Romans 8:15 “For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, ‘Abba, Father.’”

As children of God, we don’t live as slaves to fear. That is not our status, though it once was. From time to time we may find ourselves returning to that view of life. It is the product of our sinful nature. We live as slaves to fear when we view God mainly as the enforcer, an other-worldly task master who will let us feel the lash of his whip, and ultimately demand our lives, if we do not keep in line and behave ourselves.

You know what that is like. When we think that the heartache of today is God’s repayment for the sins of our past, we are living as slaves to fear. When we resist the urge to indulge ourselves because we might get caught, or we might catch some disease, or we might be shamed, we are living as slaves to fear. Siegbert Becker tells the story of such a man he knew when he was in graduate school. “Do you mean to tell me,” the man asked one day, “that if you knew that you could get by with it, there’s nobody in the world you’d want to kill?” When Becker replied he didn’t think he could do something like that, the man continued, “If I knew that the police wouldn’t catch me, there are six people on this campus that I’d kill right now.”

That’s living as a slave to fear, and it can be effective at controlling behavior. But we should not think obedience like that pleases God. Even if it gets us to obey, it reflects a bad relationship with him, not a good one. God is no more pleased with obedience like that than parents are pleased when the threat of a spanking or a grounding is the only thing that gets their whining children to do their chores.

What the Lord seeks more than obedience are sons. “For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship.” The sacred status we share as children of God is sonship. Being sons is more than being children. All of us, men or women, male or female, are sons. That means that we have a recognized, legal status in God’s family. All the rights and privileges of membership belong to each one of us.

That involves a striking change for people who once were slaves to fear. That change was possible because the one and only Son, Jesus Christ, was willing to trade places with us. By his death on the cross he removed the sins that disqualified us for a place in the family. By sending us his Spirit, and calling us to faith, he adopted us into the family. Now we all share this sacred status with him.

That means we enjoy a Father’s tender affection. “And by him (that is, the Spirit of sonship) we cry, ‘Abba, Father.’ God doesn’t want some distant and formal relationship with the children he has adopted. He doesn’t hold us at arm’s length. He wants us to know deep affection and closeness. The sin that once kept us apart has completely been removed. We don’t have to be afraid.

In order to impress this on us, he uses some of the most intimate family relationships to illustrate. In other places he compares it to the love between husband and wife–sometimes in terms that might make us blush. Here he speaks of the love between a Father and his child. That is more than a written fact. His very Spirit impresses it on our hearts.

Think of what it means to call him Father. I call most of the people to whom I am closest by their first names: my brothers and sisters, my children, my wife. But I don’t call my father, “John,” or my mother, “Mary Elin.” In the case of parents, there are titles that express our shared affection more intimately, terms of endearment that reflect the care they have always had for me, and the trust (at times even dependence) that I have had in them. Whether you say “father or mother,” “mom or dad,” “mommy or daddy,” “mamma or pappa,” these terms describe people who love you unconditionally. They would give their lives to help you. They have sacrificed and denied themselves so that you could succeed. They have always been on your side, even when that meant laying down the law to keep you out of trouble.

At least, that’s the ideal. But even if human parents fail, we are God’s children who enjoy a divine Father’s love and affection. It’s one of the privileges of former slaves the Spirit turns into sons.

1 Corinthians 2:11-13  “Who among men knows the thoughts of a man except the man’s spirit within him? In the same way no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God. We have not received the spirit of the world but the Spirit who is from God, that we may understand what God has freely given us. This is what we speak, not in words taught us by human wisdom but in words taught by the Spirit, expressing spiritual truths in spiritual words.”

So many people want to find God by looking inside themselves. Looking inside yourself is a fine thing to do…if you want to find yourself. No one knows you better than your own spirit inside of you, Paul says. But don’t be surprised if you don’t like what you see. C.S. Lewis wrote at the end of his book Mere Christianity, “Look for yourself and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin and decay.” He might just as well have said, “Look inside yourself and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay.” That’s what the natural self looks like. Lusts I can’t get rid of, anger I am not proud of, stinginess, impatience, pride all run around deep down inside. It’s not a pretty picture.

