The Hope of All Mankind?

Being without my primary source of income over the last month has been an interesting experience, to say the least. I have noticed a low-grade pessimism creeping into my attitude, and with that, an increase in irritability. Multiple studies have demonstrated joblessness has an affect on one’s ability to posses a hopeful outlook.

It makes sense. Without a job, we can’t make money. Without money, we can’t afford the things that give us a sense of security. When our sense of security has been threatened for a significant period of time, feelings of despair often creep in. And though I cannot speak for others who are going through similar circumstances, I think this season has revealed that too much of my hope and sense of security lies in things of this world.

Hope is not only critical to us individually, it is also a vital component to a society’s ability to thrive. Politicians are well aware of this need, so they masterfully manipulate the populace to continually place their faith and hope in the god of the State.

Consider these quotes from America’s previous two presidents.

People outside of this country are expressing disappointment because they got high expectations for America. And they want America to lead. They want America to lead through our values, and through our ideals and through our example. But they have high expectations of us because, I think, that this country is still the last best hope on earth. – President Barack Obama on The Late Show with David Letterman, April 9, 2007

September the 11th, 2001 will always be a fixed point in the life of America. … We resolved a year ago to honor every last person lost. … We owe them and their children, and our own, the most enduring monument we can build, a world of liberty and security, made possible by the way America leads and by the way Americans lead our lives. The attack on our nation was also an attack on the ideals that make us a nation. … This ideal of America is the hope of all mankind. That hope drew millions to this harbor. That hope still lights our way. And the light shines in the darkness. And the darkness will not overcome it. May God bless America. – President George W. Bush on Ellis Island, September 11, 2002

The last best hope on earth? The hope of all mankind? Wow. Those are some strong words, especially coming from purported Christ followers.

Did President Bush’s last few sentences stand out to you? Did you recognize them? That’s right. He quoted John 1:5, but instead of saying that the Light that lights our way is Jesus Christ, he said it is the ideal of America. Isn’t that the very definition of blasphemous idolatry?

And yet, many Christian Americans read and heard those words without batting an eyelash. Some respond with whole-hearted approval. Why? Because our hope is where our citizenship is.

The New Testament has quite a bit to say about hope and citizenship, but one of the most striking examples is found in Philippians 3.

For many walk, of whom I often told you, and now tell you even weeping, that they are enemies of the cross of Christ, whose end is destruction, whose god is their appetite, and whose glory is in their shame, who set their minds on earthly things. For our citizenship is in heaven, from which also we eagerly wait for a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ; who will transform the body of our humble state into conformity with the body of His glory, by the exertion of the power that He has even to subject all things to Himself. – Philippians 3:18-21

It’s interesting to note that Paul says the real enemies of the cross are not unbelievers. The actual enemies of the cross are professing Christians whose functional god, whose true security, whose real hope is this world.

True followers of Jesus, Paul writes, identify as citizens of heaven. Accordingly, citizens of heaven find their hope and security in heavenly realities, which should therefore cause Christians to live in a manner that is in stark contrast to citizens of earthly governments.

These truths were powerfully articulated in an early Christian document entitled, A Letter to Diognetus, which was written in the second century and details the attitudes and actions of followers of Jesus throughout the known world at the time.

Christians … live in their own countries, but only as guests and aliens. … Every foreign country is their homeland, and every homeland is a foreign country to them. … They live on earth, but their citizenship is in heaven. They obey the established laws, but through their life they surpass these laws. They love all people and are persecuted by all. Nobody knows them, and yet they are condemned. They are put to death, and just through this, they are brought to life. They are poor as beggars, and yet they make many rich. They lack everything, and yet they have everything in abundance. They are dishonored, and yet have their glory in this very dishonor. They are insulted, and just in this they are vindicated. They are abused, and yet they bless. They are assaulted, and yet it is they who show respect. Doing good, they are sentenced like evildoers. When punished with death, they rejoice in the certainty of being awakened to life. … In a word: what the soul is in the body, the Christians are in the world. – Letter to Diognetus 125-200CE, Volume 1, p. 47-48 [CD-ROM]

The attitudes and actions of the early Christians don’t make sense from a worldly point of view. The Sermon on the Mount doesn’t make sense if one views the things of this world as his or her source of security and hope. Yet, the early Christians lived with a tremendous sense of security because their hope was in heavenly, eternal realities. They also saw countless lives transformed by the power of the Holy Spirit as the kingdom of God grew like a mustard seed in their midst.

