What Will Be!

One of the devotional tools I use is Scripture Union's Encounter with God, a daily reading in a portion of Scripture with commentary, prayer, and application. Beginning in May, we entered a segment in the Book of Revelation. In Scripture Union's introduction to this study, they made an interesting observation:

Most of us are not familiar with the conventions of apocalyptic writing, but it is clear that the first followers of Jesus were quite at home with it: note the puzzled response of the disciples when Jesus used parables (Matthew 13:10), yet their happy acceptance of His apocalyptic teaching (Matthew 24:1-44)!

Could that be the result of cultural differences? The disciples were Jews with laws and traditions governing every aspect of their lives, ceremonies and moral regulations meant to draw their minds and hearts to the God who was their very Author. They acknowledged that their future, in every facet of life rested in His hands. Maybe their fondness for all things apocalyptic was chronological. They were discovering their long-awaited Messiah. What would He do? What would this new era bring? And parables? They might resonate more with us because of our perspective: we have more technical insight, more historical context. Perhaps the difference was spiritual. Were the disciples more comfortable in the spirit world: faith, hope, things unseen? 

Why are we so inclined toward object lessons, relatable stories? Because we can see them or experience them for ourselves? Why are we less inclined toward that which is to come? As a society, we don't talk so much about "what will be," at least not the things out of our control. Climate change is all about controlling outcomes; we'll talk about that all day long-- but the weather? Even we are skeptical when we check the local forecast --so much so that we tend to take it with a grain of salt and focus instead on our back-up plan. Death and illness: we've got a hundred different types of insurance, prepaid funeral expenses, long-term care facilities. But how often do we slam the door when someone starts talking what happens after we die? Even the heroin and fentanyl epidemic that exists minutes from most of our front doors is all about controlling things that feel out of control. The sad irony is, those trying to escape that which they feel is out of their control immerse themselves in a world that is out of their control, morbidly so. But let's not talk about that.

Maybe we don't talk about things to come because we are too satisfied with what we have. Maybe we are so embedded in the lives we lead now, the breaths we take each day on this earth, that we aren't compelled to look for something better. We have a great family and lots of friends. We've just returned from the perfect vacation. We're helping and serving others. This is all there is: make the most of it!

Maybe the opposite is true: maybe we have lost our hope. Why hope when nothing good can come of it? Without faith in the existence of a benevolent and knowable God, how can we have faith for anything else? How can we find comfort --or at the least, curiosity-- in talking about things to come? When our hope is Jesus, we have a sure foundation; when our hope is settled on that which we see, it's not much hope at all.

As usual, I'm not speaking as someone who has all things mastered. In fact, the opposite is true. When I read my devotional this morning, I was convicted by my lack of interest in what happens next. I was convicted by the infrequency with which I fix my eyes on the glory to come. I was convicted by how deeply I bury myself in the day's affairs rather than revel in the baptism of a Spirit so close I can see things with eternal eyes. I hope you will join with me in examining our perspective, repenting of our short-sightedness and dependence upon the natural, and experiencing all that has been done, is being made new, and will in God's timing be!