Heaven And Hope
Sermon
Ashes To Ascension
Second Lesson Sermons For Lent/Easter
The theme of 1 John all along has been the love of God. The author now expands that love in the phrase, "the children of God," and for the first time he considers what it means to be the children of God. Earlier, he presented love within the fellowship and now he speaks of the meaning of God's love for us and its implications for the future. The consequences and proof of the love of God are evident in being called "the children of God." He is careful to point out that the love of God is a gift; we do not earn it.
Our text in verses 2 and 3 reflects both the certainty and the sobriety of Christian expectation with regard to the conditions of life to come, as well as its moral implications. The moral and ethical implications of being the children of God are reflected in John's words in 2:6, we "ought to walk just as he walked."
One scholar has pointed out that the uncertainty implied by our not knowing what we shall be (v. 2) is more than offset by the assurance that we are already "now" the children of God (D. Moody Smith, Interpretation Commentary, 1-2-3 John, p. 77f). John asserts that it is safe to assume that we shall be something better rather than worse. Even in the face of uncertainty ("what we will be has not yet been revealed"), the believer is in a state of hopeful expectation, for "we shall see him as he is." The question is: Have Christians seen Jesus as he is? The disciples saw the earthly Jesus, this is possibly true for John, but they really never saw Jesus as he was or is (Smith, ibid., p. 78). Their post-resurrection knowledge of him revealed how little they really knew him. Most believers have not seen Jesus at all (John 20:29). The promise to "see him as he is" is both relevant and hopeful, especially when accompanied by the assurance that "we shall be like him." In a sense, verse 3 is a reaffirming of Jesus' promise to his disciples in John 17:24, that they will be with him in heaven to witness to the glory that Jesus had prior to creation. There are two themes that stand out quite clearly in our text: Heaven and Hope.
What Will Heaven Be Like?
How many times have you been asked or asked yourself, "What will heaven be like?" For centuries Christians have sought to answer that question, especially after the death of a spouse, a family member, or a loved one. After all of our inquiry, what do we really know about heaven, and does it really matter? We stand week after week and affirm, "I believe in the resurrection of the body and life everlasting." What do you think about as you repeat those words? Do you repeat them with the conviction that you know there is a real heaven to which you are headed? Much of the Church's evangelism is based on this very assumption, when unbelievers are asked, "If you die this very day, do you know you will go to heaven?" Do you repeat this part of the creed with firm conviction that there is a real heaven, or do you go along with this part of the creed although it is not really that important to your theology or faith?
David H. C. Read has pointed out that there is a popular notion that the Bible is a book about heaven and the Christian, who is headed in that direction, can find a great deal of detail in the scriptures regarding heaven's nature and character. If you turn to the Bible for information regarding the next world, you will be disappointed (David H. C. Read, Expository Times, September 1978, p. 370). Jesus took it for granted that we are headed for new life beyond the grave, yet he discouraged any inquisitiveness regarding its nature. To talk about the furniture of heaven or the temperature of hell is mere speculation. The best that the apostle Paul could do was to come up with the thought that we would have a "spiritual body" (1 Corinthians 15). This sounds like a contradiction in terms, but it is actually a shield against crude ideas of our present physical bodies being reconstituted in a future life.
Here in 1 John the author is writing to a Christian congregation which is as diverse in saintliness and sinfulness as our congregations, but they are united in their commitment to Jesus Christ. He reminds the congregation, "We are the children of God now," (v. 2a) and God does not let his children drift into oblivion when the body dies. On numerous occasions Jesus reminded his disciples that God is God, not of the dead, but of the living -- for in him all are in fact alive, "Because I live, you also will live" (John 14:19b). We know nothing about heaven, except for these words of John: "What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is" (v. 2b). In these words there is no hesitancy, no agnosticism, no doubt or perhaps, but we know "we will be like him." The truth that emerges is "that heaven is to be thought of in terms of our growth into the image of God in the likeness of Jesus Christ -- in his delight in the Father's glory, his overflowing love for every creature, his joy of human companionship, his sense of beauty and mystery, his passion for justice, his vision for peace, and above all his purity of heart" (Read, ibid.). It is the pure of heart who shall see God -- that is what heaven is like.
Purified By Hope
John points out in verse 4, "And all who have this hope in him purify themselves." Those who enter into this hope seek to be pure, as Christ is pure. In other words, this conviction about heaven should be a moral power in our lives right now. It is this hope that sets the whole course of our lives. This hope purifies. It is a hope that brings a sense of direction for an ambiguous future. There are many things these Christians do not understand, but they do know "that when Christ is revealed, they will be like him, for they shall see him as he is." This hope purifies against hopelessness and despair.
This hope was important for first century Christians, because there was so little of it in the world around them. As the Christians in the first two centuries began to leave the Jewish community and venture into the Gentile world, it was a bleak world indeed. It was a world that was deeply influenced by the Stoics and the Greek gods. History for the Gentiles was cyclical -- constantly repeating itself in the same harsh and cruel events. The future in such a world was bleak and hopeless. It was a superstitious world controlled by blind fate. The vices of the gods became the virtues of men and women pulling society down to the depths of human despair and immorality. The apostle Paul gives an accurate account of the Gentile world in Ephesians 2:12: "Remember that you were at that time without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers to the covenant of promise, having no hope and without Christ in the world."
