Any of us who’ve lost loved ones to death find our thoughts moving between two different worlds, the here and the hereafter. This back-and-forth thought process includes a pause at a theological stop sign: Christ’s second coming.
According to the calendar of human history, we’re living in that middle ground between Jesus’ first coming and his second, his first as a newborn who grew into our radical Savior, and his second as a victor in battle.
Once in a while I think, “What if Jesus returned to earth tonight?”
He promised that when he did come back, it would be to defeat evil and escort Christians to heaven. He actually said, “I’ll take you home with me.” (John 14:2)
I love that he’s implying we’ll feel right at home when we get to heaven. It’ll be similar to returning home after an arduous journey with a big “Ahhh” of contentment when we walk in the door. So I tell myself, “Wouldn’t it be spectacular if Jesus came today?” But I struggle to answer, “Yes.”
And there’s a good reason: I need more time to do better at living the Christian life.
Most of us get only 7 or 8 decades on the earth, and it took me about half of those to get into gear in my walk with the Lord. Much of my early life was bare-minimum believing as I straddled a spiritual fence between obedience and rebellion. Even now, already in my 60’s, I should be doing much better.
And so, I figure, I need more time to keep trying.
Is Jesus reading this and chuckling? Or is he reading it and saying, “You’ve got the right idea.” Being unsure of the answer is probably an indication of my spiritual immaturity. Of course I’m longing to be with Jesus and to experience walking into his home, finding the place he’s prepared for me there. But as the Bible so aptly puts it,”Night is coming, when no one can work.” (John 4:9) Time to try harder will eventually end.
My hesitation to head to heaven isn’t because I want to earn more glory-points. It’s about feeling badly over personal sin and hoping for time to practice godly living, to be a better daughter to God. Just as I wanted my earthly dad to be pleased with me and felt badly when he wasn’t, I have a strong longing to please my heavenly Father.
There’s just one nagging thought behind my philosophy of wanting more earthly time. What if my condition as a human being is exactly the factor that’s prohibiting greater success at godly living? I don’t mean to say ungodly desires aren’t the root cause, but what if even the most saintly person among us still feels like I do, no matter how many years she has to work on it?
In that case, it would be a really good thing if Jesus just came and got me tonight.
“To the one who does not work but trusts God, who justifies the ungodly, their faith is credited as righteousness.” (Romans 4:5)
Hi Margaret,
I do believe you are right, that the most saintly of people (by our viewpoint), feels the way you have described. The letters to Timothy were among Paul’s last, and yet even there, after years of fruitful service, devotion to the gospel, prolific writing for our benefit, he writes that Christ came into the world to save sinners, among whom he was foremost of all. Was it because his former life nagged him? I’m not sure because just a few verses earlier he speaks of his former life before conversion and testifies he was shown abundant grace and mercy for acting ignorantly in unbelief. No, I think he was dogged like the rest of us by his present life, considering what he wrote in Romans, that nothing good dwells in him, that he does not do the good he ought and does the bad he should not.
License to give up and give into the bondage of our flesh? Paul says may it never be. But he knows the struggle and writes that there is no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus.
I would be willing to bet that you and me and everyone else reading this has a particular besetting sin, a thorn in the flesh, something where we say that if we only could get past that, then we would be stellar, worthy of seeing the Lord face to face. But I do believe the Lord allows Satan to deliver those fiery thorns to make us glory in Him and not ourselves, to cause us to fall on our faces in utter dependency and gratefulness for His covenant love and sacrifice.
Why was David the adulterer and murderer considered a man after His own heart? Because he had a broken and contrite spirit, because he loved the Lord, because he loved the law despite his inability to keep it flawlessly.
Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5 against those who take pride in appearance and not in heart, and don’t we all do that. It was a revelation to me to see in Galatians 6:1 that one of the keynotes of true spiritual maturity is to recognize I am but a moment away from falling into sin myself, and that the appropriate response to those who have fallen is gentle restoration.
All of the struggle, the war in our spirit and flesh will be gone the moment He appears- at that moment, in the twinkling of an eye, we will be just like Him because we will see Him just as He is. (1 John 3:3) You are right- our condition as human beings does hinder godly living, and we will all be surprised at the judgment seat of Christ which is a place of reward and not punishment, when He reveals to us that He saw every cup of cold water we offered, every private painful decision to choose Him. And so I say to that, Maranatha, come Lord Jesus.
Love,
Terry
Amazing grace, so sweet the sound…..
There is a book called “He Loves Me” by Wayne Jacobson, which addresses the very thing you are talking about. God created the laws to show us that we can’t do it without the blood sacrifice of The Priest-Jesus, without His friendship. It is difficult for us to wrap our thinking around the idea that God/Jesus/Holy Spirit knew what choices we would make each day of our life and still love us right where we are (emotionally/physically/spiritual). The greatest desire of the Trinity is to be in fellowship with us as we walk this earth. We need them every day to be able to walk in God’s ways of His kingdom while we struggle in the emotional/physical “earth suit” which He gave us. From the day we are born, Satan tries to rob us of our true identity and purpose for which we were created. He lies to us, putting shame, guilt, doubt, and the worst tactic is self-condemnation to destroy any truth which the Holy Spirit whispers in our hearts. With each apology/regret we make to Him, He is there with open arms to set us on His lap, wrap His arms around us and say “I Love You”. I imagine God has mixed emotions of feeling well pleased when we recognize that we did or said something that would grieve Him and try to correct it, and on the other hand feel sad that we still don’t understand just how deeply His love for us goes.