Heaven and Earth
Where do you belong - heaven or earth?
This simple question reveals the spectrum of Christianity. And it is critical when it comes to caring for creation.
What is your gut response?
If you had to draw heaven and earth with pen and paper what would you draw? What is your mental map of “all that is, seen and unseen” (as the Nicene Creed puts it)?
I started thinking about this in church recently, as 2 Corinthians 4:18 was the focus of worship: “we look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal.”
In this chapter Paul reflects on his own physical sufferings, as a call to the church to “not lose heart” (4:16). Paul grounds within his own body, in his own immediate tangible experience, the dual reality of living both in heaven and on earth at the same time. He knows within himself both being ‘in-body’ as a human and also ‘in-Christ’. He describes this as having an ‘outer nature’ which can be seen and an ‘inner nature’ which cannot be seen. The physical is not irrelevant to Paul but it is “temporary”, “wasting away”, while the spiritual is “eternal”, “glory beyond all measure” (4:17).
These days I attend a pentecostal church. I appreciate its youthful freshness and authentic relationality. But mostly I love to worship wholeheartedly. I can worship through the trappings of tradition, and I enjoy the beauty of stained glass and liturgy, but those things can also get in the way of the “glory beyond all measure” that is the living God.
In a pentecostal world-view, heaven is a very present reality. In worship we step into it. We look into what cannot be seen. It is not hard, it is no human achievement; it is, as Paul puts it, God “who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” (4:6). It is to step into Jesus’ experience of his “Father in heaven” (Matthew 6:9). As Jesus knew himself “in” the Father (John 14:11) so we can be “in” Christ (John 17:21).
But I came home from church disturbed about the stuff that can be seen. If only my “inner nature” truly matters, then what about actual matter, nature itself? Many pentecostals take Paul’s experience of his physicality “wasting away” as an excuse to not care about the physical world. Does salvation work like an “Advance to Go” card in Monopoly – skip the messiness of the world and whizz to the eternal payout?
God created heaven and earth, all that is, seen and unseen. When I read the Bible I am struck by how much God cares about the world, even pouring himself out for the world, into the world, into the earth, the tiniest detail to the vast systems. How could this God not be passionately invested in our climate and our seas? Surely God cares about our rubbish and our hearts, all the things we can see, as well as all that only God can see.
The more we grow in Christ, the more we grow God’s heart in our living. Intimacy in worship is a wonderful way to know ourselves as loved and called. It grounds our souls in the glory of eternity. But we will have eternity to praise. Here and now, God gives us this life to live on this earth, and God gives us his Spirit to energise us to work, in the situations we see around us, with the stuff we hold in our hands.
So this is my map of heaven and earth, both vibrant, vitally real. God inviting us to live in both at once, drawing us into his tender care and eternal glory and also sending us into the grit and trouble of earth. Heaven infusing earth at every level. Until one day all will be one, as Christ gathers up all things, both heaven and earth, in peace (Colossians 1:20).
This simple question reveals the spectrum of Christianity. And it is critical when it comes to caring for creation.
What is your gut response?
If you had to draw heaven and earth with pen and paper what would you draw? What is your mental map of “all that is, seen and unseen” (as the Nicene Creed puts it)?
I started thinking about this in church recently, as 2 Corinthians 4:18 was the focus of worship: “we look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal.”
In this chapter Paul reflects on his own physical sufferings, as a call to the church to “not lose heart” (4:16). Paul grounds within his own body, in his own immediate tangible experience, the dual reality of living both in heaven and on earth at the same time. He knows within himself both being ‘in-body’ as a human and also ‘in-Christ’. He describes this as having an ‘outer nature’ which can be seen and an ‘inner nature’ which cannot be seen. The physical is not irrelevant to Paul but it is “temporary”, “wasting away”, while the spiritual is “eternal”, “glory beyond all measure” (4:17).
These days I attend a pentecostal church. I appreciate its youthful freshness and authentic relationality. But mostly I love to worship wholeheartedly. I can worship through the trappings of tradition, and I enjoy the beauty of stained glass and liturgy, but those things can also get in the way of the “glory beyond all measure” that is the living God.
In a pentecostal world-view, heaven is a very present reality. In worship we step into it. We look into what cannot be seen. It is not hard, it is no human achievement; it is, as Paul puts it, God “who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” (4:6). It is to step into Jesus’ experience of his “Father in heaven” (Matthew 6:9). As Jesus knew himself “in” the Father (John 14:11) so we can be “in” Christ (John 17:21).
But I came home from church disturbed about the stuff that can be seen. If only my “inner nature” truly matters, then what about actual matter, nature itself? Many pentecostals take Paul’s experience of his physicality “wasting away” as an excuse to not care about the physical world. Does salvation work like an “Advance to Go” card in Monopoly – skip the messiness of the world and whizz to the eternal payout?
God created heaven and earth, all that is, seen and unseen. When I read the Bible I am struck by how much God cares about the world, even pouring himself out for the world, into the world, into the earth, the tiniest detail to the vast systems. How could this God not be passionately invested in our climate and our seas? Surely God cares about our rubbish and our hearts, all the things we can see, as well as all that only God can see.
The more we grow in Christ, the more we grow God’s heart in our living. Intimacy in worship is a wonderful way to know ourselves as loved and called. It grounds our souls in the glory of eternity. But we will have eternity to praise. Here and now, God gives us this life to live on this earth, and God gives us his Spirit to energise us to work, in the situations we see around us, with the stuff we hold in our hands.
So this is my map of heaven and earth, both vibrant, vitally real. God inviting us to live in both at once, drawing us into his tender care and eternal glory and also sending us into the grit and trouble of earth. Heaven infusing earth at every level. Until one day all will be one, as Christ gathers up all things, both heaven and earth, in peace (Colossians 1:20).