Hebrews 11:13 “All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth.”

Death is scary for most people. Some years ago I watched congressional hearings on the use of stem cells from fetal tissue for research. Among those testifying were celebrities who suffered from conditions for which there was some hope to discover a cure through such research. I detected a certain sense of desperation in their pleas. I suspect their diseases made death a little more real, a little more frightening than it is for most. They were clinging to hope for this life as they made their case.

Past heroes of the faith like those referenced in Hebrews 11 may have feared death the closer it came, too. But they shared a different perspective. By faith they recognized this world is not our final home. We are like foreigners passing through—“aliens and strangers.” They demonstrated almost an eagerness as they looked ahead to the eternal future God had promised them. They welcomed what they saw. They offered a willing farewell to this life and embrace of the one to come.

It was clear to them that the life to come was far superior. “People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead they were longing for a better country– a heavenly one. Therefore, God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them” (Hebrews 11:14-16).

Most of us like to reminisce about the place where we grew up. Sentimental memories wash over us as we contemplate the good old days. Perhaps Abraham also had fond memories of the countries he had left: growing up in Ur of the Chaldees, or spending his middle years in Haran, where he buried his father.

But Abraham realized, as did his believing children after him, that he could no more find real happiness in his old haunts than in Canaan where he now lived. For him there was no plot of ground any place on the globe that could give him what he really longed for: the settled security of finally arriving home in heaven.

By faith we share Abraham’s perspective. It’s not this life that is worth straining to hold onto. This is not the place to invest all the best that we have. Our hearts belong to the heavenly home to come. There we can leave behind the foolishness that has marred our time here. There we will find a God who is not ashamed to be called our God. There he will throw his arm around us like a proud Father and boast, “That’s my son or daughter, and I’m his or her Dad.”

Home: by faith we know what it looks like. By faith we understand we haven’t reached it yet. By faith God will guide us until we are safely there.

Hebrews 11:9-10 “By faith (Abraham) made his home in the promised land like a stranger in a foreign country; he lived in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God.”

When God finally told Abraham, “OK, Abraham, we’re here. This land is your new home,” Abraham didn’t live like he was at home. He didn’t buy a farm or choose a city and build a comfortable house for himself. Though he was a wealthy man, he continued to live in tents as though he was merely passing through. Can you imagine living out of a suitcase for the rest of your life?

You may also remember Abraham’s nephew Lot. He was traveling with Abraham. He made himself right at home when they reached the promised land. He chose some of the nicest territory for grazing his sheep, found himself a nice home in the city of Sodom, and fit in with the locals as well as he could, though he didn’t share in all their vices. He settled down for a comfortable life.

Abraham’s way was the way of faith. Faith leads us to live a different kind of life from the world around us. Like Lot, we may prefer to blend right in to our surroundings. When we are in school we want to dress like everyone else, listen to the same kind of music, and use the same trendy jargon the rest are using. When we get to be adults we want to make as much money as our neighbors, enroll our children in the same sorts of activities they enjoy, and drive a vehicle as nice as the next guy’s. In and of themselves, these things are harmless.

But the more we try to become like our world, the more worldly we become. Should that come as a surprise? Then some of the not so harmless features of our world rub off on us. Lot wasn’t buried as deep in the lifestyle of Sodom as his neighbors. The Lord rescued him before he destroyed the city. But Lot’s faith and morals were seriously weakened by the years he lived in the city.

We may not adopt all the ungodly beliefs our own neighbors have adopted, but Twenty-first Century Christians also grow weak from their exposure to the values of this world. We feather our nests as though this was our true home. We let the needs of our neighbor or God’s kingdom go begging.

By faith God has broken our attachments to this place and made us citizens of another. All by himself our Savior fought a war of independence to free us from the world’s claim on us. Faith takes hold of the fact that Jesus’ death and resurrection has provided something far greater, far grander, than our small, sad existence here. We may have no choice but to eat, and sleep, and work on the dirty little ball we call earth. But faith can lead us, like Abraham, to live our lives as though we are just passing through.

Hebrews 11:8 “By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going.”

