Eternal Gift

By: Everett Vander Horst

Scripture Reading: 2 Corinthians 5:16-21

March 30th, 2008

One of our favorite shows to watch together as a family is Extreme Home Makeover. You may have heard about it. On this popular reality TV show, a deserving family gets the surprise of a lifetime. While they are whisked off to a fancy resort for a week—long luxurious vacation, a team of designers and construction workers descends upon their small and deteriorating home, and transforms it into a mansion like nothing they could ever imagine. It’s always priceless to see the looks on their faces, the tears of joy and to hear them express their gratitude for the gift of a new home.

We sit at home, watch that show and think, wouldn’t it be great if someone would come and do that for us? Knock down our house and transform our living space into a castle? It would be wonderful to have a fresh start with a new luxury home—an extreme home makeover.

Good as that might be, the Bible talks about a transformation that’s even greater—an extreme life makeover. Who has not looked over their life and thought, "I need a new start, a do—over. All around me all kinds of people are doing great things, making a positive impact, changing the world. A generous child donates money he’s been saving to give another child a pair of glasses and a ministry of donated glasses is established in a poor neighborhood. A woman welcomes a homeless mother and her child into her home, and later a shelter is started. A doctor gives himself over to the work of helping the poor in Haiti, and his clinic becomes a model for other projects across the globe. Why can’t I be a part of something like that?" When we look at ourselves, at our own life, many of us have a tendency to be disappointed.

In the Bible, however, we discover startling good news. Paul, a follower of Jesus Christ and an evangelist of the gospel, says this: "If anyone is in Christ, he or she is a new creation. The old has gone, the new has come!" That means all those who have given their lives over to Jesus Christ are no longer defined by their sin, by their brokenness—even though we are all sinners, even though we all bear and feel guilt about the wrongs things we’ve done and the good deeds we’ve left undone. Paul says that for all who are in Christ, the past is behind us.

And we are made new. Remember what Paul said: Not only has the old gone, but the new has come. Has come! It’s a statement in the past tense. That means our ‘newness’ in Christ is not only a future reality, kept in heaven for our eternal life, it has begun! Think about what that means. When our Father looks down from his throne, searching the face of the earth for us, his children, busy at work or out playing, he sees our newness in Christ, not our brokenness from sin. The old is gone, the new has come! That has profound implications for how we are to see the world in which we live.

In 1988, a failed effort at attaching two train cars left Polish railway worker Jan Grzebski with massive head injuries. The damage was so extensive that Grzebski slipped into a deep coma, and doctors told his wife, Gertruda, to expect the worst.

Gertruda, however, was undeterred by the doctors’ opinions concerning her husband’s fate. She dutifully cared for Jan each day he was comatose, carefully shifting his position in bed every hour and planning meaningful visits by assorted family members.

Nineteen years later, in May of last year, Jan finally woke up. And what did he notice after having been "asleep" for 19 years?

A great deal. Consider that just one year into his comatose state, Communism fell all throughout Europe. He fell asleep in communist Poland, and regained consciousness almost two decades later to find democracy and a market economy.

Jan said this: "When I went into a coma there was only tea and vinegar in the shops, meat was rationed and huge gasoline lineups were everywhere. Now I see people on the streets with cell phones and there are so many goods in the shops it makes my head spin." Grzebski also awoke to find his four children had all married and that he had become a grandfather 11 times over.

He says he now lives in an entirely different world. Gertruda says, "He was amazed to see the colorful streets, the goods. He says the world is prettier now."

Like this Polish railway worker, we too, when we recognize the blessings we have in Christ, we look at the world with the eyes of one who has been born again. It’s like being wakened from a coma. We see the world in a whole new light.

We are already a part of the new creation. When we focus on the negatives, either those of our world or those of our own hearts, we can easily remain asleep to an extraordinary renewal process. Jesus said, in Revelation, to the apostle John: "Behold I am making all things new." We are new creatures. The beginning of the new earth starts with us!

This is an extraordinary gift given to us. Yes, make no mistake; this newness of life is not something we can claim credit for. As Paul says, "All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ." The good news is that this newness of life does not depend on us, or our ability to re—create ourselves. New life is what God offers to us.

And what does this new life look like? In another one of his letters, written to the Christians in the city of Colossae, Paul says "you have taken off your old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator." Paul says we are becoming more like God in who we are; specifically, we become more and more like Jesus. And that’s exactly what discipleship is all about.

In the time of Jesus, there were many disciples following many teachers. To be a disciple was to be dedicated to learning the teachings of your rabbi. To do that, you would join the rabbi as he traveled from town to town, listening to him teach small crowds of interested listeners, and advise individuals looking for some godly insight or wisdom into a personal challenge.

