Greater Expectations

How to Enjoy the Future Ahead of Time

Mark Finley
and

Steven Mosley
 Cover design by Palimor Studios
Originally published in 1999.
Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture references in this book are from
the New King James Version. Copyright © 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas
Nelson, Inc., Nashville, Tennessee.

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ISBN: 978-0-8163-4886-2 0-8163-4886-3

Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Secret of a Spiritual Revolution
Chapter 2: What Can Bring Us Together?
Chapter 3: The Way We Wait
Chapter 4: Falling for the Wrong Hope
Chapter 5: Your Destiny - Your Desire
 Chapter 1

Secret of a Spiritual Revolution

We’re familiar with those historic images from Eastern Europe, the
banners waving in the streets, the crowds chanting, the signs of liberty rising
like a great wave and sweeping through the communist world. We remember
the day that the Berlin Wall finally came down.
But what most of us didn’t see was the human tide that prepared the
way for this incredible upheaval. We didn’t see the force behind the
revolution. It was a spiritual force.
It began in places like Nikolaikirche, a Protestant church in the East
German city of Leipzig. In 1983 the pastor there decided to open the doors
of the church every Monday evening for what he called Friedensgebete, or
“Prayers for Peace.”
People came to pray, and people came to share. Many were angry,
frustrated, and afraid. But in that church they could pour their hearts out.
And they could sense that others understood.
One participant said, “Inside the church, we had the most incredible
feeling of security and warmth. People were changed somehow. You would
notice it in a squeeze of the hand or somebody giving you an unexpected
hug.”
Soon the church was crowded with people wanting to join in the
“Prayers for Peace.” They would often stream out into the streets after the
meeting, carrying candles, hoping to spark peaceful change in their country.
Those candles ignited quite a fire. “Prayers for Peace” meetings
spread to other cities throughout East Germany. It became a movement. The
secret police tried to force pastors to stop the meetings. But the spiritual
momentum was too great. It swelled up into the peaceful revolution that
brought down communist tyranny.
Does it surprise you to learn that it was really a spiritual revolution
that swept away the power of communism? It was a peaceful revolution
with roots in the churches that Jesus Christ founded.
Actually, that shouldn’t come as a surprise. That’s because Jesus Christ
was the greatest revolutionary this world has ever known. This lone
Galilean Rabbi, without earthly power or position, created a movement that
swept over the globe. No other single figure has had a more profound effect
on human history. No other individual has inspired more constructive
change.
Have you ever wondered what it might be like to witness the
beginnings of a spiritual revolution? In this book we’re going to go back to
the beginning of a revolution that turned the whole world upside down, the
spiritual revolution of Jesus Christ.
We’ll get a close-up view. We’re going to visit the very epicenter of
this explosive movement. We’re going to get glimpses into those intense
moments when Christianity was born.
Those glimpses come to us through two very special letters in the
Bible, two epistles as they are sometimes called. They were written by the
world’s greatest missionary - Paul of Tarsus.
And they are among the earliest surviving letters we have from the
great apostle. Scholars have been able to date 1 Thessalonians to around
A.D. 51. That’s earlier than any other epistle, except possibly the letter to
the Galatians.
So what we have in the letters to the Thessalonians is a window into
the life of the early church - as it was just beginning to mushroom out into
the world. It’s a document that shows God’s Spirit at work in the lives of
ordinary human beings - turning them into an extraordinary community.
And these epistles, above all, show us the content of their faith. These
letters show us what they believed, what they emphasized, what they
cherished as truth.
So, let’s explore the letters to the Thessalonians, these priceless
Christian documents. Let’s find out what made the earliest believers tick.
Because their faith can turn our world upside down too.
There’s something that strikes you immediately when you start reading
these letters. It’s a certain spirit that pours out of these chapters, these
verses. You know that something wonderful is happening here, something
positive, something powerful.
This isn’t just some nice, boring, religious tract. It’s a description of
faith at its best.
Look at the very beginning of 1 Thessalonians: “We give thanks to God
always for you all, making mention of you in our prayers, remembering
without ceasing your work of faith, labor of love, and patience of hope in
our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Thessalonians 1:2, 3).
Paul finds himself thanking God all the time. He sees exciting things
happening in the lives of these believers. In his letter he can’t say enough
about their expanding faith, their abounding love, their joy that flows out to
others. Paul sees God’s grace and peace and comfort welling up in this
group.
 Yes, something wonderful was happening back there at the epicenter of
that spiritual revolution, something remarkable.
But here’s the most remarkable fact of all. That community of love and
joy was created in the worst of times. Do you realize that? Do you know
what was happening in Thessalonica when Paul wrote these letters?
Persecution. Affliction. Suffering.
It wasn’t sunny days in the park. It wasn’t prosperous times on easy
street.
Believers were being hounded, harassed, hunted down.
Paul refers to it, in passing, several times. Look at 1 Thessalonians
again, chapter 1, verse 6. There we read that these people “received the
word in much affliction.,,
In chapter 3, verse 3, he urges them not to “be shaken by these
afflictions.”
In 2 Thessalonians, chapter 1, verse 4, Paul says that he is proud of
‘Tour patience and faith in all your persecutions and tribulations that you
endure.”
These were times when the enforcers of religious custom could be very
cruel. These were times when people could spend a Sunday afternoon at the
Coliseum watching Christians being attacked by wild beasts.
And yet, what was happening in that place and in that time of
persecution?
Love abounding. Continual thanksgiving. Constant joy. Wonderful
transformations.
What an extraordinary spirit! What an extraordinary community!
Wouldn’t you like to share in it? Wouldn’t you like to have some of the
spirit that overflows in these two epistles?
Let me give you a recent example of how powerfully God’s Spirit can
work through letters.
During the days of the Soviet Empire, one thing held a special terror
for Russian citizens: being sent to the Gulag. That was a series of prison
camps scattered through the frozen tundra of Siberia.
In the Gulag, you felt utterly cut off from the rest of the world. It was as
though you’d died and been sent to some other frozen planet.
One camp, near the village of Bozoi, was known as “the valley of
death” because so many prisoners died there.
They were worked to death meeting daily quotas - from 5:30 in the
morning until two or three the next morning.
They froze to death. Some of the barracks were unheated, and thick
frost clung to the walls and ceiling.
 They died of tuberculosis, subject to constant, bitter cold winds
blowing across the desolate landscape.
But most of all, they died alone, abandoned.
It was impossible to shake that feeling of isolation as you desperately
clung to life in the Bozoi prison camp. After all, inmates there were outcasts
from Soviet society. They were enemies of the people. Few cared about
their faith. Soon even friends and loved ones stopped writing.
But one 28-year-old woman in that camp remained incredibly
connected - Valentina, the one with soft eyes and a kind smile. Other
prisoners were always asking her, “Why do you get so many letters?”
They came all the time, a stream of correspondence. During holidays,
she would sometimes receive three or four hundred cards.
