At Home Away From Home Heaven Series: Part Six
At Home Away From Home Heaven Series: Part Six
Read 2 Corinthians 5:1-10
The apostle Paul speaks of heaven in many places, but no greater place than here in 2 Corinthians. In 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 we saw that heaven was the place that the languishing souls of the people of God longed for. “We do not lose heart,” the apostle Paul said, precisely because we have this life of heaven already begun in our hearts. And we expect it, despite our bodies wasting away. Our inner nature—that which is “inside of us,” hidden from us—is renewed day by day, transformed from glory to glory. And although we suffer much in this life, Paul can say amazingly that our sufferings (and he speaks as one who suffered so much more than we ever will suffer) and “this slight momentary affliction” is actually being used by God, preparing for us an eternal (not momentary) weight of glory (not light or slight). And it is beyond all comparison.
Here Paul picks up speaking about heaven. He is speaking as the suffering apostle, remember! The super-apostles, as they call themselves, were saying that the apostle Paul was no apostle because of his sufferings. And as I said, we hear that in our own culture. We hear that in so-called Christian churches that say if you do not have enough faith, you will not be healed, and if you are not healed of some sickness or disease, or if you are poor, just maybe you are not even a child of God in the first place. But Paul says that his own body is a testimony of his apostleship. He shared in the sufferings of his Lord Jesus Christ; he bore in his own body the marks of the death of Christ. “Therefore, we do not lose heart.” The suffering apostle is an example for us as he says, “Follow my example, even as I follow Christ.” He speaks to us as suffering, languishing, destitute, weak, mortal, frail.
So he continues where we left off here in 2 Corinthians 5. They really go together. He begins, notice, using some interesting metaphors. As we think about what he says here, we think about heaven being like a home. So our sermon title is At Home Away from Home. And “home” is used in two senses in our text. So heaven is being at home away from home. Of course, while we are in this home, we are away from that home, and we long to be in that home while we are even in this home (the body, that is). Now, think with me about heaven as home away from home.
The Destruction of our Earthly Home⤒🔗
In the first place, the apostle speaks about its destruction (verse 1). The destruction not of heaven, not of the resurrection body, not of eternity, but he uses “home” in that simplest of senses: our mortal flesh, our bodies, our dwelling place. Its destruction.
For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.2 Corinthians 5:1, ESV
He speaks here about the body as a tent, the tent which is our earthly home. And again, he comes back to that theme in verse 4: “For while we are still in this tent, we groan.” Why does the apostle speak about our mortality, our frailty, our bodies as tents? Because a tent, as you can imagine it, is transient. If you have a tent, there is a reason that you have a tent. It is because you are away from home. You are on a camping trip. You are a temporary place. It is transient. It is also frail. A tent cannot withstand the elements of the earth. Eventually it will be knocked over, destroyed, worn away by the wind, by the sun, by the rain, whatever it might be. So Paul uses this as a wonderful metaphor for the body of the Christian. It is our earthly home. Our bodies are mortal. They are frail. They are weak. They are transient even, in a sense.
And he speaks about our bodies as a tent invoking Old Testament imagery. Do you remember where the Old Testament uses the imagery of tents? Think about the tabernacle: It was a large tent. As Israel dwelt in the wilderness, there was this great large tent in the very centre of their camp, and they all camped around it. As they were in the wilderness worshipping the Lord in a tent, they were longing for the land and to worship in a temple. Wilderness and tent are themes that speak about the transient nature of life, being pilgrims and wanderers and sojourners and vagabonds.
Hebrews 11:8ff. describes for us that Abraham himself dwelt in tents in a land that was not his own. He was looking for a city “whose builder and maker is God”: imagery and language that is very close to what Paul says here. Abraham dwelt in tents; he longed for a city. A tent is transient; he desired something that was built by God himself.
And then he says this (speaking about our futility and our frailty): “If the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed…” (verse 1). Or even it may be translated “dismantled.” It is used in ancient texts to describe the setting up of a tent, and by implication, the tearing down of a tent. He is describing the frailty of life, the temporary nature of it. It comes and it goes. We are like the grass that is blown upon. We are like the dust. We are like worms. We are frail and mortal, and we will die. Our bodies are like tents. They will be dismantled.
If they are dismantled though, notice what he says so amazingly. He is speaking about this life, keep in mind. Our bodies which now exist, this tent which is our earthly home, if it is taken down/dismantled/destroyed (if we die is what he is saying), “we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens” (verse 1). Here is a statement of faith beyond all statements! We have present tents. If and when we die, we will go to be with the Lord, as he says here. But already we can claim the truth of the life everlasting, so that we can say now already in this tent, “We have a dwelling that God himself has made for us!” That is a future reality, remember. Here we are as tents. We are waiting for that city, that building, that permanence, that dwelling place of God. And he says we can say now, in this life, that we have a dwelling, a building, a permanent place, a permanent existence. We will experience it, and it is such a truth and reality for us in the future that he uses present tense for it now! He says that we have it!