But I’m not God, and neither are you. If we really want to know God, it’s his Spirit we need. And by calling us to faith, that is what God has given us: “We have not received the spirit of the world but the Spirit who is from God, that we may understand what God has freely given us.” When Paul says “understand” he does not mean it in the sense that we have God figured out according to the rules of logic. The Spirit does not give us a new mathematical formula to make sense of the Trinity. He doesn’t take us through a dissection of communion wafers, like high school students dissecting a frog in biology class, so that we can see how “This is my body” works. He doesn’t give us some new kind of telepathy, so that we can sense exactly what good God has in mind for every cross and every burden he lays on us. He doesn’t give us balance sheets or spread sheets that illustrate how the sacrifice of one person, Jesus Christ, accounts for the uncountable sins of billions of people. But he makes it possible for us to know all these things, and to believe that they are true, even though we cannot begin to explain them. This wisdom of God, his grace freely given, has been revealed to us by his Spirit.

That Spirit reveals such things to us, not when we are trying to find the Spirit hidden in the deep recesses of our hearts, but in his word, his message, which is the wisdom of God: “This is what we speak, not in words taught us by human wisdom but in words taught by the Spirit, expressing spiritual truths in spiritual words.” The word and the Spirit always go together. Jesus taught us, “The words that I have spoken to you are Spirit and they are life.” Paul urged the Ephesians to take up “The sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.” Paul didn’t expect the Corinthians, and he doesn’t expect us, to channel all these truths by channeling the Spirit. He doesn’t expect us to wait until the Spirit directly drops the knowledge into our heads out of heaven. He spoke and wrote words, words taught by the Spirit, words expressing spiritual truths because they are spiritual words. Paul’s message is now our message. But it is really neither his nor ours. It is God’s own wisdom revealed by his Spirit.

This is why we preach and teach. The wisdom we need to get along as citizens and employees, the wisdom of math and science and history and literature, is taught in the schools, and they do an admirable job by and large. But there is only one wisdom that saves, one wisdom that can lead us to God. That is the Spirit’s wisdom, the wisdom of God’s word.

Colossians 1:17-18 “He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy.”

Why do the heavenly bodies continue in their orbits instead of crashing into each other like a box of ping-pong balls poured out on the floor? Why does the chair on which you are sitting continue to support you instead of collapsing in a pile of splinters? Why do the laws of physics keep order, and everything doesn’t fall apart in utter chaos? It is because God’s Son is King. Creation’s Maker continues to hold it all together as part of his ruling work.

Doesn’t this part of his ruling work touch our lives as well? Each morning I eat a bowl of cereal and drink a glass of orange juice that my body is processing at this very moment. It is drawing the energy with which I am able to live and function. When I get up, I inhale a medication which helps keep my lungs open so that I can draw my next breath. None of that happens by chance. Jesus is our Maker whose ruling power is still making all of it work. None of this depends upon my faith in him. It would all still be happening if I rejected him, even if I had never heard of him at all. Whether we acknowledge him or not, God’s Son is the King whose power makes us and sustains us today.

We, however, do acknowledge him. And by faith we enjoy a special relationship with him as our Head. “And he is the head of the body, the church.” As with the Creator-Creation relationship, it is natural for us to think of the head of a body as ruling and directing the body, isn’t it? I don’t mean to be too graphic, but have you ever literally seen a chicken with its head cut off? I used to help my aunt and uncle butcher chickens. I can tell you that without the heads, those bodies literally ran and flapped all over the place. Missing the head, the bodies had no rule, they had no direction. The head rules the body.

But the connection of a head with a body is ever so much more intimate than telling the body what to do. Life flows from the head to the body to which it is directly attached. The head observes the body and directs the proper care to each of the parts. The head is deeply concerned about the health and survival of the body to which it is attached.

So our spiritual Head, who rules and guides us as King, also died and rose again from the dead to promise his body life. “…he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy.” Do you spot the promise to us in this description of Jesus? If he is the beginning of those who died and rose again, if he is the firstborn of those who have risen from the dead, then others will follow. As our Head, our King does so much more than rule. He gives us life, life that will never end.

This is not a King who taxes his people into poverty so that he can live in obscene luxury. He holds their entire world together. He gives them direction. He gives them life. Then he gives them life after death. There is a long list of religious hucksters trying to offer us a better deal than the one we have in Jesus–previously undisclosed secrets for a fuller life, religion that lets you feel good about yourself, easier rules to follow. The Apostle Paul wants us to understand that nothing is better than what we already have in Jesus. He is the King supreme.