Valentina explained that she had friends. They were a special kind.
They were fellow believers. They had peace and love and joy to share in
their Lord Jesus Christ.
Valentina herself had been arrested and sent to the camp because she’d
helped distribute Christian literature. For any other young, attractive
woman, a trip to the Gulag would have been an unbearable tragedy, the end.
But Valentina managed to bear up rather well. She wrote, “The concern
of my friends lifted my spirit tremendously and gave me great joy which
spilled over even to the other prisoners.”
Those exhausted, freezing, abandoned people gathered around
Valentina when she got her mail, as if they were huddling around a warm
fire. They all wanted to know how many she’d received that day. They all
kept count, even the guards.
And Valentina shared from her riches. She gave away bookmarks
people had sent with Bible verses. She invited prisoners to borrow her
letters so they could copy the poems and psalms in them. She taught her
fellow inmates how to sing the hymns that believers sent her.
Sometimes as Valentina walked by someone’s workbench, she could
hear them quietly repeating lines, memorizing a poem or a hymn.
Valentina’s letters kept people alive in the frozen Gulag. They were a
continual flow of peace and love and joy in a place of desolation. They
came from many people Valentina had never met; some lived in other
countries. Little children wrote her. Grandmothers wrote her.
Valentina shared the same spirit with all these friends in Christ. They
had something so strong it could warm up the winds of Siberia.
Friends, that’s the way it’s been down through history - ever since
Christ invaded our world. These first Christian letters, to the Thessalonians,
embody that wonderful spirit. Think about what they really hold. If we could
just capture it; if we could just put it in a bottle - I think it would become the
antidote to every kind of depression, the antidote to all anger and animosity,
the antidote to all greed and pettiness.
There’s a cure here. There’s powerful medicine here. How do we
make use of it? How do we capture this spirit?
This is the first chapter. In the following chapters, we’ll be looking at
ways we can do just that - capture that spirit. We’ll be looking at the content
of this remarkable faith that shines through the letters to the Thessalonians.
I’d like to show you a certain perspective, a certain point of view that
runs through these two epistles. I believe it’s the primary reason the
Thessalonians could have so much love and joy in the worst of times. It’s
one of the secrets behind their vibrant faith.
These letters that once sailed across the Aegean Sea, that were
propelled along by amazing spiritual energy, were actually aimed at one
particular future event. One great event dominates the horizon in these
messages. That event is the return of a Loved One, the return of the Christ
who first ignited that great spiritual revolution, the return of the Savior.
It’s interesting to note that every chapter in 1 Thessalonians ends with a
reference to that event: the second coming of Jesus Christ.
Take a look in chapter 1, verse 10. When Paul affirms their turning
from idols to serve the living and true God, he adds: “and to wait for His
Son from heaven, whom He raised from the dead, even Jesus who delivers
us from the wrath to come” (1 Thessalonians 1:10).
These believers awaited the return of the resurrected Christ, the Son of
God, the Deliverer.
Now look at these beautiful verses at the end of chapter 2: “For what is
our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Is it not even you in the presence of
our Lord Jesus Christ at His coming? For you are our glory and joy” (1
Thessalonians 2:19, 20).
Paul was bursting with great expectations: seeing these fellow
believers in the presence of a glorified Jesus Christ, seeing their faces light
up with the glory of the coming Christ. That hope made his joy in these dear
people even more intense.
Now to the end of chapter 4. This chapter contains a lengthy passage
that describes just how Christ will return. “For the Lord Himself will
descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of an archangel, and with
the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are
alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet
the Lord in the air. And thus we shall always be with the Lord. Therefore
comfort one another with these words” (1 Thessalonians 4:16-18).
 This was a very real event for the apostle. It wasn’t just something far
off in the hazy future. He could see Jesus descending. He could hear the
trumpet of God ringing out. He could see believers rising to meet Christ in
the air.
What a great expectation! This is a spectacular event to look forward
to. No wonder it dominated the horizon for these believers.
Paul believed that the Christ he’d encountered on the road to Damascus
would appear, blazing in the heavens. He believed that all of history was
headed toward a rendezvous with the risen Christ, the returning Christ.
In other words, Paul had hope, great hope. The Thessalonians had
hope. That hope dominated their perspective. It dominated the horizon. It
was still there when times got hard. It was still there when persecution
came. It was still there when they lost everything.
That same hope shines out in the stories we’re now able to hear of
Russian believers imprisoned in the Gulag, in the stories of people like
Valentina.
We hear of two believers huddled outside their barracks in 40-degree-
below-zero temperatures. In the few minutes they have together, they don’t
talk about the miserable conditions in their camp. They sing and pray
together; they share hope.
As one wrote, “Sometimes we stood silently, just gazing together
toward heaven. Nothing was dearer to us than heaven.”
We hear of a pastor shivering alone in a dark, isolation cell who is
comforted by hope. He wrote, “During those long periods of solitary
confinement, my heart enjoyed the presence of God. Like the apostle Paul, I
would spend hours singing hymns. God never forsook me, not in my darkest,
hardest hours. The promises of our Lord Jesus Christ work in all of life.”
We hear of another pastor crammed into a prison cell with seventy
hardened criminals. He asks to sing a hymn for them - it’s Easter Sunday.
Everyone quiets. The man begins to sing songs of praise. And he keeps
singing for an hour. No one moves. The eyes are all turned toward him. He
sings praise to God for another hour. And then for a third hour. The faces
around him have been captured, captured during those moments by
something wonderful, by hope, hope that another, different world is very
real.
These believers had great expectations that transcended the dark. The
Thessalonians had the same great expectations. That’s why so much love
and joy and thankfulness poured out of that community; that’s why it
overflows in these two priceless letters. That’s why these precious people
had such great expectations for each other.
 They had great expectations in their hearts because they had a great
expectation in the heavens. Never forget that.
What kind of expectations do you live with every day? What does the
horizon look like to you? Is it covered with dark clouds? Are you haunted
by disappointments? Is it hard to look up because you seem to be trapped in
one affliction after another? Can you still have hope when the hard times
come?
We need the spirit that overflows in these epistles. How do we tap into
it? By tapping into the perspective that dominates them. By fixing our hope
on the event that dominated their horizon.
The second coming of Christ is a real event, as real as the biggest
headline in the papers today.
A very real person is going to descend from heaven. He’s not just
someone we see with the eyes of faith. He’s not just someone we may
imagine coming to the rescue. He’s the real, historical Christ.
And we’re going to make a rendezvous for that event with other
believers. We’re going to be caught up together to meet our Lord in the air.
That’s the great expectation we can have in the heavens. That’s what
can put great expectations in our hearts every day.
Make it your own great expectation. Make it a real hope. Make Christ
the big event in your future.
 Chapter 2

