Citizenship

I'm thinking about citizenship. Tuesday was Australia Day, the day we celebrate being Australian, and tonight some of our local Aussie friends are joining us for an (indoor) barbie. 

But the night before Australia Day I sat in on a session with a multinational panel who also talked about citizenship. All four on the panel are known as Adult TCKs or Third Culture Kids (definition of TCK here). They all spent part or all of their years growing up in Japan, but had citizenship in other countries. Most of them have parents who weren't Japanese, or if they were Japanese had lived overseas for a significant time with their children. Most of the panel have moved between a variety of cultures and sub-cultures throughout their lives. That's lead to quite a complex identity for each of them, none of them could easily be put into a box.

For example, one young man was born in Singapore, but came to Japan as a baby and grew up here as the child of Singaporean missionaries. He spent a number of those years at CAJ, which is an international environment, one where he felt very much at home. After graduation he returned to Singapore to do his compulsory military service for two years. Following that he went to university in Britain. He's now back in Japan and a self-proclaimed international vagabond, and he's at peace with that. Where's home? That's not a good question.

But he has citizenship in heaven. It was a concept, a reality, that has given him and others on the panel great comfort.

So I was pondering citizenship. I have Australian citizenship. What does that mean? It means I have the right to live in that country without a visa and I don't have to carry identification with me.  I can go in and out without permission or people asking questions though Centrelink [government welfare agency] likes to ask lots of questions, they're the only ones who've ever questioned the validity of my citizenship; interestingly, though, the tax office is fine, as long as you continue to submit tax returns! It's kind-of like a life-time season pass.

It also means that I have the right to vote (which is also a responsibility). I have other responsibilities too, like paying taxes (but I also have that with residency in Japan) and taking care of my country.

I have a right to the privileges of citizenship, like education and health care. It means, too, that I can retire to Australia without special permission to do so.

So what does heavenly citizenship mean? It this term is only mentioned once, by Paul in his letter to the Philippians.

But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body. Philippians 3:20-21, NIV

Here's another version:

But our homeland is in heaven, and we are waiting for our Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, to come from heaven. He will change our humble bodies and make them like his own glorious body. Christ can do this by his power. With that power he is able to rule all things. International Children's Bible.

We Christians often forget this. Yes, we have citizenship here on earth and it's something we often value. People like panelists I met earlier in the week value earthly citizenship a little less than those of us who have strong roots in one country. In many ways it's probably easier for them to remember this verse than others for whom "Where's home?" is easier.

Having citizenship in heaven is a comfort because it means my future is secure. The privileges of citizenship in heaven will completely outclass any citizenship I can gain here on earth (and we surely won't have Centrelink hounding us for our whereabouts and loyalty).

Citizenship in heaven has consequences here on earth. It means that when I meet people with whom I have nothing in common but my faith, I feel a kinship. I love worshipping in Japanese, not because I understand all the words that I'm singing (and I generally don't), but because I love being together with my "fellow citizens".

Heavenly citizenship also has responsibilities here on earth. Taking care of my fellow citizens, spreading the good news to others who haven't heard of this amazing good news, as well as being responsible caretakers of what I've been given (from material goods to skills and abilities).

I'm reading through Daniel at present. I was encouraged to read what King Darius proclaimed to his who dominion after God protected Daniel in the lions' den:

“Then King Darius wrote to all the nations and peoples of every language in all the earth: "May you prosper greatly! I issue a decree that in every part of my kingdom people must fear and reverence the God of Daniel. 'For he is the living God and he endures forever; his kingdom will not be destroyed, his dominion will never end'" Daniel 6:25-26, NIV. 

Heavenly citizenship in a kingdom that will never be destroyed, that will never end. Wow!

Then the famous passage about heaven:

"'He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” Rev. 21:4, NIV.

Tonight I'm going to enjoy a barbie, eating snags and pav, and talkin' Aussie. But it is but a poor glimpse of the joy of taking up residency with my Heaven passport!


If you want to think a little more on this, I recommend this article about Australia Day and avoiding the extremes of the season.

