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Faith Values the Greater Reward from God, part 3 (Hebrews 11:23-28)

We are talking about the faith of Moses, a faith that allowed him to give up a position of privilege and power, where he could have every pleasure and treasure his heart desired, opting instead for the yet unseen, but definitely real, “greater wealth” of the heavenly reward. Like the patriarchs before him, he didn’t experience the greater treasures and pleasures in this life, but in the life to come, in the heavenly city (Heb. 11:13-16).

So turn with me again to Hebrews 11:24-28…

24 By faith Moses, when he was grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, 25 choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin. 26 He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward. 27 By faith he left Egypt, not being afraid of the anger of the king, for he endured as seeing him who is invisible. 28 By faith he kept the Passover and sprinkled the blood, so that the Destroyer of the firstborn might not touch them.

We noticed last week Mose’s negative choice of “refusing to be called the son of Pharoah’s daughter.” Today we will talk about his positive choice in verse 25, “choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin.”

By the way, this was a permanent decision. Warren Wiersbe tells the story about the mayor of a large American city who moved into a dangerous and decayed housing project to demonstrate the problems and needs of the minorities. But she also kept her fashionable apartment and eventually moved out of the slum. He concludes, “We commend her for her courage, but we have to admire Moses even more. He left the palace and never went back” (The Wiersbe Bible Commentary: New Testament, p. 836)

So Moses chose to be mistreated rather than enjoy the pleasures of sin.

Let’s see, pain or pleasure, which shall I choose? Few of us would willingly choose pain over pleasure, but Moses did. Moses chose the pain of mistreatment rather than the pleasures of sin.

Ultimately Moses’ potential sin, had he chosen these “fleeting pleasures” would have been to abandon his faith in God as he became more and more immersed in the mindset of godless Egypt, much like Solomon’s heart was turned aside from God because of his pagan wives. There was constant exposure and then pressure there to engage with the world’s system and pleasures, which could have turned his heart against the God of his fathers.

Moses knew that to go God’s way meant persecution and pain “with the people of God.” It is fascinating that in the next verse our author shows that Moses thought of this as “the reproach of Christ.” Somehow he connected his own sufferings to the sufferings that Jesus Christ would experience in his humiliation. Maybe this was an unconscious connection on his part but the author shows that it is a real connection that any saint has with Jesus Christ when we suffer for his sake. It is very similar to what Paul talked about in Philippians 3 when he says, “that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death…” (Phil. 3:10).

Paul wanted to know Christ, not just intellectually, but experientially. Because Christ was no longer alive and walking about on earth Paul didn’t have that firsthand interaction with Jesus. Nevertheless, Paul had experienced and wanted to experience more, “the power of his resurrection,” but Paul knew that to experience resurrection he had to go through death, so he longed, strangely enough to our ears, to “share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death.”

Paul Miller discusses this fascinating idea in his book J-Curve. The J-Curve is Jesus dying and rising. Of course, positionally we die to sin and rise to God (Rom. 6) because we are united to Jesus by faith. Also, we will one day die physically and ultimately we will rise physically.

But Paul Miller also shows that we can experience the J-Curve through suffering, repentance and love. In suffering, we die to something. It can be our health, a marriage, a loss of a loved one. But if we perceive it as suffering “with Christ,” it turns what is wholly negative into something positive (an experience of deep fellowship and ultimately resurrection). So see your suffering as “with Christ,” as engaging in His sufferings, and then expect and look for mini-resurrections.

The J-Curve also happens through repentance. Here the evil is not outside us, perpetrated against us, but inside us. We acknowledge that something needs to die, some sinful desire that we have, but when we give up that sin and experience fellowship with Jesus, we will experience the resurrection of joy and holiness and love.

Love is another J-Curve. In this case we die to ourselves, our agenda, our pleasures, so that we can meet the needs of someone else. We “put to death” some desire we have for our own pleasure, so that we can meet the needs or desires of someone else. The result? That relationship gets better and better!

This is what Moses was doing. He didn’t know Jesus fully yet, but He knew God well enough to know that if he gave up the “fleeting pleasures” of sin for His sake, then something immensely more satisfying would be his in the future.

Disgrace suffered for Christ’s sake Moses valued as priceless honor. Yes, Moses knew about Christ. He himself said so in Dt 18:15 when he urged Israel to look for and listen to that greater Prophet who was coming. Jesus also said so when he told the Pharisees in Jn 5:46, “Moses wrote about me” with the eye of faith Moses saw the coming Christ and identified with him by joining his people. (Richard E. Lauersdorf, The People’s Bible: Hebrews, 143)

Notice how Moses viewed these pleasures, and it may shock us into realizing how we need to view our own worldly pleasures. First of all, they are the “pleasures of sin” that we “enjoy.” We sin because we enjoy it. We sin because it is a pleasure. So let’s not deny that sin can be a pleasure. That is the only way Satan can tempt us. If it were a pain, we would avoid it. If we got shocked every time we sinned, we would stop sinning.

But again, a shock is like Ulysses being tied to the mast. It may stop us from sinning, but we still want to, we still long to. We would just seek ways to get what we want without being shocked, like the addict who hides his addiction so that no one can see him and rebuke him.

John Piper recognizes the danger in the pleasures of sin, saying, “The greatest adversary of love to God is not his enemies but his gifts. And the most deadly appetites are not for the poison of evil, but for the simple pleasures of earth. For when these replace an appetite for God himself, the idolatry is scarcely recognizable, and almost incurable. (John Piper, A Hunger for God: Desiring God Through Fasting and Prayer, 14)

Disobeying had many attractions. Among other things, it would have been a lot easier and a lot more enjoyable in the short run. It is hard enough to stop seeking worldly things. It is even harder to give them up once we have them, and Moses had a great many of them by the time he was forty. We have no reason to believe that he was ever involved in any immoral practices, but he enjoyed the pleasures of an extremely comfortable life. He had the best food, the best living quarters, the best recreation, the best of everything that his age could provide. These were not sins in themselves. Joseph had enjoyed the same pleasures in the same place, while being perfectly obedient to God. But they would have been sin for Moses, had he decided to stay in the Egyptian court, and he forsook them for the sake of God’s call. (John MacArthur Jr., The MacArthur NT Commentary: Hebrews, 352)

Second, notice that these pleasures are “fleeting,” or some versions say “passing.” They are temporary. They don’t last. You’ve experienced that. You gave yourself to some illicit pleasure when you were all alone in the dark and it felt good…for a moment, for a brief moment. Then, if you are fortunate, you began to feel guilty. This is not the repressed conscience bequeathed to us by the Puritans, but rather is the precious gift of God.