What Can Bring Us Together?

Even though cities from Jerusalem to Belfast are still haunted by

terrorist bombs -
Even though ethnic groups from Bosnia to Iraq are still carrying on
ancient conflicts -
Even though weapons of mass destruction still end up in the hands of
madmen - we still cling to the hope that world peace is just around the
corner. We can’t shake that dream. Why shouldn’t all the senseless
bloodshed just stop?
We write songs about one world of brotherhood. We keep hoping.
We hope that maybe a global village of technology will help us all get
along. But the Internet hasn’t slowed down the fighting.
We hope that maybe a healthier world economy will ease conflict, but
old enmities seem to run much deeper than money. The prosperous can fight
as fiercely as the poor.
We find it so hard to just “give peace a chance.”
Maybe one reason is that we haven’t yet found a kind of peace that’s
big enough to fill the whole world.
Good men like United Nations Secretary, General Kofi Annan, keep
trying their best. They keep trying to replace war with diplomacy. In 1998
Mr. Annan was able to negotiate a settlement between Saddam Hussein and
the U.S. government - in the nick of time. He’s busy jetting here and there,
attempting to keep hot spots all over the world from erupting into
bloodshed.
A long-time friend of Mr. Annan made this comment: “He has in mind a
goal - world peace.”
That’s a hard goal to give up - despite all that goes on around us. We’re
haunted by the killing fields of Cambodia; we see horrible scenes of
genocide in Africa. But still we dream of peace.
I’d like to suggest that we can get a unique perspective on peace in the
world from two letters written in the first century, the letters we’re studying
in this book.
Paul’s two epistles to the Thessalonians don’t tackle the challenge of
world peace directly. They don’t talk about conflict resolution on a global
scale. What they do instead is embody peace for us - on a grand scale. They
show us what a very special, and a very powerful, kind of peace is made of.
And in doing this, I believe Paul provides a real alternative to the conflict
and animosity that keep plaguing human beings.
In the first chapter, we noted that a wonderfully positive spirit flows
through these letters. A big part of that spirit consists of this: The fine art of
encouragement. Paul was a master of building other people up in Christ.
Over and over he expresses thanks to God for the faith of the Thessalonians,
for their love, for their faithfulness.
“We give thanks to God always for you all” (1 Thessalonians 1:2).
“We… thank God without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 2:13).
These are the phrases he uses. The apostle made these people feel
good about the progress they were making in the Christian life. And he made
them feel cherished.
He calls them “brethren beloved by the Lord” (2 Thessalonians 2:13).
He asserts that “God from the beginning chose you for salvation” (2
Thessalonians 2:13).
Paul had a wonderful way of expressing confidence in these believers.
He had a wonderful way of expressing great expectations. Take a look at 2
Thessalonians: “But the Lord is faithful, who will establish you and guard
you from the evil one. And we have confidence in the Lord concerning you”
(2 Thessalonians 3:3, 4).
Paul believed in these people. He believed in what God was doing in
their lives.
But here’s what makes Paul’s fine art of encouragement especially
remarkable. He wasn’t writing to a group of saints who were all sweetness
and light. The believers in Thessalonica had their problems. The apostle
had to deal with busybodies, the disorderly, those who refused to work and
expected others in the church to take care of them.
Paul was writing to the Thessalonians from Corinth. The church in
Corinth also had its problem individuals. Some believers were threatening
to go to court with each other. There was even a case of incest reported
among them.
Paul was dealing with flawed human beings. The usual problems were
there, problems that lead people to quarrel and hold grudges and break up
into factions.
But Paul’s letters consistently helped people move beyond all that. He
made them feel they were all part of something glorious. He made them see
that they had a higher destiny. And churches everywhere responded - with
love and faith and peace.
 Now, here’s the most remarkable fact of all. The man who was sowing
peace had once been an intolerant, violent fanatic. He’d been known as Saul
of Tarsus, persecutor of Christians.
This apostle had once embodied all those things that keep people
fighting, all those attitudes that make people think they have the right to spill
blood over their principles. Individuals like that make wars go on and on.
But Saul of Tarsus ran into Jesus Christ and turned in the opposite
direction as Paul the apostle. But he did more than just switch allegiances.
He found a peace that was bigger than him, a peace that could swallow up
all his old prejudices and hatreds.
And it was that peace that he shared with churches everywhere. He
didn’t see people anymore as Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female.
He saw everyone through Christ, through Christ’s sacrifice. He saw that
every human life has infinite value because Jesus died for each one of us.
Every life is precious. That comes through clearly in his letters.
Look at 1 Thessalonians: “But we were gentle among you, just as a
nursing mother cherishes her own children. So, affectionately longing for
you, we were well pleased to impart to you not only the gospel of God, but
also our own lives, because you had become dear to us” (1 Thessalonians
2:7, 8).
These weren’t just nice words Paul was writing. He really did impart
his own life to these people. He gave himself up for them.
Paul worked hard as a tent maker to support himself so as not to place
a financial burden on the churches he was starting.
He faced death threats from his former colleagues - but still kept
sharing the gospel of grace.
He was almost beaten to death on more than one occasion - but
continued giving his words of encouragement.
He endured shipwreck and hunger and cold and prison - but continued
ministering, continued sowing peace.
Paul knew that he was part of something bigger than the jealousy and
resentment and intolerance that rip people apart. He was part of God’s
grace moving out into the world. He saw everyone through that grace.
And he saw that all of us are headed toward a rendezvous with this
Christ. He saw that all of history was heading toward a climax in the return
of Christ. The hope of the Second Coming fills his letters to the
Thessalonians, as we’ve noted.
He writes confidently that the Lord will “establish your hearts
blameless in holiness before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord
Jesus Christ with all His saints” (1 Thessalonians 3:13).
 He prays that their “whole spirit, soul, and body be preserved
blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Thessalonians 5:23).
One reason that Paul could sow peace so effectively is that he made
people so keenly aware of this great coming event when God’s grace would
fill the whole world. He made people feel a part of that. He made people
aware of the fact that they had a heavenly home, that they belonged in the
kingdom of God. And so they didn’t have to fret so much about their place
on this present earth.
Do you know what lies behind so much of the fighting that goes on and
on in our world today? For some, it’s ideology. For some, it’s national
identity. For some, it’s just real estate. People want the same turf. There’s
just not enough to go around.
And people cling so very tightly to their ideology. They cling so tightly
to their national identity. They cling so tightly to their particular spot on
earth.
There’s always this feeling that there’s just not enough to go around.
There’s not enough to go around in Jerusalem.
There’s not enough to go around in Bosnia.
There’s not enough to go around in Lebanon and a hundred other
places.
People struggle so hard to stake a claim that will last somewhere on
this earth.
Well, Paul’s letters are here to tell us something very important.
There’s more to life than that. We can be part of something so much bigger.
We can build each other up, instead of tearing each other down.
We can believe the best, instead of believe the worst. We can be part
of God’s grace sweeping over the world, the grace that knows no
boundaries. We can be part of a heavenly kingdom that will someday make
