April 13, 2008
Chris Strevel

Many Scriptures instruct us to think of heaven, to live in terms of heaven, to make heaven our earthly pursuit as much as our eternal goal. A few choice morsels come to mind. “Our citizenship is in heaven.” “Set your mind on things above.” “To depart and be with Christ is better by far.” These are the realities, exhortations, and aspirations of our faith. We want very much to depart and be with Christ. The little Scripture says of heaven serves to intensify rather than to satisfy our desire to know more about heaven and even more to be in heaven.

But what shall I do with earth until heaven? Since my citizenship is in heaven, for example, how should this guide my engagement with political movements and the philosophies of my particular age? If my mind is to be set upon the things above, an extremely challenging command as any earnest believer will humbly admit, does any room remain for entertainments, frivolities, or the earthly delights our “flesh” seems only too willing to indulge? How can I possibly find time to pursue heaven when my life seems so filled with “earth” that little times remains for anything but sleeping? Surely there is a balance to be found somewhere, but if so, which domain or age is the fulcrum? Heaven or earth? This collage of competing thoughts is confused even more by the commitment to the idea that the only relevant Christian faith is a this-world oriented faith. Various forms of Christian “isms” line up: humanitarianism, social gospel-ism, Reconstructionism, pluralism, Christian conservatism, emergent church-ism, and neo-medievalism are only a few of the pole-swings that have occupied the attention of the church, for better or for worse. Each is an attempt to bring heaven to bear upon earth; the implicit danger in each is earth swallowing up heaven.

I am not, course, suggesting that each of the above “isms” has equal validity. They share, however, a commitment to the intrinsic goodness and moral necessity of impacting this life, its peoples, ideas, and institutions, with a particular view of heaven, the gospel, and the kingdom of Jesus Christ. In the process, however, we can easily forget, and in fact have forgotten, that nothing on earth can ever compare to the glories that await in heaven (Rom. 8:18), that the form of this world is passing away (1 Cor. 7:31), and that there is a certain vileness that cannot be expunged from history until Jesus returns to consummate and renovate (Phil. 3:20-21). At the least, these simultaneously sobering and glorious realities should shape our earthly expectations. Even the best earthly program of reform will eventually fade, if for no other reason than our sinfulness and the constant discipline of the cross under which our heavenly Father is pleased to exercise each generation of the church and across all her generations until Jesus returns. Earth will not look like heaven until it is made new by the power of Jesus Christ.

In seeking to balance the glories of heaven with the claims of earth, I hold it to be an irrefutable axiom of the Christian faith that only in the unique person of Jesus Christ are heaven and earth brought together – meaningfully, without danger to either, and in submission to the God of both. Our Mediator, therefore, is of necessity the eternal Son of God and the incarnate son of the virgin. He does not hold these twin natures in tension; he is a unified person with each nature retaining its essential attributes and functions. As God, he is the Creator of the world, the Word of God, and the uniquely begotten of the Father. He knows all things, forgives sins, and controls the universe by the word of his power. As man, he was born in the likeness of sinful flesh, lived a life of poverty and suffering, and died the painful, shameful, and cursed death on the cross. And he did these things as our one Mediator, the God-man. As our Mediator, though he was in the very form of God, a phrase that means he was and is everything that is essential to the being and existence of God, he emptied himself of his outward glory, humbled himself for our poor sake, and offered himself as the propitiation for our sins. And now, having suffered and died, he has entered his glory (Luke 24:27). As the Son of man, a phrase that comes from Daniel 7:13 and emphasizes his mediatorial glory and dominion, he rules heaven and earth. He is the King of the nations and the Head of the church. We can enter heaven only through his sacrifice and intercession; we can lead God-glorifying lives on earth only through his Spirit, word, and sacraments. In our Lord Jesus Christ, then, heaven is gained for us, and earth is restored to us. We are the heirs of all things through him. The person of Jesus Christ, therefore, is the key to heaven and earth – maintaining a holy balance between this life and the next, pursuing heaven without ascetic indifference to earth and living on earth without forgetfulness of heaven.

The person of our Mediator teaches us that humanity can never be divinized. Men do not turn into gods. The earthly order cannot turn into heaven. No human leader or group of leaders can legitimately assume divine prerogatives. Hence, as good as any political, ecclesiastical, or familial order might be, it will still be an earthly order, with ample sins and shortcomings, inconsistencies, and weaknesses. It will disappoint and frustrate us. To the degree that it seeks submission to the Lord Jesus Christ, it can be a good order, but Jesus Christ alone is both God and man. Perhaps we should think of this as we are listening to talk radio, wringing our hands over present political realities, or longing for the overthrow of the present regime. We should also think of this when we face our own imperfections, and those of others. We are still of the first man, of the earth, subject to all his frailty, mortality, and fallibility. While perfection may be an ethical and moral goal, it is an unattainable goal in this life. We must, for the time being, look to Christ Jesus for our perfection before the Father, depend upon his grace for any holiness we attain, and long for the life to come in which righteousness alone will reign. This is not to excuse our sins or quench our zeal. It is to teach us to look to the God-man, Jesus Christ, for ultimate perfection, order, peace – no government, parent, spouse, or preacher can give these things to us. They are ours in Christ in principle; they will be ours in reality only in the new heaven and earth. Until then we longingly wait for our heavenly dwelling, for the second man, Jesus Christ, to return from heaven to perfect earth, for the abyss of God’s mercy to swallow fully and finally the abyss of human sin in all its forms. As we wait on earth, we keep looking unto Jesus in heaven, the author and finisher of our faith.

And this fulcrum, the God-man, our Savior Jesus Christ, is now personally seated at the right hand of the Father. In practice, this life draws its significance from Christ’s reign, from heaven, and from approaching eternal realities. I cannot understand this world aright apart from his reign and kingdom. All things are to be brought in subjection to him: my political philosophy, my personal behavior, my educational pursuits, my finances, and my marriage. All things. With limited time and resources, I must put first things first, and these first things are the beliefs, practices, and relationships that draw me closer to Jesus Christ, increase my knowledge and love for him, and enable me to serve him more effectively in this life. I may not have many gifts. I may find myself in an obscure little corner of his kingdom, without much influence or even without many friends. Yet, with what he has given me, I must make Jesus Christ, his kingdom and glory, the passionate pursuit of my life. He must determine my priorities, my interests and tastes, and my attitudes. The only things that have any lasting significance are those things that can be brought into meaningful service to his eternal kingdom. Everything else is negotiable. Anything that makes me indifferent to my Savior, forgetful of his claims and love, can and should be given up at a moment’s notice.

I am not terribly discouraged about the political situation in this nation, or about the condition of the church, or even with the sins in my own life. Do these things grieve me? Absolutely. Do I long for righteousness in each of these areas? Most definitely. But I know that everything for which my heart truly longs is ultimately wrapped up in the Son of God, Jesus my Lord. Heaven gives meaning to my life on earth, but my life on earth will never be heaven. And if I would do better on earth, my only recourse is to look to Jesus, to set my heart and mind upon his reign, and to pray to him continually to bring the power of the age to come into my life. He does not do this in a day; I must learn patience. He will not do this without struggle; I must bear the cross. He will not do this if I allow this life to swallow the life to come, earth to diminish the glories of heaven. He will have all my desire, my affection, and my dependence. He will have me endure by seeing him who is invisible, my ultimate and defining reality, my fulcrum.