In all the swirling imagery, the central purpose of all Scripture is to teach the good news of the gospel: Christ has come to save. And the whole book of Revelation is just the same. These judgments show us the completion of God’s good work. And the end purpose of God’s work of salvation is that He should abide with us and we with Him. He is our God, and we are His people.

Because we are His, we can rejoice at His coming and at the restoration of righteousness. Judgment must come. Justice is necessary because He is justice. He will make all things right. He will not allow wickedness to go on forever.

God’s judgment is total, and our only option is Jesus. For those of us in Christ, our judgment was paid by Christ at the cross. The weight of our judgment has already fallen on Him. Therefore, we should rejoice at God’s coming judgment because it will restore righteousness.

We are His, and so we need not fear any present tribulation. The consequences of evil in this world are scary, and the threat to believers is real. But “the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous” (1Peter 3:12). He is always with us, and He cares for us. His ears are open to our prayers, and He is not indifferent to our cries. Even in judgment, God is merciful to those who love Him.

We need not fear because we are His. Instead, we can be people of hope, joy, and peace. This is cause for great rejoicing. His justice is ongoing, and this passage is not the final judgment but a picture of God’s ongoing work in the world. He is constantly doling out mercy to us, deferring judgment, calling us back to Him. His work is not done in our families or in our communities. Therefore, have hope for your children, for your parents, and for your neighbors who are not yet believers. God is constantly at work.

When Nehemiah returned to Jerusalem, the walls were still standing, but the people had fallen apart. They had forgotten who they were and what God had called them to do. It was so discouraging after the celebration and commemoration ceremonies in the previous chapters. We all want a happy ending for these people who worked so hard and endured so much.

On this side of heaven, things will never be perfect. Because of the curse of sin, we will always struggle. But there are three things I think we can learn about the gospel from this passage.

First, notice what Nehemiah did before he let his righteous anger fly. He gathered the whole community and read the book of Moses. I think it’s safe to say that he read the Pentateuch—at the very least, the Ten Commandments, and at the most, he sat them down for hours and read the whole thing. Either way, before He brought them to justice for breaking God’s law, he reminded them of God’s law. He established their common ground. When we are struggling, we must return to God’s Word to remember who we are and to whom we belong.

Second, remember that Nehemiah was a man of prayer. He prayed before he even answered the king. He was a steady and continuous man of prayer. While he brought judgment to the people, he kept stopping to pray. He cried out: “Remember me for this, my God, and don’t erase the deeds of faithful love I have done for the house of my God and for its services….look on me with compassion according to the abundance of your faithful love” (Nehemiah 13:14, 22). It’s clear that prayer was an integral part of Nehemiah’s actions. When we find that we are inadequate, when things have gone wrong, we must turn to God in prayer.

Finally, let’s notice that even Nehemiah, the guy who is known for prayer and Scripture reading, couldn’t get it perfectly right. He was a great leader and a true man of God, but he still wasn’t able to create a perfect city. He couldn’t totally stamp out corruption. He couldn’t get people to follow the rules. The people fell into the same sins that sent them into exile in the first place, and Nehemiah couldn’t fix them.

Christ is the only One who can complete the work. He changes hearts, He mends families, and He is making all things new. We are called to read His Word, submit ourselves to prayer, and realize that no matter how dedicated or good we think we are at self-maintenance, we cannot achieve a perfect utopia. We can barely keep the Tower of London from falling down! So we ought to do the work He has called to do and rest in Christ who is the only One who can truly call a task finished.

When Nehemiah arrived in Jerusalem, he needed to do more than stack bricks and hang gates; he needed to rebuild a people. These people were born into exile. They had never actually seen Jerusalem. They’d only heard stories about it. All they knew was life without a home, without traditions, and without community. They had nothing. So as Nehemiah began to rebuild Jerusalem, he also had to learn how to rebuild the community. And each one of those people mattered.

This genealogy in Nehemiah chapter 7 is a list of the Israelites released by Cyrus from exile in 538 BC that Nehemiah recounted in making a new census when he came back to the city. It’s a wonderfully meticulous list that even includes the number of mules that moved back to the city (there were 245). More importantly, it tells us a lot about who these people were and how much people matter to God. In verse 7, twelve leaders are listed, and those twelve were representatives of the twelve tribes—showing us that they weren’t just a part of the covenant but were once again whole and entitled to the full blessings of God’s covenant promises.

Each family’s descendants were also counted. Some families were massive (Senaah had 3,930 descendants!), and some families’ reunions were more modest (Beth Azmaveth had only 42). Regardless of how large or small, they were counted by family and not all heaped together because individuals and their lineage matters to God.