the whole world new again.
We don’t have to go on squabbling with our neighbors about our
identity - handing down our hatreds from one generation to the next. We
don’t have to be so tied to the turf we possess.
Please remember that Paul spread peace among people not that
different from us today. They had their quarrels too. They got stuck fighting
over turf too. But he made them part of something so much bigger, so much
greater.
We can still see it in his letters. We can see it in his wonderful words
of encouragement, in his faith, in his vision. He shared the kind of peace
that’s big enough to fill the whole world.
Friends, I’ve been privileged to witness what that peace can actually
do in various countries. I’ve seen that peace bring enemies together. I’ve
witnessed scenes of reconciliation that I’ll never forget.
There was that day I visited a small Seventh-day Adventist church in
the heart of Jerusalem. I’d come there to worship. There were about sixty or
seventy people attending services.
And on that day, they were celebrating the Lord’s Supper -
Communion. But before partaking of the bread and juice, they conducted
another service, a foot-washing service.
These Adventist believers followed the example of Christ who washed
His disciples’ feet before the Last Supper. The church divided up into
groups of two. They filled basins with water and draped towels over their
shoulders.
An Arab man walked over to a Jewish man, both believers in Christ.
He knelt down at his feet, removed his shoes and socks, and began washing
his feet.
A Jewish woman knelt down before an Arab woman to wash her feet
and dry them with a towel. This was happening all over the church.
Generations of animosity seemed to just melt away in this service of
humility.
Afterward, the groups of two would pray together, asking God’s
blessing in each other’s lives.
Friends, that was a powerful experience. That was the peace of Christ
making a difference. Instead of throwing rocks and vowing revenge, they
were washing each other’s feet.
I’ve seen Christ’s peace at work in Belgrade, in a land torn by hatreds
that go back hundreds of years. At evangelistic meetings I conducted there, I
watched Croats and Serbs stand side by side, heads bowed in prayer. I saw
them come to Christ. I saw them become brothers and sisters in a new
humanity, a humanity purchased by the blood of Christ.
I’ve seen Christ’s peace at work in Northern Ireland. I’ve seen
believers from Catholic backgrounds and believers from Protestant
backgrounds rejoice together in a new hope they discovered, the hope of
Christ’s coming. That glorious event seemed to overshadow all the old
divisions, all the old rivalries. They were one in their great expectations.
I’ve seen Christ’s peace at work among families torn apart by deep
hurts. I’ve seen Christ heal the bitterness.
I’ll never forget the man in Brazil who came to an It Is Written meeting.
He came there with bitterness in his heart toward his brother. They had
parted ways in anger twenty-five years before. And they hadn’t spoken
since.
 But in those meetings, this man quite unexpectedly found his anger
melting; it was being replaced by the peace of Christ.
And then, to his utter amazement, he spotted his brother sitting across
the hall. Well, there was a wonderful reconciliation that night. There were
tears and embraces. Twenty-five years of animosity melted away. The peace
of Christ, the love of Christ, was shining through.
Yes friends, I believe the peace of Christ is big enough to fill the whole
world.
Have you ever felt unusually lonely? There was one time in my life that
I had deep feelings of loneliness - the summer of 1965.1 had just completed
my freshman year of college at Atlantic Union College in a rural New
England town about forty-five miles west of Boston, Massachusetts. The
college administration had chosen me to spend the summer as a student
missionary in Brazil. I had never traveled out of the United States.
During the summer of 1965, I flew to Sao Paulo, Brazil ,and then to
Belem, Brazil, at the mouth of the Amazon River. From there I joined a
medical missionary team on a launch called the Luzerio VI and worked
among the poverty-stricken people of the Lower Amazon Basin. There were
times that our missionary launch was away from civilization for a month at a
time.
I often longed for home, during those long summer days and evenings. I
thought about my parents, but most of all, I thought about a young woman I
was dating. I longed to return to the mission headquarters just to get a letter
from her. Those letters were our only form of communication. There were
no telephones, e-mails, faxes, or other means of communicating in the deep
jungles of the Amazon in those days. The love in our hearts spanned the
ocean, but those letters bonded us. They united us. Those letters spanned the
ocean, they crossed continents. They gave me courage and hope. They lifted
my spirits. They let me know that somebody at home loved me and cared for
me. They kept me going in the difficult experiences, through the trials and
obstacles I was facing in the Brazilian jungles.
Letters can make a profound difference. Letters inspired by God can
make even a more profound difference. The remarkable bond that developed
between my college sweetheart, Teenie, and me through those letters led
eventually to our marriage.
We see that bond of love in Paul’s letters to the Thessalonians as well.
This former fanatic had experienced something quite intense, and that’s
another reason the piece he shared was so powerful.
Listen to the earnestness in these words found in 1 Thessalonians: “For
what thanks can we render to God for you, for all the joy with which we
rejoice for your sake before our God, night and day praying exceedingly that
we may see your face and perfect what is lacking in your faith?” (1
Thessalonians 3:9, 10).
Paul longed to be reunited with these believers. The apostle had
wanted to stay longer in Thessalonica and teach them more about the
Christian faith. But persecution had forced a separation. Because of threats
against his life, they’d had to smuggle him out of their city one night.
Now he prays night and day that he might be able to see their faces
again. A powerful bond had been established during the apostle’s brief stay
in their city. Look at 1 Thessalonians: “But we, brethren, having been taken
away from you for a short time in presence, not in heart, endeavored more
eagerly to see your face with great desire” (1 Thessalonians 2:17).
Paul was still present - in heart. He had a “great desire” to nurture
these believers. He had a great desire to impart his own life - as he’d done
so often before. His life was wrapped up with theirs. Let’s look at 1
Thessalonians again: “In all our affliction and distress we were comforted
concerning you by your faith. For now we live, if you stand fast in the Lord”
(1 Thessalonians 3:7, 8).
We live - if you stand fast in the Lord. What a statement of devotion!
Paul’s life was so wrapped up in theirs that their troubles were his troubles,
their joy was his joy. Yes, their faithfulness made life worthwhile for him.
Why was the apostle Paul so successful in sowing peace among
imperfect, quarrelsome human beings? Because he loved them so deeply.
Because he was bonded to them by the love of God Himself.
That’s what gives New Testament peace its great power. Real peace
isn’t just the absence of conflict. We don’t just subtract war and come up
with peace. Only love produces the real thing. Only the love of God is
bigger than all human hatreds, all human prejudices.
We see it in these beautiful letters that Paul wrote. We see believers
caught up in something bigger than themselves. God’s grace and love are big
enough to fill this world. This creates a bond that’s stronger than any human
division.
It’s stronger than the differences between Arab and Jew in Jerusalem.
It’s stronger than the differences between Serb and Croat in Bosnia.
It’s stronger than age-old prejudices and blood-soaked boundaries.
Friends, we’re too tied to hanging on to our little piece of earth. The
passions in our hearts are too big. The kingdom of God in our hearts is too
small.
But God’s peace is there waiting for us. It’s big enough to fill the
whole world - and it can fill your individual heart.
 It’s time to start building up - and stop tearing down.
It’s time to believe the best - instead of the worst. It’s time to share
love and grace - across boundaries.
Open yourself up to God’s kind of peace right now.
 Chapter 3