What a contrast the text is in regard to the world in which these first-century Christians were living. John's words in 3:1 reminded them that they were "called children of God," giving them a sense of destiny and hope. For these early Christians living in a dark and superstitious world controlled by a blind fate, these words provided direction and purpose. Not only were they called to be the children of God, but the time would come when their Lord would be revealed and they would see him as he is. This provided for them a sense of history that was both optimistic and hopeful. History was important to these Christians because God had chosen them to be his children. Life was meaningful and purposeful because it was based on the promise of God. They felt themselves to be a people of destiny and direction. Therefore, this hope purified them from the despair and superstition that was so prevalent in the world around them.
The hope of heaven is a purifying hope for us as well. For us it is a symbol of the consummated reign of God bringing everlasting life in the depth of fellowship with God through Jesus Christ. Eternal life is unbroken and unending communion, the sharing of life with others in the God whose being is in community. We need to recognize the fact that the biblical images of eternal life are profoundly communal -- expressed as the kingdom of God, the great banquet, the new Jerusalem coming down from heaven. Eternal life is no endless extension of the existence of isolated selves, no perpetuation of individualism and infinity. "Eternal life means the unending participation in God's eternal community of love. Such life in communion with others is not the loss but the fulfillment of personal identity in relationship with God and others" (Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding, p. 246). This purifying hope of the everlasting life of God is inexhaustibly rich. We will never be bored by it or ever feel that we have gotten to the bottom of it. In everlasting praise of God there will be new surprises and adventures as God's gift of life and love goes on unfolding itself boundlessly.
Our hope is grounded in the reality of God who transcends death and in whose love we continue to know and be known. It is this hope that purifies us against despair and futility. James L. Kidd tells the story about the time that his mother-in-law died, and his wife had a wonderful dream. Her father and their oldest son had died a few years before, and when her mother arrived in heaven she found them playing a game of chess as they often did when alive. She stood beside them, but at first they ignored her because they were so engrossed in their game. Her son Bruce, who still appeared to be thirteen, noticed his grandmother. So he set aside the chess board, pulled out a deck of cards, and dealt her in. Kidd concluded by saying that our hope is that when this life is over we have "a building of God not made with hands that is eternal in the heavens," and when we get there, someone will deal us in.
How many times we are called to face the unknown. It could be a new job, a marriage, a bereavement, or a very difficult decision. It is then that we desire the presence of someone we love and trust. But there are times, and death is one, when no human companion can go with us. It is the presence of Christ and his promise "where I am there you will be also" that provides for us the hope and the courage for the journey.
Our text in verses 2 and 3 reflects both the certainty and the sobriety of Christian expectation with regard to the conditions of life to come, as well as its moral implications. The moral and ethical implications of being the children of God are reflected in John's words in 2:6, we "ought to walk just as he walked."
One scholar has pointed out that the uncertainty implied by our not knowing what we shall be (v. 2) is more than offset by the assurance that we are already "now" the children of God (D. Moody Smith, Interpretation Commentary, 1-2-3 John, p. 77f). John asserts that it is safe to assume that we shall be something better rather than worse. Even in the face of uncertainty ("what we will be has not yet been revealed"), the believer is in a state of hopeful expectation, for "we shall see him as he is." The question is: Have Christians seen Jesus as he is? The disciples saw the earthly Jesus, this is possibly true for John, but they really never saw Jesus as he was or is (Smith, ibid., p. 78). Their post-resurrection knowledge of him revealed how little they really knew him. Most believers have not seen Jesus at all (John 20:29). The promise to "see him as he is" is both relevant and hopeful, especially when accompanied by the assurance that "we shall be like him." In a sense, verse 3 is a reaffirming of Jesus' promise to his disciples in John 17:24, that they will be with him in heaven to witness to the glory that Jesus had prior to creation. There are two themes that stand out quite clearly in our text: Heaven and Hope.
What Will Heaven Be Like?
How many times have you been asked or asked yourself, "What will heaven be like?" For centuries Christians have sought to answer that question, especially after the death of a spouse, a family member, or a loved one. After all of our inquiry, what do we really know about heaven, and does it really matter? We stand week after week and affirm, "I believe in the resurrection of the body and life everlasting." What do you think about as you repeat those words? Do you repeat them with the conviction that you know there is a real heaven to which you are headed? Much of the Church's evangelism is based on this very assumption, when unbelievers are asked, "If you die this very day, do you know you will go to heaven?" Do you repeat this part of the creed with firm conviction that there is a real heaven, or do you go along with this part of the creed although it is not really that important to your theology or faith?
