states this. As such, in this world polluted and stained and infected with sin, a world that is apparently dominated by evil, a world where injustice and unfairness (the two go hand-in-glove) reign, we are not of its kind. Our citizenship is in heaven, as Paul says quite flagrantly. And yet the question itself--a very legitimate question--assumes that God's kingdom is fully here, that God's kingdom of justice and renewal is already totally in place. This is not so, and we are foolish if we expect that the world will operate according to a new age that while, breaking in, has not yet fully arrived.
Judgment is coming. Judgment--the making of all things right, which includes the vindication of what is righteous, the punishment of that which is evil, and the restoration of that which is innately good--is on the doorstep. There are moments when God's judgment breaks into the present: the vindication of a man accused of wrong, the tragedy besetting a man who has set himself up against God, flowers bursting forth in a junkyard. These are not just signs of the coming judgment but foretastes and breaking-ins of that judgment. But the day of God's beautiful judgment--not beautiful in the sense of a sadist leaping up and down at the falling of the people whom he doesn't like, but beautiful in the sense that it will thrust beauty back into the world again and deal with all the accumulating injustices of all sorts that have spawned and prospered in the current world--is coming. Looking round about a world full of wicked people living prosperous and joyous lives, I can take comfort in the fact that their judgment is coming: that they'll be shown for who they are, that their deeds will be uncovered, and they'll be dealt with accordingly. Some will say that a person who hopes for this does not really know the love of God. Never mind that love intimately involves not only mercy but justice as well. Never mind that a world without judgment is a world that blasphemously declares that not much must matter to God. Never mind that a world without judgment thus vindicates the wicked. Those who scoff at the idea of judgment, and those who condemn others who long for judgment, either do not understand the nature of judgment or they have never been face-to-face with such atrocities that a plea for God's judgment is the only natural response. The Old Testament is filled with psalms crying out for God's judgment, the New Testament encourages believers to find hope in coming judgment, and the whole of the Bible longs and years for judgment--not just as the means by which the truly wicked are punished, but also as the means by which the universe is restored to its pristine originality and the righteous in Christ are vindicated before their mocking and scoffing enemies. The coming judgment brings me encouragement. A day is coming when judgment will take place: and on that day those who used and abused others, those who lived for their own glories, will be brought down to their knees before God in submission, submitting in fear and terror and regret. And those who are God's people will be vindicated not on their own basis but on their faith in Jesus.
Hope in God. Perhaps this was an answer to prayer, God's quite voice amidst the whirlwind of chaotic thoughts. But as I prayed, I felt as if God were telling me, "Hope in Me." A hope placed in God is not a hope placed in this world. And for what am I to hope? I am to place my hope in that coming era when judgment happens, when evil is punished for what it is and the righteous are vindicated. I am to hope for that day when God's new creation bursts forth in a vibrant display of life and vitality and wonder and awe and beauty. I am to hope for that day when, as that song goes, "I'll be done with the troubles of this world." Hope in God does not mean that in hoping in Him and trusting in Him (the two go together) that everything in my life will turn around and be exactly what I want it to be. This is not what the scriptures teach. This is what we would expect in a world where God's kingdom is fully known--and it is what we can expect when that day finally comes--but now, where God's kingdom is here but not yet, when the new age has arrived but not fully, those who hope in God and trust in God are often assaulted with all sorts of tragedies. And yet their hope--our hope--is certain if it is accurately placed. Those who hope in God--and hope for what they are supposed to hope for--will not be disappointed.
This world is not our home. Before it becomes apparent that I am a platonic dualist, let me state what I mean quite clearly: while I do believe creation is good and will ultimately be restored, and while I believe that those who are "in Christ"--those who have devoted themselves to him and his kingdom and who have transferred from the old age to the new age through baptism--will not only be part of the restoration but will also dwell amidst the restoration and be active participants of it, the world in its current state is not our home. We are sojourners, aliens, exiles. The New Testament clearly states this. As such, in this world polluted and stained and infected with sin, a world that is apparently dominated by evil, a world where injustice and unfairness (the two go hand-in-glove) reign, we are not of its kind. Our citizenship is in heaven, as Paul says quite flagrantly. And yet the question itself--a very legitimate question--assumes that God's kingdom is fully here, that God's kingdom of justice and renewal is already totally in place. This is not so, and we are foolish if we expect that the world will operate according to a new age that while, breaking in, has not yet fully arrived.
Judgment is coming. Judgment--the making of all things right, which includes the vindication of what is righteous, the punishment of that which is evil, and the restoration of that which is innately good--is on the doorstep. There are moments when God's judgment breaks into the present: the vindication of a man accused of wrong, the tragedy besetting a man who has set himself up against God, flowers bursting forth in a junkyard. These are not just signs of the coming judgment but foretastes and breaking-ins of that judgment. But the day of God's beautiful judgment--not beautiful in the sense of a sadist leaping up and down at the falling of the people whom he doesn't like, but beautiful in the sense that it will thrust beauty back into the world again and deal with all the accumulating injustices of all sorts that have spawned and prospered in the current world--is coming. Looking round about a world full of wicked people living prosperous and joyous lives, I can take comfort in the fact that their judgment is coming: that they'll be shown for who they are, that their deeds will be uncovered, and they'll be dealt with accordingly. Some will say that a person who hopes for this does not really know the love of God. Never mind that love intimately involves not only mercy but justice as well. Never mind that a world without judgment is a world that blasphemously declares that not much must matter to God. Never mind that a world without judgment thus vindicates the wicked. Those who scoff at the idea of judgment, and those who condemn others who long for judgment, either do not understand the nature of judgment or they have never been face-to-face with such atrocities that a plea for God's judgment is the only natural response. The Old Testament is filled with psalms crying out for God's judgment, the New Testament encourages believers to find hope in coming judgment, and the whole of the Bible longs and years for judgment--not just as the means by which the truly wicked are punished, but also as the means by which the universe is restored to its pristine originality and the righteous in Christ are vindicated before their mocking and scoffing enemies. The coming judgment brings me encouragement. A day is coming when judgment will take place: and on that day those who used and abused others, those who lived for their own glories, will be brought down to their knees before God in submission, submitting in fear and terror and regret. And those who are God's people will be vindicated not on their own basis but on their faith in Jesus.
Hope in God. Perhaps this was an answer to prayer, God's quite voice amidst the whirlwind of chaotic thoughts. But as I prayed, I felt as if God were telling me, "Hope in Me." A hope placed in God is not a hope placed in this world. And for what am I to hope? I am to place my hope in that coming era when judgment happens, when evil is punished for what it is and the righteous are vindicated. I am to hope for that day when God's new creation bursts forth in a vibrant display of life and vitality and wonder and awe and beauty. I am to hope for that day when, as that song goes, "I'll be done with the troubles of this world." Hope in God does not mean that in hoping in Him and trusting in Him (the two go together) that everything in my life will turn around and be exactly what I want it to be. This is not what the scriptures teach. This is what we would expect in a world where God's kingdom is fully known--and it is what we can expect when that day finally comes--but now, where God's kingdom is here but not yet, when the new age has arrived but not fully, those who hope in God and trust in God are often assaulted with all sorts of tragedies. And yet their hope--our hope--is certain if it is accurately placed. Those who hope in God--and hope for what they are supposed to hope for--will not be disappointed.
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