Showing posts with label eternity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eternity. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 23, 2019

One-Way Glass

“We see in a mirror dimly,” says Paul in his letter to the Corinthian church. "But," he promises, “face to face will happen." One day.
It reminds me of one-way glass. One-way glass is reflective, but as a mirror, it’s not great, AND you know that the people on the other side can totally see you. You are seen, yet cannot see: not even yourself, at least not very well. And this is life on earth. We don’t see anything clearly. We can’t see through the glass (though we are conscious of being seen and known), and we can’t discern our own surroundings really definitively. And it is hard. Frustrating. Sad. Dissatisfying. We were made to be known and to know, and the one-sidedness aches something deep inside of us. But, says God, if you want a taste of the future knowing and being known, love. Love, because it’s part of the eternal state, will give you a taste of the future, the other side of the glass. So while you’re here, scrunch your face up against the one-way glass and love hard.



Saturday, September 30, 2017

"No One has Ever Seen God"


"No one has ever seen God."

This phrase appears twice in John's writings: a simple statement of fact.

There's an obvious reality that God is spirit, and we cannot see Him. We who believe in God do so by faith and, like it says in Hebrews 11, live "as seeing Him who is invisible."



Towards the beginning of his gospel, however, John points out that there is an exception to the whole not seeing God thing. He writes, "No one has ever seen God; the only God, who is at the Father's side, he has made him known" (Jn 1:18).

Here's the exception: although no one has seen the Father, the Son came and revealed Him. To see Jesus is to see God. Those who look on Jesus see "the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ" (2 Cor. 4). For 33 years, God walked the earth, and people saw His face. This is a beautiful and deep truth, but if you believe what the Bible says about Jesus being God, then at some level, it's still a reasonable/understandable concept.

Later in his life, though, John writes a couple of letters, and in his first letter, he brings up the subject of seeing God again. "No one has ever seen God;" he says, but "if we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us" (1 Jn 4:12).

Wait. What?

The first time that we read "no one has ever seen God," we are reminded that Jesus is an exception to that.
The second time that we read "no one has ever seen God," we are told that love among believers is an exception to that.

Don't miss the weight and profoundness of this!
(In fact, if you have any questions about what John is implying here, go back and read the larger contexts in which these two texts appear. The contexts totally support the intentional parallel of Christ bringing the fullness and knowledge of God to us, our receiving it, and then our being enabled to pass it along.)

In my church, we've been studying about Heaven during our morning services (highly recommend the series!). So as I've been thinking about this phrase from John's writings, it's mingled with thoughts about Heaven, and here's one of my main takeaways:
In Heaven, we will see the face of God. But today, others can see the face of God in the mutual love of believers. Others will recognize the face of God from seeing His love being given and received among His people. So, when I love my brothers and sisters like God does, I, like Jesus, am letting people see God, and I can do so now in a way that will not be mine to do (at least in the same way) in eternity.

God, please let it be that I and my brothers and sisters would so "keep ourselves in the love of God," that we live it out incessantly in ways that make You known/visible in our relationships with each other today. We believe You to be the Most Beautiful and Winsome of Beings, and we want You to be known and loved. We are amazed to think that anyone could catch a glimpse of Your face in us; it's the greatest honor we could ever have. (Like, the more I think about it, the more mind-blowing it is.) Let our gratitude and gladness find full expression today. In others words, let me and my brothers and sisters love each other so thoroughly today that someone gets to see Your face in ours. That would be more amazing than we could put into words. And give us faith to believe that You actually intend to reveal Yourself to others through us!


Tuesday, May 16, 2017

The Far Kingdom

Gusting winds roll the maple leaves, flashing their silver undersides. Sunlight and shadows play in the blue-skyed afternoon, and the birds chirp out their pleasure at the whole scene. 


I sit in the car, treasuring the few minutes of solitude, wishing to talk to God, yet quivering with that inside exhaustion that makes it difficult to do more than just stare. These days of battle blur together; they live heavily yet pass quickly, leaving the past hidden under a dust-cloud while a deep fog hangs over future. The war can be relentless; the days grueling. And sometimes, in the middle of it all, the outcome feels murky and uncertain. Except for one thing. 

There is one thing that not even the battle-haze can completely obscure: the Far Kingdom. It is visible even here in the raging present. There are promises. There is a river. There is a city of God. There is a King, and there is a Kingdom. And though everything else crumbles around us, we as believers have received a Kingdom that cannot be shaken (Heb. 12). The promises of God cannot fail. God cannot lie. So here in my car, in the middle of the battle, with all its noise, danger, and exhaustion, I will pause to look up for a glimpse of the King and the Kingdom. I will remember that I have been given two solid realities: today and the Final Day: a Now and a Forever. Everything that lies between these two realities must be taken in by faith. 

O God, give me courage to live today. Help me to look up, to see the Far Kingdom, to ride into battle with the joy of faith, to believe that every sword-stroke leaves its mark, that every wound works a weight of glory, and that nothing will be wasted. In Your love, grant me this grace as You have promised.


(I would be remiss and less than generous if I didn't share this jewel of a song with you: Far Kingdom. It has helped me for many weeks now. Click the link. Listen to it. And while you are at it, also listen to Shadows of the Dawn by the same artist, The Gray Havens.)