Colossians 1:13-14 “For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.”

Once, every one of us was under the “dominion of darkness.” Even after God’s word enlightens us, the darkness finds ways of intruding into our lives. It clouds our ability to discern between good and evil. If something is easier, or makes us feel happier, we are inclined to believe this is good. Often this is the darkness blinding us to the truth. If something requires sacrifice on our part, or makes our lives harder, we tend to see this as evil. The darkness doesn’t want us to see that it is good to be patient with others, to practice self-control, to endure hostility without lashing back.

The dominion of darkness presents an even deeper danger, however. Under its dominion, I don’t know who I am. I wouldn’t accept the truth if it were shown to me. We think we are okay just the way we are. We see little or no need to change. If not altogether perfect, our few faults may be easily excused. If we do perceive that there is a serious gap between God’s demands and our performance, we think that we have it within ourselves to close the gap. Just try harder. As someone once put it, we are like the naive plumber looking at Niagara Falls with a pipe wrench and saying, “I can fix this.” Under the dominion of darkness, Scripture passages such as, “I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature,” or “As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins,” are speaking a foreign language. We can’t see how lost we are, unable to save ourselves.

But now, God himself has rescued us “and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves.” Where we stand now, God’s Son is King. In his light, we can see again. We can see that God has made us safe, not because we are good, not because we have improved, but because in God’s Son “we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.”

In Paul’s day, “redemption” was part of the legal language for dealing with slaves or people trapped in inescapable debt. They could be released if a proper payment was made–either purchasing them out of slavery or paying off their debt. Then they had redemption and were free to go.

God’s Son, our King, is our Redeemer. In him we have redemption. Ordinarily we would think this means he dipped into the royal treasury and handed over a bag of gold coins, jewels, or something valuable. I have bonded people out of jail a few times in my ministry. It meant going to the bail bondsman and writing a check, or handing over the cash, or letting them swipe my credit card. Of course, I’m just a poor minister. A King would be in much better position to fork over the necessary dough to make this happen.

If that is what he did for us, we would have every reason to love and thank him, and follow him faithfully as our King forever. But that is not what he did. He didn’t redeem us with cash or trinkets or a credit card. He became the payment. He let himself be killed on a cross so that our debt would be paid, and we would be free to go. Abraham Lincoln described the sacrifice of the fallen soldiers at Gettysburg as “the last full measure of their devotion.” Though our King lives again, the life he gave for our redemption, and the unimaginable suffering he endured in the process, most certainly expresses the full measure of his devotion to you and me. Is there anyone else we could possible prefer as our King?

Just in case we don’t understand the nature of this redemption, Paul defines it this way: the forgiveness of our sins. We have been released from any and all of the claims against us because of our sins. The penalty has been paid. Our guilt has been removed. We are free from God’s condemnation and free to live in the kingdom of the Son he loves. That is why, as our Redeemer, God’s Son is our King.

Ephesians 1:22 “And God has placed all things under his feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church.”

When an ancient emperor or conqueror invaded new lands, defeated their king, and claimed the territory, he often demonstrated his complete control in a very vivid way. He would stand on the neck of the defeated king, literally putting him “under his feet,” as a way of showing that he had total domination.

Not everything that is under Jesus’ complete domination and control was fighting him. The forces of nature have always served him. Nor does he humiliate those whose hearts he has conquered by faith. He led those hearts to surrender through love, not violence. Nevertheless, Paul’s picture makes an emphatic point: all things are under Jesus’ power. He has complete control of the universe and everything in it from where he sits in heaven.

But many things challenge our faith in this, don’t they. Every day it seems as though the forces of evil are gaining the upper hand. Do any of us really believe that we can hold back the flood of changes the so-called “sexual revolution” has brought on our country? Around the world fundamentalist Islam is said to be growing faster than Christianity, spreading its message of oppression and violence faster than Christians can spread our message of forgiveness and love. Sometimes Christianity itself seems to be crumbling from the inside as church after church caves in to our secular culture and gives up its Biblical heritage. Does that look like everything is under Jesus’ power?