Priests, Levites, musicians, and gatekeepers were also counted, indicating that our callings matter to God. Temple servants were listed using their foreign names because they were not Hebrew-born, having joined with Israel through conversion to their God. Because God redeems the lives of His servants (Psalm 34:22), He makes them equal inheritors of the covenant with those who could trace their lineage all the way back to Abraham.

And finally, there were some who searched the records but were unable to discover their heritage because their families had been so torn apart by the exile. These, too, were listed, and their value was not diminished. Children born into captivity were valued just the same, regardless of their parentage.

From there, the people settled back into their towns and began to knit their lives together. That’s as close as we get to “happily every after” in the book of Nehemiah. But in reading this book, we see that God’s eye was always on His people, restoring not just a broken city but a broken people as well. He cares about each one of us, our families, our homes, and our lives. And if we are in Christ, we are co-inheritors of His covenant blessings just as much as any son of Abraham.

But I feel like I’d rather do something else this morning. I feel like I’m called to read my book about walnut trees and drink coffee. Once I’ve had my coffee, I feel like I’m actually called to write my own book about trees (Oh my goodness, can you believe how the walnut flowers form in the spring!). But really, what I’m actually called to right now is to wash those dishes. So if I’m longing for a higher calling than that, then I should aim to wash those dishes cheerfully.

Now there’s a high calling: do the work that is set before you, no matter what it may be, with a cheerful heart. Paul wasn’t joking when he wrote, “Whatever you do, do it from the heart, as something done for the Lord” (Colossians 3:23). In other words, we are to do even our most mundane tasks for the Lord. Martin Luther King Jr. famously and beautifully said, “If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, ‘Here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.’”

We are called to cheerfully work as unto the Lord, even if we are dealing with drudgery or severe oppression from every standpoint. In this, we experience the highest and most difficult human act, that of humility in all our work and relationships. We also learn how to love the Lord with our entire being—heart, soul, and strength—submitting our will to His in all circumstances (Deuteronomy 6:4–5).

Why? Our reward isn’t the applause of men or the accumulation of riches (even from the hypothetical publication of a thrilling tome on walnut leaves). Our reward and inheritance is from the Lord. We serve Christ, and what an honor that is to serve the one who knelt and washed the filthy feet of His slow-to-listen, little-in-faith, betraying disciples (John 13:1–17). We are to serve in the same way He bore the cross for us. His humility is our example. He teaches us by example. May we learn “to act justly, to love faithfulness, and to walk humbly with [our] God” (Micah 6:8).

Really, I’m not in bad company. Schaeffer famously argued, “Regardless of a man’s system, he has to live in God’s world.” It can be a tricky thing, living in this world, don’t you think? We are tempted to act like we’re in charge here—like we’re running the show and the whole world belongs to us. It doesn’t. This is God’s world, and we are here to glorify Him. 

This world tells us to work harder and be smarter, to say all the right things at just the right time, to wear fashionable hosiery (something other than, say, blue knee-high socks). We can attempt to apply this system to our faith, to try to do more to make ourselves just a little more worthy of God. But this is treating the world as ours, to be managed and regulated as we humans think it ought to be run. 

This is the lie some Colossians were being persuaded to believe. Paul’s rebuke in this letter against legalism, righteousness by works, self-made religion and asceticism was speaking against the false teachers in Colossae who had forgotten the true gospel, that Christ alone is our justifier (Colossians 1:12–23, Romans 3:26). “Therefore,” Paul instructs, “don’t let anyone judge you in regard to food and drink or in the matter of a festival or a new moon or a Sabbath day,” or any other regulation (Colossians 2:16).

You can almost hear Paul’s frustration, “If you died with Christ to the elements of this world, why do you live as if you still belonged to the world? Why do you submit to regulations: ‘Don’t handle, don’t taste, don’t touch’?” (vv.20–21). Instead of trying to follow the world’s instructions, we are called to pursue the Lord, and seek what He loves. Jesus promises wisdom from above, and the fruit of His wisdom “is first pure, then peace-loving, gentle, compliant, full of mercy and good fruits, unwavering, without pretense. And the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace by those who cultivate peace” (James 3:17–18).

Paul reminds us there is true freedom in this: We belong to Christ. While we live in this fallen world in need of grace, we belong to another King and His kingdom. We can be free of the tyranny of the rules of this world, by grace through faith in Jesus Christ.

