Faith allows us to live with hope now and forever

By Editor | August 8, 2013 |

During the more than 50 years I served as a pastor, I met some of the greatest folks in the world. That might be a cliché, but I don’t know any other way to describe them. Pastors, laymen of the church and godly women who loved the Lord and wanted to serve him.

I learned a lot from them, and am indebted to them for their patience, love, kindness, mercy and grace. And that is just a partial list of the blessings I’ve been given. These kinds of people are still around us today, and, no doubt, some of them are part of your church family. There may be only a remnant of them noticeable to the general public, as they tend to stay in the background, but their deep faith in Jesus Christ is evident in part by an ever-present readiness to answer when questioned about the reason for their hope (1 Peter 3:15).
But this is good. We have learned well, and are eager to share our faith, especially over issues and matters dealing with one’s eternal destiny. We are quick to point out that God wants to save us from hell, and then take us on to heaven when we die. This “saving” is accomplished by God’s grace, through our faith in Jesus’ death and resurrection (Ephesians 2:8,9; Romans 10:9).
A New Testament writer, Paul, wrote a letter to the church at Corinth. In that letter, he reminded them of a life after the one they were living that day. “And if it is in this life only that we have hope in Christ Jesus, we are of all men most…” (I’ll let you read the rest of that verse in 1 Corinthians 15:19).
Here is what I would like to share with you during this brief devotion: The Bible alludes to another hope. A hope that his people can possess during what is commonly called “this earthly life.” In my opinion, this particular salvation – we might call it a rescuing – is also a product of God’s grace, brought about as a result of our faith. When I talk about faith in this context, I’m not talking about simply believing God will do this, or take care of that, or solve a certain problem. That kind of believing may not be faith at all. I’m talking about the kind of faith that, for example, lifts us from a nonproductive arena of worry into the bliss of peace, and it is more than a simple belief that he will. This kind of hope, alluded to in Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, is only experienced through one’s consistent daily walk and fellowship with God.
The Old Testament tells us, even though only briefly, about a man named Enoch who walked with God, and God took him to heaven (Genesis 5:24). Perhaps Enoch had long ago decided that nothing would come between him and his love for God. That he would never leave God nor forsake him. I might be running in different circles, but very few of God’s children that I know are even close to living on this plain of spirituality. (By the way, that includes me as well.) And this may be a big part of the reason why most of us who are Christians are quick to tell those in our own group about the goodness of God in providing a salvation from eternal damnation, but say little if any thing at all about being saved from those hellish maladies that are all too common in this life.
On the one hand, we seem content to tolerate and accept such things as our own selfishness, fear, sorrow, despair, etc. On the other hand, it appears we embrace and almost welcome them as old familiar friends. God has provided a better way for his children, believers in Christ Jesus, to experience life, and he tells us about it in the Bible. (See Galatians 6:22-23.) He calls these characteristics the fruit of the spirit, and admonishes us to walk in the spirit as well as live in the spirit, (verse 25). This sounds more like Enoch than anything else I’ve read.
So I can’t escape the question that is before me. Why should I, and why would I, accept items from the seemingly endless list, like worry, when I could have serenity; or fear when I could experience peace; or sorrow instead of joy?
God provided an eternal salvation for us through his son Jesus. He also offers to rescue us from what I call minor damnations. There is no need to accept the first without accepting the second.