People need this heavenly hope demonstrated to them by the Church like the body needs the soul. Without the soul, the body is a lifeless corpse. Therefore, if the Church’s hope is in the things of the world, we’re all in a lot of trouble. But if the Church has its hope fixed completely on the gracious realities brought to us through Jesus Christ, then His light will shine brightly through us and the darkness will not overcome it.

Jesus Christ is the true and eternal hope of all mankind. So whether your trial is currently one of joblessness or abundance, how do you respond inwardly and outwardly when you feel your temporal, earthly securities being threatened? How can you demonstrate the hope of heavenly citizenship to others in the situation you find yourself today? 

Though the politicians would have you to believe otherwise, the world and all its desires are passing away; but the one who does the will of God lives forever. Put your hope in Jesus. 

The Unlikely Apostle Pt. 4: “The Fellowship of His Sufferings…”

Anything that is truly wonderful in our lives is going to come with its share of difficulties. Seeking to graduate from college, being married, parenting children, working in ministry… each of these amazing endeavors have a way of bringing us to our wits end at times.

At various points in my life, I’ve found myself crying out to God, “I don’t know how I can keep going on like this!”

I think part of the reason for these breaking points is due to TV programs and movies, which have convinced some part of my subconscious that tension is supposed to be resolved in 23 minutes, or an-hour-and-a-half if it’s a really intense situation. Another variable that has subtly shaped my worldview has been a steady, low-grade dose of teaching throughout my life that Christians are not actually blessed when we suffer for righteousness.

We always feel blessed when we win, blessed when we’re first, blessed when we’re promoted, blessed when we’re adored, blessed when we’re full, blessed when we’re happy, blessed when we buy new things, and blessed when we’re safe.

Conversely, we struggle to feel blessed when we’re defeated, blessed when we’re last, blessed when we lose a job, blessed when we’re hated, blessed when we’re hungry, blessed when we are mourning, blessed when we are broke, and blessed when we are attacked.

Like the Apostles in the gospels, we struggle to believe the simple words of Christ about suffering.

However, have you noticed the radical shift that happened in the Apostles’ lives after Pentecost? Have you observed the drastic change in their approach toward suffering after the Holy Spirit came on them in power?

Before Pentecost, they are passionate about avoiding personal suffering, and quite willing to cause the enemies of God to suffer. After Pentecost, though, they hold prayer meetings where they praise God for the opportunity to suffer for Him and see enemies of the cross become believers as a result.

The Apostle Paul seems to have actually sought out opportunities to suffer for Christ from time to time. He even bragged about the extensive horrors he experienced for the cause of the gospel.

Paul explains his perspective on suffering for Christ in Philippians 3.

I count all things to be loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but rubbish so that I may gain Christ, and may be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own derived from the Law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which comes from God on the basis of faith, that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death; in order that I may attain to the resurrection from the dead. – Philippians 3:8-11

According to Paul, there is a certain fellowship, a partnership, a communion we experience with Jesus when we suffer for Him. According to Paul, suffering for our Lord is one of the primary ways we get to know Him better. And the early Christians believed in the same path toward partaking in these Christological blessings.

True knowledge, then, consists in the understanding of Christ. Paul terms this the wisdom of God hidden in a mystery, which, “the natural man will not receive,” the doctrine of the cross. … For the truth is unsophisticated… as the same apostle declares, being easy to comprehend by those who are obedient. For it renders us likened to Christ, if we experience “the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings.” … For truly the first thing is to deny one’s self and to follow Christ; and those who do this are borne onward to perfection, having fulfilled all their Teacher’s will, becoming sons of God by spiritual regeneration, and heirs of the kingdom of heaven. – Irenaeus 180CE, Volume 1, p. 969 [CD-ROM]

If we experience fellowship with Christ through suffering with Him, the first thing we must do is deny ourselves, pick up our cross and follow Him. We must crucify our fleshly desires and choose the Spirit. Our flesh naturally avoids suffering and seeks the broad, easy road, which ultimately leads to destruction. The Spirit, which yearns for us to commune with Jesus, calls us to love Jesus and obey His voice by His power, even if it seems foolish to us at first.