The Way We Wait

If, as the Bible tells us, the world is heading toward a rendezvous with
the kingdom of God, if we are facing the end times of history, the second
coming of Jesus Christ, a good question to ask is this: What difference does
it make today? How does that affect how I live my life right now?
A remarkable letter shows us good and bad ways of waiting for the
Advent.
A Scottish philosopher named Adam Smith would sometimes get so
lost in thought that he’d forget where he was. Well, one day he got himself
into quite a predicament because of it.
One Sunday morning, he wandered out into his garden wearing only a
nightgown. Soon he became totally engrossed in working out some obscure
theoretical problem. Smith strolled out of his yard and onto the street. He
actually walked twelve miles to a neighboring town - completely oblivious
to everything around him.
But the loud ringing of church bells in the town reached some level of
his consciousness. So he made his way into a church and took his place in a
pew - still pondering. Regular churchgoers were astonished to see the
philosopher in their midst, clad only in his white nightgown.
Adam Smith is just one in a long line of individuals we’ve come to
know as scholars with their head in the clouds - absent-minded professors.
They’re never quite present, it seems, in the real world. Anecdotes
about them abound.
There was the mathematician, David Hilbert, who forgot to put on a
clean shirt for the party at his home. His wife quietly asked him to go
upstairs and change. While disrobing, he forgot what he was disrobing for,
got into bed, and went to sleep.
I have to confess that I’m not immune to absent-mindedness. I
remember times when my wife, Teenie, would ask me to go upstairs and get
her glasses. While up there I’d spot a book, put on her glasses, and start
reading. I’d forget all about why I went up there.
Stories about people who always have “something else” on their minds
are amusing, but they also raise some interesting questions, questions about
the way we live every day, especially the way religious people live every
day.
Are we who look forward to heaven, to the second coming of Christ,
just people with our heads in the clouds? Are those of us who profess faith
in a soon-coming Savior just absent-minded professors of a different sort?
Are we out of touch with the real world? Are we as out of place as that
absent-minded philosopher sitting in a pew in his nightgown?
If Jesus is really coming tomorrow - or someday soon - how should we
live today1? That’s an important question. How does that affect how we
carry on our daily lives?
The Greek philosopher Thales sheds a little light on this subject. He
actually shows us two contrasting ways of living - with your head in the
clouds.
Plato related this story about Thales. The philosopher was walking
down a road by himself one evening, lost in contemplation, head thrown
back, studying the stars. Suddenly he stumbled into a well.
Brought back to reality, he started yelling for help. A servant girl came
running and pulled him out. She observed, “You’re so eager to know about
things in the sky, you miss what’s at your own feet.”
Well, that’s one way to live with another world in mind - with the stars
in your eyes. You can forget about where you’re going now.
But listen to another story about Thales, this one told by Aristotle.
People sometimes taunted Thales that all his wisdom had failed to get him
any wealth.
So the philosopher decided to show how useful gazing at the stars
could be. One year he bought up all the olive presses in Miletus where he
lived. His study of the stars and weather patterns enabled him to predict a
bumper crop for olives.
The harvest that year was indeed abundant, and Thales made a huge
amount of money renting out his olive presses. Having proven his point, he
sold the presses and went back to philosophy.
So here we have two very different results from staring at the stars. On
the one hand, you can stumble into a well. On the other hand, you can
become incredibly prosperous.
You can lose sight of reality. Or you can gain a kind of wisdom that
enables you to live more abundantly.
What does staring at the stars do for us, for you and me? What does
living in expectation of Christ’s second coming do for us? Will we stumble
into a well or live more abundantly?
The apostle Paul zeroed in on this issue in what is probably his earliest
surviving letter: the first letter written to the church at Thessalonica, in the
Roman province of Macedonia.
First Thessalonians is filled with the hope of the second coming of
Christ. And it also takes a hard look at good ways - and bad ways - of
waiting for Christ to return. In doing that, it explodes some of the myths
people still have today about what it means to live with “great
expectations.”
Let’s look through this epistle for Paul’s insights.
Start with 1 Thessalonians, chapter 4. Right before a detailed passage
on the hope of Christ’s coming, he offers this word of advice. He urges his
brothers and sisters to increase more and more in love for one another and,
he urges, “that you also aspire to lead a quiet life, to mind your own
business, and to work with your own hands, as we commanded you, that you
may walk properly toward those who are outside, and that you may lack
nothing” (1 Thessalonians 4:11, 12).
What does the apostle mean here - “work with your own hands”? Is he
recommending manual labor as the Christian norm? Is he implying we
should be, say, carpenters instead of accountants?
I don’t think so. What Paul is getting at here is simply good, honest
work - period. He wants believers to occupy themselves in useful labor, in
taking care of the needs of their families, in setting the example of quiet,
productive lives.
The problem Paul is addressing here becomes even more clear in the
second letter to the Thessalonians. “For we hear that there are some who
walk among you in a disorderly manner, not working at all, but are
busybodies. Now those who are such we command and exhort through our
Lord Jesus Christ that they work in quietness and eat their own bread. But as
for you, brethren, do not grow weary in doing good” (2 Thessalonians 3:11-
13).
Sometimes people try to use religion as a cover for irresponsibility.
Waiting for God to come rescue them is just an extension of a lifetime of
expecting other people to bail them out of their difficulties.
Paul is saying that our great expectations ought to inspire us to work
responsibly as good stewards of the coming King.
Fortunately, the early church took this teaching to heart. They were
energized by their great expectations. They earned the admiration of pagans
by pouring out love on their neighbors. They blessed those around them.
They turned the world upside down, in fact.
Waiting for Christ to return does not mean idleness. Paul makes that
clear. If we’re paralyzed instead of energized, by end time events, then
something’s wrong. We’re not waiting in the right way.
 One thing becomes very clear as you read Paul’s letters to the
Thessalonians. This apostle was keenly concerned with the quality of life in
the here and now. He concerned himself with making life better now.
Some people fear that the more preoccupied we become with that
perfect life in the hereafter, the less concern we will show for the quality of
life in this world.
Paul demonstrates the exact opposite. The hope of the Second Advent
floods through his letters, but this only seems to make him more passionate
about getting God’s qualities into people’s lives now.
He sums it up very nicely in 1 Thessalonians, chapter 4: “For this is
the will of God, your sanctification” (1 Thessalonians 4:3).
What’s a good way of waiting for Christ’s return? Growth. Progress in
the spiritual life. Getting more of God’s graces in our hearts. That’s
sanctification. So Paul frequently urged his friends to grow more and more
in their love for one another. And it’s evident from his letters that his love
flowed out to them.
Paul was concerned about the quality of life in the present. And he
tackled a particular moral problem that faced the Thessalonians.
They lived in a community where temple prostitutes turned vice into a
religious rite. The Greek and Roman culture of the day simply didn’t
reinforce sexual fidelity very strongly.
In Corinth, where Paul wrote this letter, the patron goddess was
Aphrodite. Her worship actually involved wild orgies.