The point is, Moses knew that these pleasures were real pleasures that could be enjoyed, but that they were also “fleeting.” God’s reward is permanent, not passing; it is forever, not fleeting.

Remember that next time you are tempted. Remind yourself: “I’ll feel good for a moment or two, but it won’t last.” Then tell yourself that God’s way offers a better, more lasting reward.

As a family member in Pharaoh’s court, Moses enjoyed whatever pleasures anyone could seek. He lived in luxury (picture the splendor of King Tut’s tomb!). He ate the best food available. He dressed in the finest clothes. He could have any Egyptian beauty his heart desired.

Yet because he believed in a better reward—pleasures and treasures that were bigger and better than anything Egypt (or the whole world) could offer—he said “no.” He chose rather to become an object of scorn and contempt along with the people of God.

Why? Because by faith he believed in a better reward awaiting him. Why would a man knowingly choose such suffering? Was he a masochist? Was he insane? No, actually he was quite shrewd. Like the man who sold everything he had to buy the pearl of great price (Matt. 13:45-46), Moses gained something better.

The “treasures of Egypt” were something that many coveted. Discoveries such as the tomb of King Tutankhamen, who lived only a hundred or so years after Moses, have shown us how vastly rich Egypt was at its peak. Moses had access to a great deal of wealth, and likely had much in his own possession. He had all the things the world holds dear. He must have been strongly tempted to hold on to them; but he did not. (John MacArthur Jr., The MacArthur NT Commentary: Hebrews, 353)

Moses shows us that men are known by their choices. We make our choices and then our choices make us. John MacArthur says, “Christian living involves making right decisions. You can note the maturity of a Christian by the decisions he makes. Holiness is making right decisions, carnality is making wrong ones. Our Christian living rises or falls in maturity and holiness on the basis of the decisions we make. When Satan tempts us, we decide either to say yes or no. When we have opportunity to witness, we either take advantage of it or we do not. We decide whether or not to take time to read the Bible and to pray. It is not a matter of having time but of taking time, and taking time requires a decision. In business we often have to choose between making more money and being honest and ethical, or between getting ahead and giving enough time to our families and to the Lord’s work. Virtually everything we do involves a decision” (John MacArthur Jr., The MacArthur NT Commentary: Hebrews, 346). He goes on to say, “Right choices are made on the basis of right faith. Often we cannot see the consequences of our choices. Satan tries to make his way seem attractive and good and God’s way seem hard and unenjoyable. When we know God’s will in a matter, we choose it by faith. We know it is the right choice because it is God’s will, even before we see the results. God’s will is the only reason we need. When we choose God’s way, we put up the shield of faith, and the temptations and allurements of Satan are deflected (Eph 6:16). . . . The opposite of choosing God’s way is always Satan’s way, and not believing God is believing Satan. Whenever we sin, we believe Satan; we believe that his way is better than God’s. We believe the father of lies above the Father of truth” (John MacArthur Jr., The MacArthur NT Commentary: Hebrews, 347)

From the worldly standpoint, he was sacrificing everything for nothing. But from the spiritual standpoint, he was sacrificing nothing for everything. (John MacArthur Jr., The MacArthur NT Commentary: Hebrews, 350). Or, as Jim Eliot said, the missionary martyred by the Waorani Indians of Ecuador in 1954, “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.”

God has designed this Christian life so that we would be motivated by rewards. The emphasis in the Epistle to the Hebrews is: ‘Don’t live for what the world will promise you today! Live for what God has promised you in the future!

People at Grace Bible Church have heard me quote this statement from C. S. Lewis often:

If there lurks in most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and earnestly to hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, I submit that this notion has crept in from Kant and the Stoics and is no part of the Christian faith. Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.

We must not be troubled by unbelievers when they say that this promise of reward makes the Christian life a mercenary affair. There are different kinds of reward. There is the reward which has no natural connection with the things you do to earn it, and is quite foreign to the desires that ought to accompany those things. Money is not the natural reward of love; that is why we call a man mercenary if he marries a woman for the sake of her money. But marriage is the proper reward for a real lover, and he is not mercenary for desiring it. A general who fights well in order to get a peerage is mercenary; a general who fights for victory is not, victory being the proper reward of battle as marriage is the proper reward of love. The proper rewards are not simply tacked on to the activity for which they are given, but are the activity itself in consummation. (C. S. Lewis; THE WEIGHT OF GLORY; Preached originally as a sermon in the Church of St. Mary the Virgin, Oxford ‘, on June 8, 1941)

Moses knew that all the pleasures of Egyptian nobility would last only a short season, if he became ruler of Egypt himself. But the reward of God, on the other hand, he believed to be eternal. So it was a matter of trading the temporary for the eternal. To him, the shame of being identified with the coming Messiah (Christ), was greater wealth than all the treasures of Egypt.

What were some of the blessings that Moses traded the “treasures of Egypt” and the “pleasures of sin” for? Well, first of all, the company of God’s people. Moses chose “to be mistreated with the people of God.” Admittedly, they were not much to look at. At the moment they were sweaty, dirty, poor slaves. Certainly not the “in” crowd. Later, these would be the very people that would give him a lot of trouble, grumbling about the conditions that he led them into. Some would challenge his leadership. Eventually their grumbling frustrated Moses so much that he sinned by striking the rock in anger, so that the Lord kept him from entering the promised land. But in spite of all the problems he experienced with them, they were “people of God.” Moses saw it as a far greater blessing to endure ill-treatment with them than to live in the worldly, superficial society of Pharaoh’s court.