Disappointed

One day we'll understand the troubles we go through now,
 but for now it's as if we are looking through grubby glass.

Our daily Bible reading notes usually has a single, sometimes pithy, sometimes redundant or corny statement at the bottom. Today it was disappointing.

Jesus is the only friend who will never disappoint you.

Just quickly without thinking hard I could think of several people (most of whom are friends) who haven't had their prayers answered: two whose spouses have died young this year, one who desires joy but never seems to get it, one who has post-natal depression for the second time despite all precautions, and one who is lonely, despite many people around her, one who wishes her job were easier, even though she works for a Christian organisation, and another who yearns to be married. 

Those represent only a smattering, of people I know about or who've confided in me in recent months. I'd want to bet that there are many more out there, or perhaps everyone who's had something that they've desperately prayed about not answered in the way they wanted.

Philip Yancey's Disappointment with God delves deeply into this.

So clearly there are problems with the above quote. Everyone I mentioned above are Christians. 

Jesus is indeed the perfect friend, the only perfect friend, in that he doesn't ever do evil against us. But because we aren't perfect and we don't live in a perfect world bad things happen. In God's great wisdom he's using all this imperfection for his good purposes, but we don't necessarily know what that is. And it often hurts.

On Sunday one of David's colleagues preached about the Bible metaphor of God as the potter and us as the clay. It was great to hear a live sermon in English (I often listen to a  recording of a sermon from our home church during the week). But the metaphor is such a good one, and as a lover of pottery and the husband of a potter, he was able to give extra insight.

This image appears in several places in the Bible. Some examples are Romans 9:21 "Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for special purposes and some for common use?" and Jeremiah 18:4 "But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him."

The preacher on Sunday pointed out that if we were to imagine ourselves as clay being formed into a piece of pottery, there's a lot of rough stuff that happens during the process.

It is a helpful analogy when feeling that Jesus isn't appearing to be the perfect friend that you want. He's not just a friend, he's our creator, Lord, and is in the business of forming us into the vessels he wants us to be.

So I object to the simplistic statement that Jesus is the only perfect friend. He is perfect and he is a friend, but he's much more than a friend. And from our limited and flawed perspectives he can appear very imperfect indeed.

Do not be discouraged. Jesus' love for us is very great, greater than a best friend.

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:38-39). 

Heavenly Perspective

My monthly meditation on Hebrews 12:1-3:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy that was set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

Our recent OMF gathering.
Now there are plenty of faults here, but being involved with
groups of people like this is like a taste of heaven.

I've read a couple of books on heaven recently. One that's become a bit famous  and has recently been released in the US as a movie is called, "Heaven is for Real." The story of a young boy who testifies that he went to heaven during an operation, it is very believable. An aside is that the boy's birthday is almost the same as our eldest son's.

The second book is by Joni Eareckson Tada: "Heaven . . . Your Real Home."

The third book that I've just begun has touched on this topic too. It is called, "On Asking God Why?" by Elisabeth Elliot.

I didn't intend to head down this path. I'm not researching this topic at all, it's just happened. But it has been a helpful reminder that my true home is heaven, and having a focus like that helps to keep things in perspective here on earth.

The start of Hebrews 12 gets us looking in heaven's direction also. Considering those who've already gone to heaven, but also Jesus. Joni gives us good perspective on this. She writes:

Although I wouldn't normally call three decades in a wheelchair "momentary," it is when you realise that "you are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes" (James 4:14). Scripture is constantly trying to get us to look at life this way. Our life is but a blip on the eternal screen. . . .

The Lord had come from heaven, and He knew how wonderful it was. Thus, He was always focusing on end results. . .

Nothing more radically altered the way I looked at my suffering than leapfrogging to this end-of-time vantage point. Heaven became my greatest hope. In fact, I wondered how other people could possibly face quadriplegia, cancer, or even a death in the family without the hope of heaven. 

That's what this sentence in Hebrews 12 is all about: "For the joy that was set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Jesus knew that His suffering was just temporary and not much at all compared to where he was headed: straight to His Father's side.

