June 17, 2018 Text: 2 Corinthians 5:1-10
Dear Friends in Christ,
I am a tent dweller. Yes, it’s true. This young man in front of you, you still see me that way, don’t you? Dwelt in a tent on family vacations from ages 5-15. I’ve slept in a tent from Kitty Hawk, North Carolina to Los Angeles, California. From the north woods of Minnesota to the Gulf of Mexico. The son of Doug and Pat Lueck laid his head somewhere different every night as we traversed the continental United States.
Have you been a tent dweller? Do you have stories like mine? Coleman lantern for light, walk to your shower, pancakes on the Coleman stove in the morning. Tent put up, tent put down and on to the next town. Even if you have not had these experiences you are still a tent dweller. You are dwelling in one right now. This place is not your permanent home. This is a temporary dwelling. You may be laying your head in the same place every night but at some point that will end. So how do you see yourself?
“TENT DWELLER OR MANSION RESIDENT?”
Someday you are going to be a resident of that eternal mansion through faith in Christ as Savior and Lord but until then, well…”For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling.” (v. 2) Yes, we want to move out of the tent and into the permanent mansion that waits. But there’s a catch. Not everyone gets a glorious, eternal, permanent dwelling. Paul says, “If indeed by putting it on we may not be found naked.” (v. 3) You see, in eternity we will all receive what is due: either a permanent heavenly dwelling, our bodies glorified, or our bodies stripped bare of any heavenly glory. Some will be found naked.
Paul continues: “For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened – not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.” (v. 4) In the temporary dwelling of our body we groan from the weight and burden of sin. It weighs us down, ages our bodies, slows our step, creaks our bones, wrinkles our skin, sags our dwelling.
When we move into our permanent heavenly dwelling, the temporary tent in which we groan is not stripped away. Rather, it is further clothed; it is upgraded and perfected. It is swallowed up by life – eternal life, immortal life.
So why, in eternity, will some be found naked and others will be further clothed? Because we all must appear before the judgment seat. We will either receive a key to the glorious mansion or we will be left naked.
Does that mean that in order to inherit the heavenly mansion we must do good in the body? Are we really judged and awarded by what we do? How do we know, on our personal scale of justice, the good things we’ve done outweigh the sinful things?
What about unintentional sins? Remember saying something without thinking and hurting someone? They don’t count, do they? It wasn’t intentional.
What about neglecting someone who needed help? You ignored it. Does that count as something bad in the body? Hey, we’re fooling ourselves. The answer is we can never do enough good in the body to receive the glorious heavenly dwelling. We all fall short of the glory of God. So then how can we receive it?
Paul gives the answer. “He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee.” (v. 5) Left to our own, we cannot do good things. Christ has done it by taking our sin, our evil deeds, into his body. He conquered our sin on the cross within his body. All that is left for us is our good deeds, which are done through the Spirit as a guarantee.
“So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight.” (v. 6-7) In faith we see that Christ takes all our sins of hurtful words and neglect away through His death and resurrection. In faith we see that heavenly dwelling waiting for us.
By about age 15 I was getting a little tired of camping. I wanted a hotel room. Cable TV, indoor pool, no critter noises at night. Then the Lord intervened. We were camping somewhere in the southeast and had a large rain one night. The roof of the tent must have had a leak because my sister woke up all red. She was in a red sleeping bag and the rain had dripped on her. Some of our clothes and camping gear also got wet. The next night we were going to be in Atlanta, Georgia. My parents came to their senses and we found a hotel room – it was the heavenly mansion I had been waiting for. Tenting since then has been less than ten times.
I look at the heavenly mansion waiting for me the same way. Rain is going to fall, things are going to wet and uncomfortable, but the dwelling is only temporary. We dwell in our tent, but that is all we do. Our heavenly home is where we make our eternal residence. For me it is a hotel room in Atlanta, Georgia. What is it for you?
Live in the assurance – of good courage, Paul says – that this temporary dwelling, in which we groan, will be replaced by an eternal heavenly dwelling. It will be! See you there.
Amen.