This was the culture in which the Thessalonians were living. How then
should they live in view of the return of the Lord Jesus Christ?
Paul spells out what God’s will, concerning sanctification, involves:
“You should abstain from sexual immorality; that each of you should
know how to possess his own vessel in sanctification and honor, not in
passion of lust, like the Gentiles who do not know God; that no one should
take advantage of and defraud his brother in this matter” (1 Thessalonians
4:3-6).
Paul called believers to commit themselves to different moral
standards than their neighbors, higher moral standards. Their quality of life
depended on doing more than just going along with the crowd.
The word vessel was commonly used as a metaphor for your body.
And occasionally, it stood for one’s wife also. Perhaps both meanings are
intended in this passage.
Paul is calling individuals to self-control, to honorable behavior. Self-
control is required if our bodies are to express love, not just lust. Self-
control is required if we are to make our spouses feel cherished, not just
used.
Acting honorably in sexual matters. That was the standard Paul lifted
up in a time when promiscuity was institutionalized. He called people to
sexual fidelity. He said it clearly. It’s wrong to take someone else’s spouse.
It’s wrong to betray the intimate bonds of marriage.
How should we then live - in view of Christ’s second coming? We live
with GOD’S quality of life in mind. We’re not limited by the standards of
the world around us. We’re not trapped by the fickle crowd. We see another
kingdom coming. And we live by its values; we live by its standards.
Paul urged: ‘Walk worthy of God who calls you into His own kingdom
and glory” (1 Thessalonians 2:12).
That’s the good way of waiting.
Now, let’s look at one more thing that characterizes the good kind of
waiting. It’s something Paul emphasized in his letters to the Thessalonians.
Some individuals, of course, see the hope of rescue from heaven as a
crutch. It’s for the weak. It’s an escape, they think. It’s a way of not dealing
with real problems.
Well, we see something quite different when we read these epistles. In
2 Thessalonians 1:3, Paul compliments these believers on their faith, that
“grows exceedingly,” and on their love which “abounds toward each other.”
And then he writes in verse four: “We ourselves boast of you among
the churches of God for your patience and faith in all your persecutions and
tribulations that you endure” (2 Thessalonians 1:4).
These Thessalonians were enduring persecution. Paul knew about that
firsthand. His preaching had caused a riot in their city. The believers had to
send him away at night because of threats on his life. You can read the story
in Acts 17.
Well, how were the Thessalonians doing in the face of tough times,
opposition, persecution? How did these people do who had their head in the
clouds, so to speak, awaiting the return of Christ so expectantly? Did they
wilt under pressure? Did they just try to run away - escape into some make-
believe world?
They stood fast! They showed real backbone. They didn’t just endure
in tough times, their faith and love abounded in tough times. They became
such an example of patient strength in tribulation that Paul couldn’t help
boasting about them to all the other churches.
Friends, a great hope, the right kind of hope, can help us stand fast in
the worst of times. It enables us to face with confidence what might
otherwise intimidate us.
Hope in the return of our faithful friend, Jesus Christ, can give us inner
strength. It enables us to stand fast. That’s a theme that Paul carries through
these epistles.
In these verses, Paul says that he wants to “encourage you concerning
your faith, that no one should be shaken by these afflictions; for you
yourselves know that we are appointed to this” (1 Thessalonians 3:2, 3).
We don’t have to be shaken up by hard times, Paul says. We may well
have to endure hardship for the sake of Christ. But that enables us to bear
witness for him. We’re part of a great cause. We have a great destiny. We’re
headed toward a rendezvous with the King of kings.
“Stand fast,” Paul urges. That’s the good way of waiting. That comes
from having a real hope in our hearts.
In the mid-1960s, a brilliant young musician was becoming China’s
leading concert pianist. Liu Shih-kun won second prize in the First
International Tchaikovsky Competition - at the age of 19. Liu had
established a worldwide reputation.
But then the Cultural Revolution swept through China. Everything
Western had to be condemned. Everything upper class had to be renounced.
But Liu just couldn’t bring himself to abandon the music he’d loved
since childhood. So he was arrested as “an enemy of the people” and
imprisoned.
While languishing in a tiny cell, Liu endured merciless beatings. He
was totally isolated. He had no books to read - except for the teachings of
Mao. He had no paper to write on. And most importantly of all, for him - he
had no piano. His music had been taken away from him.
Liu remained in prison for six long years. He would have probably
stayed there many more years had not Richard Nixon made his historic visit
to China. Anew spirit of mutual respect began to blossom. An imprisoned
concert pianist became a bit of an embarrassment to the People’s Republic.
So, Liu was released from jail, temporarily, and asked to perform in
Beijing with the Philadelphia Orchestra.
Communist officials didn’t understand that a musician couldn’t
possibly play well after six years without a piano. They have to practice
every single day - or their skills quickly wither away.
The day of the concert came. The frail prisoner walked onto the stage
and bowed to the orchestra. He adjusted his seat at the grand piano and
placed his fingertips gently on the white keys.
The music began. And incredibly enough, Liu Shih-kun played
flawlessly, brilliantly. Western visitors who knew his story were astounded.
After Liu’s final release, he continued playing brilliantly - his hands flew
over the keys as if they’d never stopped playing. And this musician was
able to resume a career that had been cut off so tragically.
Liu Shih-kun, you see, had kept a secret from the Red Guards during
his years of imprisonment. They’d tried to take his music away from him.
They’d even denied him paper so he couldn’t make any musical notations.
But they couldn’t take away a mind that still burned with passion and hope.
Liu Shih-kun did practice every day of those long years in his tiny
prison cell. He rested his fingertips lightly on a bare cement ledge, and he
played his beloved piano pieces over and over. His vivid, disciplined
imagination created a keyboard no one else could see.
That’s why he was ready to walk out on that concert stage - out of the
dark of his cell and into the bright spotlight - and perform so brilliantly.
Was Liu just another absent-minded professor there, tapping away in
prison? Was he just escaping from reality? I don’t think so. The love of
music burned in his soul. He kept alive a hope of someday playing again -
on a grand piano, with a real orchestra, in a real concert. And that hope paid
off.
Friends, the hope of Christ’s glorious return is what can keep us going
- even when everything is taken away from us, even in the worst of times.
It’s what keeps us practicing. It’s what keeps us working - quietly, faithfully,
productively.
We have our mind set on a better world coming. Even if God’s
qualities are not rewarded here and now, we believe in them; we still hear
the music of grace and love and faith. We can keep growing toward God’s
quality of life.
We can remain steadfast. We can endure the tiny, dark, prison cell.
Because we know that someday God will bring us into the light on a
glorious stage. Someday the notes we’ve practiced will turn into a full
orchestra - with angels singing and heavenly trumpets blasting and a
glorious sound that fills up the whole sky.
Are you living productively today? Are you living God’s quality of
life? Are you standing fast? Are you waiting - in the good way?
Let’s resolve to keep the right music alive in our hearts now. Let’s
resolve to keep the real hope burning bright.
Yes, the hope of Christ’s coming can have a powerful impact on the
way we live each day. We don’t have to stumble into a well because we’re
staring at the stars. We can live fruitful, abundant lives - because God’s
qualities are alive in us.
 Chapter 4