Sometimes the “people of God” are not easy to live with, but Christian community really is a blessing. Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote in his little book Life Together, written during the early days of the Nazi regime in Germany: “It is by the grace of God that a congregation is permitted to gather visibly in this world to share God’s Word and sacrament. Not all Christians receive this blessing. The imprisoned, the sick, the scattered lonely, the proclaimers of the Gospel in heathen lands stand alone. They know that visible fellowship is a blessing. They remember, as the Psalmist did, how they went ‘with the multitude . . . to the house of God, with the voice of joy and praise, with a multitude that kept holyday’ (Ps. 42:4). Let him, who until now has had the privilege of living in common Christian life with other Christians praise God’s grace from the bottom of his heart. Let him thank God on his knees and declare: it is grace, nothing but grace, that we’re allowed to live in Christian community with Christian brethren.”

Second, as we’ve already mentioned, Moses participated in “the reproach of Christ.” He was able to experience, through his reproach, the reproach of Christ; through his sufferings, the sufferings of Christ. It allowed him to rejoice in a deeper experience of Jesus Christ.

Finally, he would gain eternal reward in heaven. Like the patriarchs, Moses looked ahead, looked to eternity. The reward that he looked for was, “the better country, that is, a heavenly one” (11:16). When Moses appeared on the Mount of Transfiguration with Elijah and Jesus, it was his first time to set foot in the promised land. But I have a hunch that he was thinking, “OK, this is nice, really, but when you do think we could get back to heaven?”

And he did it all by faith. He made these choices because he believed in God’s promises of something better ahead.

Faith Values the Greater Reward from God, part 2 (Hebrews 11:23-28)

Thank you for joining me today in our study of this great epistle, or better put “sermon of exhortation,” which we call Hebrews. We started last week discussing Moses as an exemplar of faith. In particular, we looked at Hebrews 11:23 which spoke of the faith of Moses’ parents.

Today we will begin looking at Moses’ own faith in Hebrews 11:24-28.

Moses expressed faith in a greater reward, which allowed him to turn his back on the privileges of being high up in Egyptian society (“called the son of Pharoah’s daughter”) and choosing to eschew the “fleeting pleasures of sin.” Why? Because he was “looking to the reward.” Moses willingly chose mistreatment and the reproach of Christ because he wanted to, because he longed for the reward that was “greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt.”

Faith is what allowed him to do that. Faith allowed him to see something that was invisible, to long for something that was yet future (cf. Heb. 11:1). His faith in something better and more lasting caused his heart to long for that rather than the pleasures of this life.

What about you? Do you say “no” to sin because you fear the consequences, or because you feel external pressures from family or religious associations? Or do you gladly say “no” to sin because you long to be holy, because you value it as better and greater than the pleasures of sin?

Years ago, and then again just recently, I read this illustration in Sam Storms’ book Pleasures Evermore. What Sam was doing was illustrating the difference between saying “no” to sin because we have to and saying “no” to sin because we want to. Or, another way of saying it is saying “no” to sin because of external restraints and saying “no” to sin because our heart is captivated by something better, what Scottish pastor Thomas Chalmers called “the expulsive power of a new affection,” a higher and better desire.

He illustrates with two stories from Greek mythology. Don’t let that put you off, because the principle is actually quite biblical.

The story concerns two men. The first is Odysseus, also known as Ulysses. Ulysses was a devoted husband to his wife, Penelope, adored his son, and agonized at leaving his home of Ithaca. But he was also a Greek, and duty called.

Paris, the prince of Troy, had stolen away Helen, the woman “whose face launched a thousand ships.” She was the wife of Menelaus, the King of Greece. He, together with his brother Agamemnon, Ulysses, and a mighty Greek army undertook the daunting task of recapturing her and restoring dignity to their beloved land.

To make a long story short, hidden in the belly of a huge Trojan horse, Ulysses and his men gained access to the city, slaughtered its inhabitants, and rescued the captive Helen. But the return voyage to Ithaca, which lasted nearly a decade, would prove to be far more challenging.

People are intrigued by Ulysses’ encounter with the witch Circe and his careful navigation between the treacherous Scylla and Charybdis. And who can forget his blinding of the Cyclops Polyphemus, son of Poseidon, god of the seas?

My fascination, however, has always been with the infamous Sirens. The Sirens were, for lack of a better way of describing them, demonic cannibals who disguised themselves as beautiful women. Countless were the unwitting sailors who, on passing by their island, succumbed to the outward beauty of the Sirens and their seductively irresistible songs. Once lured close to shore, their boats crashed on the hidden rocks lurking beneath the surface of the sea. The Sirens wasted little time in savagely consuming their flesh.

Ulysses had been repeatedly warned about the Sirens and their lethal hypocrisy. Upon reaching their island, he ordered his crew to put wax in their ears lest they be lured to their ultimate demise. He commanded them to look neither to the left nor right but to row for their very lives. Ulysses had other plans for himself. He instructed his men to strap him to the mast of the ship, leaving his ears unplugged. “I want to hear their song. No matter what I say or do, don’t untie me until we are safely at a distance from the island.”

The songs of the Sirens were more than Ulysses’ otherwise strong will could resist. He was utterly seduced by their sound and mesmerized by the promise of immediate gratification. One Siren even took on the form of Penelope, Ulysses’ wife, seeking to lure him closer on the delusion that he had finally arrived home. Were it not for the ropes that held him tightly to the mast, Ulysses would have succumbed to their invitation. Although his hands were restrained, his heart was captivated by their beauty. Although his soul said “Yes”, the ropes prevented his indulgence. His “No” was not the fruit of a spontaneous revulsion but the product of an external shackle.

Ulysses’ encounter with the Sirens, together with his strategy for resisting their appeal, is all too similar to the way many Christians try to live as followers of Jesus Christ. Like him, their hearts pant for what Hebrews 11:25 refers to as “the fleeting pleasures of sin.” Their wills are no match for the magnetic power of sensual indulgence. Although they understand what is at stake, they struggle through life saying No to sin, not because their souls are ill-disposed to evil but because their hands have been shackled by the laws and rules imposed by an oppressive religious atmosphere. It is the extra-biblical taboo that comes thundering from a legalistic pulpit or a long-standing denominational prohibition that accounts for their external complicity. Their obedience is not the glad product of a transformed nature but a reluctant conformity born of fear and shame.

I have no desire to live that way. Neither do you, I suspect. So, is your “obedience” the expression of your deepest heart-felt joy? Is it the product of a passion that spontaneously and urgently springs from the depths of your being? Or are you firmly bound to the mast of religious expectations, all the while yearning for the opposite of what you actually do? What is the most effective scheme for confronting the sinful sounds of Sirens?

