Living As If Raised Into Something Entirely Different

So also is the resurrection of the dead. It is sown a perishable body, it is raised an imperishable body; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body. (1 Corinthians 15:42-44 NASB)

 One of the real problems with life on earth as a child of God is the whole, 'already-and-not-yet' aspect of that life.  On the one hand we are being transformed by the renewing of our minds, but on the other, we are still sinning.  On the one hand we are children of God, but on the other that truth is not yet realized.  We have the 'stamp' of the Holy Spirit's presence within us, but we are not yet in His presence.  We are still physical and earthly (or earthy), and not yet spiritual as we will be.

So a lot of what we are will be completed in the future.  In some sense this is frustrating, but in a much more powerful way, it gives us hope.  We are suffering, to whatever degree, through this life, but always looking forward to a future life without end in the presence of our Savior.  It's thinking about that life to come that makes this one bearable.  The assurance of that life, faith in the future, hope in what we will be overcomes the present problems and circumstances.

So, I read the description by Paul in this chapter, and much that is confusing comes to the surface.  In a sense, it will be like planting a seed, and the difference between the tree that comes up and the seed planted will approximate the difference between what I am and what I will be.  If I am a 'seed' now, what will I be like as a 'tree'?  How different, more complex, far more impressive will that life be?  Of course, Paul uses the metaphor of wheat or some other grain or something planted by a farmer.  So, perhaps it won't be an 'acorn/oak' comparison as much as a 'seed/corn' or 'seed/wheat' sort of comparison in my case.  Even in that instance, the change is profound.

And yet, it is so difficult to avoid being overwhelmed by this life, and the problems I face in this body.  Where's my perspective?  Why can't I see past my own nose to the future?  Is it because that's so far off that I can't imagine it yet?  Is it because that seems to have so little bearing on the 'reality' I'm going through now?  Aren't such statements faithless?  Don't they indicate that my 'substance of things hoped for' is insubstantial?  Where's my faith? Where's my assurance of what will be?  Where's my confidence in my Master?  Why would I doubt Him?  Why would I stopping looking forward and be so distracted by the here-and-now?  What's so stinking special about here and now that it can possibly eclipse what is to come?

I know, I want to be present for those with whom I live, that's it.  But wouldn't they be better served by my insistent hope?  Wouldn't that encourage them to also look toward heaven?  I know, it's so I can be more focused on the work of my Master's Kingdom here and now, that's it.  Yet my Master's Kingdom is also 'already-and-not-yet', so the future perspective and focus only enables me to do the work more thoroughly, and with a much better, more emphatic drive.  If I look forward to then, I won't get burned out now.

One of the most frustrating things about Paul is how he could be so driven and such an impressive example of ministry.  How did he do that?  Why?  How can he write such things, endure such things, and still be driven to go further, to speak to more people?  Because every day of his life, he was sure Jesus would return.  There was no reason to get married and settle down, because Jesus was just about to come back.  Time for Paul was always short.  Even though he was wrong, he was right.

For every generation of believers, they thought they were living in the last days.  For them, they were right.  One day Jesus will return.  And when He does He will find me doing something.  What I hope He finds me doing will be work for His Kingdom; my lamp lit, oil topped off, and wick trimmed.  Perhaps I will go to Him before He comes for me and everyone else.  Either way, will I be living looking forward or living looking around?  Will I be surprised to see His face, or will it be the relief and fulfillment of all my hopes and focus of my life? 

It's not that I want to 'leave a legacy', I want to live legendary.  It's not that I want to be a blessing to those around me, it's that I want my Master's blessings to be evident through me.  Those blessings are future hopes and future realities.  To the degree that I make those my emphasis, they will impact with force those around me in this time and place.  I will give a testimony of my hope I have within me.  What differentiates me from those dead in their sins is my hope, or at least it's supposed to be the difference.  What if they can't see that in me?  What benefit is that to them?  Where is the draw?  What is the difference that believing in and following Jesus makes?  If it's not the future, then what is there?  I can't claim victory over my present situation without a future victory in which to hope.  It must be there; it has to be, or else I have nothing to share.

If that sounds harsh, then read the previous verses, 12 through 19.  If there is no future, then there is nothing in the present.  Yet we focus so much on the present, we lose the context in which this present has any meaning.  Without heaven there is no point now.  Without a resurrection, death has no point, and therefore neither does this life.  So I am to focus on the resurrection, mine, and everyone's.  One day we will all be changed, and I must be seeking that day, that city unseen, that future hope which pulls me inexorably toward a Master calling me with a new name.  This day has meaning only as another step toward that glorious end.  May that shining glory, a reflection of my Master's face, shed light on my day today.