I grow concerned, more so in recent years, that too much of what we do as Christians in the west is based on fear. Fear of tyranny, or invasion, or corrupt power structures, or really anything else. We must vote a certain way to protect our way of life and our freedom. We must stand in opposition before this politician comes for those we care about. Now, there is a certain wisdom to understanding what is happening in the world and using what power we have to push against the worst of it. I do not advocate for Christians to be removed from the real problems around us or to be complacent in the face of evil. I do, however, urge us all to do so from an understanding that the forces we oppose are not ultimately in charge of what happens.

It's easy to say that we do understand that. But do we really make our decisions about dangers with the understanding that no amount of violence from our enemy can actually harm us unless God allows it? Do we approach our economic state with the fundamental understanding that God will see us through for as long as He has us on this Earth, and no amount of stored money and goods and guns will keep us here even a second longer than that? Do we approach the world's systems with the understanding that God will judge them in His wisdom and strength?

Are we a people distinct and set apart, a people who live as though the ultimate power over all of life is God? Do we align ourselves with power structures to protect ourselves and our interests rather than letting God be our primary, and only, allegiance? Do we seek to protect and dig deep into systems that Christ will judge and destroy on His return? God will cast down all of the systems of this world that do not serve His glory. All of the nations will pass away, no modern economy will survive into the Kingdom, no protest movement will be necessary when the perfect comes. Let us hold these things loosely, let us not put our hope in them as the world does, let us never lose sight of the fact that God is in control and He will not share His glory with any body that demands our allegiance in this life.

Every time a witness in scripture is given a glimpse into the throne room of God, praise is being sung. Songs of praise punctuate events throughout the book of Revelation, they slip out of Paul's pen as he works through theological issues, they accompany the opening of the temple and the birth of Christ and His final major arrival to Jerusalem. God is praised constantly throughout scripture.

One thing I've tried to incorporate here is a hymn with each daily devotion. The text of the hymn rarely, if ever, makes any direct impact on what I end up writing. I only really even tell you what the hymn I read that day is because it holds me accountable to actually have one. I read it as part of my prayer time, and have been recently just going through my hymnal in order without much consideration about finding a hymn directly relevant to the day's texts (which would be very difficult anyway, since I do that stage before reading scripture and therefore don't know what a relevant hymn would even be). I'll be changing gears and doing specifically Advent hymns when that season starts soon. But the point is, I had to recognize that my life was not centered on praise, and one step I took in addressing that was making sure I spend some time every day actively worshiping God.

​I'm not where I need to be with praising God throughout my day, and I think this is something we should all ask ourselves once in a while. We are constantly told about the importance of maintaining an active prayer life, and I fully back that--we need to be going to God constantly and we need to be leaning on Him to do the work He has for us--but I sometimes grow concerned when we are not also told about the importance of maintaining an active life of worship. Of setting our eyes and minds and hearts on God, remembering His greatness, extolling His virtue. When we worship we join with a constant activity being poured out before God, we participate in the regular spiritual life of the kingdom beyond this world. Beyond that, we are reminded of who it is we are praying to, serving, and honoring. Prayer reminds us, among other things, that we can boldly approach the throne of grace; worship reminds us, among other things, that it is still very much a throne.

Recently, a man named John Allen Chau was apparently killed on North Sentinel Island after attempting to evangelize to the people who live there. I witnessed a great many responses that showed a very clear lack of understanding about what it is missionaries do and how they do it and even who they are, which has prompted me to start working on a post on missions. That will be finished at some point, but today's reading brought the whole matter to mind because of one very specific claim that was being made about missionaries. The statement that had been made, and showed up a few times, was that Christians (or at least Evangelical Christians) believe Christ cannot return until every people group is reached and therefore missionaries are actively attempting to bring about the end of the world.

Now, there's a lot to unpack there, and we really should start with the fact that what they're talking about is a very specific read of Dispensationalism that is not shared by all Evangelicals, and even then it is being somewhat misunderstood in this context. But this is a devotional, and the thought that came to mind as I was reading today in Revelation 14 and Jesus' prophesy about the destruction of the temple in Luke 21 and the rather violent promises in Psalm 110 and even a chapter of Ecclesiastes (which is always such a cheerful experience as it is) was about how much we really do suggest to the world that the end is our whole focus.

See, because, it is easy to read passages about angels reaping the Earth in which human lives almost seem to lose all individual meaning and forget to view it through the Biblical mindset that people matter. It's easy to read Jesus' words quoted above and just kind of take them as though He is reprimanding the disciples for appreciating the beauty in something that will not last. Even just the tone of voice used in the rare occasions I've heard this passage read aloud belie this innate sense that Jesus is really saying, "Don't bother with any of that, it's coming down anyway" rather than considering that Jesus may also think it's beautiful and maybe, just maybe, He's mourning what He knows about it. We can see the promises of God to deliver the peoples into the hands of Christ as the final judge and king of all the world, and divorce it from the knowledge that Jesus defeats death on the cross and that God shows a consistent desire that none should perish. It's so easy for us to look at the world around us and cry with the Preacher, "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity!"

