1066. A Tent and a Heavenly Home

Welcome to The Daily Platform from Bob Jones University in Greenville, South Carolina. Today on The Daily Platform, we're beginning a new study series from Seminary Chapel called Ministry According to 2 Corinthians.

Today's speaker is Seminary Professor Dr. Sam Saldivar. The title of his message is A Tent and a Heavenly Home from 2 Corinthians 5, 1-5. For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling.

If indeed by putting it on we may be not found naked. For while we are in this tent, we groan being burdened, not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee. In the past six months, I've stared into the lifeless face of three loved ones. On June 27th, my father-in-law had gone into hospice care. He had suffered with dementia for many years, and that evening, the hospice nurse came banging on the door the next morning, informing us that my father-in-law had passed away at 87. All summer long, I had been working on trying to redo the floors in my basement, and I had planned for the last week of the summer for us to take place in Florida, celebrating life with my parents.

And I was coming to the conclusion of that project. I was to preach at my church the two Sundays before. I had those messages ready, and the Friday before we left to go down to Florida, my father was taken into the emergency room. First of all, a little background with my dad. He was diagnosed with colon cancer many years ago, and he overcame that.

He rang the bell. It's cancer-free. And then a couple years later, he kept coughing, and they found a lump in his lung. And so he had, we were told he had stage four metastatic lung cancer. Chance of survival, 2%, beyond a few months.

It just looked pretty grim. The Lord brought him out of that. He was completely, they were able to shrink his tumor. He went through all the chemo again, relatively mild side effects for both cancers that he survived. And he had recently, right after the pandemic hit, gotten shingles.

And they were both on the outside and the inside. My dad was a very social man, very outgoing and happy, the life of the party. And just being confined to his house was a bit discouraging.

The last time I talked to him, he just kind of sounded sad and was very quiet and somber. When I would converse with my dad, a lot of times he'd tell me, you know, we'd be talking, and I'd just be listening. And then he'd be like, hello, you're still there? This time the roles were reversed.

I'm like, dad, are you still there? But I think it was, everything was weighing on him, not being able to be out. Apparently he, so he had slipped and fallen in the garage. And he was having trouble even sitting comfortably. So he thought he did something to his back. He had gone a couple weeks earlier to get it checked out, and they just told him to ice it and everything would be okay.

He wasn't able to sleep very well. So I don't know if that's what caused what happened, but his body became septic, something bleeding within. And then very quickly he was in critical condition. And so they rushed him to the hospital and they were able to, the doctor said it was a miracle that he survived that first night. So he prayed for my dad and he started improving.

We were able to do a video call with him. He was intubated. His numbers were improving. The infection was going down.

And we were hopeful. They took the tubes out for 12 hours one day and he breathed on his own. And another day he breathed on his own for seven hours. They had done a wound vac, a couple wound vacs. Those were looking nice, they were healing well.

Accelerating the incisions that they had made in him for the removal of the infected skin and flesh that he had. And they were, we thought, were about to release him from ICU and start physical therapy. So we were very hopeful. We were praying. We were rejoicing. I think my wife even said, and when she said it I was, felt a little bit awkward. But she was very hopeful.

She said, I can't wait. I'm envisioning Thanksgiving and being able to praise God for bringing your dad through this. But two weeks later, on Sunday, we got a call in the morning. Come see dad because, you know, they're letting everybody see him now. His numbers cry suddenly and he doesn't have much time left.

And obviously I'm in South Carolina and I'm thinking, this is not good. Lord, please let me see him. I'd like to at least see him before he departs, speak to him. And an hour and a half later, dad's gone. When you don't expect something, it's, I think it hurts a little bit more when it's just so sudden. So I was blown away. I was like, whoa, like where did that come from?

We were looking good and now he's gone. And so when I got to my mom's house that evening, it was an unreal scene. I'm one of 11 and my parents have 35 grandchildren. So it is always a party when we get together. So I show up and it's just really, really sad. When you read in the Bible, weeping and wailing, that's what it was.

When I went to my mother's bedroom, I had a moment of clarity. Obviously it just tears you up, but if you can imagine 20 people sobbing and you're in the middle of that, there are no words that you can give, right? It's just almost silly to try to say anything, to solve anything. There is no solution. So in my moment of clarity, basically what the Lord really impressed on me was, there is no hope for us in this room. There's no hope for us in Bradenton, Florida, in the whole state, in the US. The US of A can do nothing to bring my dad back. There's no hope for us in this world.