I don’t believe I have ever met anyone who enjoyed moving. A person I know once remarked that never ending packing and moving, and packing and moving, would be a punishment suitable for hell. We can work up some excitement over the prospect of arriving at a new home, but moving itself is drudgery.

When God called Abraham to move, he didn’t even tell him where he was going. The book of Genesis describes his call this way, “Leave your country, your people and your father’s household and go to the land I will show you.” God was as much as saying, “Abraham, I want you to pack up everything you own and start traveling. You can head in a more or less southwesterly direction. When you get there I’ll let you know.” This was before interstate highways, Atlas Van Lines or even U-Haul. Making this move didn’t make a great deal of sense for Abraham’s career. It did not serve his family in some obvious way. But since Abraham trusted God, since he had faith, he went.

Faith still leads us to follow God even when we can’t see or understand where he is leading. That conflicts with our natural sense of how to live our lives. We don’t want to start something without knowing exactly what it’s going cost. We want to know the price we will pay in time, money, and effort. We don’t want to follow a course when we can’t see exactly where it leads. We expect reasonable assurance that we like where it is going. We don’t want to be satisfied with a promise that God will supply all the strength we need for the journey along the way, and when we get there we will be where he wants us to be.

This gets us into all sorts of sinful trouble. In a sense, our lives all look a little like Abraham’s. We all have our callings. The Lord has put us into our various stations in life in our families, our careers, or our church. As we travel we have to exert a huge effort as we interact with other people and fulfill our duties. But sometimes it is hard to see where this marriage, this job, this office, this life is going. When following our Lord calls for us to make some sacrifices, and we don’t know what we’re going to get in return, we are tempted to stop moving forward. “That’s enough Lord. I’m not going any farther. I’m not going to put anything more into this relationship or this program unless you show me that it’s all going to work.”

Faith has a different perspective. And it’s not as though God expects us to work on a completely blind faith. Even before faith considers where God is asking us to go for him, it sees where he has gone for us. Our Lord saw exactly where saving us would take him. He went anyway. It led him on a pilgrimage from the joys of heaven to the hardships of our world. It led him to give up the beauty of his holiness to be clothed with the filth of our sins. It led him to embrace horrors of death on a cross and the punishment of hell in our place. He traveled this road so that we would never have to. He provided us with the shortcut to heaven. Now faith knows it is safe to follow wherever God asks us to go…even if I don’t understand the outcome.

Psalm 67:6-7 “Then the land will yield its harvest, and God, our God, will bless us. God will bless us, and all the ends of the earth will fear him.”

This passage shares the focus of our national Day of Thanksgiving. “The land will yield its harvest, and God will bless us.” Whether this year’s harvest for you came in the form of cash in the bank or stock options, whether it came in the form of a new job or a steady job, whether it resulted in a great surplus or just enough to cover the bills, the Lord has faithfully blessed us once again with all that we need for our body and life. This Thanksgiving holiday we have feasted to draw attention again to how richly our God provides.

“But wait a minute,” you might say. “What does this have to do with all the spiritual blessings God gives his people? Doesn’t the Lord give the necessities of life to people regardless of their faith? Aren’t their pagans whose harvest has been richer and whose feast will be far bigger than anything we enjoy?” And it is true, as Jesus says, that God “causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous” (Matthew 5:45).

But listen again to the words of the Psalm, “Then the land will yield its harvest, and God, our God will bless us.” Many an unbeliever looks at the turkey on the table and sees only something to satisfy his stomach. But God has opened our eyes by faith. We see God blessing us there. Here is a tangible token of that love which is endlessly involved in giving us gifts and providing our every earthly and spiritual need. “May the peoples praise you, O God; may all the people’s praise you”–for your rich harvest of love.

Psalm 67:3-4 “May the peoples praise you, O God; may all the peoples praise you. May the nations be glad and sing for joy, for you rule the peoples justly and guide the nations of the earth.”

It is not our natural condition to be excited about God ruling. Many prefer to be free of him. British atheist Julian Huxley once spoke of the “enormous relief which comes from rejecting the idea of God.” Such thinking makes them think they are free to do as they please, but they are only deceiving themselves.

