They are words that can be tremendously encouraging or tremendously discouraging. Said at the wrong time or in the wrong spirit they can compound hurt, but said at the right time and in the right spirit they can be a cool drink on a hot day, a soothing balm on a sore wound. They are the words “light and momentary.” As the Apostle suffered physically and spiritually, as he spoke of the outer self wasting away, he proclaimed “this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.” His suffering was real. It was harmful and hurtful, weighty and lengthy. And yet he told no lie when he said it was just as truly light and momentary.

When I was a child I would sometimes help my dad, a landscaper, on his job sites. He would do the planting while I would bring him the materials. I’d have to load the wheelbarrow with flats of plants or heaps of soil and do my best to lug it over to him. “You can do it,” he would say. “It’s not that far and it’s not that heavy.” And in a sense he was right—it wasn’t that far and it wasn’t that heavy. But he was looking at it from the perspective of a man while I was looking at it from the perspective of a boy. He was grown and strong while I was small and weak. Now that I’m an adult I would agree that it’s an easy load and a short haul. But back then it took everything I had.
And I think this helps us get at what Paul is saying. Sorrow truly is heavy and hard in the moment. It calls for strength and endurance, fortitude and perseverance. It does us no good to minimize our pain or downplay our suffering. We need not suffer with dry eyes and impassive hearts. We are Christians, not Stoics. We are followers of a Savior who stood outside the tomb of his friend and wept, a Savior who knows what it is to have his heart broken. Tears are so sacred, so precious that God promises that not one goes unseen and unnoticed.
Yet even as our suffering is excruciating it is also light and even while it feels endless it is also momentary. To understand this we must engage our faith and move forward in time—forward beyond time. Through faith we can transport ourselves to the future and see the glories of heaven, the endless ages of joy, the completion of divine purposes. And now, from this shifted perspective, we can look back on our suffering. As we look forward from present to future our suffering is heavy and long, but as we look back from future to present it is light and momentary. Faith allows us to see this, to feel this, to believe this.
The deepest sorrow on earth is light in comparison to the smallest pleasure of heaven. It is a feather against an anvil, a grain of sand against a mountain, a drop of water against the mighty Pacific. The longest sorrow on earth is momentary in comparison to the shortest joy in heaven. It is a second against a year, a step against a marathon, a single tick of a clock against an entire age. It’s faith that allows us to see this and faith that allows us to believe it.
We may not judge today’s afflictions light and momentary. And, in fact, there is a very real sense in which they are not. So as we bear these burdens and endure these sorrows, as we feel their pain and cry our tears, we fix our eyes not on what is seen but on what is unseen, not on this day but on that one. And we say, with faith, “I can and will endure this light, momentary affliction as it prepares me for the full weight of glory that will prove far beyond all comparison.”

Local news recently reported on a man who had made a long and difficult journey to Canada. He had been invited and persuaded by some of his fellow countrymen, people who had already made the same journey themselves. They told him it would be worth the difficulty of escaping a controlling regime, the troubles of making a complicated voyage, and the expense of many modes of travel. Yet when he arrived in Canada he found it had all been a scam. He learned to his sorrow that no one was waiting for him. He was not expected, he was not wanted, and he was not welcome.
Have you ever imagined what it would be like to travel from one side of the planet to the other, only to learn that you were neither expected nor wanted? Have you ever considered what it would like to sell all you own and invest it in a perilous journey, only to find that it had all been a ruse? Such was this man’s realization and this man’s sorrow.
Like that man, we have all been invited to leave behind all we hold dear in this world, or to be willing to at least. We have been invited to reorient our desires, our dreams, and our goals. We have been invited to set aside so much of what we would otherwise hold dear and to give up so much of what we are certain would bring us great satisfaction. And we do it all to gain entrance to a better place, a better land, and a better home.
But unlike that man, we have no need to fear that it will all prove a ruse. We have no need to be concerned that in the end we will have been led astray or have fallen for a trick. We have no need to fear we will come to the end of our journey and find the way barred or the reception cold.
We have no need to fear we will come to the end of our journey and find the way barred or the reception cold.Share
To the contrary, we can have complete confidence that the One who invited us is waiting to receive us—that he who was welcomed to the side of his Father will most certainly welcome us in the same way. Similarly, we can have complete confidence that our loved ones are waiting for us as well, for they have not most truly passed away but simply been transported from this reality to that one, from life on earth to life in heaven. And only God himself knows who else may be waiting for us, standing by to celebrate our arrival and welcome us to our new home.
It is painful to imagine traveling from one side of the earth to the other and arriving only to find that you are neither expected nor wanted. But it is sweetly encouraging to imagine traveling from one side of eternity to the other and arriving to find you are both expected and wanted, that God, his people, and his angels are already preparing to receive you with great celebration. Such is the hope and the confidence of the gospel.

May the Lord bless and keep you today.

My church is hosting a Weekender for pastors, elders, and church leaders from March 25-27. If that’s of interest to you, you can find information right here.
‘Gotcha’ Sermon Clips Are Bad for the Church
Trevin Wax considers “gotcha” sermon clips and says, “I don’t believe the widespread sharing of bad moments in preaching will make the pulpit stronger. The weaponization of preaching clips as ammunition in intramural warfare isn’t a healthy and life-giving development.”
Were the Gospel Writers’ Memories Accurate? (Video)
“There was a time gap of 25 years between the life of Jesus and when the first Gospel was written. When Mark was remembering the life and teachings of Jesus, can we trust his memory? If not, then the written Gospels are not trustworthy either.” Bill Mounce offers an answer in a brief video.
The Sweet Spot
Darryl Dash considers the benefits and drawbacks of aging.
Pastors, You Don’t Have to Be an Expert on Everything
Michael Kruger looks at a popular book and draws some lessons for pastors. “Pastors too need to realize they are not experts in everything. Yes, they have been trained in theology, bible, church history, etc. But that does not make a pastor an expert on immigration policy, epidemiology, or tax reform.”
Turning From Ancestor Worship Will Be Costly, Jesus Said So
Lucky Mogakane: “Ancestral worship remains a significant hindrance to the gospel in many African countries. Generally, Africans do not have a problem with the gospel message. But a massive question hangs over the decision to repent and believe, related to worship of the ancestors.”
God Is Not Going to Slap the Cookie From Your Hand
“I tend to be overly analytical. I’ve spent a great deal of thought on what’s God’s part and what’s our part in the Christian life. I can’t say I have it all figured out, even now. My tendency is to want to sort it out neatly in a series of points. God does this: 1, 2, and 3. And we do this: 1, 2, and 3. But I don’t think it works like that.”
Flashback: The App of God
As one medium gives way to another, we do well to remind ourselves of what the Bible really is. Not a book, but something far better, and far more transcendent. It is the enduring words of God himself.

To every believer, the debt–book is crossed; the black lines of sin are crossed out in the red lines of Christ’s blood. —Thomas Watson