Winning feels good. So does receiving a promotion, being applauded, gorging ourselves at Thanksgiving, and sleeping at night without any fear of having our houses broken into. But sometimes, good is the greatest enemy of the best.

Paul met Jesus. Paul saw the glory of God. Paul was caught up into the third heaven. And Paul came back saying that all the good things of this world are a four-letter-word compared to the greatness of knowing Jesus Christ our Lord.

Times of suffering may bring us to our wits end. That’s true. But perhaps we can reframe those breaking points as opportunities to fellowship with Jesus like we couldn’t otherwise. Perhaps they are opportunities to know Christ and find joy, hope and peace that actually do surpass understanding.

How to Find Gratitude in Suffering

Want to find gratitude in the midst of your suffering?

Over the last 12 years or so, I’ve been blessed to see several people be miraculously healed of various ailments by the grace and power of God. The first guy I knew who had the spiritual gift of healing was a South African college student named Jaco, who was on the same mission trip as me to Swaziland, Africa in 2004. Jaco and I were frequently partnered up throughout that month in service, and we became fast friends. 

One of the last nights there in Swaziland, I was hanging out in Jaco’s dorm room. He asked if there was anything I wanted to be healed of, and I immediately said, “Asthma.” I’ve been in the ICU because of that disease, and it’s plagued me since early childhood. Jaco prayed just like he always did, but nothing happened. 

I thanked him for the prayer, but on the inside I was upset. Why would God heal so many people all around me, even use me to pray for people and them get healed, yet not heal me? 

Fast-forward about 7 years. I was about 31 years old, on staff at a Southern Baptist church, and had seen even more Americans healed since that first Africa trip. One night after a gathering at the church, I locked the gate and headed home around 9:15pm.

Near the feeder road of the freeway, I saw a young Hispanic man standing by his stalled old car. I pulled over and helped him push his car what felt like about half a mile to a gas station. Once we got there I began having an asthma attack, though I tried to keep my new friend from noticing. 

It was a long, difficult walk back to my car. I flung open the door and lifted the console, but there was no inhaler in sight! Struggling to take a breath, I speedily drove back to my house, confident that there I’d find relief. Alas, when I got home all I found was one empty inhaler! 

Now I was starting to freak out a bit. I got a glass of water, sat on top of the kitchen table, turned on the fan and tried my best to chill out. However, thoughts of bitterness swept through my mind as I sat there. And I asked God why He would let me have an asthma attack I couldn’t fix, immediately after helping some stranger out in the middle of the night. 

But just then, a picture of the crucifixion scene from the Passion of the Christ entered my head. It hit me that when someone dies from crucifixion, they die from asphyxiation, just like when someone dies from an asthma attack. It hit me that Jesus knows exactly what it's like to be me, but more so. I suddenly had this realization that the very thing I was bitter about God not healing me of, Jesus chose to take upon Himself… for me… for us. 

And right there, wheezing on my kitchen table, a different kind of wind started to fill me. A wind of gratitude. I began to thank God for not healing me of asthma. Why? Because I may never be tortured for the Kingdom. I may never be martyred for the Kingdom. But every time I wheeze, I get to experience a minuscule taste of the unmatched love Jesus poured out for six hours one Friday.

Maybe you've been abused. Maybe you've recently lost someone close to you. Maybe people have started malicious rumors designed to destroy you. Maybe you've been betrayed. Maybe your own family has turned against you. Maybe your closest friends turned their backs on you when you needed them the most. Maybe you feel like no one has ever understood you. 

Be encouraged. Jesus comes to you now, wraps His arms around your neck and says, "Me too."

There on my kitchen table, God started to change my view of asthma and change my view of suffering. And I pray that if one day I am taken away in chains to my execution like Ignatius, the bishop of Antioch, I would learn to see those chains as spiritual jewels like he did. For what a spiritual blessing it is to partake in the sufferings of Christ!

He is my hope; He is my boast; He is my never-failing riches, on whose account I bear about with me these bonds from Syria to Rome, these spiritual jewels, in which may I be perfected through your prayers, and become a partaker of the sufferings of Christ, and have fellowship with Him in His death, His resurrection from the dead, and His everlasting life. – Ignatius 105CE, Volume 1, p. 91 [CD-ROM]