The psalmist doesn’t pray here that someday God might rule the peoples. He states his rule as a simple fact. To deny God’s rule is to participate in the same rebellion by which Adam and Eve dragged us all into sin in the first place. This is not freedom. It’s slavery to sin.

God’s children, however, recognize God’s rule for the wonderful thing that it is. Our God does not glower over us like some terrible tyrant. He does not drive us lovelessly or bully us into his service. He has set himself up as Lord of our hearts by the gospel of peace. He has courted and won us by his unparalleled, unstoppable, and unfathomable love, by the supreme sacrifice of his Son to save us.

This is no self-serving Sovereign, selfishly saying, “You go right ahead. I’ll be right here behind you.” He is more than a brave hero or champion, leading the troops into battle. As our King he faced the enemy alone. He laid down his life to make us victors. That is leadership. When the psalmist says, “You rule the peoples justly,” he is not referring first to the fact that God has the power to make all things bend to his will. He is referring to this unique way in which he used his authority and position to serve us.

We sometimes refer to those who govern us as “public servants.” The behavior of our politicians has made many cynical. They doubt whether “service” really ever enters the minds of those who hold high offices in our land. But “service” is exactly what our God gives us as he rules the peoples justly and guides the nations of the earth. “May the peoples praise you, O God; may all the peoples praise you”–for your rule.

Psalm 67: 1-2 “May God be gracious to us and bless us and make his face shine upon us—so that your ways may be known on earth, your salvation among all nations.”

What does the psalmist mean by “your ways?” Sometimes when we think of God’s ways, we think of the ten commandments. In my counseling I find myself cutting to the chase more and more. I ask people up front, “Do you want to do things God’s way?” What I am asking is this: “Are you willing to be guided by God’s word? Are you willing to submit your desires and ideas to his? Or are we going to be sitting here just talking around in circles?” God’s ways, his commandments, are no big secret. We just don’t want to believe that they apply to us.

Even though God has promised to bless us if we follow his ways, though they lead us into a better and more blessed life, they often don’t inspire lofty praise and thanksgiving. The better we know them, the more clearly we see the vast gulf between God’s demands and our behavior. It is hard to praise God while we are smothering in our sin.

But the ways the author of Psalm 67 has in mind aren’t the ways God wants us to behave. These are the ways an unbelievably gracious God behaves himself. He created us and our world for the joy of having someone to pour out his affection on. Picture the craftsmen practicing his art not so much for profit, but for the pure joy of working with each piece, and making it as beautiful as it can possibly be. Though our sins have made us unbelievably difficult material to work with, the Craftsman hasn’t lost interest. He continues to pour out good things on believer and unbeliever alike.

This is because God’s way is to love deeply and completely in spite of our unworthiness. When I was growing up my younger brother had a security blanket. Over the years it became more ragged and tattered until it was literally one big hole with a cloth border around it. Despite its condition he continued to love it. He refused to throw it away. It was hard for me to see what he saw in such a rag anymore. You remember that in Isaiah God tells us that even our righteous acts are like filthy rags. Yet God doesn’t throw us away. His way is to continue to love us, even to cherish us, in spite of our ragged and tattered condition.

Think of the ways the Lord describes his love for us. He compares it to the devotion a good shepherd gives to protecting his sheep, the tender care a responsible and affectionate Father provides for his children, the intense love and desire a husband feels for his new bride. All the while his love for us continues to blaze hot and bright though we are sheep who love to wander, ungrateful children who constantly disobey, and a cheating spouse who gives her love to someone else.

Yet God’s way is to love us even more. He gives us more than things. He gives us more than affection. He gives us himself. The Psalmist calls it salvation. We know it as our Savior Jesus Christ. The Craftsman unites himself with the wood, or clay, or stone with which he works. He becomes a part of his own art. The Shepherd sacrifices his own life to save the sheep who were running away from him. In Jesus Christ God has joined our dysfunctional family and taken the whipping all the other children deserved. “May the peoples praise you, O God, may all the peoples praise you”–for your ways.

Philippians 1: 24-25 “It is more necessary for you that I remain in the body. Convinced of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for your progress and joy in the faith, so that through my being with you again your joy in Christ Jesus will overflow on account of me.”