Look more closely at our own lives, and we run into real challenges to our faith. It might be easier to believe that Jesus has all that power, if we could believe that he chooses not to get involved or doesn’t care about the details and just lets things go their own way. But if he is actively running the show as the head, and he claims that he loves me, would he let my son land in the hospital and the starter on my car die right in the middle of the wedding-confirmation-graduation season of the year?

The answer to our trial of faith is not found in greater demonstrations of Jesus’ power. Power alone doesn’t win converts. Rather, we find our faith, our joy, our peace in his promises and in his love, like the promise that he wields all this power for his church: “God has placed all things under his feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills everything in every way.”

Don’t think of the Church here as an impersonal institution Jesus wants to succeed for reasons of personal pride, or to please the shareholders, or to pad his resume. This is his people, his family, you and I. For a moment, look away from how he has been running our lives. Look at how he ran his own. Jesus has always been for the church, hasn’t he? Why did he leave heaven and become one of us? He wasn’t improving his own living conditions. He did it to save us. Why did he expend so much of his time and energy healing the sick? He didn’t pad his own pockets like the so-called faith healers today. He did it out of genuine compassion. Why did reach out to the outcast and the sinners and the poor? It didn’t do anything for his social standing. He did it because he sincerely wanted them to be his people, too. Why did he let his body be used as a punching bag, and let them rip the skin from his back with whips, and die an agonizing death on a cross? He owed no debt to society that needed to be paid. He did it to redeem us, the church. Jesus has always been for his people.

That hasn’t changed now that he has returned to heaven and secured the universe under his power. I may not understand why he runs the world the way he does. But then, I don’t have to. I don’t understand why he suffered hell for an unappreciative, self-centered sinner like me. It is enough to know that whether he is making the ultimate sacrifice, or securing and running the universe, he does it for me and for you and for everyone else who belongs to him by faith.

Acts 1:8 “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

When you hear a promise of power here, don’t think just “miracles.” Certainly the Holy Spirit enabled the disciples to do miracles when he came to them at Pentecost. They could speak in foreign languages they never studied. How I have wished for that ability in my ministry! Many times my work as a pastor has led to conversations (or attempts to converse) with Spanish-speaking people. For almost a decade I worked with congregations in Scandinavia. I know just enough Spanish and Swedish to give people the impression I can speak the language, and then say something that makes me look foolish.

Sometimes the Spirit gave healing abilities. Even so, Paul couldn’t get rid of his thorn in the flesh, and Timothy was supposed to drink wine for his stomach problems, not ask the elders to come and lay hands on him for miraculous healing.

When you hear “You will receive power,” also think “abilities.” Think “can-do.” Why would the disciples receive power from the Holy Spirit? Because “you will be my witnesses.” So are we. Though not eyewitnesses, we are still witnesses of the forgiveness Jesus purchased for us on the cross and the never ending life he guaranteed by his resurrection from the dead. The flame in our heart can’t keep these things to itself. The gospel light shines from that heart to bring light to everyone around us. “You are the light of the world,” Jesus says. “…people (do not) light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead, they put it on a stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.” God’s Spirit lights that lamp and makes us shine for the people around us to see.

Sometimes that light comes in the form of words. Paul once said, “This is what we speak, not in words taught us by human wisdom, but in words taught by the Spirit, expressing spiritual truths in spiritual words.” Talking about faith is one part of the new life many Christians find most intimidating. It still gives me butterflies. But even if you haven’t been gifted with a silver tongue, you can look to the Holy Spirit to help with the words you need.

Sometimes our light shines by the simple power of living a life of love. That, too, is the Spirit’s work in us. As he grows the new life in us, our love and kindnesses make it easier for people to see the change the gospel makes. It helps them become more interested in finding out about the gospel for themselves. The growth in faith and love empowering our witness may be subtle, but don’t underestimate what it can do.

A man named Hector Avalos has published a book entitled The End of Biblical Studies. He doesn’t think God’s word has any relevance to our world today. It is just a remnant of the way people thought thousands of years ago. That doesn’t change the value of the gifts Jesus gives through his Spirit. It just means that the gospel is a gem this man doesn’t own for himself. Thank God for giving us his Spirit and the gifts that empower a new life each day.

Acts 1:4-5 “On one occasion, while he was eating with them, he gave them this command: ‘Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about. For John baptized with water, but in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.’”