Jason, like Ulysses, was himself a character of ancient mythology, perhaps best known for his pursuit of the famous Golden Fleece. Again, like Ulysses, he faced the temptation posed by the seductive sounds of the Sirens. But his solution was of a different sort. Jason brought with him on the treacherous journey a man named Orpheus, the son of Oeager. Orpheus was a musician of incomparable talent, especially on the lyre and flute. When his music filled the air it had an enchanting effect on all who heard. There was not a lovelier or more melodious sound in all the ancient world.

When it came time, Jason declined to plug the ears of his crew. Neither did he strap himself to the mast to restrain his otherwise lustful yearning for whatever pleasures the Sirens might offer. But this was not the reckless decision of an arrogant heart. Jason had no illusions about the strength of his will or his capacity to be deceived. He was no less determined than Ulysses to resist the temptations of the Sirens. But he chose a different strategy.

He ordered Orpheus to play his most beautiful and alluring songs. The Sirens didn’t stand a chance! Notwithstanding their collective allure, Jason and his men paid no heed to the Sirens. They were not in the least inclined to succumb. Why? Was it that the Sirens had ceased to sing? Was it that they had lost their capacity to entice the human heart? Not at all.

Jason and his men said No because they were captivated by a transcendent sound. The music of Orpheus was of an altogether different and exalted nature. Jason and his men said No to the sounds of the Sirens because they had heard something far more sublime. They had tasted something far sweeter. They had encountered something far more noble.

Here’s my point. Ulysses may have survived the sounds of Sirens. But only Jason triumphed over them. Yes, both men “obeyed” (in a manner of speaking). Neither succumbed. Neither indulged his desires. Both men escaped the danger at hand. But only one was changed.

The vice-grip the pleasure of sin exerts on the human soul will be broken only by trusting God’s promise of superior pleasure in knowing Jesus. The only way to conquer one pleasure is with another, greater and more pleasing pleasure. Whether it’s the sound of Sirens in ancient mythology or the all-too-real appeal of contemporary society, the principle is the same. Our only hope is in maximizing our pleasure in God.

These are the options. Like Ulysses, you can continue to fight against the restrictive influence of religious ropes and the binding power of fear, reprisal, and guilt, while your heart persists in yearning for what your hand is denied, or, like Jason, you can shout a spontaneous and heartfelt “No!” to the sounds of Sirens because you’ve heard a sweeter sound! Either you devote your time and energy to demonstrate the ugliness and futility of sin and the world, hoping that such will enable your heart to say No to it as unworthy of your affection, or you demonstrate the beauty and splendor of all that God is for you in Jesus and become happily and joyfully enticed by a rival affection.

So let’s examine how Moses came to make this decision, to say “no” because he could see greater joy and happiness and satisfaction and contentment, even pleasure and treasure, in God’s will and ways, than in the treasures and pleasures of Egypt.

Between verse 23, which speaks of Moses’ birth and his parents’ faith, and verses 24-26, which presents Moses as an adult making a choice to identify with his Jewish ethnicity, forty years have elapsed.

His identification began with a negative choice: “By faith Moses, when he was grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter” (v. 24). First, Moses said “no” to being called “the son of Pharoah’s daughter.” He had a choice and he could have said “yes” to what was a great privilege and something he had been immersed in for 40 years.

Moses was known by the royal designation “son of Pharaoh’s daughter”—a title of self-conscious dignity that is emphasized here in the Greek by the absence of definite articles. A modern equivalent might be Duke of York.

To be such during Egypt’s Nineteenth Dynasty would have meant immense prestige and wealth. Any pleasure that the oriental or occidental mind could conceive of was his for the asking. Like being a sports celebrity today, this could be intoxicating. A man could have anything, or anyone, he asked for.

Such privilege and prestige could be delusional, as Boris Pasternak observed of the Russian aristocracy in Dr. Zhivago when the doctor remarked that wealth “could itself create an illusion of genuine character and originality.”

But Moses suffered no such delusions. Fortunately, although the “son of Pharoah’s daughter,” he had been raised by a godly Jewish mother and had learned the stories about Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Joseph. He had heard about their faith and the courageous decisions they had made. Now he was an adult and it was time to define himself.

So Moses publicly refused the title, which would be a grievous affront and insult to Pharoah. Kent Hughes says, “True faith will announce its discord whenever God and conscience call for it. Believers can love their culture, and there is much to love in most cultures, but they will refuse to be identified with the godless zeitgeist or spirit of the age.”

The “world,” in Scripture, is one of our three adversaries, along with our own flesh and the devil himself. Of course, we acknowledge that this world was originally created “very good,” but since the Fall creation has been infected with pride, lust, and all manner of ungodliness. The world’s fallen systems have no love for God and in many cases will be decidedly anti-God.

The apostle John told his disciples at Ephesus:

15 Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. 16 For all that is in the world–the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride in possessions–is not from the Father but is from the world. 17 And the world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever.

And James writes in his epistle, “You adulterous people! Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Therefore whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God” (James 4:4).

John MacArthur, in his commentary on Ephesians, writes:

[The “world” is the system] which men are in basic agreement about what is right and wrong, valuable and worthless, important and unimportant. Sinful men have many different ideas and standards, but they are in total agreement that the network of things in this world is more important than the divine perspective of God. In this most basic world outlook they are of one mind. They resolutely work to fulfill the goals and values of their system, though it defies God and always self-destructs. Sinners are persistent in their rejection, and the worse their system becomes, the more they try to justify it and condemn those who speak the Word of God against it.

And pastor Randy Smith says…

The world is the system of every age, the philosophy that opposes the things of God. The world is forever brainwashing, seeking to squeeze people into their mold. If the Bible calls for something, most often the world will be against it. The world will persecute people that oppose its standard. Nobody opposes the world more than Jesus. In biblical times confessing Jesus would put you out of the synagogue. Now confessing Jesus will put you out of the good graces of politics, Hollywood, the press, academia and personal acquaintances.

This almost unconscious, inexorable pull away from God was present in Egypt’s culture as it is in ours today, and as Christ followers we have to be aware of it and fight against it. Moses showed faith when he let God chart his destiny instead of allowing the values of Egypt or raw ambition for Egypt’s values to do it.