The only hope we have is in the resurrected Christ and that's where it should be. And my dad is okay. He is alive. He's doing much better than he was these past two weeks.

He's never been in better health or condition. My mother-in-law continued her decline. My mother-in-law was also a very social person, embarrassingly social. And when they shut everything down because of COVID, her decline rapidly accelerated. We would come in to visit her at the facility and they let you talk to them from the door, from the window. She could not see or hear us.

We're speaking into a phone and she's just confused, doesn't know what's going on. She didn't have words to speak. She had not only dementia, but she had Alzheimer's, which one of the first things that takes away from you is your speech.

The pain and irony of being really social and loving talking to, I can't think of the word, or saying something, that's not what I meant. And so she passed away on December 13th. And surprisingly, a couple of weeks after my dad died, I had seen my sister's former husband was at the funeral and he just looked frail. He looked strange. And a couple of weeks after my dad died, he died.

He was 43. Whenever you've lost someone that you really care about, every successive death of your family and loved ones reminds you of the initial loss that you've experienced. We live in a world of suffering and death. It is estimated that about 423,000 people have died from COVID in the United States up to this point, 2.15 million worldwide. I've never seen so many feeds regarding death and sickness on social media before.

I have many friends who have lost parents, who have lost siblings very recently. And so as believers, how do we engage effectively for Christ's sake in such a context? 2 Corinthians 5, Paul gives us imagery.

One is of a tent and the other one is of a building, not just a house, but a building. And what he's communicating to us is that by God's providential design, this body in its sinful and fallen condition was never meant to last forever. As Moses said, our days are 70 years and if by reason of strength they're 80, there's going to be some associated pain and suffering that accompanies those extra bonus years that we get. My dad had that perspective. You know, after he turned 70, he's like, well, it's all bonus life from here on out, right?

Nothing is guaranteed, so we're in the bonus stage. Think about a tent. A tent is, there could be multiple things that Paul has in view here. Of course, he was a tent maker and it has this idea of transitoryness where we're traveling, we don't have a settled city that we call home. But as far as the tent itself, it's quickly set up and torn down. It's pretty thin. It's uncomfortable to sleep in.

These bodies don't hold up. A tent can very easily be blown away. This tent is called earthly.

It is meant for this temporary sin-cursed world. He says if this tent should be destroyed or torn down, that's actually not an if. I mean, it is an if, but it's not like a, I don't know if it's going to happen. It's a when, right? When your tent is destroyed. This tent is destined for dust. From the moment you were born, there's a sense in which your body starts dying.

A lot of people here are wearing glasses. Skin goes. Flexibility goes. Strength goes. Skin moisture and flexibility goes.

Hair, quantity, and color goes. Bone density, we are decaying. God warned Adam and Eve that if they ate of the forbidden tree, that they would surely die. On the day you eat, you will die.

Well, a couple things happened there. Obviously, for sure, but Genesis 5-5, nine hundred and thirty years or so later, we are told Adam died physically. Ironically, I think death is a type of mercy for mankind, in the sense that when God cursed mankind and when they were in their sinful state, God said, I don't want them to eat of the tree of life in this condition.

Otherwise, they'll live forever, I would say, like this. Romans 5-12, just as sin entered the world through one man and death through sin, and in this way, death came to all people because all sinned. Ecclesiastes has been called a very pessimistic book because of its theme on death. Death dominates the planet ruthlessly, and the preacher calls that Havel.

And I would argue, what he means is that this life is not meant to last. It doesn't matter if you're a man or an animal, wise or foolish, righteous or wicked, rich or poor, you are going to die. There's nothing you can do to prevent death.

Your parents, love them deeply, speak to them often. Your parents are going to die. Your spouse, if you're married, is going to die. You are going to die, I am going to die.

There's nothing we can do to prevent death. This is the tent we live in. When this tent is destroyed, we groan in this tent. The groaning started in Genesis 3-16 with the curse on the woman.

In pain, you will have children. And women have been groaning through the whole process of pregnancy and delivery ever since. God also says to the ground that it would be, well, he says to Adam, cursed is the ground for your sake, so the ground, the whole creation, started groaning at that point.

It yields thorns and thistles. And God cursed man. He said, as you work the ground and try to get food from it, you will be groaning. Romans 8 reminds us that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves groan inwardly as we wait. The older you get, the more literal this will become. You will wake up in the morning and groan.