But being a disciple meant more than learning how to teach what the rabbi taught. It meant seeking to become just like the rabbi in every aspect of his life and being. You’d observe the way the rabbi interacted with others, the way he would carry himself in public, the way he would walk and talk. The goal was to become the rabbi—in every sense of the word, to be his representative wherever you went. To be him, in the flesh.

So think again what was and is meant when we call ourselves or someone else a disciple of Jesus. It means we are becoming like Jesus. It means we will be found saying the same kinds of things he said, behaving the way he behaved, and doing the things he did.

Now, that’s a truly extreme life makeover. The home makeovers we have watched on TV pale in comparison. It’s more like the transformation of the old Charles Street Jail in Boston, which used to be home to some of the city’s most notorious citizens. Among its former inmates was Frank Abagnale Jr., the con artist played by Leonardo DiCaprio in the film, "Catch Me If You Can." Built in 1851, the jail was considered one of the most advanced prisons in the world. But by the 1960’s the jail was overcrowded, dirty and its population was prone to rioting. The building was condemned in 1973, though the last prisoners were not transferred out until 1990.

Seventeen years and $150 million dollars later, the Charles Street jail is now Liberty Hotel, which boasts luxury accommodations that cost from $300 to $5,500 per night. With restaurants named Clink and Scampo (that is, the Italian word for "escape") and a bar named Alibi, designers celebrate the building’s past.

Former inmate Bill Baird visited the hotel on the 40th anniversary of his arrest and was amazed at the renovation. "How you could take something that was so horrible," he observed, "and turn it into something of tremendous beauty, I don’t know."

In the same way, the transformation of sinners into Christ—like saints seems impossible. But again, consider what the apostle Paul has to say: "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" Remember, Paul went through a remarkable, radical transformation himself.

He grew up a Pharisee, that is, a member of a sect within Judaism that was focused on a strict interpretation of the Hebrew Bible. As a Pharisee, Paul believed that the Jews were God’s chosen people, called to be holy—set apart from the other nations and dedicated to God. He believed that what we now know as the Old Testament was God’s full revelation of himself and his will. He also believed that true and lasting reconciliation with God was not humanly possible, and so the best second choice option was to continuously seek to appease the wrath of God through sacrifices at the temple and strict observance of Jewish religious law.

But the Pharisees believed that obedience was not merely an individual matter. God related to Israel as a nation, a community of people. So obedience was a communal responsibility. That meant that one sinner in the crowd could adversely affect the lives of everyone else in the community. No wonder the Pharisees were so concerned to make sure that everyone else, in addition to them, observed the laws as closely and carefully as possible. That’s the kind of thinking Paul had in mind when he says, "I used to judge as the world judged."

He looked at others to see whether or not they were with the Pharisee program; he judged them, in his eyes, for the sake of communal security and prosperity. And he also judged Jesus Christ by the same measuring stick. The pre—conversion Paul saw in Jesus of Nazareth a controversial itinerant rabbi, with a few not so promising disciples, accused of insurrection of some kind, and executed.

That was bad enough. But then for his followers to have the audacity to proclaim this crucified country rabbi to be the promised messiah—the coming and chosen one, post mortem…? It was to him highly offensive, that one so low and demeaned could be hailed as the messiah. And so Paul the evangelizing Apostle started out as Paul the persecuting Pharisee.

By the time he wrote this letter to the Corinthians, that was no longer the case. He had discovered who Christ really was. He had come to realize the significance of Christ’s death; as he says in verse 14 of 2 Corinthians 5, "Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all." This brought Paul to see others in a much different light: sinners were no longer to him liabilities to communal well being, but lost people, people who needed to know and kneel before the Savior.

Paul came to see, and teach, the second half of the truth we need to know as disciples today: reconciliation with God is a gift and a task. As I said earlier, being right with God, made new in the image of Christ, this is what God does for us. It’s a done deal, God’s work. Again, as Paul wrote, "God made him who had no sin to be sin for us," yes, and did it, "so that in him we might become the righteousness of God."

Yet he also directs us to see the need for us to be a part of his reconciling ministry. Hear the passion in Paul’s writing; he’s literarily taking the Corinthians by their shirts:

God "has committed to us the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God. God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. As God’s fellow workers we urge you not to receive God’s grace in vain."

Paul says God is calling us to be his ambassadors. What’s an ambassador? It is a representative that speaks on behalf of a ruler, a nation, a greater power. The ambassador is the flesh and bones presence of that power in a different part of the world. It’s a vitally important role that is lived out waking and sleeping, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. As the spokesperson for a nation, an ambassador must never forget who he or she represents.

While he was serving as Secretary of State during the Reagan administration, George Shultz kept a large globe in his office. When newly appointed ambassadors had an interview with him, Shultz would test them. He would say, "Go over to the globe and prove to me that you can identify your country." They would go over, spin the globe, and put their finger on the country to which they were sent——unerringly.

When Shultz’s old friend and former Senate majority leader Mike Mansfield was appointed ambassador to Japan, even he was put to the test. This time, however, Ambassador Mansfield spun the globe and put his hand on the United States. He said: "That’s my country."