David H. C. Read has pointed out that there is a popular notion that the Bible is a book about heaven and the Christian, who is headed in that direction, can find a great deal of detail in the scriptures regarding heaven's nature and character. If you turn to the Bible for information regarding the next world, you will be disappointed (David H. C. Read, Expository Times, September 1978, p. 370). Jesus took it for granted that we are headed for new life beyond the grave, yet he discouraged any inquisitiveness regarding its nature. To talk about the furniture of heaven or the temperature of hell is mere speculation. The best that the apostle Paul could do was to come up with the thought that we would have a "spiritual body" (1 Corinthians 15). This sounds like a contradiction in terms, but it is actually a shield against crude ideas of our present physical bodies being reconstituted in a future life.
Here in 1 John the author is writing to a Christian congregation which is as diverse in saintliness and sinfulness as our congregations, but they are united in their commitment to Jesus Christ. He reminds the congregation, "We are the children of God now," (v. 2a) and God does not let his children drift into oblivion when the body dies. On numerous occasions Jesus reminded his disciples that God is God, not of the dead, but of the living -- for in him all are in fact alive, "Because I live, you also will live" (John 14:19b). We know nothing about heaven, except for these words of John: "What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is" (v. 2b). In these words there is no hesitancy, no agnosticism, no doubt or perhaps, but we know "we will be like him." The truth that emerges is "that heaven is to be thought of in terms of our growth into the image of God in the likeness of Jesus Christ -- in his delight in the Father's glory, his overflowing love for every creature, his joy of human companionship, his sense of beauty and mystery, his passion for justice, his vision for peace, and above all his purity of heart" (Read, ibid.). It is the pure of heart who shall see God -- that is what heaven is like.
Purified By Hope
John points out in verse 4, "And all who have this hope in him purify themselves." Those who enter into this hope seek to be pure, as Christ is pure. In other words, this conviction about heaven should be a moral power in our lives right now. It is this hope that sets the whole course of our lives. This hope purifies. It is a hope that brings a sense of direction for an ambiguous future. There are many things these Christians do not understand, but they do know "that when Christ is revealed, they will be like him, for they shall see him as he is." This hope purifies against hopelessness and despair.
This hope was important for first century Christians, because there was so little of it in the world around them. As the Christians in the first two centuries began to leave the Jewish community and venture into the Gentile world, it was a bleak world indeed. It was a world that was deeply influenced by the Stoics and the Greek gods. History for the Gentiles was cyclical -- constantly repeating itself in the same harsh and cruel events. The future in such a world was bleak and hopeless. It was a superstitious world controlled by blind fate. The vices of the gods became the virtues of men and women pulling society down to the depths of human despair and immorality. The apostle Paul gives an accurate account of the Gentile world in Ephesians 2:12: "Remember that you were at that time without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers to the covenant of promise, having no hope and without Christ in the world."
What a contrast the text is in regard to the world in which these first-century Christians were living. John's words in 3:1 reminded them that they were "called children of God," giving them a sense of destiny and hope. For these early Christians living in a dark and superstitious world controlled by a blind fate, these words provided direction and purpose. Not only were they called to be the children of God, but the time would come when their Lord would be revealed and they would see him as he is. This provided for them a sense of history that was both optimistic and hopeful. History was important to these Christians because God had chosen them to be his children. Life was meaningful and purposeful because it was based on the promise of God. They felt themselves to be a people of destiny and direction. Therefore, this hope purified them from the despair and superstition that was so prevalent in the world around them.
The hope of heaven is a purifying hope for us as well. For us it is a symbol of the consummated reign of God bringing everlasting life in the depth of fellowship with God through Jesus Christ. Eternal life is unbroken and unending communion, the sharing of life with others in the God whose being is in community. We need to recognize the fact that the biblical images of eternal life are profoundly communal -- expressed as the kingdom of God, the great banquet, the new Jerusalem coming down from heaven. Eternal life is no endless extension of the existence of isolated selves, no perpetuation of individualism and infinity. "Eternal life means the unending participation in God's eternal community of love. Such life in communion with others is not the loss but the fulfillment of personal identity in relationship with God and others" (Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding, p. 246). This purifying hope of the everlasting life of God is inexhaustibly rich. We will never be bored by it or ever feel that we have gotten to the bottom of it. In everlasting praise of God there will be new surprises and adventures as God's gift of life and love goes on unfolding itself boundlessly.
Our hope is grounded in the reality of God who transcends death and in whose love we continue to know and be known. It is this hope that purifies us against despair and futility. James L. Kidd tells the story about the time that his mother-in-law died, and his wife had a wonderful dream. Her father and their oldest son had died a few years before, and when her mother arrived in heaven she found them playing a game of chess as they often did when alive. She stood beside them, but at first they ignored her because they were so engrossed in their game. Her son Bruce, who still appeared to be thirteen, noticed his grandmother. So he set aside the chess board, pulled out a deck of cards, and dealt her in. Kidd concluded by saying that our hope is that when this life is over we have "a building of God not made with hands that is eternal in the heavens," and when we get there, someone will deal us in.
How many times we are called to face the unknown. It could be a new job, a marriage, a bereavement, or a very difficult decision. It is then that we desire the presence of someone we love and trust. But there are times, and death is one, when no human companion can go with us. It is the presence of Christ and his promise "where I am there you will be also" that provides for us the hope and the courage for the journey.
