Back in the 1950s, humanity entered into a great age of space exploration as the United States and the Soviet Union battled to be first to the moon. It seems to me that we are now entering into a second great age of space exploration as billionaires battle it out to see who can be first to establish a permanent outpost in space.

We don’t need to push our minds too hard to imagine a scenario in which one of these billionaires announces he is establishing a new nation somewhere beyond earth. We might imagine him making an announcement and saying, “This world is falling apart, the earth is collapsing under the weight of war and epidemic and pollution, so we are going to start over. We are putting out the call to help create Humanity 2.0. Join me as I found the Kingdom of Space.”
The billionaire who is founding this state might explain something like this: “This new nation will be better and greater than any nation or any civilization in the whole history of mankind. Because we are going to recreate humanity, we need to ensure we bring along only the best of the best—only the sharpest minds, only the most impressive personalities, only the most beautiful bodies, only the most accomplished individuals. We need the wise, the winsome, the winners, the well-to-do so together we can fulfill our potential and become all humanity can be. Come to me all who are mighty and self-sufficient. Bring in the rich and the beautiful, the impressive and the accomplished.”
Jesus, too, has founded a kingdom—the kingdom of heaven—and his kingdom could hardly be more different. It’s a kingdom where the call goes out to the low instead of the high. Its king says “come to me all who are weary and heavy laden,” and “bring in the poor and crippled and blind and lame.” But even that’s not enough. He sends his emissaries to the halfway houses and drop-in centers and group homes and says, “Bring them all in!” If the human instinct is to build a kingdom upon those who are strong and mighty, impressive and successful, God’s instinct is to build a kingdom upon those who are weak and lowly, who are meek and merciful.
Keeping these two perspectives in mind, let me present you with two different visions for humanity. Let’s imagine now that our billionaire is ready to blast off to begin his Kingdom of Space. He has chosen the cream of the human crop to accompany him, and now together they are parading toward the great ship will that take them to their new nation.
At the head of the parade is our billionaire himself. He sits tall, proud, and resplendent in an open-roofed limousine. The crowds cry out their praise to this champion among men. Behind him come a whole host of winners of the Nobel Prize, each of them displaying their medal. Behind them walk the founders of the world’s great corporations carrying huge stacks of their money. Next are kings and queens, holding the scepters of their power. Next are athletes clutching their trophies, musicians displaying their awards, actors holding their Oscars and Emmys. It is a parade of the powerful and beautiful, the wealthy and accomplished, the influential and formidable. The crowds stand and applaud as these great people parade by. And soon enough they rise to the stars to found their new nation. But what they don’t know is that their kingdom, too, will end, for though it may be a kingdom beyond the bounds of this earth, it is still within the kingdom of this world. Their medals and scepters and money and trophies and everything else they cling to, everything else they count as a credential, will rust and decay and turn to dust.
But now let’s watch a second march. Let’s watch as the citizens of the kingdom of heaven pass by. At the head of them all come the humble, the ones who can barely lift their faces but can say only, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” Their hands are empty. Next come people whose eyes are red with mourning over their sin and sinfulness. They too have empty hands. Some of them limp by on crutches, some roll by in wheelchairs. Behind them are the ones who are meek and the ones who have waged a lifelong battle to become holy. Watch now as people pass by who dedicated their lives to extending mercy to the overlooked and marginalized, then people whose hearts and hands have remained pure in a world that tempted them so sorely. Then see the ones who brought peace where there was conflict, and ones who stood strong even when they were hated and beaten. See how among them there are representatives from every nation, every tribe and people and tongue. See how they each have empty hands, see how each of them wears just a simple white robe, unadorned by medals or ribbons or regalia.
Last of all, comes a simple man all alone who looks despised and rejected. He has no form or majesty that we should look at him, no great beauty that we should desire him. He comes in the form of a servant; he is humble and lowly and riding on a donkey. Look carefully and you will see that his hands and feet are deeply wounded, that blood runs down his forehead from where thorns have been pressed into it. Listen to the crowds as they raise their voices to jeer and hiss and boo.
But look again, look closer, look with eyes of faith, and you will see that as he passes you by he is utterly transformed. Look and see that this lowly servant has become a king, a warrior whose name is Faithful and True. See that his lowly colt has become a mighty white horse, that his crown of thorns has become the crown of a king, that the crowds suddenly fall to their faces before him. See that as he passes by he turns and looks you in the eye and he opens his mouth and he says, “Follow me.”
And so, my friend, if you have not already done so, hear his call, heed his welcome, receive your citizenship, take up your place in his march and follow him into the kingdom of heaven, the kingdom that has now begun but which will never, ever end.