Schultz later wrote, "I’ve told that story, subsequently, to all the ambassadors going out. Never forget you’re over there in that country, but your country is the United States. You’re there to represent us. Take care of our interests and never forget it."

That’s a great way for Christians in every tribe, land and nations to understand their own identity in the world. Ambassadors of Christ, that’s our calling, that’s our ministry. We are the hands and feet of Jesus Christ, present in the world. When the church is identified as the body of Christ, it’s no mere metaphor. We are here to be directed by our head, to do the work he had done while among us.

This work, this ministry, is done in many ways. Recently my own church in Grand Rapids Michigan set aside what we called ’10 Days of Jubilee’, named after the instructions God gave to the people of Israel in Leviticus 25. In those ten days, we set aside all the regular ministries of the church. We cancelled all meetings of the administrative board, the council and various committees. Regular small group meetings were not held. It was a time of Sabbath rest for the church, but not a rest from ministry altogether.

In the Year of Jubilee which Israel was directed to celebrate every 50 years, farmers were to let their lands rest. Much of the regular work and the rhythms of the economy were set aside, with one purpose: to lift up the poor, to re—integrate the disenfranchised, to welcome home all those on the margins of society. It was a year of restoration ministry for the people of God.

With similar purposes, we as a church laid aside our regular rhythms of church life to turn all our attention outward, and to seek to be a blessing to the poor and marginalized in our own city. In those ten days we were blessed to be used of God in a variety of ways. The church school classes visited a homeless shelter downtown. A women’s bible study group put on a meal at the Ronald McDonald House. The church choir held their practice session at a nearby apartment building populated with many residents on public assistance. The choir not only provided music, they also brought snacks to share with the residents, and had the common room piano tuned! My wife Christa and I took our kids out with a group of families to volunteer with the Salvation Army. We and others distributed towels, washcloths and other gifts to people who had need of them.

This season of ministry with hands and feet, these ten days of jubilee, was for us a part of the ministry of reconciliation that has been entrusted to us, as the church of Jesus Christ. For we all knew that serving our city in this way, while it did not end poverty in our community, was a reminder that we are to be about the work of reconciliation every day of our lives, for we are a Jubilee people.

What does that mean? Well, we follow Jesus, and he himself was, in his ministry and in his person, the fulfillment of those Old Testament laws about Jubilee. He came to bind up the broken hearted and to set the captive free. And we follow Jesus, doing as he did, serving as he served. Following Jesus makes us a Jubilee people. .

But of course, this ministry goes further. The ministry of reconciliation is also a ministry of the Word. People need to hear the good news, not only that they will eat tonight, or have a safe, warm place to sleep, but that God is seeking them, has the doors open for them, and is standing in the doorway with his arms wide open. This is the reconciliation message entrusted to us. This is the message God wants us to get out. To keep it to ourselves is not acceptable.

A little while ago I read about a young man who applied for a job as an usher at a movie theater in the mall. As part of the interview, the theatre manager asked him, "What would you do if a fire breaks out?"

The young guy answered, "Don’t worry about me. I’d get out okay."

That’s how we tend to respond sometimes. We hear the question, "What would you do if Jesus came back tomorrow?" We respond, "Oh, don’t worry about me. I’d be okay." But you’re an usher! It isn’t enough just to get out yourself. You are responsible for helping others get out.

Hear the good news. God has given us new life—he is remaking us to be more and more like Jesus Christ. But he does this for a purpose that we might take up the ministry that Jesus did. So we are called into an exciting life of ministry, with the God given potential to be change agents for his kingdom:

"God is reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting men’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us."

Won’t you pray with me?

Prayer

Lord Jesus Christ, we are and will forever be grateful for your ministry of reconciliation among us. Through you our sins have been forgiven, and we are being remade in your image. Thank you too for calling us to be ambassadors of your ministry of reconciliation. Help us to see that the Christian life is one of ministry, of doing what Jesus did, of following where Jesus leads. Empower us by your Spirit to see the need around us and respond, to hear the quiet resignation of despair, and respond. May we truly be your body here on earth. In your name and for your kingdom we pray, amen.

About the Author

Everett Vander Horst

Everett Vander Horst is the senior pastor at Shawnee Park Christian Reformed Church, in Grand Rapids, Michigan. He and his wife Christa have been married for 14 years, and have 3 children: Laura (10), Eric (7) and Jason (5). A Canadian, Everett grew up on a dairy farm in southwestern Ontario. After graduating from Calvin Theological Seminary in 1996, he and Christa moved to British Columbia where Everett was ordained as pastor in the Telkwa Christian Reformed Church. They took the call to Shawnee Park CRC in 2001. When he is not pastoring, Everett enjoys digital photography, fishing as well as building toys and furniture in his basement woodshop.

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