Martin Luther once said in a Christmas Sermon, “If I tell you that someone on a certain mountain peak has picked up a hundred gold coins, you will say, ‘What is that to me?’ But if you are the one who has picked it up, you will be joyful. What is it to me if someone else has goods, honors, riches, and a pretty wife? That does not touch the heart. But if you hear that this Child (Christ) is yours, that takes root and a man becomes suddenly so strong that to him death and life are the same.”

God wants us to “own” Jesus’ priceless work by faith. When we do, it makes a far greater impact on our lives than having the Hope Diamond sitting in our jewelry box. It gives us a new life. It is the Holy Spirit’s work to bring us Jesus’ gifts and make them our own.

Just before Jesus ascended into heaven, he promised his disciples that gifts were going to be brought to them by the Spirit. We should not think that Jesus’ disciples lacked the Holy Spirit altogether. If that were true, they wouldn’t have been gathered here with Jesus. You see, sin so infects us that we are unable to believe in him on our own. Spiritually, we are a little like Brennan Hawkins, a Boy Scout from Utah who spent four days lost in the mountains fifteen years ago. He would have been found earlier, but his parents had drilled it into his head that he must avoid all contact with strangers. As a result, each time rescuers got close to him, he hid so that they could not find him. He had been so programmed to avoid strangers that he couldn’t recognize them as rescuers, as people on his side, when they came.

That’s what sin and Satan have done to us. They have so programmed our minds and hearts that, on our own, we can’t recognize our Rescuer when he comes. That’s why “No one can say ‘Jesus is Lord’ except by the Holy Spirit” (1 Cor. 12:3). It’s why we confess in the Catechism, “I believe that I cannot by my own thinking or choosing believe in Jesus Christ my Lord nor come to him, but the Holy Ghost has called me by the gospel…” We need the Holy Spirit to overcome our natural fear and opposition, and lead us to Jesus. We need the Holy Spirit to get us to stop trying to rescue ourselves, and let Jesus rescue us instead.

This much the disciples already had. So do you and I. And this is where the new life really begins. Paul reminded the Romans, “God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.” He wrote the Galatians, “Because you are sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, ‘Abba, Father.’ So you are no longer a slave, but a son; and since you are a son, God has made you also an heir.”

The Holy Spirit has convinced us of God’s love for us, the love he demonstrated by giving us Jesus and taking all our sins away, and led us to trust in him. The Holy Spirit has given us the faith to know that God is our dear Father, and we are his dear children, and we enjoy all the rights and privileges of membership in his family. The Spirit is the one who has given us this new life. And once we have that, we are ready to receive the many other gifts God has prepared for his children.

Hebrews 2:10 “In bringing many sons and daughters to glory, it was fitting that God, for whom and through whom everything exists, should make the author of their salvation perfect through suffering.”

God intended to make our Savior perfect through suffering. Does that sound strange? We rarely think of pain as a good thing. We spend billions of dollars fighting it every year. But what if everything else about our lives remained unchanged, and all pain and suffering simply disappeared? How would you know how seriously you twisted your knee when you tripped on the steps? What would tell you that the ulcer in your stomach had grown dangerously large, or that your fever had climbed so high it was life threatening?

More serious still, how would we know the damage our selfish behavior had done to our relationship with husband or wife, parents or children, friends or neighbors if we did not suffer for these things? Would we realize the damage that has been done to the most important relationship of all–our broken relationship with God? In one way or another all our suffering, whether aching bodies or aching hearts, is a warning signal. It exposes the brokenness of our world, the ruin of our own souls, so that we cannot deceive ourselves with the illusion that we are okay just the way we are. It is a foretaste of a greater condemnation to follow. It leads us to turn our hearts to God and repent while he still gives us breath.

So suffering may be fine for us. But what need did Jesus have for it? Heaven was his home, a perfect paradise with no disease or injury to threaten health or life. His whole being was pure love. He knew no selfishness or carelessness. The heavenly Father’s only words about him were, “This is my Son, whom I love, with him I am well pleased.” Jesus alone could say that all his suffering was undeserved.

