Heavenward

16th Sunday after Pentecost at Epiphany on September 12, 2010

Philippians 3:13b-14 But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, 14 I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

Finally the moment has arrived! Can you envision it? Heaven! We’re about to enter God’s presence. Standing on holy ground. Surrounded by white-robed saints. Encompassed by the army of angels.

We don’t deserve it. We haven’t earned it. We may even surprise the angels that we’re there. The saints and angels are making glorious music. As great as the music is today, this celestial music is like none we’ve ever heard. The sounds fill all of heaven. The echoes reverberate in the Lord’s temple. Then suddenly … silence.

Now light – blinding light – as the Maestro steps into view. He is the Good Shepherd. He is the sacrificial Lamb. He is the Way, the Truth and the Life.

This is the moment we’ve been waiting for – for soon we will walk with Him, talk with Him and worship Him as He leads.

Soon God, the Author of Life, the Perfecter of Faith and the Composer of Hope will speak our name – a new name so mysterious and full of promise that only He knows it.

It’s the arrival in the Promised Land. It’s the achievement of our goal. It’s winning the prize. It’s the end of the journey. It’s the beginning of eternal life. It’s the moment you don’t want to miss.

But wait. Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself.

As Christians we are certainly headed heavenward. But right now, we seem so earthbound.

Heaven is about joy. But earth is about unhappiness. It is dissatisfaction. It is disappointment. Have you ever felt unhappy? Have you ever been dissatisfied? Has disappointment entered your life? Sure it has. Why? Because you are aliens and strangers here on earth (Hebrews 11:13). You know you don’t belong here. Unhappiness on earth cultivates a hunger for heaven. By gracing us with a deep dissatisfaction, God holds our attention. The only real tragedy for us as heavenward Christians is to be satisfied prematurely. To settle for earth. To be content in a strange land. To intermarry with the heathens of Haran and forget the Promised Land of Canaan (Genesis 12:1-8)

We are not happy here because we are not home here. We are not happy here because we are not supposed to be happy here. We are like “foreigners and strangers in this world” (1 Peter 2:11).

Take a fish and place him on the beach. Watch his gills gasp and scales dry. Is he happy? No! How do you make him happy? Do you cover him with a mountain of cash? Do you get him a beach chair and sunglasses? Do you bring him a Playfish magazine and martini? Do you dress him in double-breasted fins and people-skinned shoes?

Of course not. Then how do you make the fish happy? You put him back in his element. You give him the goal of his entire life. To be free. To be home – in the water. He will never be happy on the beach because he was not made for the beach.

And you will not be completely happy on earth simply because you were not made for the earth. Oh, sure, you may try to make yourself happy with fancy cars and big homes. You may try to please yourself with mountains of cash and earthly accolades. You may try to find instant gratification in illicit affairs, alluring alcohol, sensual seduction and gladdening gluttony. But these things don’t really make you happy. They only make God sad.

Understand this – you will never be completely happy on earth simply because you were not made for earth. Oh, you will have your moments of joy – the newborn on your breast, the bride on your arm, the sunshine on your back. The other day I told someone that two of my greatest joys as a pastor took place again this week – ushering a child into God’s kingdom through baptism and ushering a departed soul into God’s glory in a funeral.

But even those moments are simply slivers of light breaking through heaven’s window. God flirts with us. He tantalizes us. He romances us. All of these moments are only appetizers for the feast of victory to come.
You will have moments of joy. You will catch glimpses of glory. You will know instants, even days of peace. But they simply do not compare with the happiness that lies ahead.

