Wednesday night at my church, our pastor asked an interesting question regarding 1 Peter 1:5. The passage reads, “…who, by God’s power, are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.” Pastor John asked us how we would respond to someone asking why Christians still suffer if our God is guarding us through faith.

In other words, if God is so powerful and loving and if He truly guards His own, why do His people still deal with sickness, loss, grief, financial ruin, and the like?

My first thought was of Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 5:1-2: “For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling…”

I think of it as the tabernacle/temple/eternity paradigm.

Incredibly, God gave us an illustration of worship in temporary accommodations while in exile when He gave the budding nation of Israel the tabernacle (a specific type of tent) in which to worship Him during their journey between Egypt, the place of their captivity, and the Promised Land. You can read about it in the book of Exodus.

Once they were in the Promised Land and a kingdom was finally established, God gave the third king of Israel permission to build a more permanent worship site – the temple (see 1 Kings 6). However, because even the temple was built from corruptible materials in this sin-corrupted world, and because the people of the young nation were also sin-sick and twisted, the nation divided and eventually the first temple fell.

Yet even the temple is just a glimpse of our ultimate eternal worship place in the very presence of God. In the future city of the New Jerusalem, there will not even be a temple, “for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb” (Revelation 21:22). This will be our permanent home; this will be our permanent place of worship!

So what does this have to do with tents and suffering?

This body – this life – is all temporary. What’s more, it belongs to a reality in which everything has a contrasting opposite: up and down, good and evil, fast and slow, light and dark, and so forth. But when we are “born again,” as Peter mentions in 1 Peter 1:3 (see also John 3, et al), we die to this duality and are made into a new creation – one prepared to someday live in a reality without sin, darkness, death, and decay.

Yet until then, the new creatures we are still reside in these temporary, frail containers of meat and water. In this way, our physical bodies are like tents. And for those of us who are in Christ, our current bodies are temporary residences meant to be maintained long enough to function during our sojourn on earth, but they are not our permanent homes.

We are in essence camping in a foreign and often hostile territory on an ambassadorial mission for our King. We are sent here to represent Him to the world at large as well as to convince others the value of relinquishing their earthly citizenship and joining us in exile for the promise of a homecoming like no other.

Because we are not home, we will suffer the same homesickness, feelings of isolation, and sense of being misunderstood as any other stranger in a strange land. Also, because we are still housed in bodies inextricably tied to a planet broken by evil and sin, we will suffer just as all inhabitants of this world do. Sickness, death, and pain do not pass us by just because we are citizens of a different and eternal realm. We still live here, after all.

In addition to these general sufferings, there is the added complexity that we will suffer because of our choice to align ourselves with the King of kings, especially as we navigate in a world largely hostile to His message and dead-set (pun intended) on each individual being his or her own little god and calling the shots.

Suffering is part and parcel of the tent-dweller, and yet it is not all bad. Suffering strips us of self-reliance, of hubris, of many ignoble traits and daily reminds us we are not yet home. It also daily reminds us to rely on our God who is powerful and able to sustain us, even through suffering, until the day He calls us home.

Home.

It’s because of the promise of home we endure suffering. This homecoming will be unlike any earthly homecoming, because all of earth is still under the domination of sin. When our “tents” are destroyed and we clothe ourselves with our heavenly dwelling, all the bad things of the world will be destroyed along with them.

The new reality we were born into will finally be realized in its completeness. No more sorrow, no more shame, no more sin or death or pain or tears. All will be made new – even the heavens and the earth – and we will see the beauty of our King unveiled and in His splendor.

And THAT, my friends, is worth every ounce of suffering and more!

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true” (Revelation 21:1-5).