Then He calls us to have this perspective too, so that we won't give up too easily, so we won't declare we are too weary to persevere through the dirt and scum that this world throws at us.

Let us not just fix our eyes on Jesus, the man-Jesus. Let us fix our eyes on the Jesus who's sitting at the right hand of the throne of God in heaven. Which, by the way, sounds magnificent beyond earthly words if the testimony of the above mentioned young boy is to be believed.

We're about to book our tickets for Australia. The next four months will be full of busyness and temporary pain as we relocate. But if I can just keep lifting my eyes to heaven where all  will be right and good, I can make it in His strength.

Miracles

I have a friend*, Camilla, who had a harrowing experience last year, and it isn't over yet. After nearly dying when a virus attacked his heart, her husband is now waiting in hospital for a heart transplant. A witty introduction to his story is here on his blog. 

She reads this blog and a couple of weeks ago she wrote this comment on a post: 

Having recently had what we believe to be a miracle in our lives, I'd love to read your take on miracles. 

I believe that miracles happen. As you know, I'm a God-follower. I believe that God created everything. Everything including natural laws. I believe that he is all-powerful and able to suspend those natural laws whenever he wishes. 


In the Bible we see many miracles, from the parting of the Red Sea to Jesus healing people and rising from the dead. There are times recorded in the Bible that were flush with miracles and other times when they were rarely seen. 


I don't agree that miracles were only for back then, they are experienced here today too. We probably actually don't acknowledge miracles as much as we should. We attribute a lot to technology and science these days, but sometimes they obscure true miracles. 


Camilla, I believe that God was intimately involved in the miracle that you experienced.  I'm thrilled that God did this for you. I was praying for you and your family at the time that Paul was in a coma, praying for a miracle.


I read this quote recently that is quite helpful to me: 

Christianity . . . is perhaps the most materialistic of the word's faiths. Jesus's miracles were not so much violations of the natural order, but a restoration of the natural order. God did not create a world with blindness, leprosy, hunger, and death in it. Jesus's miracles were signs that someday all these corruptions of his creation would be abolished (p112 The Prodigal God, Timothy Keller).

So we look forward to the end of all this pain and suffering, and it will be an incredible miracle when God abolishes all the bad in this world. This is what it says in the second last chapter of the Bible about heaven:

I heard a loud voice shout from the throne:

God’s home is now with his people. He will live with them, and they will be his own. Yes, God will make his home among his people. He will wipe all tears from their eyes, and there will be no more death, suffering, crying, or pain. These things of the past are gone forever (Revelations 21:3-4, CEV).

Oh yes, I look forward to that day.


*I wrote about catching up with Camilla after 20 years in this blog post.

A looser hold

How much more can I say about packing? The boys were looked after by a fellow missionary family today for five hours. It is amazing how much can be achieved in five child-free hours! The outside of the fridge is largely naked (almost all the magnet and photos are gone), the cupboards are echoing and towers of boxes loom everywhere. After that effort, I felt satisfied enough to pick up a book and read for over half an hour. Little step by little step, the mountainous task is being completed and now we're not overly stressed about having this house packed up in time. Unlike back a month or two or even three. Occasionally the reality of what we're doing comes into focus. Tonight, for example, when I told the boys they could help us pack up some of their toys tomorrow. "But why?" they asked. "Because we only have four days left living in this house." I had to reply. Sad, but true. In nearly 12 years of marriage, this is the house we've remained in the longest. But not because we have itchy feet. Almost all of our moves have been ministry related. We've lived in seven different houses or apartments. In this house we've stayed almost twice as long as we've stayed anywhere else. Four years! Not that we're terribly attached to the house itself. It is not our dream house, but it has done admirably for the years we've needed it. Actually, while we're in this missionary business, I hope we never get very attached to a house. Because the grief when we have to leave would be much greater. And, after all, it is just a house. Something far less than permanent or eternal. The missionary lifestyle teaches you to have a looser hold on physical possessions. This is good. As the things and people around you keep changing, your eyes turn heavenward. If they don't you go crazy. We're looking forward to inheriting our heavenly citizenship.