Paul was convinced that by continuing to live and to serve, the Christians in Philippi would grow in their faith. He was certain they would find greater joy in their faith in Jesus. I want you to note something about Paul’s confidence. He has no visible proof that this would happen. He is talking about a future event. He is talking about inner attitudes and emotions that can’t be seen or measured.

But Paul knew how God’s word works. God promises that it won’t return to him empty. It will accomplish what he desires and achieve the purpose for which he sent it. Paul knew that he was serving under the power of the living Jesus who had risen from the dead. That meant doing as he once encouraged the Corinthians, “Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain” (1 Cor. 15:58b).

So Paul was convinced that their faith would grow. Even more, these Philippian Christians would be lifted up in joy, and that joy would so fill them that it would overflow.

Sometimes it’s hard for us to see how the things we do for Jesus, or the words we speak for him, are doing any good. Our evangelism efforts don’t always mean another person in the pew. Our words of Christian comfort don’t seem to dry any tears or bring any relief. Our Sunday school classes don’t transform our students into eager, well-behaved biblical scholars. Our cleaning and our fixing have to be repeated over and over, and maybe it’s hard to see what that has to do with real church work anyway.

Remember that faith and joy are not so clearly visible to our eyes. They can’t be measured by any human instruments. The promise of your living Savior is that your labor in the Lord is not in vain. Since God blesses our service to him, we can rejoice even when the fruit of our labor hard to see. We can trust that our service will help to bring faith and joy to others.

A member of a church I once served always greeted me on Sunday morning with, “It’s a beautiful day.” It could be pouring rain for a week. It could be as dry as dust and as hot as blazes. It could be bitter cold. It was always a beautiful day. He was right, and it’s still a beautiful day for us to trust God’s promises and serve his people with joy.

Philippians 1:20-21 “I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.”

This is a striking statement. When you see pictures of people who have been arrested on TV, rarely do you see them holding their heads high and smiling at the camera. They put their hands over their face, or pull a shirt or jacket up over their heads so that no one can see them. They haven’t been convicted yet, but they are ashamed to have been taken into custody.

Paul had been under arrest for over two years and was facing trial. Yet he was absolutely confident he would not be disgraced by all this. He was following where his Savior led him in life. No matter where that might be, as long as he was trusting in Jesus, there was no shame for him. Even if his only way out of prison was to die there, Paul knew his trust in Jesus was not misplaced. Christ would be glorified. Paul rejoiced to know Jesus would not let him down.

Paul’s words “whether by life or by death” raise another powerful argument for rejoicing. He explains that we gain whether we live or die. “For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain.”

The apostle could be content with either option. Even more, he could rejoice whether God was going to take his life immediately or let him continue to live for a long time. Look at Paul’s reasoning closely and see if he can help you share in his optimism.

“To live is Christ,” means this: “If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me.” Paul doesn’t say this because life was easy. It wasn’t. Imprisonment wasn’t even one of the more difficult crosses he bore. His health was poor. He had many enemies. He had more work than one man could handle. He enjoyed none of our modern comforts and conveniences.

But God had given him such a heart for Gospel ministry that, in spite of all this, he could be joyful. Jesus was getting his work done through Paul. Souls were being led to salvation. At times, even Paul’s mission ventures appeared to fail. In almost every city his gospel work started a riot. It never made him popular to the majority. But souls were finding Jesus. Living meant that Paul could still be part of God’s plan to save people from their sin.

If living has become a joyless exercise for us, maybe we are looking for our joy in the wrong place. There is nothing wrong with enjoying our friends, family, hobbies, or possessions. In fact, thankful Christians will praise God for these gifts. But all these things can be taken away. Jesus love for us, the forgiveness he extends us each day, the eternal promises he has made our own are sources of joy that no one can ever take away. Only the work we do to share those gifts with others has truly eternal value. That joy is available to us as long as we have bodies with which to serve. It is a joy we can find no matter what life is serving.