We live out our Christian lives in a place between Egypt and the Promised Land. We have been justified but not yet glorified—we have been delivered safely through the Red Sea but have not yet forded the Jordan and arrived on its far bank. We may not physically wander as did the Israelites of old and we may not actually follow pillars of fire and cloud, but we no less make a pilgrimage and we are no less dependent upon the goodness, the grace, and the guidance of our God. We are no less reliant upon his promises to sustain us when the path is uncertain, when our enemies rise up, when the way before us seems to stretch on interminably.

The Israelites were prone to doubt God—to doubt his strength, his power, his intentions. They were prone to doubt that he would prove true to his promises and lead them to the land that flowed with milk and honey, the land that would be their home and their rest.
In so many ways the story of the Pentateuch is the story of God proving his faithfulness over against his people’s faithlessness. It is for good reason that so few who saw God parting the sea between Egypt and the wilderness were permitted to see God parting the river between the wilderness and Promised Land. There were consequences for their doubt and for its many manifestations in grumbling, rebellion, and idolatry.
But then, as promise gives way to fulfillment and winter gives way to spring, the Pentateuch gives way to Joshua. And now we see the mighty warrior at the head of a great army. He leads the people across the Jordan where, fighting in the strength of the Lord, they experience victory after victory. Bit by bit and battle by battle they stretch the boundaries and expand the borders until war at last fades to peace. By chapter 21 we read a stirring summary of their success and, even more so, an inspiring summary of God’s faithfulness. Here is what we find in its many superlatives:

Thus the LORD gave to Israel all the land that he swore to give to their fathers. And they took possession of it, and they settled there. And the LORD gave them rest on every side just as he had sworn to their fathers. Not one of all their enemies had withstood them, for the LORD had given all their enemies into their hands. Not one word of all the good promises that the LORD had made to the house of Israel had failed; all came to pass. (Joshua 21:43–45)

God drove out the inhabitants, he protected his people, he gave them a home and a land of their very own. In short, he did all he said he would do. He proved true to his every promise. Not one word was broken, not one was left unfulfilled. He showed himself to be truly, perfectly, sublimely reliable.
As God made many promises to his people, he makes many promises to you and me. Just as he promised to lead his people to the safety of the Promised Land, he has promised to lead us safely to heaven. Just as their clothes did not get full of holes and their shoes did not wear out, so the Spirit will preserve us with joy intact, character intact, godliness intact.
The day will come when the history of our lives will be summarized with just such superlatives. One day it will be said of me that the Lord gave to me all that he had said he would give and that he delivered me to the sweetest and fullest rest. One day it will be said of you that not one of the good promises God made to you in his Word failed, but that each and every one came to pass. One day it will be said of all those who are his that God was faithful to his every word and true to his every promise. And together we will praise the name of the Lord our God.

The Lord be with you and bless you today.
Today’s Kindle deals include a guide to family worship and a book that answers one of those hard questions.
(Yesterday on the blog: What We Cannot Escape)

Bob Kellemen has just completed a three-part series on spiritual abuse. It is well worth a read.

Dr. Robert Plummer offers principles for Christians to consider as they attempt to endure or resolve conflict within the church.

Why do you have the name you do? Your parents could have chosen thousands of possible names but wanted the perfect name for you. Because there’s only one you, and nothing will identify you more than your name. (Sponsored)

Phil Hunt wants Christians—and Christian leaders especially—to understand the principle of capacity. “If this principle is understood, the pastor or missionary will not despair when some believers fail to grow past the thirty-fold or sixty-fold point. Instead, they will be faithful in taking those believers as far as their capacity will allow and will learn to rejoice in the fruit borne, though it may not be especially plentiful.”

Stephen Witmer reminds you that no problem is too small for prayer. “Do you ever feel too small for God, as though your worries don’t deserve his attention? As though he has more important things to do than tend to that tricky relationship, those hidden regrets, that dwindling bank account? If you’re tempted to believe such lies…”

Have you ever had an experience like this? “Every detail I saw was exquisite, yet none of them existed alone. Each one sang the praises of its Creator in its own unique way, and I wanted to hear every individual part, but as I sat on the bench for those few minutes I simply let myself be overwhelmed by the combination—the chorus of all creation, all around me, all together, all at once, declaring the wonders of God.”

T.M. Suffield offers some reflections on blogging in 2024. And, on a somewhat similar note, from a different site: Should You Start A Substack? (Three Pros and Cons).

It is wise and good each morning to ask “What is my God-given duty in this day?” …The one who thinks in this way, the one who prays in this way, the one who lives in this way, will live a life of duty, a life of significance, a life of great delight. 

There are no closed countries. Only places where it’s more difficult to preach your second sermon.
—Mark Dever