And that choice came freely from an imagination, and then a heart, that was captured by a greater vision, a more beautiful song, a more appealing story. That motivated Moses’ heart to choose another course of action rather than going with the flow of culture and “enjoying” the pleasures and treasures of Egypt.

Moses “refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter” so that he could say “yes” to something better and more satisfying. Just like Jesus told his disciples that they must deny themselves, take up their cross and follow Him (Matt. 16:24; Mark 8:34; Luke 14:27). We say “no” to ourselves so that we can say “yes” to Jesus Christ and follow Him.

Moses decision to renounce his relationship to Pharaoh’s daughter was the turning of his back on immeasurable wealth, unending pleasures, and unspeakable power and glory. Who would do that?

Only those who by faith grasp that greater treasures and pleasures, even more abundant power and glory, are available to those who choose Christ. The only way to liberate the heart from servitude to the allure of this world and the passing pleasure of sin is by cultivating a passion for the joy and delight of beholding the beauty of Jesus.

Try to imagine the kind of life that is available to the billionaires of the day and the world leaders of the day. That is what Moses gave up. He surrendered all that pleasure and treasure and power and glory only because he considered “the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward” (Heb. 11:26).

And I hope you will too.

Faith that Holds on for God’s Best, part 2 (Hebrews 11:13-16)

We’ve been talking about this faith that Abraham possessed, a faith that obeyed, endured, anticipated God’s greater reward, upheld in spite of impossibilities and hung on for God’s very best. We noted last week that Abraham realized that God’s promises were not being fulfilled in this life, in Canaan, but in the future, in heaven and instead of living in anxiety and fear, or in bitterness and resentment, he died believing that God would fulfill those promises—in an even better way. We read this in Hebrews 11:13-16.

13 These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. 14 For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. 15 If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. 16 But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.

So why did they go to their graves joyfully anticipating the fulfillment of promises they would never see fulfilled in their lifetime? Because of an all-encompassing perspective that shaped everything else: they “acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth” (v. 13b).

The earth is not my home. This world is not my ultimate destiny. We might sing about that, but Abraham lived that way. Abraham told the inhabitants of Hebron: “I am a sojourner and foreigner among you; give me property among you for a burying place, that I may bury my dead out of my sight” (Gen. 23:4). I am “a sojourner and foreigner.”

When Isaac blessed Jacob he said: “May he give the blessing of Abraham to you and to your offspring with you, that you may take possession of the land of your sojournings that God gave to Abraham!” (Gen. 28:4) This land, Canaan, was “the land of your sojournings.” It wasn’t home.

Then Jacob referred to the “years of my sojourning” to Pharoah in Genesis 47:9. As verse 9 had introduced to us: “By faith he went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise.”

These patriarchs all continued to live by faith to the very end of their lives, and they died believing that God would eventually fulfill His promises to them. They looked forward to possessing a land that God had promised to give them. They did not turn back to what they had left, which might have encouraged them to apostatize. This is how the author of Hebrews wants to encourage his first-century readers, by showing them that, like their forefathers in the faith, they would not receive all the benefits of salvation now, and that they would not be exempt from trials, but that if they hang on, they too will experience the fulfillment of God’s promises to them.

As we’ve seen, the first readers of this epistle were tempted, under the threat of persecution, to go back to their Jewish religion. The implication of our text in its context is that to go back to Judaism would be like Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob going back to settle permanently in Mesopotamia. God had promised them a new country, the land of Canaan. But, being men of faith, they looked beyond that piece of real estate to the heavenly country that God had prepared for them.

These all “died in faith.” They endured to the end even though they did not experience all that God had promised. Under the New Covenant we have been promised and receive so much more, but still not everything that God has promised. Glory awaits us. The redemption of our bodies is still future.

But they didn’t give up and neither should we. They unhesitatingly acknowledged that they were not really at home here. You say, “Of course, it is obvious that they had not yet inherited the land of promise.” It’s not that Canaan was their home and they just didn’t have all of it yet. It’s not that Canaan was their home but they weren’t running the show. Rather, it’s that the entire world system was not their home.

God is saying that they confessed themselves aliens and strangers even while living in the promised land because they realized that it wasn’t the total and best fulfillment of that promise. They “admitted themselves as aliens and strangers on the earth.” They were aliens and strangers while experiencing life as we now know it. They knew that life at its best here in this world is always shadowy and temporary and never really satisfies. Even David, as king, still referred to himself as a “stranger on the earth” (Psalm 119).

Such a declaration reveals something about these folks and the next verse tells us what that is. Hebrews 11:14 begins with the word “for,” telling us that this verse is the reason why they continued to believing in far-off promises and lived as “strangers and exiles,” and that is because “people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland” (Heb. 11:14).

They were looking for a place to call home, but it wasn’t Canaan and it wasn’t Ur.

Do you know what an ex-patriot is? An ex-patriot is someone who has left their “fatherland,” the place of their birth, either willingly or by force. And while he lives as an alien in a foreign country, he longs for his homeland. His joys and affections are set on that place. When Abraham, Isaac and Jacob confessed that they were aliens, it revealed something about their values, what they held most dear. Their affections were riveted on another country—not the one they came from, but the one they knew that were going to.

True, Abraham did send his servant back to the old country to get a bride for Isaac. But he sternly warned him not to take Isaac back there (Gen. 24:6, 8). Jacob fled to the old country for 20 years to escape from Esau’s murderous intentions. But it was never his true homeland. He told Laban, “Send me away, that I may go to my own home and country” (Gen. 30:25).

Why didn’t they go back to Ur? Because the country they were really longing for was not of this world’s order. Hebrews 11:15 says, “If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return.” If, in fact, their hearts had been longing for their “homeland” (Gk. patris refers to a place of one’s fathers). The “if” in this clause is contrary to the fact; that is, it was not true that they wanted to go back to their homeland (second class condition). They were not “thinking” of Ur, even though Ur had the best that this world could offer at that time in history.

The reason is, they had a “desire [for] a better country, that is, a heavenly one” (Heb. 11:16a). And it is this spiritual longing that enabled them to persevere in faith. Faith enabled them to “see” that better place and as a result they thought about it (v. 15) and desired it (v. 16). Faith redirects our affections away from this world and sets our aspirations on a better reward.