As long as we hear the song of the saints, we are comforted. As long as we are discontent here, we will search for heaven there. As long as we know there is a better country far off, we will have hope and keep moving.
You are in a race – a race for eternity. Do not sit on the sidelines. Do not take a break. Do not become distracted by the glitz, glamour and tantalizing temptations. Rest on this earth is a false rest. Beware of those who urge you to find happiness here; you won’t find it. Guard against the false physicians who promise that joy is only a diet away, a marriage away, a job away, or a transfer away. The prophet Jeremiah denounced people like this, “They tried to heal my people’s injuries as if they were small wounds. They said, ‘It’s all right, it’s all right.’ But really, it is not all right” (Jeremiah 6:14).

And it won’t be all right until we get home.

Here's a question for you. What has 90,000 square feet, 23 bathrooms, 13 bedrooms, 10 kitchens, a 20-car garage, three pools, a bowling alley, an indoor roller rink, a two-story movie theater, a video arcade, a fitness center, a baseball field, and two tennis courts?

Give up? I thought so. The answer is Versailles. No, not the palace of French kings; this is Versailles the mansion of tycoon David Siegel. Siegel started building the mansion when his business in timeshares was booming. He stopped building the mansion when the timeshare market got clobbered by the recession.

Right now the mansion is for sale. For those of you who are curious, the cost of the joint is a mere $75 million. If you wish, you can buy the place in a completed state for a paltry $25 million more.

I’m willing to go out on a limb and say that most of you don’t have that kind of change in your petty cash box.

Now here’s the point, if we cannot scrape together the money to buy an earthly home, how short are we going to be when it comes to purchasing a nice place in heaven?

Honesty compels me to inform you that you cannot purchase a place in heaven. Not a mansion, not a condo, not a starter home, not even a closet space. You cannot buy a home in heaven. You cannot even get close enough to peer over the pearly gates.

Your sin separates you from God. Your ungodly lifestyle causes you to fall short of the glory of God. Your spiritual bankruptcy keeps you from your eternal dream house. If those rooms in heaven are going to be bought and furnished by us, they’re going to sit empty and unfilled for a very long time – for an eternity.

But, thanks be to God, those heavenly spaces with our names on them are not based on what we do or don't do. For Jesus said, “In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you” (John 14:2) Those places, even now, are being prepared for us by the Savior. The down payment was made on them with His Bethlehem birth; the monthly charges were picked up as He lived His life, and the last disbursement was made when Jesus laid down His life on the cross. His third-day resurrection from the dead says that all who believe on Jesus Christ as their Redeemer from sin have been given a heavenly home.

The precious blood of Jesus and His innocent suffering and death is the purchase price. It is the crimson of the cross. The liquid that seeped from His forehead, dripped from His hands and flowed from His side. The human blood of the divine Christ. Covering our sins. Proclaiming a message: we have been bought. We belong. Forgiveness is the prize. Mercy is the medal. Grace is the reward. Heaven is the goal.

Eight-year-old Shannah is a very animated little girl. One Sunday in church, the pastor asked the children to come to the front of the church and sit down around him. He talked about heaven. He then asked the children, “What do you think of when you think about heaven?” Shannah raised her hand, waved frantically and answered excitedly, “Party time!” It will be party time, for in heaven you can check your walker, cane, wheelchair, dentures, bifocals, and bulk bottles of prescription meds at the pearly gates. Because heaven is not handicap accessible (Revelation 21:4). Heaven is not unlimited golf. It is unlimited praise of our Redeemer. It isn’t an hour of church. It is an eternity of worship.

Jesus gave His all for you. Now He asks you to give your all in return. He gave up everything to give you everything. He left His home in heaven to win a home in heaven for you. He headed to hell to close the gates of hell to you and open wide the pearly gates of paradise. Through faith in Jesus as your Redeemer from sin, you are strangers here, heaven is your home.

The apostle Paul said, “Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” Jesus said, “Anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:27). That sounds tough. Rough. Difficult. Giving up everything and getting a cross in exchange. But believe God when He tells you, it will be worth it. No cost is too high. No sacrifice is too much. If you must leave baggage on the trail, leave it! No loss will compare. Whatever it takes, do it.

For heaven’s sake, do it! Amen.