Keeping Your Lamp Ready for Christ’s Return

by Leslie Schmucker

In ancient Israel, when a man and a woman were to be married, they first were bound by a year-long betrothal, during which the husband and wife were legally joined, but the marriage was not consummated. Everyone knew when the year was up, the groom would, with much fanfare, return to the bride’s home and take her with him to the house he had prepared for her.

No one knew when the groom would return. It was his father who gave the go-ahead, and while the bride waited, she readied herself. She kept her bags packed and her lamp ready to go with an ample supply of oil. Unpreparedness would have implied complacency and lack of honor to the groom. For the couple, the betrothal year was spent in joyous and eager anticipation. 

We Are His Bride

In his parable of the ten virgins, Jesus used this imagery to describe the Kingdom of Heaven (Matthew 25:1-13). Waiting for the groom involved the bride and her attendants keeping an ample supply of oil to trim their lamps, in the event the groom returned at night. Dark lamps meant being shut out of the celebration. Dark lamps resulted in being left in the dark.

Throughout the gospels, Jesus used marriage as an allegory for his relationship to his church. Here, the church refers to the global body of followers of Jesus Christ, not a religious institution. If you believe that you are a sinner in need of a savior, and that Savior is Jesus Christ, you are his bride. 

The Promise of His Coming

More than two thousand years have passed since Jesus told that parable. His bride is still waiting. Many are asking the church, “Where is this messiah of yours? I think you may be mistaken.” I admit, more than once, I have been tempted to ask the same thing.

But Jesus is coming back. Based on the hundreds of prophecies and promises in the Bible that have already been fulfilled, there is no reason to believe otherwise.

So, how’s your lamp?

Five Ways to Keep Our Lamps Trimmed

John Piper describes the lamp as the trappings of Christianity— what some might call religion. “I go to church. I carry a Bible. I pray before meals. I try to keep the Ten Commandments.” The oil, Piper says, is “life, faith, hope, love, reality.” Trimming an empty lamp is foolishness. Empty religion is foolishness. And, as Piper explains, “A life of foolishness deepens foolishness.” 

Here are five ways, based on Piper’s description of the oil, to keep our lamps trimmed while we wait for Jesus’s return:

1. Life

We are given only one earthly life, and Christ would have us lose it completely. “Whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 16:25). 1 John 4:4 says anyone who follows Jesus Christ “belongs to God.” 

Jesus demands no less than our entire life, which is then “hidden with him” (Colossians 3:3).  When our life depicts the gospel, we are keeping our lamps trimmed. When the heavens dissolve, will you have been found  “alive together with Christ” (Ephesians 2:5)?

2. Faith

The level at which you seek to cultivate your relationship with God is indicative of your level of faith. Regularly reading scripture, being an active part of a Bible believing church, meeting regularly with fellow believers, and filling your mind with the things of God are the soil in which faith grows. 

Are you nourishing habits that produce an “assurance of things hoped for” and a “conviction of things unseen (Hebrews 11:1)?” When we consistently demonstrate a life of faith, we are keeping our lamps trimmed. When the heavens dissolve, will you have been found faithful?

3. Love

In Matthew 25, Jesus describes what it looks like to love in God’s economy.

For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me. As you did it to one of the least of these, my brothers, you did it to me. Matthew 25:35-36, 40

In other words, while you waited for my return, you loved. And in that love, you showed that you love me also. 

How are you loving in your sphere of influence? From motherhood to the mission field, when we love others we are keeping our lamps trimmed. When the heavens dissolve, will you have been found loving?

4. Hope

Romans 8:24 says we were saved in hope. But not the kind of hope that we have when we hope the weather will cooperate for our vacation, or the hope that the adoption we so longed for will come through. Christian hope is a sure hope. It is an eager anticipation of a secure future with Christ, as adopted children and heirs to his throne. It is a hope without wondering if. 

To what extent do you anticipate the return of Jesus Christ? Have you allowed complacency to dull your sense of hope? When we possess a sense of eager expectation, we are keeping our lamps trimmed. When the heavens dissolve, will you have been found fervently hoping for the appearance of Christ?

5. Reality

The hope in which we live is “folly to those who are perishing” (1 Corinthians 1:18). But this hope in which we live is more real than anything our senses can apprehend in the temporal world. 

C.S. Lewis became a Christian while seeking to debunk Christianity. But in the end, after extensive research meant to affirm his atheism, he concluded, “Heaven is reality itself. All that is fully real is Heavenly. For all that can be shaken will be shaken and only the unshakeable remains.” 

Does your life reflect your belief in the reality of heavenly things? When we regard heaven as more real than earth, we are keeping our lamps trimmed. When the heavens dissolve, will you be found to have been grounded in the reality of the gospel?