When Abraham was just a garden variety pagan, everything in life revolved around Ur—his financial, relational and social life. Even his spiritual life. But when the Voice invaded his life he chose to abandon that life for the next 100 years. In the eyes of the world, it appears that Abram gave up everything for nothing. But from our transformed vantage point (because we “see” by faith), it’s as though we give up nothing for everything.

Why does a gifted young man like Jim Elliot turn his back on worldly success to take the gospel to the Ecuadorian Indians who would take his life? It is because he saw himself as a spiritual ex-patriot! Although he lived here, he longed for there. In his own words he said it best: “He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.”

Or as Jesus said, “For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul?” (Mark 8:36). Randy Alcorn, in his book The Treasure Principle, highlights a truth that I think will bring us all up short. He says, “Many Christians dread the thought of leaving this world. Why? Because so many have stored up their treasures on earth, not in heaven. Each day brings us closer to death. If your treasures are on earth, that means each day brings you closer to losing your treasures” (Randy Alcorn, The Treasure Principle, p. 40).

We tend to look for and expect the “good life” here and now. As Americans, we believe it is our entitlement, our birthright to pursue and experience ultimate happiness here and now. But God hasn’t promised us “the good life” here and now. He has promised us “the best life” in the future. Are you willing to hold out for the “best life” ahead?

I’m not saying that spiritually minded people give no thought for the world, that we become as odd as we possibly can. That is not the muscular Christianity of the Bible, but the distortion of fundamentalism. We are to remain in the world, engaging and addressing the world, but we are not to allow the world’s values to direct our thinking and desiring. It is the heavenly reward that should occupy our thinking and drive our desiring. We don’t live “for” the world—it’s pleasures, advantages and preoccupations. We are “in the world but not of it.” We are not consumed with its benefits.

If you are really a child of Abraham (by faith in Jesus Christ) then listen to how the New Testament describes you:

Peter wrote: “…To those who are elect exiles of the dispersion in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia” (1 Pet. 1:1). Later he says, “And if you call on him as Father who judges impartially according to each one’s deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile” (1 Pet. 1:17). In 1 Peter 2:11 he says, “Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul.”

And Paul, in Colossians 3:1-2 encourages us that our thoughts and desires should be directed to heaven.

1 If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. 2 Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.

Paul tells us in Philippians that “our citizenship [politeuma] is in heaven” (Philippians 3:20). In Ephesians he says, “So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens [sumpolitai] with the saints and members of the household of God” (Ephesians 2:19).

It all boils down to this: One of two dominating influences expresses itself in your life—either affections for heaven or affections for this world; either we are thinking about heaven and heavenly rewards, or we are fixated on this world and its rewards.

None of us can escape this fact. One of two dominating influences drives your decisions, fashions your perspectives, determines the things that are of real importance to you—heaven or this world. How do we know? Well, when the circumstances of life bring you to a fork in the road; when your affection for the world and affection for heaven are at cross purposes—which path will you take—career? Immorality? Materialism? When Jesus and this world diverge, what do you choose? That is how you know where your allegiance and affections lie.

We see this struggle in Psalm 73, where Asaph looks around in this world and sees that the wicked are experiencing the good life. They are healthy, wealthy, influential, without a care in the world. But eventually Asaph enters the temple to worship and there he gains a heavenly, future perspective, one which shows him that the wicked will be destroyed in judgment while he will experience glory. That changes his perspective and moves him to choose God over the “good life.”

Look at the progression in Abraham’s life: First, Abraham was “looking forward” to this city. In 11:14 we find that people like Abraham continually “seek” after this. Then verb 16 becomes even stronger, they “never cease their longing for a better country.” In Hebrews 10:34 this was called “a better and lasting possession.”

This life can be good…for a little while. We experience joyful moments but those are interrupted by irritations and aggravations. We experience the “good life” of houses and cars and vacation homes but even these break down over time and we lose our joy in them.

Abraham chose something better and lasting. Qualitatively it is “better” and it lasts longer than any joys we experience now.

Remember to whom this epistle is written. It is written to Hebrews. That is why it is called the epistle to the Hebrews. These Jewish people view Israel as their home country. They are people of the land. The land is very important to them. But they need to be reminded that the country for which Abraham and the other patriarchs were waiting was no earthly country like Israel or Judea, but rather a heavenly country.

Here is the point. They were so used to the visible elements of their religion – the rituals of circumcision, the sacrifices in the temple, the ceremonies – that when they came to know the One to whom all of those visual elements pointed, they were tempted to leave Him and to go back to the earthly ceremonies. When it came time to choose between the rituals that pointed to Jesus versus choosing Jesus Himself, they were tempted to choose the rituals. If offered a heavenly kingdom versus an earthly kingdom, they were inclined to choose the earthly.

But God’s kingdom is not of this world. Jesus made that very clear when He stood before Pilate. He said, “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36).

But what does this mean for you and me today? It means that we shouldn’t be so overly concerned about building our own little earthly kingdoms, kingdoms that will one day pass away. It means that we ought to be laying up treasures in heaven.

“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Matthew 6:19-21)

Back in verse 14, our author said, “For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland.” To “speak thus” must mean to verbally profess that our thoughts and desires are for heaven.

Since we come from a different country, we talk and act differently than the natives of this world do. When they observe that we are different, we should be ready to tell them why (1 Pet. 3:15). Tell them about God’s promise of heaven for all that believe in Christ, so that they can join us as pilgrims journeying toward our new country in heaven.

C. H. Spurgeon said, “The Christian is the most contented man in the world, but he is the least contented with the world. He is like a traveler in an inn, perfectly satisfied with the inn and its accommodation, considering it as an inn, but putting quite out of all consideration the idea of making it his home.”

Our biggest danger is to become comfortable with this world and to think of it as our true home, to invest all our energies into making the best life in the here and how. This is what the biblical writers call worldliness.

James tells us that we cannot be friends of God and friends of the world. They are mutually exclusive. Jesus told us we cannot have two masters. We must make a choice.

“[James 4:3-5] pictures the church as the wife of God. God has made us for Himself and has given Himself to us for our enjoyment. Therefore it is adultery when we try to be “friends” with the world. If we seek from the world the pleasures we should seek in God, we are unfaithful to our marriage vows. And, what’s worse, when we go to our Heavenly Husband and actually pray for the resources with which to commit adultery with the world, it is a very wicked thing. It is as though we should ask our husband for money to hire male prostitutes to provide the pleasure we don’t find in Him!” (John Piper, Desiring God, p.141).