Falling for the Wrong Hope

He’s a figure we need to beware of. A powerful individual who can

make darkness seem like light and lawlessness masquerade as truth.
He’s all the more dangerous because so many people follow him,
admire him, obey him, and even worship him.
He’s the antichrist, Satan’s last, best attempt to turn human beings away
from the One who can save them. He’ll be using all the tricks up his sleeve.
But we’ll learn that there’s a very simple way of making sure we won’t
fall for the wrong Savior.
We’ve been talking about how the great expectation of Christ’s coming
can shape our lives in a positive way. We’ve seen ways in which hope is a
good thing, ways in which we are ennobled by becoming part of something
greater than our individual lives.
But great expectations can work both ways. It’s possible to place our
expectations, place our hope, in the wrong thing. It’s possible to be swept
up by something bigger than ourselves - but something that’s headed in the
wrong direction! It’s possible to place our faith in the wrong person.
Paul deals with this danger very directly in his second letter to the
Thessalonians. He’d been writing these believers about the glorious return
of Christ, about how wonderful it will be - caught up together in the clouds
to meet the Lord.
But in 2 Thessalonians, he paused to write about another event that
threatens to get in the way of that glorious reunion. It’s a kind of anti-Second
Coming, if you please.
Let’s look at 2 Thessalonians 2: “Let no one deceive you by any means;
for that Day [the day of Christ’s return] will not come unless the falling
away comes first, and the man of sin is revealed, the son of perdition” (2
Thessalonians 2:3).
Before Christ returns in glory, another figure will make a dramatic
appearance: the man of sin, the son of perdition.
That last phrase appears only one other place in the Bible - John
17:12. Jesus applies it there to Judas, the disciple who allowed Satan to
enter his heart and who betrayed his Lord.
This figure may well have a religious exterior; he may appear to be
close to God, but he really betrays all that Christ stands for. He’s the “man
of sin”; he’s the antichrist.
Let’s look at three things that distinguish this figure.
1. The man of sin takes God’s place.
First of all, he attempts to take the place of God. Paul identifies the
man of sin as one “who opposes and exalts himself above all that is called
God or that is worshiped, so that he sits as God in the temple of God” (2
Thessalonians 2:4).
This brings to mind phrases in the Bible that describe what the angel,
Lucifer, did in heaven - how he tried to exalt his throne above the throne of
God.
Lucifer, who became Satan, did indeed try to take God’s place. And he
is the real power behind this “man of sin.” He’s still at it. And he uses this
charismatic, religious figure to try to deceive God’s people.
So what do we need to beware of? Any individual who tries to play
God in the lives of his followers. Cult leaders almost always end up doing
that. Slowly they convince their flock that only they speak the truth. Beware
of any religious authority that claims to be infallible. Beware of anyone who
says, “When I’m speaking; it’s God speaking.”
No human being can do that - ever. We might be able to share insights
from God on occasion. We might be able to shed light on the meaning of
Scripture. But no one can ever claim to speak in the place of God - period.
Now, let’s look at the next thing that characterizes the “man of sin.”
2. The man of sin make up his own rules.
He is identified with lawlessness. Paul says: “For the mystery of
lawlessness is already at work” (2 Thessalonians 2:7).
And again in verse eight: “Then the lawless one will be revealed.”
What does “lawlessness” mean here? This powerful religious figure
doesn’t conform to God’s law, God’s principles. He makes up his own
rules. He doesn’t feel bound by any truth but his own.
David Koresh made up his own rules. He claimed that, as a type of
King David, he had the right to take the wives of his followers. People
accepted this man’s bizarre beliefs as truth. And so they became victims of
his lawlessness.
Jim Jones made up his own rules. He claimed that mass suicide was
the way to get ready for the apocalypse. People accepted this man’s bizarre
beliefs as truth. They drank the poisoned Kool-Aid; they became victims of
his lawlessness.
Members of the Heaven’s Gate cult became victims in the same way.
They accepted their leader’s strange teachings about a comet rescue as
absolute truth. And they ended up killing themselves.
Anyone who stands above God’s law, God’s principles, is going to end
up destroying lives, making victims out of lawlessness.
And Paul writes that the “mystery of lawlessness is already at work.”
The spirit of the Antichrist has already worked destructively through
various figures down through history. And it’s all a prelude to the final,
great deception.
Now, to the third thing that characterizes the “man of sin.” He uses the
miraculous to deceive.
3. The man of sin misuses the miraculous.
Let’s look at 2 Thessalonians 2: “The coming of the lawless one is
according to the working of Satan, with all power, signs, and lying wonders,
and with all unrighteous deception among those who perish” (2
Thessalonians 2:9, 10).
This powerful figure seems to wield supernatural power. Remember
that the power of Satan is behind him. He will perform wonders that seem
miraculous. That’s one big reason so many people follow after him.
Revelation tells us that at times he seems to deceive the whole world.
There’s an incident in the book of Acts that sheds an interesting light on
this. It’s found in Acts 19. Paul was preaching the gospel in Ephesus.
And his message was accompanied by miraculous signs and wonders.
God worked through him to heal many of the sick and even to cast out
demons. This created quite a stir. It created quite a stir among religious
people who saw Paul as a troublemaker. How did they respond?
Let’s look at Acts 19: “Then some of the itinerant Jewish exorcists
took it upon themselves to call the name of the Lord Jesus over those who
had evil spirits” (Acts 19:13).
What was happening here? People who did not believe in Jesus,
people who’d rejected Him as the Messiah, were trying to use the name of
Jesus to perform miracles.
Ephesus had quite a reputation for its trade in magic. And magical
exorcists usually invoked the names of higher spirits to cast out lower ones.
According to magical theory, you could make a deity or spirit do what you
wanted it to do by invoking its special name.
So these people just thought that Jesus might be some high-powered
spirit who could throw his weight around. Paul certainly seemed to be doing
a lot with him.
Among those who wanted to use the name of Jesus were the seven sons
of a chief priest named Sceva. They thought they might be able to start quite
a family business this way.
 But something happened when they tried to cast out a demon. Look at
Acts 19 again: “And the evil spirit answered and said, ‘Jesus I know, and
Paul I know; but who are you?’ Then the man in whom the evil spirit was
leaped on them, overpowered them, and prevailed against them, so that they
fled out of that house naked and wounded” (Acts 19:15, 16).
Just because you use the right name, just because you use the right
words, doesn’t mean you have the right connection. People can play with
magic - and yet not have any connection with God’s truth.
We can’t automatically equate signs with godliness. Things aren’t
always what they appear to be. Character always counts more than flashy
performance. Spirituality is always more important than power.
The dazzling appearance of the antichrist is Satan’s last attempt to
divert our hope from the real Jesus, the Christ who will appear in glory in
the heavens. Satan wants to distract us with some razzle-dazzle here on
earth.
Just remember that no one has the right to speak for God.
No one has the right to make up their own rules.
And no miracle can justify anyone trying to do that.
Well, we’ve looked at some of the characteristics that help us identify
the antichrist, the “man of sin.” These are things that really mark various
kinds of unhealthy religious groups; they are signs that something’s wrong.
But Paul tells us something even more important in his second letter to
the Thessalonians. He also shows why people are attracted to these kinds of
groups, why people keep falling for the wrong kind of hope.
And in doing this, the apostle shows us the best way we can avoid
being seduced by “the man of sin,” how we can avoid getting sucked into
any unhealthy religious group.
Look at 2 Thessalonians 2, starting with verse 9. That’s where Paul
refers to the “lawless one” as someone who will work “signs and lying
wonders.”
And in verse 10, he says this will result in “all unrighteous deception
among those who perish.” And then he explains why these unfortunate
people are deceived: “because they did not receive the love of the truth, that
they might be saved” (2 Thessalonians 2:10).
Why are people deceived? Why do they get sucked into so much
falsehood? Because they don’t receive something else - “the love of the
truth.”
Having a “love of the truth” is what leads to salvation. That’s what
leads to security.
But what exactly does it mean?
 Well, people who love the truth respect it as something separate from
themselves. It’s not just what they want to believe. It’s not just a matter of
what suits them. It’s not just their opinion.
No, to love the truth is to believe in it as something you have to
conform to. Truth doesn’t have to fit you; you have to fit the truth. You don’t
make the Word of God conform to your attitudes and tastes; you make your
attitudes and tastes conform to the Word of God.
Paul talks about why people receive a strong delusion, why they
believe the lie. He says the bottom line is this, they “did not believe the truth
but had pleasure in unrighteousness” (2 Thessalonians 2:12).
People often lose their love of the truth because they start loving
something else. They’re clinging to something that’s wrong, something
unrighteous.
And so their hold on the truth loosens. They’re not comfortable with it.
They start putting distance between themselves and conviction. Or they start
distorting what God is trying to tell them.
Cult leaders are masters at manipulating the truth. They make it serve
their own ends. And they make it fit the mind-set of their followers. Their
followers are hearing what they want to hear. That’s why they get sucked in.
Many people who are deceived by unhealthy religious groups are
vulnerable emotionally. Many feel isolated. So the cult leader says things
that make them feel accepted, make them feel part of a very exclusive group.
Acceptance is a good thing. That’s part of God’s grace and love. But in
listening to religious leaders, even ones that appear very nice and loving,
we have to hang on to something very important - a love of the truth. That’s
what Paul is telling us to do.
You can’t give up your God-given ability to reflect and think. You can’t
let someone else do your thinking for you. You have to compare what a
religious teacher says to what the Bible says. You have to compare his truth
to the clear principles of Scripture.
That’s what loving the truth means on a practical level. God has
promised to give us wisdom. God has promised to give us discernment. We
can develop that wisdom and discernment as we carefully and prayerfully
study God’s Word.
Above all, please remember that, in the Bible, the truth is summed up
in one Word - Jesus. He is the way, the truth, and the life.
Truth is not just an abstraction we debate and dissect. A love of the
truth doesn’t just mean we like to argue the fine points of doctrine. A love of
the truth means we see Jesus Christ. We sit at His feet and learn as
disciples. We seek His wisdom in His Word. He becomes the standard in
our lives, the measure of all things, the first and last word.
There are all kinds of manipulative religious leaders who will try to
seduce us. And their deceptions will only become more intense as we
approach the second coming of Christ. But there’s one simple way we can
avoid falling for all the lies, one simple way we can avoid being seduced.
And that’s to love the truth in Jesus Christ, to seek it sincerely and
devotedly.
Are you doing that today? Are you sitting at the feet of Jesus? He can
give you the wisdom and discernment you need. Please make a commitment
to spend time, prayerful time, listening to His voice. Start building your life
on His principles.
 Chapter 5