The other possibility confronting Paul was death. Paul considered this the more “appealing” option. “I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far…” Because the world can see no good, no purpose, in suffering, they, too, may desire death. They hope it will bring them relief and escape. For the unbelieving, nothing could be farther from the truth. Death is still punishment. The author of Hebrews reminds us, “Man is destined once to die, and after that to face judgment.” Without Jesus, death only makes things worse.

Paul desired more than mere departure. He desired “to depart and be with Christ.” Jesus’ death and resurrection makes us absolutely certain of forgiveness. It guarantees that death is our gateway to a new and better life as well. We die to live–to live with Jesus and live in love. That means that we can rejoice even when life itself is about to be taken from us.

There are no bad options for those whose life is Jesus. Imprisonment, life, death—they are all occasions for hope and joy. May God give us eyes like Paul’s to see it.

Philippians 1:18-19  I will continue to rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and the help given by the Spirit of Jesus Christ, what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance.”

Sometimes we approach life like our children approach the table when they don’t like what’s for dinner. They complain, then sulk, then glumly pick at their food, unhappy about what they have been served. It doesn’t matter that they don’t have to go hungry, or that the food is good for them. It doesn’t taste good. They find no joy in trying to choke it down.

Life serves up sour or bitter experiences for us as well. Maybe we have trouble getting along with our own family. For some, health is a constant struggle. Sometimes we watch helplessly while goals for which we worked for weeks, years, maybe even our whole lives, come apart. They disintegrate before our very eyes. What is there to do at such times but complain and glumly try to pick our way through life, unhappy about what we have been served?

Consider the Apostle Paul. At one point in his life he had been on the fast track to respect and power as a leader of the Jewish people. Then Jesus came and turned his life upside down. Christ made him one of the most reviled members of that despised new faith. As Paul writes these words to the Philippians he had been a prisoner for over two years. You might say that life hadn’t served Paul a gourmet feast, either. But what does Paul say about all this? “I will continue to rejoice.” And then he tells us why.

Paul continued to rejoice in spite of his troubles because he was sure Jesus would not let him down. First, he knew his Savior had surrounded him with supportive fellow believers like these Christians from Philippi. They were praying for Paul. Some people may question or criticize “thoughts and prayers” today. Paul coveted them.

I doubt whether this strikes us as unusual. We often ask each other for prayers. But this suggests a question: How much joy do we find in knowing others are praying for us? The power of prayer doesn’t lie in the words we say. It rests in the fact that God is pleased to answer our prayers. As Paul writes, perhaps he was remembering that God once miraculously delivered Peter from prison in response to the church’s earnest prayers. In spite of his chains, Paul was confident that Jesus’ answer to prayers wouldn’t let him down. He found joy as he anticipated God’s answer. Do we sometimes make our prayer requests without feeling our burden lightened so much as an ounce? We have no less reason to trust God’s answer.

Secondly, Paul rejoiced because he had “the help of the Spirit of Jesus Christ…” Even in his current situation, sitting in prison and facing trial, Jesus was supplying what he needed. One has to imagine that, for a man like Paul, who traveled the world to share the gospel, being held prisoner for over two years was particularly frustrating. He knew that he couldn’t rely on himself to get through the long days. If his spirits began to sink, he looked to the Spirit his Savior promised to send to keep him going. You may remember that when Paul and Silas had been beaten and thrown into jail in the same city of Philippi, these two sang hymns all night to stir up the Spirit and bolster their faith.

Now Paul was held captive again, and he trusted in the same source of strength. We are tempted to hold a pity party for ourselves when life is suffocating our joy and happiness. But what does that get us? In addition to feeling generally miserable, we end up feeding poison to our own faith.

It is often in the middle of such trying times that we can best experience the help, comfort, and joy the Spirit of Jesus Christ provides. That help is never any farther away than our Bible or hymnal. Jesus promises the Father will give the Spirit to those who pray to him. But don’t forget how he answers that prayer. If we pray and don’t go to the word–whether written, spoken, or sung–it’s like ordering pizza but not answering the door when it arrives.

Joy does not have to be limited by the degree to which we find life pleasant. In spite of our circumstances, God will give it to those who ask. But don’t forget to look where he delivers it: in his words of love and grace.