No matter how loving and beloved we are, there are still little things that can make us doubt that we belong. And belonging is so important to us. I ache to feel cherished by my friends and family. And while I can admit the possibility that my jokes are keeping some people at arm’s length, there is no doubt at all about my belonging in the family of God.

“In him we have boldness and confident access through faith in him” (Ephesians 3:12). It’s a done deal with Christ. We aren’t just acquaintances; we are part and parcel of His family tree. “You, though a wild olive branch, were grafted in among them and have come to share in the rich root” (Romans 11:17). Yes! We are blessed to share in the rich root of God’s blessing. What a relief to be invited into confident access.

And we don’t earn this boldness through our hard work at pleasing Him or trying to make our girlfriends laugh. “For [we] are saved by grace through faith, and this is not from yourselves; it is God’s gift—not from works, so that no one can boast” (Ephesians 2:8–9). Our belonging is God’s gift to us, and we are now servants of the gospel of grace that unites (Ephesians 3:7). There are no earthly relationships that come close to that totally one-sided deal. His love is a free gift to us, and in exchange, we have the favor and lovingkindness of a King.

I like to imagine that the early Church was full of people just like us, hoping to belong, hoping to fit in, wondering if it was too soon to make jokes about the Pompeii earthquake. The beautiful truth is the Church is made up of all kinds of folks. But “God wanted to make known among the Gentiles the glorious wealth of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory” (Colossians 1:27). The hope of Christ is our eternal belonging in His glory and presence.

When spring came and the mayapples and trillium started covering the paths, we picked flowers and continued stomping. The leaves burst out from the trees almost overnight after a big storm, and branches we hadn’t noticed enough to trim back whacked us in the face on the new trails. We watched spring happen on our feet that year—the succession of blooms culminating in the crisp, white blackberry flowers arrested our attention like never before. When summer came, we were shoulder to shoulder with trees, our barren trails made into green, leafy hallways throughout the wood. Fruit that lay dormant burst forth, and winter gave way to life again and again. 

Paul opened his letter to the Ephesians with a prayer that sums up the whole intent of Scripture: “I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened” (Ephesians 1:18). This is a prayer for insight, for revelation, for wisdom, for illumination. The central message of God’s Word to believers is not about what we do but about what God does in us. The fruitfulness of the Christian life begins with the implanted Word and the illumination of His Spirit.

Paul reminded us that the gospel arrests us in the midst of our winter deadness and it is the power of Christ that enlivens and enlightens us. God has not left us dead in our trespasses but has given us a new hope in the wealth of our inheritance in Christ. He does not leave us to our own abilities but grants us the greatness of His power and strength.

These are the promises of the gospel. These are also the truths that we are so quick to forget. We do indeed need the eyes of our hearts enlightened. We too often fixate on the “sufferings of this present time” (Romans 8:18) and fail to look outward and upward. But when we fix our eyes on the glory of Christ, we also are able to see the transforming power of that hope in the present.

Because we are numbered among the saints, we no longer live in the barren winterland but walk in new life, a life full of His hope, His strength, His wisdom, His wealth. Therefore, like Paul, we should never stop giving thanks, should never cease from prayer and praise.

Sigh.

And goodness, isn’t this about the level of all the things we boast about? Things we truly have no control over? We can certainly work hard and make good choices. But our eye color and our physical achievements, our successes and our relationships—aren’t all these things really just gifts from God?

Instead of boasting in what amounts to little more than circumstances from our birth, we are called to boast in the Lord (Galatians 6:14). And “the one who boasts should boast in this: that he understands and knows me—that I am the LORD, showing faithful love, justice, and righteousness on the earth, for I delight in these things. This is the LORD’s declaration” (Jeremiah 9:24).

The Hebrew word for God’s enduring, covenantal love is hesed. In his book Inexpressible, Michael Card defines hesed beautifully as, “When the person from whom I have a right to expect nothing gives me everything.” Our boasting, then, is to be in the undeserved and overwhelming love of Christ, who—while we were His enemies, helpless in our sin—gave His life for us so that we could be children of God (Romans 5:6–11).

Paul’s benediction appeals to this same hesed as he spoke to the Galatian church that had foolishly followed after the false teachings of the Judaizers and wandered from the life of the Spirit. As he had earlier called on them to deal gently with those who are overtaken by sin, so also Paul dealt gently with the Galatians. Why? Because Christ had dealt gently with Paul. And so Paul can boast in one thing only: the hesed of God, seen most clearly in the cross of Christ. He exhorted the Galatians to do the same.