The problem is that if we don’t really love God, we will default to loving the world. In other words, if we don’t “follow hard” after God (Psalm 63:8), then we will easily follow the world. John Piper says it like this: “When you become so blind that the maker of galaxies and ruler of nations and knower of all mysteries and lover of our souls becomes boring, then only one thing is left — the love of the world. For the heart is always restless. It must have its treasure: if not in heaven, then on the earth” (Sermon: Malachi 1:6-14, November 1, 1987, http://www.DesiringGod.org).

Faith that Marches Off the Map, part 4 (Hebrews 11:8-10)

We’ve been talking about the faith of Abram, a faith that first obeyed and then endured, even though Abram had to wait many years for a child and didn’t receive the promise of the land during his lifetime.

8 By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going. 9 By faith he went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. 10 For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God.

Wait. . . didn’t Abraham make it to the Promised Land? Didn’t Sarah have her promised child, Isaac? Yes, but what they experienced in this life was merely a foretaste, a shadow of things to come. Abraham didn’t receive the full promise, just a down payment. Abraham and Sarah had only one child–the promise was for descendants “innumerable as the sand which is by the seashore” (11:12). The land in which he sojourned was indeed the Promised Land, but he, Sarah, Isaac, and all their household lived there as “strangers and exiles on the earth” (11:13; cf. 1 Pt 2:11). (Charles R. Swindoll, Swindoll’s Living Insights: Hebrews, 177)

Now, Abram understood that the land of the Canaanites was a foreshadowing of something infinitely greater. We saw hints of this back in chapter 4 when the author of Hebrews said, “there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God” (Heb. 4:9). A rest that was available to those Hebrews in the first century and is available to us today.

Abram was confident that this thin piece of geography would one day belong to his people. But he had come to view that land in the same way that we view the sacraments of the Lord’s Table—that it points to something greater beyond it. Abram discerned in the promise of God something far greater than this strip of geography.

The author of Hebrews is saying that when Abraham went out from his father’s country to Canaan, he was not just counting on God’s promise for that piece of real estate. He was looking beyond it to the promise of heaven. God promised the land of Canaan to Abraham’s descendants (Gen. 17:8) and He later gave them that land (Josh. 23:13-14). But the land was never the final or full realization of the promise. It was only an earthly picture of the full promise, which is the eternal city that God has prepared for His people (11:16). Abraham viewed himself as a stranger and sojourner in the land of Canaan (Gen. 23:4). His focus was on heaven, and so should ours be.

That is why he endured so long. That is why he lived as a nomad for all those years. He understood that God’s promise involved something more valuable than all the land of Canaan.

10 For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God.

The third thing we notice about Abram’s faith in this passage is that it is a faith that anticipates a greater reward. It obeys (v. 8), endures (v. 9) and anticipates future reward (v. 10). What made Abram a “happy camper” even though he waited his whole life to receive God’s promise, is that “he was looking forward to the city that has foundations” —the idea being that he was looking for the only city with enduring foundations. Although he had lived in likely the largest and most magnificent city of the time, Ur, this was an even bigger and better city.

Abram “was looking forward” reveals a continuous act of looking toward something that was not yet visible. It occupied his mind and gripped his heart. He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

More important than anything else about this city is that “its designer and builder is God.” It owes nothing to an inferior builder. It showcases better than the earth’s best builders could ever design and build. God is the designer and builder.

What Abram was seeing was heaven, possibly the new Jerusalem. Abram saw in God’s promise that which the land prefigured. From now on, it will be a consistent theme of this letter. For example, later in Hebrews 11:16 he will speak of “a better country, that is, a heavenly one” and in Hebrews 12:22 he refers to “Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem” and finally in 13:14 he speaks of “the city that is to come.” Revelation 21-22 describe the glories of that heavenly city. And in John 14 Jesus tells us that he is “preparing a place” for us in the Father’s house.

Although there are certain things about the worldly city that is anti-God, God is not specifically against the city. It is the ultimate destiny of God’s people. No more “strangers and aliens,” no more camping, no more nomadic life. We will be settled there. A city with foundations offered a permanent, established home, in contrast to the transient existence of a tent-encampment.

“To cultured men in the first century, the city was the highest form of civilized existence” (Leon Morris, p. 118).

A city, in the Old Testament, was a place of security. That is why the broken down walls of Jerusalem was such a heartbreaking thought for Nehemiah. It was unable to defend itself. Ancient walled cities were protected by gates secured with bars, and the psalmist in Psalm 147:12 uses this imagery to describe the security God provides.

The word TENTS is to be set against the word CITY. In a city the houses and buildings are constructed on foundations. That is, they are permanent structures. Tents, on the other hand, are temporary dwellings held by pegs in the sand. The writer is using the tent vs city comparison to contrast the temporariness of life on earth with the permanent character of God’s invisible city. By faith, Abraham SAW the eternal city, the permanent home of the believer. To him that was the real world. From then on nothing earthly could satisfy him. While his body wandered about in the promised land, his soul longed for the eternal dwelling of the family of God. (C. S. Lovett, Lovett’s Lights on Hebrews, 255)

Tents have only pegs which are pulled up and moved. Earthly cities have walls which stand longer and yet crumble. But this city stands forever. And we should look forward to and long for this city like Abram did.

It is a dangerous thing when a Christian begins to feel permanently settled in this world. (R. Kent Hughes, Preaching the Word: Hebrews, vol. 2, 98) This is not our permanent home; heaven is.

A city is also a place of social life. Bishop Westcott observed, “The object of his desire was social and not personal only” (Brooke Foss Westcott, The Epistle to the Hebrews (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1967), p. 360). There, he would not only see God, but he would dwell with believers in harmony rather than dissonance (cf. 12:22–24).

Now, it’s important that we realize that the city to which the writer of Hebrews is referring is not Jerusalem, but the New Jerusalem. First off, the old Jerusalem was not built by God. It was a Canaanite city. It was originally built by Canaanites.

We know from Hebrews 11:16 that it is a “heavenly one,” the “heavenly Jerusalem” (Heb. 12:22), “the city that is to come” (Heb. 13:14).