Jesus is coming. Today or thousands of years from now, the Giver of oil has an endless supply to ready his bride for his impending return. May we all keep our lamps trimmed.

Leslie Schmucker

Leslie Schmucker (@LeslieSchmucker) retired from public school teaching to create a special needs program at Dayspring Christian Academy in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. She and her husband Steve have three grown children and seven grandchildren.

Posted at: https://ftc.co/resource-library/blog-entries/keeping-your-lamp-ready-for-christs-return/

Burn Your Boats: A Warning About FOMO

Article by Aimee Joseph

Columba was a sixth-century abbot who left his native Ireland with 12 men to bring the good news to the Picts, a pagan people in Scotland. The missionaries founded an abbey on Iona, which would become a vibrant center of literacy and faith for centuries to come.

But shortly after reaching Scotland in an animal-hide-wrapped wicker boat, Columba did something drastic. He knew he and his companions might be tempted to leave when life became uncomfortable or dangerous. And so, the story goes, Columba burned the boat.

After reading about this single-minded commitment, I’ve began noticing how, by contrast, I like to keep my options open, just in case.

One of the hallmarks of my generation is an aversion to commitment. We suffer perpetual FOMO (fear of missing out) and, more seriously, struggle to commit to a marriage or a career. In a world full of potential paths, we have a hard time picking one and remaining on it.

Let Me First Bury My Dad

But while the fear of commitment is trendy, it’s nothing new. Jesus himself engaged would-be disciples with similar struggles:

He said, “Follow me.” But [the man] said, “Lord, let me first go and bury my father.” . . . Yet another said, “I will follow you, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” (Luke 9:59, 61).

While these requests may sound understandable, it’s helpful to know that the first man’s father may not have been dead—or even close to dead. In the culture of the day, “Let me bury my father” was often used in an idiomatic way to express, “Let me get my family and personal life in order.” Put in 21st-century terms, it might sound something like, “I’m interested in following Jesus more seriously, but first I want to find a spouse and get some traction in my career.”

One of the most common phrases I hear from would-be disciples on college campuses carries a hint of that first-century hesitation: “When I have children of my own, I’ll make Christianity a bigger part of my life.”

When called to Christ, we sometimes want to hedge our bets, to buy ourselves a little more time. But such responses—even when expressed warmly and kindly—reveal a heart not captured by the wonder that the God of the universe is personally inviting us to himself.

Don’t Look Back

Both men in Luke 9 have a desire to follow but a reluctance to commit. Jesus’s respective responses bear particular poignancy in our FOMO culture:

Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God. (Luke 9:60)

No one who puts his hands to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God. (Luke 9:62)

Jesus didn’t mince words, nor did he lessen the cost of discipleship. He didn’t lower the bar or paint a rosy picture of a life spent following and proclaiming him. He didn’t alter the truth to expand his audience or make a hard pill more palatable to swallow.

Jesus was in the business of full disclosure. But he also knew the sweetness and rewards of a life centered on him would far exceed the inconvenience and discomfort.

In essence, when we decide to follow Jesus, we must burn—and keep burning!—the boat. Tensions and temptations will meet us on this path. We’ll be tempted to look back, and turn back, to an easier way of life. But from the outset, Jesus summons us to commit to him.

Burn the Boats

Columba and his crew had to burn the vessels that might have tempted them to escape back to the familiarity of kin and country. Likewise, each new disciple of Christ has a boat (or fleet of boats) that might lead back to a life more lucrative, more culturally celebrated, or simply more comfortable.

For some, a former relationship that trumped Christ is the boat that beckons backward. For others, the approval of unbelieving family continually whispers, Don’t be a religious fanatic. Loosen your grip on Christ, just a bit. Often in our money-minded culture, the boats that demand burning would drift us back to a more padded retirement fund or some financial frivolity.

Whatever their shape or style, any boats that lead us away from following Christ must be burned as often as they’re built. While this sounds overwhelming and almost impossible, remember that the One who asks for a commitment to himself, his Word, and his ways has also fully committed himself to us.

Committed to Us

Before we were born, before time was wound, the Son of God was committed. He knew he would leave it all so we could have it all in him. Even now, he gives us his Spirit to work within us, coaching, convicting, and comforting.

When we have Christ, we have not missed out on anything. We have gained everything.

By his grace and his power, may we burn the boats that might take us back to a comfortable and cross-less life. May we fix our eyes on him who has gone before us (Heb. 12:1–2). And may we find courage in his constant commitment to us: “Behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matt. 28:20).