Of course he can say that (as we see in verse 5), because we have the Holy Spirit within our hearts. He is the guarantee. He is the beginning of everlasting life. He is the down-payment of it (as we will see in a moment). It is amazing that he can say this! He is speaking about future glories—what we anticipate, desire, long for eagerly. We can say that we already have this dwelling place! It is the same type of language Paul used in Romans 8, where he says in verses 29 and 30 (that golden chain of salvation) that having been foreknown he predestined us, having been predestined he called us, having called us he justified us, and having been justified he glorified us. We have not been glorified….we are tents! Glorification is a future reality. But yet, it is so certain, it is so fixed and true that Paul says in Romans 8:29-30 that it is as if God has already glorified us! It is a done deal for the child of God.
And so it is for us as these tent dwellers, these transient sojourners. If we die, we have already now awaiting us a building from God! Notice the metaphor: tents and a building. One is earthly; one is heavenly. That is why he says one is made not with hands; it is eternal in the heavens. One is a tent and is transient; one is a building and it is firm, it is fixed, and it is permanent. One is here upon this earth, and one is awaiting us in the heavens. One is “earthly,” it is frail, it is mortal, it is human; one is made not with hands, but is made by God himself, his own hands.
So Paul describes this existence—being here at home, in this home away from our ultimate home—in the first place in terms of its destruction. If our tent is toppled, we have awaiting us a permanent residency, a permanent dwelling and existence in the heavens. Eternal, not temporary! Heavenly, not earthly! Permanent, not transient!
Our Desire for Our Heavenly Home←⤒🔗
Then in second place, he describes the desire of heaven. This being the case—that we are these tent dwelling people in our bodies—he then describes our desire for home, our desire for heaven. If we are in tents, just like Abraham, we are looking for something more permanent. Notice the metaphors are mixed somewhat with a shift. The metaphors of a tent and house (temporary and permanence—“For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling”). And then in verse 3 and 4 he changes the metaphor. He speaks about being clothed and then being “overclothed.” There is a clothing (that is our body), but he is longing for this “overcoat”—to be dressed with something greater. He describes that as being “swallowed up by life.” He describes our death as being some somewhat unclothed, but our heavenly dwelling as being overclothed. A robe of righteousness enveloping, swallowing up mortality with eternal life.
And we groan for this, he says in verse four. We groan for it. We are burdened in this life and its sufferings. We groan for it. “Not that we would be unclothed”: here he is using Greek terms that were used in the Greek philosophical realm. They describe the body as the prison house of the soul. “If we could just get away from these bodies, things would be wonderful. If we could just get out of this physical existence, if we could just be spiritual, things would be fine and dandy.” They described the body as inherently evil, because it is physical and mortal and tangible and earthly. They described spirits as being inherently good, because it is immaterial and spiritual.
Paul, though, plays it on its own head. “For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we would be unclothed.” [He is speaking about how] the Greek philosophers described it: to leave this prison of the body, to be unclothed, and to be pure and naked before God. But notice that is not to be unclothed (not that our spirit would be released from this body), “but that we would be further clothed.” The body is like clothing; it “envelops” us. And Paul describes it not that we want to leave this body, but that we want to be clothed even more, so that what is mortal and what dies may be swallowed up by life.
Groaning, longing, desiring, deeply burdened and troubled: Have we sensed that for ourselves? Is that our confidence? Is that our confession? Is that our desire? Not that we would be naked, leaving this life, but is it our confession to be clothed in a further way by immortality? As Paul described in 1 Corinthians 15: That which is so mortal becomes immortal, and that which is sown in weakness is raised in glory. Is that our hope? This is so difficult for us. Here we are living in the greatest civilization the world has ever known—the most blessed, the most prosperous, the most outwardly successful—and here Paul writes to us, and we must somehow enter into these texts. This text must become ours somehow. I don't know how that is going to happen, but it has to. I don't know how we enter into its life, but Paul says we must. We must with the apostle be burdened by this life—its struggles, its sufferings, our sin, our unrighteousness.