Your Destiny - Your Desire

It will be the most glorious event in human history.

But for some it will come with all the shocking terror of a thief
bursting into their home at midnight.
In this chapter, well discover why the coming of Jesus will be such a
big surprise to so many. And we’ll find out how to get ready for that
rendezvous with destiny.
In his first letter to the Thessalonians, Paul painted a glorious picture
of the return of Christ to this earth, of a Savior bursting through the clouds
and sweeping believers up toward heaven. It was a message of comfort for
those who’d lost loved ones. It was a message of comfort for people
enduring persecution.
But then he turned to a question on the Thessalonians’ minds. And it’s a
question that still troubles believers today. When? The time of Christ’s
return. When would it be?
Look at 1 Thessalonians, the beginning of chapter 5. Paul writes: “But
concerning the times and the seasons, brethren, you have no need that I
should write to you. For you yourselves know perfectly that the day of the
Lord so comes as a thief in the night” (1 Thessalonians 5:1, 2).
Interestingly enough, a lot of people in Paul’s day speculated quite a bit
about “times and seasons” and “the day of the Lord.” Some Jewish circles
debated whether the righteous could hasten the time of the end or whether it
would simply come when God ordained it. A few worked up elaborate
schemes to predict that it was about to happen.
That’s still going on today.
But apparently, Paul chose not to subscribe to any prevailing theories.
He’d given the Thessalonians a general picture of the end times. He’d given
them a very specific picture of how Christ would come. And he left it at
that.
His only answer to the speculation about when was to remind them of
this: “The day of the Lord so comes as a thief in the night.” Paul was more
concerned about people being ready for that event.
And he said, in effect, it’s going to be a big surprise, a shocking
surprise. He explains the thief in the night image this way: “For when they
say, ‘Peace and safety!’ then sudden destruction comes upon them, as labor
pains upon a pregnant woman. And they shall not escape” (1 Thessalonians
5:3).
Roman emperors had made quite a noise about establishing peace and
security in their vast empire. Pax et securitas, they called it. Roman might
prevailed everywhere.
So this was a rather subversive statement for Paul to make. He was
calling into question the Pax Romana, the Roman Peace. After all, one way
they tried to maintain the public peace was to persecute Christians.
Paul said sudden destruction would come upon those enveloped in the
might of empire. Those boasting about their conquests would suddenly
convulse in terror.
Any peace based on possessing something on earth would evaporate.
Paul was challenging complacency, false security. He was challenging
people who insulated themselves from God. That’s a big obstacle to being
ready for the return of Christ.
But where does that leave the believer? Are they supposed to look
forward to Christ coming - as a thief?
Paul answers this in chapter 5 of 1 Thessalonians: “But you, brethren,
are not in darkness, so that this Day should overtake you as a thief. You are
all sons of light and sons of the day. We are not of the night nor of darkness.
Therefore let us not sleep, as others do, but let us watch and be sober” (1
Thessalonians 5:4-6).
Paul helps us understand something very important about the second
coming of Christ. Christ doesn’t want to come like a thief in the night. He
will only appear to come like a thief to those who are asleep, spiritually
asleep, spiritually dead.
Some religious people imagine that God isn’t telling us exactly when
He’s coming back so He can surprise us, so He can catch us doing
something wrong. They use the “thief in the night” image to try to scare
others into getting ready for Christ’s return.
Paul, however, expresses confidence, assurance. You are children of
light, he tells the Thessalonian believers. The Day of the Lord will not
overtake you like a thief. Why? Not because we know the exact time but
because we’re ready. Not because God has revealed the precise moment but
because we surrender to Him this moment. We are children of light. We are
responding to the light of God’s grace, the light of His love. We aren’t
shutting it off. We aren’t spiritually asleep.
Paul makes the distinction clearer in verses 7 and 8 in chapter 5: “For
those who sleep, sleep at night, and those who get drunk are drunk at night.
But let us who are of the day be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and
love, and as a helmet the hope of salvation” (1 Thessalonians 5:7, 8).
Here, Paul is using the biblical image of darkness or night as a symbol
of evil. Those who slumber spiritually are attracted to the night. They seek
cover; they’re hiding from God. They’re trying to block out God’s messages,
maybe through drink, maybe through staying busy all the time. It could be
any number of things.
But children of light are spiritually awake, sober. They’re growing in
faith and love. They fasten on the hope of salvation in Christ.
Two kinds of people. Two destinies. One group ready for the return of
Christ. One group caught by surprise. One group attracted to the light. The
other scurrying into the dark.
Back in the 1820s, the Indian state of Kolhapur was terrorized by a
vicious band of thieves. And the Rajah, or ruler, of Kolhapur seemed unable
to stop them. This was the era of powerful maharajas who wore exquisite
silks and surrounded themselves with gold and gems. The Rajah of
Kolhapur had plenty of resources at his disposal.
So, he increased the size of his personal army. He hand-picked guards
to surround himself and his valuables.
But the band of thieves still kept breaking into his treasury and
plundering the countryside.
The Rajah’s word was law in the land. And sometimes he would
thunder in a rage, “These devils must be stopped! I want their leader caught,
and I want him killed, and I want him now!”
But no one ever did catch the infamous villain. The band went right on
stealing and killing for the rest of the Rajah’s life.
And that’s because, incredibly enough, the Rajah of Kolhapur, had
become a kind of Jekyll and Hyde.
By day, he was the proud, protective sovereign, calling for law and
order. By night, he led that band of cutthroat robbers. He plundered his own
kingdom and stole from himself!
Friends, the thief in the night that we have to fear isn’t Christ - it’s us!
We’re the ones who can treat that glorious event as a shocking breakin. We
do it when we start requiring the cover of darkness. We do it when we hang
on to destructive behavior that eats away at our relationship with God.
But that’s not the way God wants it. He doesn’t want to come like a
thief. He is coming to rescue His children of light. Paul makes sure we see
the end times in that perspective.
Look again at 1 Thessalonians, chapter 5: “For God did not appoint us
to wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for
us, that… we should live together with Him” (1 Thessalonians 5:9, 10).
Children of light have a destiny: salvation in Jesus Christ. Paul doesn’t
urge us to be alert in a fearful, anxious sense. We don’t keep a sharp lookout
because God is trying to sneak up on us. No, we are alert and expectant
because we are confident of our destiny.
We know that it’s our Friend who’s coming, the One who died for us.
We comfort each other with this bright hope. We encourage each other with
this great expectation. That’s what it means to be watchful instead of asleep
on the day of the Lord.
We have something wonderful called “everlasting consolation and
good hope.”
Let’s look at 2 Thessalonians: “Now may our Lord Jesus Christ
Himself, and our God and Father, who has loved us and given us everlasting
consolation and good hope by grace, comfort your hearts and establish you
in every good word and work” (2 Thessalonians 2:16, 17).
Notice the connection between experiencing hope and being
established “in every good word and work.” Again, we see that those who
have the “good hope,” the comfort, the great expectation, are growing.
They’re going somewhere. They have a clear direction.
But people who are spiritually asleep - don’t know where they’re
going. They’re just there. They may be in motion, but they don’t know where
they’re going.
A story is told about the biologist, Thomas Huxley, arriving late in a
city where he had to deliver a lecture. He jumped into a cab, which at that
time was a horse-drawn carriage, and he yelled up at the driver, “Top
speed!”
The cabby obediently cracked his whip and the vehicle went bumping
along the streets at a wild clip. The frazzled Huxley settled into his seat for
a second, greatly relieved, and then sat up with a jolt.
He called up, “Hear, hear do you know where I want to go?”
“No, your honor,” the cabby replied, “But I’m driving as fast as I can.”
An awful lot of people are in motion these days. There’s a lot going on
in their lives. They’re always going somewhere fast. But the fact is, too
many don’t really know where they’re going; they don’t know where their
lives are headed.
That’s what happens when you doze off spiritually. You lose your
bearings. You lose that confident sense of destiny. And suddenly, Christ’s
return comes on you like a thief in the night.
An absent-minded scholar was riding the train one day, totally
absorbed in his reading. The conductor walked by and asked for his ticket.
The scholar reached into all his pockets but couldn’t find it. He began
checking again, rather frantically.
So the conductor said, very kindly, “Never mind, sir, when you find it,
mail it to the company. I’m certain you have it.”
The scholar shot back in a panic, “I know I have it. But what I want to
know is, where in the world am I going?”
He’d forgotten where he was headed. You know, some religious
people are a bit like that. They know they got on the right train at some point
in their lives. They joined the church. They put their names on the books.
But they’ve become absorbed in other things. They’ve lost their sense
of direction. That ticket to heaven is buried somewhere deep in their
pockets, all but forgotten. They’d have to pull it out to remember where
they’re going.
Those who are asleep have lost their sense of direction. What God
wants us to have is a confident sense of destiny - in the present. Those who
are awake, spiritually alert, know where they’re going - in their hearts.
They’re putting on the breastplate of faith and love. They’re being
established in every good word and work. They don’t need a ticket to
remind them of their destination.
How do we get ready for the return of Christ? How do we stay alert?
First, we become children of light. As Paul says, “Let us who are of
the day be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and love” (1
Thessalonians 5:8). We keep responding to what God is saying to us.
Second, we gain a confident sense of destiny. We keep growing toward
our destiny in Christ. Paul affirms that God appointed us “to obtain
salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Thessalonians 5:9).
Now, let’s look at the third thing that characterizes those who are ready
for Christ to return. It’s something very simple. It’s something that underlies
so much of what Paul wrote to the Thessalonians. It’s so pervasive, in fact,
that we might overlook it.
It’s all about desire - a desire for Christ to come.
Note carefully how Paul describes the Second Coming. He pictures it
as a time: “when He comes, in that Day, to be glorified in His saints and to
be admired among all those who believe” (2 Thessalonians 1:10).
Paul sees the glorious Christ as an object of great admiration. In other
verses here he writes of the event as a time of deliverance from the wrath to
come, a time when believers are called into God’s kingdom and glory, a
time of wonderful reunion.
Let’s look at 1 Thessalonians: “For what is our hope, or joy, or crown
of rejoicing? Is it not even you in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at
His coming?” (1 Thessalonians 2:19).
What’s clear from all these verses is this: Paul wanted Jesus to come.
He looked forward to it earnestly. He passionately desired to witness that
great event. It was truly a great expectation, a joyful expectation.
Paul wanted Jesus to come. That’s why he was alert.
Sometimes we need to ask ourselves - do we really want Jesus to
come? Is that our desire?
Those who are spiritually asleep have lost their desire. They’re just
coasting, so to speak. They’re not longing for something.
Being ready for Christ to return really boils down to something basic:
Wanting Him to return. It’s about desire.
And we can’t manufacture that desire. We can’t try to make ourselves
want Jesus to return. That desire is a byproduct of something else. It’s a
byproduct of a loving relationship with Christ. It’s the result of getting to
know Him.
If you’re confident that Christ is your Savior, if you’re confident that
Christ is your friend, then, of course, you want to see Him face to face.
But, if you’re not so sure, if you’ve just stuffed that ticket to heaven
deep in your pocket and forgotten about it, if you find yourself hiding from
God in the dark, then Jesus starts to look like a thief breaking in at night.
Do you want Jesus to come? That’s a question each of us needs to
answer.
Please remember that God doesn’t want to sneak up on us at midnight.
He doesn’t want His coming to be a terrifying surprise.
God wants us to be children of light.
God wants to give us a confident sense of destiny.
God wants us to get to know Him so we will long for His return.
You can find all that in these two epistles to the Thessalonians. They
are letters sent to us from a long way off. But they have momentum. They
point us toward the most glorious event in history. They show us how
wonderful it can be to live with great expectations.
We need to heed the message in these precious letters. They are a call
that no one should miss.
An American general named Taylor met destiny one day when he
confronted an army four times the size of his own. It was the Mexican War.
Taylor’s troops were up against General Santa Ana’s Mexican forces.
But, though vastly outnumbered, Taylor managed to outmaneuver his
adversary and win a decisive victory at the battle of Buena Vista.
He became a national hero. After he retired to his plantation near
Baton Rouge, all kinds of people wrote him congratulatory letters. Taylor
appreciated the correspondence at first, but soon it was just more than he
could handle. Many of the letters had insufficient postage and started piling
up at the post office.
Finally, General Taylor just decided to decline any more mail. The
local postmaster had it all sent to the dead-letter office in Washington.
That would have been the end of the story, and the end of Taylor’s
career, except for the chance visit of an old friend. This man, off-handedly,
asked if he’d received a very important letter from Philadelphia.
Well, the general hadn’t received a lot of mail.
But this friend persuaded Taylor to contact the dead-letter office and
try to get it back. He did.
And that’s why General Zachary Taylor finally received an invitation
to a certain political convention in Philadelphia. That’s why he was
nominated. That’s why he became the twelfth president of the United States
of America.
He almost missed the call. It was buried in the dead-letter office in
Washington.
Friends, my prayer is that none of you will miss the most important call
in your life. I don’t want any of you to miss your destiny in Christ. The
invitation is right here in these letters. They don’t belong in your stack of
junk mail, unopened, unread. They tell you all about the glorious event that’s
coming soon. They tell you how you can look forward to it with great
expectation.
You can be a child of light.
You can be confident in your destiny.
You can know that a Friend is coming for you.
Let’s start living our lives with great expectation.