The apostle then blessed the Galatians with a benediction that can only result from the steadfast love of God. Because of God’s undeserved and faithful love, we have fellowship with one another. We have restoration when we are overtaken in sin and reconciliation with those we have offended, including Christ our Lord. Because of His love for us, we are part of the family of God, brothers and sisters, and co-heirs with Christ to the inheritance of God’s eternal kingdom.

Paul went on to bless the Galatians with the grace of Christ, for it is His grace alone which saves, restores, sustains, secures, and transforms us into His own likeness. This He does by the work of His Spirit in our spirits, in our hearts, and in our minds. In Him, we are a new creation (2Corinthians 5:17).

The final note of Paul’s epistle to the Galatians is a resounding praise of Christ, in whom alone we boast. Next time you get ready to toot your own horn over your own achievements, remember that there’s no need to rejoice over ourselves because our Creator already rejoices over us with singing (Zephaniah 3:17). Let His rejoicing over us be enough, and may we instead glory in Christ alone.

Lists are a helpful way to show us all the angles of an idea. One word says a lot, but seven pointing to the same big idea really leave no room for confusion. In this passage, Paul gives us two lists: a list of death and a list of life—the works of the flesh and the fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:19–23). And boy, do I love the look of that “fruit of the spirit” list. I want that list to be the accounting of my days.

But life is busy and complicated, and we often find ourselves shifting back and forth between these two lists. How do we find victory over sin that ultimately only leads to death? Paul very succinctly declared that the only means by which we may find victory over sin is to “walk by the Spirit and [we] will certainly not carry out the desire of the flesh” (v.16). Notice Paul didn’t say we might not succumb to our flesh; he said we will certainly not—what a declaration!

Our flesh wars with the Spirit (James 1:14–15). This is a powerful image! And still, we’re not expected to walk out our faith journey alone; instead, we must learn to yield to the Holy Spirit. In daily life, our heart’s proclivities lead us away from the Word and drown out the voice of the Spirit; it’s easier to listen to our senses, our circumstances, and our vain desires. Our inattention to the Spirit causes us to fall out of step with Him. Paul encourages us in this manner: “If we live by the Spirit, let us also keep in step with the Spirit” (Galatians 5:25). 

Daily, hourly, we are to fix our attention on the Word, hide it in our hearts, and yield our desires to Christ—not by our own strength but by yielding to the Spirit within us. And here’s the good news: God calls us to live in the Spirit that He has already given, “for [we] are saved by grace through faith, and this is not from [ourselves]; it is God’s gift” (Ephesians 2:8). Though the world, the flesh, and the devil continually vie for our attention, God has extended to our very lips “the spring of the water of life” (Revelation 21:6). Drink freely. Drink deeply. Drink continually. This is all God’s work; a life in step with the Spirit grows out of the Spirit of adoption that we have already received by grace.

By this point we had a travel system in place; everyone knew their job, so we all worked together quickly to set up our tent. Once we’d settled in, we realized we were not alone. Just a stone’s throw away, tucked behind the sagebrush, cooking hot dogs over a fire, was Frank. I helped the kids play/bathe in the river and helped them to some supper, while my husband, Caleb, introduced himself. Frank lived in his tent full-time and had a lot of really good ideas for long-term, electricity-free refrigeration. We exchanged kindnesses and small gifts and fell asleep in our respective tents. For us, that night was the bravest, most rugged camping we’d ever logged. But for Frank, it was just a Tuesday.

I love the hope that Paul gives us in this passage from 2 Corinthians, because no matter how comfortable or uncomfortable we are in our earthly tents, they will all be packed up and folded away someday. Because of Jesus, this is not our home. The Father “made the one who did not know sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21).

Paul acknowledged that we are groaning in our earthly bodies, some of us living with pain that won’t go away until Jesus comes. Some of us carry a weight of sadness that makes us long to go home. No matter what kind of tent we are living in, it will be destroyed.

The thought of my own death fills me with concern for my children. But setting that hefty thought aside and clinging to the truth Paul was teaching in this passage, I see that our earthly death means the ending of a short, uncomfortable camping trip and the joy and relief of finally going home—where things are clean and warm and beautiful and there’s good food and good company. But we have never seen it. So we hold on to our tents, even though they are fraying and growing holes and starting to let the rain in. These tents are awesome, don’t get me wrong. But they are not the final stop. In the meantime, Paul says, we sit in our tents, and we groan.

But Paul exhorts us, “So we are always confident and know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord” (v.:6). While we are still here on earth in these awesome and leaky bodies, biding our time, we have the mighty hope of our future eternal home with Christ. During these camping days, we aim to be pleasing to Him and long for the day when He will finally bring us home.