We are told about the end for a reason. It is good that we know about the full extent and power of God's victory. It is good to view this world with some awareness of what awaits us in the age to come and how our actions today impact that. But we are not told about the end so that we can spend all our time there. We are told about the end so that we can live our lives appropriately now. We can have hope now because we know that Christ has taken the victory and that it will be fulfilled.

But what do we do? We talk endlessly about the end times. We invite people into salvation as though it applies to getting into Heaven but not as though it changes us now. What does the world see when we compare world leaders to the Antichrist and talk about this earth passing away as a shroud and do not broadcast that this religion is something that matters every day as we walk this Earth, and not just something that we sign on to now and then get to enjoy later? We are not pre-ordering salvation! We are being asked to lay down our lives, our entire lives, right here and now and let God decide what we will look like going forward. We are commanded to give everything over to Him and let Him decide how much of it will be given back and what we will do with it. How often do we invite people into that? How often do we take seriously that this might include dying for Christ, but it will absolutely include living for Him? And how often do we show that seriousness of purpose to the people around us?

​When we look at passages about the end times, or what is to come in general, let us be a people who read it seeking to know what that means for us today rather than sacrificing our today to dwell on the future.

When I graduated high school, my first attempt to find a next step for myself was an art school in Pittsburgh. About six month in, it was becoming apparent that the program wasn't panning out and I couldn't actually afford to stay in my Brentwood apartment and I was quickly running out of options. I had taken up drinking, and smoking, and weed, and none of it seemed a sufficient escape on the night when I found myself really confronted with the possibility that this was a failed venture. I took a walk to clear my head after trying to self-medicate and think through the details, and on the way back I found myself standing in front of a brick Presbyterian church on Brownsville Road at around three in the morning. I went up and tested the doors, which were unsurprisingly locked. I don't know why I felt the need to bother, I hadn't really been serious about faith for a few years and I wouldn't be again for another year or so, but something had been stuck in my mind that this was a place to go. A place of refuge. I sat on the steps and vented to God for a while, and then went home and passed out. The next day, I found I was comfortable with the decision I needed to make and was done with school and moved out within a week.

We still call the heart of a church building the sanctuary. We understand the notion that this is a place where people can take refuge, can find rest, can encounter the God who provides and protects. Is that the image we present to the world around us? If I had not grown up in a church, would I have had the notion, just from our culture or the churches in my town, that the steps of that brick building were a place where I could sit and seek comfort and wisdom? Do the people in our communities see our churches as havens?

A large part of the answer comes down to how they see us. The fact is, no matter how warm and welcoming we make our church buildings, if our neighbors do not feel welcomed by us, they will not want to go to the place we frequent. This is especially true if they know that our church is where we get our notions for what it means to be a good neighbor. If our God is a refuge for the oppressed, and we are imaging God in our lives, should we not be a refuge for the oppressed?

We may be tempted to see the first line of Hebrews 13 and interpret the rest as only applying to other Christians, other members of our known body. But then who are the strangers? These are not people who attend the same church as us that we just don't know, after all, sometimes they are apparently angels. Should we assume that the prisoners are only those in prison for the sake of the gospel? Or that the ill-treated are only those ill-treated because of their faith? I submit that the same God who told Israel to show hospitality to the foreigner who happened to be among them, and then told us to show hospitality to the stranger, means for us to show His love to all those who cross our paths and to remember those who are hidden from our sight.

Our churches can never be welcoming places if the people who occupy them are not welcoming people. We must consider what our words, and actions, and social media posts say about our willingness to be hospitable to the stranger, the alien, the orphan and the widow, the people who surround us that we may not even realize are watching.

I had a teacher who regularly stated that "believers always exist in a state between promise and fulfillment." It was a very concise summary and I often find use for it as something of a quick guide. It is easy for us to think about this in terms of ancient Israel awaiting their Messiah, but how often do we consider this our position when God's promises seem far away? When things are difficult, or the way unclear, or God's presence feels distant, is it our default to fall back on His promises and look forward to the fulfillment?

Peter offered the following instructions to the churches in modern central Turkey about living in the world day by day.

But what is the heart of this? By what means are the people encouraged to fix their eyes on God?

He takes them back to the promises of God and reminds them of those promises which have already been fulfilled. God is faithful to do as He says. We can live in  thankfulness for that which He has done already, and in hope look forward to that which He promises yet to do.

Today is Thanksgiving in the United States, where I'm writing. We set this day aside to offer thanks for all that we have, but Christmas is always in the corner of our vision. The most famous Thanksgiving parade ends with Santa's arrival, people will leave dinner to go straight out to wait or work for Black Friday, Thanksgiving has essentially become little more than a precursor to a very commercialized Christmas. But we can celebrate the day in a healthy way, and learn to live our lives as believers, if we will see our waiting in the nature of Thanksgiving: aware of the coming Christ and fulfillment of our hopes, and focusing now on the greatness of what God has done. We must learn to be thankful for today and eager for that coming day, and there are few days better to ponder this need than today.