If it is the old Jerusalem, it would have been encouragement to return to the law of Moses and the sacrificial system, just as some of them were already tempted to do to escape persecution and return to what was familiar to them.

The writer of Hebrews wanted his first century audience to continue looking forward, to a new and better city than Jerusalem.

We continue to look for a city. It is a city in which we hold our citizenship (Philippians 3:20). We are currently nomads living in a foreign country. Our citizenship is in heaven. And on this earth, we are ambassadors for Christ.

Our reward is in the world to come. If I live now as if God’s reward is owed to me now I will be disappointed. Our reward is not primarily in this world (oh, there will be some), but mostly in the world to come.

Parents, you will never convince your children to give up this world and go to some malaria infested jungles if there is nothing about your life that suggests you are one day leaving this world and clinging to the city of God! If you hang on to this world instead of the world to come, you betray that belief.

Simply going to church once a week won’t cut it! Your children must see you give away your money because you believe in a heavenly reward that “neither moth nor rust destroys” (Matt. 6:20). Your children need to see you spending your time sacrificially because you believe that God does not “overlook your work and the love that you have shown for his name in serving the saints” (Heb. 6:10) and will one day reward it (1 Cor. 3:10-15; 2 Cor. 5:10). They need to see you opening up your home, turning down promotions, doing what they world would say is crazy, because you believe in a greater, heavenly reward.

Do you believe what you sing when you say, “nothing compares to the promise I have in you”? Really? What does your checkbook reveal? What does your parenting reveal? What does your schedule say?

After 40 years of hard, hard work missionary to Africa Henry Morrison came home. Sailing into New York City, he happened to be on the same ship with then President Theodore Roosevelt, who at that time was wildly popular with the public.

As they entered the harbor the president was greeted with enormous fanfare. As Morrison and his wife stepped off the boat, however, not a single person was there to greet them. Morrison was discouraged and dejected. After all, four decades of service to the Lord!

Over the next few weeks, Henry tried, but failed to put the incident behind him. He was sinking deeper into depression when one evening, he said to his wife, “This is all wrong. This man comes back from a hunting trip and everybody throws a big party. We give our lives in faithful service to God for all these many years, but no one seems to care.”

His wife cautioned him that he should not feel this way. Henry replied “I know, but I just can’t help it. It just isn’t right.”

His wife then said, “Henry, you know God doesn’t mind if we honestly question Him. You need to tell this to the Lord and get this settled now. You’ll be useless in His ministry until you do.”

Henry Morrison then went to his bedroom, got down on his knees and, shades of Habakkuk, began pouring out his heart to the Lord. “Lord, you know our situation and what’s troubling me. We gladly served you faithfully for years without complaining. But now God, I just can’t get this incident out of my mind…”

After about ten minutes of fervent prayer, Henry returned to the living room with a peaceful look on his face. His wife said “It looks like you’ve resolved the matter. What happened?”

Henry replied, “The Lord settled it for me. I told Him how bitter I was that the President received this tremendous homecoming, but no one even met us as we returned home. When I finished, it seemed as though the Lord put His hand on my shoulder and simply said, ‘But Henry, you are not home yet!’”

And we, today, must live as if we are not home yet. We must live as if the reward of that country is better than anything this world could offer, that the praise of our heavenly father far outweighs any praise we receive now, that anything we give up for Christ in this life will be rewarded a hundred times over in the next.

As Paul has written, “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him…”

We must keep our attention and affections on heaven (Col. 3:1-3), as C. S. Lewis says in Mere Christianity:

Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger: well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim: well, there is such a thing as water. … If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. If none of my earthy pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing. … I must keep alive in myself the desire for my true country, which I shall not find till after death; I must never let it get snowed under or turned aside; I must make it the main object of life to press on to that other country and help others to do the same.

We are “strangers and aliens,” Peter tells us. Our “citizenship is in heaven,” Paul says. This is the kind of faith that grace produces—a faith that obeys, a faith that endures, a faith that anticipates a greater reward.

Is that the kind of faith you have?

Abram never would have left Ur until he decided that he loved the “many sons” in a far-off land and a city whose designer and builder was God more than he loved the familiar way of life in Sumer. He had to trade one love for another.

The boomer who came to Jesus asking about eternal life may have been sincere. But when Jesus forced him to face the fierce competition between his love for his possessions and his love for Christ, ultimately he couldn’t abandon his love for possessions. He couldn’t leave.

Ultimately, mid-course corrections and the life of adventure start by facing the question Peter had to face: “do you truly love me more than these?” (John 21:15).

As we shall see, this was Abram’s dilemma throughout his life: “Do you love me more than life in Ur? Do you love me more than trying to save your tail in Egypt? Do you love me more than your frantic attempts to obtain a surrogate son? And the big one: do you love me more than Isaac?”

And this is what God is asking you and me: Do you love me more than you love this world?

The apostle John warns us, “Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world–the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride in possessions–is not from the Father but is from the world. And the world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever” (1 John 2:15-17)

“I’m but a stranger here, Heav’n is my home,” we love to sing, but in life’s reality it’s often so different. Eyes that should be raised heavenward are riveted on earth. Feet that should be tramping toward Canaan’s shores are mired in earth’s swamps. Hands that should be reaching for eternal treasures are wrapped around gaudy marbles. Backs that should be straining in kingdom effort are bent over in valueless pursuit. (Richard E. Lauersdorf, The People’s Bible: Hebrews, 137)

“This is why a continual desire for worldly pleasures often signifies that all is not well. Some of this world’s pleasures, even in moderation, will undermine a Christian’s spiritual life. If a married man wants to flirt with other girls, even in moderation, one assumes that there is something wrong with his marriage—or if not, that there soon will be! So it is when a Christian flirts with worldliness. The command is clear and uncompromising:

Come out from them, and be separate from them, says the Lord, and touch not nothing unclean; then I will welcome you. (2 Cor 6:17)

We are to abstain from every form of evil (2 Thess 5:22).” (Kenneth Prior; The Way of Holiness, 144)

And how do we do that? By tasting and seeing that the Lord is good, by developing a sweet tooth for God rather than the delights of this world. According to Francis de Sales, these “foretastes of heavenly delight” are used by God to withdraw us from “earthly pleasures” and encourage us in the “pursuit of divine love.”