in this tent we groan

Why Do We Still Suffer?

~ Heather Davis ~ 2 Comments

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).

Thursday Repost

~ Heather Davis ~ 11 Comments

And again, I find myself shortish on time and longish on things to say. Cramming every moment of writing time into my novel in hopes of having a finished product ready to pitch in September when I attend a nearby conference. And dealing with teens, intractable headaches, etc.

But some bit of good news! I have a tumor inside my skull. While it may not sound like good news, it is. It is very tiny, almost certainly benign, treated with medication, explains a few odd symptoms I’ve enjoyed of late, and may even have something to do with my headaches.

The truth is, even if it wasn’t benign, it would still be good news. Whatever God wants to do with me is His business. I am His either way. To live is Christ; to die is gain. Truthfully.

But without further ado:

On Tents

On Tents

~ Heather Davis ~ 2 Comments

For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened–not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.
2 Corinthians 5:4

Camping in Minnesota at the end of November is no joke. Before  you find yourself overly impressed by our cold tolerance, however, I should disclose that it wasn’t really all that cold (for Minnesota, that is — the low temps were still in the double digits), and that we were actually in a very warm and snug camper right in the back yard of some family members.

Still, midnight trips to the necessary through a breezy Minnesota November were less than fun. But there was family, laughter, and love, and there were mornings of quiet beauty as the sun rose scattering pink and gold splashes over the frost-covered fields.

And it did get me thinking…

For most of my life, camping has been a recreational activity enjoyed both when I was young and now with my own husband and children. We have typically camped in nice weather, though once or twice we have had the opportunity of finding out what the freezing point feels like in a tent. However, by and large our camping trips have been only for pleasure.

Except for one, that is.

In the weeks since our trip, I have been reflecting on the nuances of our bodies as tents — temporary dwellings in which we reside on the long journey towards our true home.  In that sense, this tent of mine is more akin to one of military use than the ones our family has used for enjoyment. After all, we who are in Christ are camping, as C. S. Lewis puts it, in “enemy-occupied territory.”

Living in tents behind enemy lines means that there will be times of hardship and difficulty. There will be unpleasantness, conflict, and lack of sleep. Comforts may be minimal or non-existent. At times we may even find ourselves alone or in the midst of enemy troops, far from the support of our fellow soldiers and friends.

At such times, we take comfort that this is not our home; that the tent we shelter within is just that: a tent. It is a temporary and portable shelter and it is not meant to be lived in forever.

For those of us who have been living in these tents for some four decades or more, we may occasionally be dismayed at the condition of our canvas. It may be creased with much use, weather-stained, patched, and may appear increasingly shabby.

No matter — we do our best to maintain it still. However, we can patch and scrub with some joy knowing that the time will come when we lay the tired, old things aside and take residence in our permanent home.

Still, despite the inevitable battles and skirmishes that rage around us while living in the enemy’s country, we can find enjoyment during our stay in these tents.  While we are here, we take a moment to savor the sunrise, to linger over the sight of a single butterfly or the sound of birdsong, to find quiet reminders of the Savior’s love amidst the tumult, to enjoy the company of those who are stationed with us at various points of our mission.

And always, always, we stand firm, enduring the hardship and giving thanks for the wonders of His grace, knowing that our time in this tent is ultimately short.  One day, perhaps sooner than we know, we will be called off the battlefields to our eternal home.  Then, O glorious future day! Then, we will be clothed with life!

Lord, teach us to be steadfast, believing and living in Your promises. Let us not grow weary of doing good; rather we ask that You will help us to persevere, walking faithfully in Your ways and living for Your purposes. Help us, then, to walk wisely during our sojourning here, making the best use of time because the days are evil. If we suffer, remind us that we are sharing in suffering as a good soldier of Christ. May we live and love in His name, amen.