Still, “It was fitting that God…should make the author of their salvation perfect through suffering.” Was there some flaw in Jesus that had to be corrected so that he could become perfect and holy? No, the word for “perfect” in this case is not the word that refers to sinlessness. It is a word closer to “complete.” It’s the kind of word you would use if you were putting the finishing touches on some project–decorating a cake, or remodeling a room in your house. As you put the cherry on the top, as you tighten the last screw on the last light fixture, you say, “Now it’s perfect.” Your mission is accomplished. Everything looks just the way you wanted it.

Jesus’ suffering finished God’s plan to save us. It made his mission complete. Now, Jesus’ project looked just the way God wanted it. His death on the cross removed every sin for all time. We know this suffering was not easy. He expressed his dread in the Garden of Gethsemane, sweating great drops of blood and praying for another way if possible. But he carried the project all the way to its end. As Jesus was breathing his last, he cried “It is finished.” His Father could say, “Now, it’s perfect.” Forgiveness could be freely distributed to all. The whole world could know the depths of God’s love. Now, “He’s perfect.” Jesus looks like the gracious and merciful Savior and Son of God he is.

Dear Christian, do you see the glorious place you and I must have in God’s own heart? How deeply he must love you, how dearly he must treasure you to trade his throne for a manger, and trade his life for your soul. This Savior suffers to bring many sons and daughters to glory. Someday that will mean the heavenly glory from which he came. But already, that glory begins with being the objects of his love, the people so precious he embraced such suffering to bring them home.

Revelation 22:12 “Behold, I am coming soon! My reward is with me, and I will give to everyone according to what he has done.”

In 1971 former Beatles member John Lennon wrote and recorded his most famous song, Imagine. Not a loud and grating hard rock number, no avant garde musical experiment, I have to think that the tune is universally appealing. It is soft and melodious–almost like a lullaby. The theme of Imagine is a call for world peace. Maybe that dream seems too utopian, the goal unrealistic. But it’s hard to argue with the sentiment.

What’s not hard for the Christian to argue with is the route to world peace the song proposes. Do you know what the very first words are? “Imagine there’s no Heaven.” Why? The answer comes three lines later, “Imagine all the people, living for today.” That’s fine, if you are a spoiled rock star, and you make millions of dollars, and you are surrounded by people who tell you how wonderful you are. But what if you suffer from chronic pain, and there is little or no hope for a cure for your condition in your lifetime? What if you have just buried a dear loved one, someone whose life was tightly woven into the fabric of your own, someone upon whom you depended deeply? What if the only life you have known has been in a painfully dysfunctional family, or unrelenting rejection and loneliness, or abject poverty in some third world country living out of a card board box and sifting through the garbage for something to eat? What if you are simply part of the unremarkable mass of humanity spending your rather unremarkable life getting through one day to the next. Imagine there’s no heaven? That’s supposed to be a happy thought?

Fortunately, the vision in John Lennon’s song is nothing more than a fantasy. The vision in the Book of Revelation is real. There is a heaven in our future, and it won’t be long before the heaven Jesus’ promises us will be ours. “Behold, I am coming soon! My reward is with me, and I will give to everyone according to what he has done.”

While we live in this world, it seems we Christians take one beating after another. We go from defeat to defeat. Does the world embrace our message? No, more and more the things that we believe are rejected and we are pushed off to the fringes. We see it most clearly on issues like creation, the life of the unborn, and the sanctity of heterosexual marriage. But long before these things ever became issues, Jesus’ love at the cross had been rejected, his resurrection considered irrelevant. How else do we account for the fact that 80% of our fellow citizens avoid God’s house each week?

Closer to home, temptation still wins far too many battles for my heart’s affection and my life’s direction. How can it seem that our lives end in anything but defeat when every one of them will end in death?

But things are not as they appear. Even now we have the promise that God gives us the victory, even over death, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Every sinful failure has been atoned for and forgiven by his death on the cross–every one, in full. In Jesus’ death, our death sentence has been served, and our deaths have been miraculously transformed from a horrible end to a wonderful beginning. At our death our souls step through a door, where they become more truly alive than they have ever been before. That is victory. And our broken bodies aren’t finished. They are only resting until they join in the victory when Jesus returns.

This is the reward Jesus is bringing. Christian singer Bart Millard of Mercy Me wrote the song I Can Only Imagine about the real heaven Jesus has prepared. It isn’t a make-believe utopia. It’s the real thing. Today we have to use our imaginations a little to grasp what it is like. But very soon we will see it ourselves.