Are we tired of sinning? Are we tired of praying that confession every single Sunday morning—not because it is a repetitious prayer, but because we are tired of praying about our sins? Do we desire heaven? Do we desire that house, that dwelling, that permanent place? Do we desire that clothing, being swallowed up by life? Do we desire to no longer have to say, “Only by faith do we believe this”? Are we tired of saying, “By faith I know that I am righteous”? But do we want to fully experience that, grasp that, feel that and see that? There is no more sin in that place, no more death, no more curse! As 2 Peter 3 says, in the new heaven and the new earth there is only righteousness. Do we desire to be those who have been imputed with Christ's righteousness, but also those who experience its consummation and its utter completion? To see it around us, to confess it, to praise Christ for it, to give him our own crown that he gave us in the first place? Because it is only of his righteousness that we are clothed and crowned and rewarded.
This home may be destroyed, but we have a home that is lasting that is awaiting us. It is our desire, Paul describes. And Paul like no one else can experience that desire. But yet we must too. We must groan; we must be burdened; we must long.
The Holy Spirit as Our Guarantee←⤒🔗
Then he says this is the case: we have a dwelling, we have a home, a permanent place. When we desire, our desire is not simply out there into the nothingness; our desire has a fixed permanent object. Our longing hits something, because (verse 5ff) of the down-payment of the Holy Spirit. The home that we have now in this life and the desire for a home in the life to come come together by the working of the Holy Spirit.
He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee.2 Corinthians 5:5, ESV
We might be tempted to question and we might ponder for a moment, “Why is this relevant Paul? Here you are describing heaven, and here you are describing the home of the body and the home of eternity, and here you are describing the longing for that and the desire and the groaning, and then you bring in the Holy Spirit? What does the Holy Spirit have to do with heaven?” God has prepared for us this being “swallowed up by life,” God has given us this desire to be further clothed, and he has given us this confidence to say we have now this eternal dwelling in the heavens not made with hands because we have the Spirit.
The Spirit is the principle of the everlasting life that we confess. In the resurrection (and in heaven itself even now), in the new heavens and new earth, in the consummate state, in the ultimate reality, it is the Spirit’s realm. It is the Spirit’s place. It is the Spirit who himself enlivens and vivifies that place—the Spirit that is granted to us by Christ, who is in heaven! Christ interjects this eternal gift, this principle of everlasting life, down into time and into space and into frail mortal people's hearts! Now in this life, heaven itself is not just a longing and a desire, is not merely a “not yet,” but is an “already”!
The link between eternity and time is the Spirit. The linkage between this longing for this eternal home and this tent that we languish in now is the Spirit! The down-payment. Here God himself comes to us. He does not ask us for a down-payment to get our mansion in the heavens; he gives us the down-payment, the earnest, the guarantee of eternity poured out into our hearts.
And this down-payment of the Holy Spirit, who links our desire in the body now for that desire for the ultimate state then, he is the reason why Paul can say in verse 6: “So we are always of good courage.” Although you do not feel, sense, see, touch or taste in any way whatsoever that heaven has already begun in your heart, we are of good courage. Although we do not see the fruits of our labours as the kingdom of God upon this earth, although we are small, although we are weak, although our numbers dwindle, we have this confidence. We have this courage. Although we long and we languish in this life, we have good courage, because of the Holy Spirit.
Although we see our sins and we confess those sins so often, although we discipline our children for their sins, and although we live and we reap the consequences of our own sins, we have good courage, because the Spirit is a guarantee. And so we are of good courage. We do take heart. We do not lose heart.
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. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him.2 Corinthians 5:6b-9, ESV
Here I take it in both ways: whether we are at home here and away from there, or whether we are home there and away from here. “We make it our aim to please him”: We see heaven in our tangible expressions of gratitude. We see the fruits of heaven already in the fruits of the Spirit. The fruit of heaven. We see those fruits, those evidences, those outward manifestations in the life of the body of Christ. Do you want to know why you must love your brother? Do you want to know why you ought to be hospitable? Do you want to know why you must share all the things that you have been given? Do you know why you want to encourage those who are downcast? Do you know why you should help others who are in need? It is because those good works come from the Spirit, who comes from heaven, and they show us in a real way the life of heaven itself, as a guarantee, as a down-payment, as a beginning of everlasting life.
So although we are away from the Lord, although we are at home in the body, although we desire to be at home with him and away from this life in its burdensomeness, although we desire to be further clothed over this mortality, to be swallowed up by life, all of this Paul, says, is because the Spirit as the guarantee links us to that place and gives us that desire and gives us that confidence that although our tent is destroyed and dismantled, we have that amazing dwelling in the heavens.
So Paul describes for us once again—in frail human terms and ways and metaphors and imagery and visual, tangible word pictures—something about heaven. But there is still more. There is still so much more beyond what we see, what we can speak and what even God has placed within us. But yet let us be content. Let us feed upon these words. Let us desire a permanent building like Abraham. Let us desire to be further clothed up by life and righteousness. And let us desire to walk in a way that is pleasing to the Lord as a heavenly people.
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