Related:

• Why Christmas Is the Antidote to FOMO (Sam Allberry)

Aimee Joseph works alongside her husband, G’Joe, who directs Campus Outreach San Diego. They love watching college students brought from lost to leaders through Christ in the church for the world. Parenting three little boys keeps her busy; writing on her blogand studying the Word keep her sane. She has a passion to see women trained to love God and his Word.

Posted at: https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/burn-boats-warning-fomo/

Get Your Eternal Vision Checked

Article by Alex Tunnicliff

Humans are eternity-forgetters.

In the everyday throes of life, eternity can so easily fade into the background. Eternity shrinks, and we forget—or almost deny—our mortality.

If you are a church-planting pastor, beware this deadly reality. If we don’t intentionally bring eternity to the forefront of our minds, we may lose the weight of it altogether. When eternity is forgotten, we become enamored with what is temporary.

And for all our efforts, we’ll be left with temporary churches filled with temporary preaching of a temporary word that will, at best, push people to temporary change. In the meantime, we’re left to build temporary kingdoms that quickly crumble, all the while accumulating for ourselves a temporary following who will celebrate us only to eventually turn to the next Twitter feed once ours grows cold.

Ministry is hard, and church planting can feel impossible. Motivation and adrenaline rooted in the temporal will only get us so far.

Ministry is hard, and church planting can feel impossible. Motivation and adrenaline rooted in the temporal will only get us so far.

If we want to make it in church planting, we must have eyes to see beyond the temporary to the horizon of eternity.

Eternity Changed

More than 2,000 years ago, a cosmic battle was waged and won. Eternal destinies were changed. Christ’s death and resurrection paved the way to eternity. God’s people will one day joyfully celebrate his glory for all eternity. This is why we plant churches.

This may seem like a strange reminder, but it’s a necessary one. The everyday stuff of church planting can be overwhelming: raising money, training up elders, counseling the hurting, looking for a location, shaping vision, and forecasting financial viability.

These temporal realities can blur our vision, making us lose sight of the fact that planting churches is an eternal endeavor. Ten thousand years from now, your church—Christ’s bride—will only have begun to magnify his glory. For now we see the shadows, but the fullness is coming.

If we want to make it in church planting, we must have eyes to see beyond the temporary to the horizon of eternity.

In light of this reality, there is a certain glory that shines even in the mundane. Monday morning has eternal implications. And when the weight of eternity meets with the mundane of Monday, it will transform all that is menial in church planting.

After all, we’re heading toward a wedding where we’ll enjoy a feast with our King. No more dimly-lit mirrors, no more broken shadows, no more sin. We will look across the table and see him as he is.

Therefore, what you do today actually matters, and it will still matter a few million years from now. The church you are planting is headed toward eternity.

But eternity will not only shape your motivations, it will anchor your soul.

Eternity Gained

It was Easter Sunday, and I’d just preached on the resurrection. I got a text message from my brother-in-law waiting for me after the second service.

We’d just hired him and his wife to plant a church. They’d moved to the Upper Peninsula to plant in one of the area’s most difficult places. It took months of planning, praying, and searching to find someone willing to embark on this mission.

But I noticed that he and my sister were not at either service that morning, and his text provided the explanation: Anne was in the emergency room, and it was cancer.

Eight short days later, the Good Shepherd ushered her home. He led her through the valley of shadows and death. That valley is not foreign to him; he’s been there before. And because Jesus lives, so does she.

Anne was a faith-filled lover of the gospel who’d come to the middle of nowhere to help plant a church in a place few know about.

And now she’s gone.

In these moments, how fast our church is or isn’t growing, how many people like my sermons, or how strategic my five-year plan appears fall to the periphery. In these moments, eternity takes center stage; it magnifies what’s important and reveals what’s not.

Eternal Anchor

So while eternity will shape your motivation, it will also anchor your soul when the billows roll.

Eternity reminds us what’s at stake. We’re planting eternal churches made of eternal image bearers; we proclaim an eternal gospel; Jesus Christ will usher in an eternal kingdom; we will worship full of eternal joy; and our eternally worthy King will be praised forever.

Ten thousand years from now, your church—Christ’s bride—will only have begun to magnify his glory.

We, as church-planting pastors, are privileged to play a role in this work of wonder God is doing. We’re wrapped up in the greatest story in all the world. And it’s a story that doesn’t end.

So look to the horizon. The King is there. Eternity is with him. Crushed enemies lie strewn at his feet. There’s a smile on his face as he comes for his bride.

Alex Tunnicliff is the lead pastor for preaching and teaching at Redemption Hill in Kingsford, Michigan. He and his wife, Melissa, have two children and another due in early July. They live in Iron Mountain, Michigan.

Article posted at:  https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/get-eternal-vision-checked/