Right? It's just inevitable. You'll feel the pain. The text also says that we, as we groan, are burdened. We are weighed down.

This word is used of the heavy eyes of the disciples when they couldn't stay awake to pray with Jesus in the garden. They were tired. Are you tired today? Are you burdened, weighed down? The longer you live on this planet, in a sense, the more you will feel its gravity. You will be more and more burdened. Paul said he was so burdened that it seemed like he was beyond the ability to endure, and he despaired of life itself.

And you will have moments in your life that feel that way, that it seems like you can't go on living. But this text is also full of hope because when this tent that we live in is dismantled, we have a building from God. Now he doesn't use the normal word for a house here, oikas.

He's going to use oikadame, which is used normally, if you look at Old and New Testament, they're used in the Septuagint and they're used in the New Testament. This is often used to describe a structure like the temple that Solomon would build or the buildings that Herod constructed in Matthew 24. One is the disciples are looking at all the impressive buildings.

That's this word. In other words, what's coming is much, much greater than in great contrast to a tent. This structure provides shelter, insulation, warmth. Actually, in times of great storms, people flood to these kinds of buildings for protection. It is built to last.

It is built to house multiple families. This heavenly home is the opposite of earthly. It is 1 Corinthians 15, verse 40, there are heavenly bodies and earthly bodies. The glory of the heavenly is one kind, the glory of the earthly is another.

Like the glory of the sun and the glory of the moon. So it is with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown is perishable. It's sown in dishonor, but it's raised in glory. It's sown in weakness.

It's raised in power. It's sown a natural body, but it's raised a spiritual body. If there's a natural body, there's also a spiritual body. Thus it is written, the first Adam became a living being, the last Adam became a life-giving spirit.

But it's not the spiritual that is first, but the natural and then the spiritual. The first man was from the earth, a man of dust. The second man is from heaven. As was the man of dust, so also are those who are of the dust. And as is the man of heaven, so also are those are we who are of heaven.

Just as we have borne the image of the man of dust, we shall also bear the image of the man of heaven. We have a heavenly building, even though this man is falling apart. This building is from God. God is a direct source. It's not man-made.

It's not made of human hands. This building is indestructible. It's eternal. There will be no more slow death in our bodies.

It's imperceptible until one day you look in the mirror and you look old. No more aging, no more pain, no more decay. What should our response be as we live in this paradox? What are we to do as we go through life with the grim realities all around us? But the incredible promise before us? Well, we should long.

We should hope. We want our heavenly home. We want to be clothed with immortality.

We want the mortal to be gulped down and destroyed by life. In 2 Corinthians 4, we're told that our mindset must be fixed, focused on these glorious eternal realities, even as what we see before us screams the opposite. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day by day, for this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison. So we look not to the things that are seen, but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. So Paul would say, for to me to live is Christ and to die is gain.

But Paul was not going to kill himself. He said, even though I have desire to depart and to be with Christ, which is far better, to stay here and minister to you is more necessary. It's needful for me to stay. So we long for that glorious time, but we should live.

We hope, but we should hustle. While our focus must be on things above, not on things of the earth, we must not be idle. We must not neglect our daily responsibilities.

We must not ignore the present realities all around us and the suffering by others on every side. Part of the reason that God lets us go through suffering is so that we can minister comfort and grace and peace to those around us. Paul rejoiced in healing and the ongoing ministry of Epaphroditus. He said, I thought it necessary to send you Epaphroditus, my brother, because you were worried about him because you heard he was ill. And yeah, he was really sick. He almost died. But God had mercy on him. We prayed for his healing and God hurt us, but not on him only, but on me also, lest I should have sorrow upon sorrow. Paul was glad to see the healing of Epaphroditus and he was more eager to send Epaphroditus, this in a sense, man raised from the dead, so that when they saw him, they would rejoice. You're alive, Epaphroditus.

We're so happy. The Lord answers prayer. He tells Timothy in 1 Timothy 5 23, don't drink just water, but use a little wine for the sake of your stomach and your frequent ailments. Take medicine. Jesus perfectly embraced both the suffering of this world and the hope of the next, as he went about healing sick people.

I mean, this was a temporary fix, right? You're healed, but you're still going to die. I think a really helpful passage for anybody going through death is John 11 and Jesus' treatment of the death of Lazarus. As he steps away from Mary and Martha and Lazarus, he's aware that Lazarus is sick and dying, and he still delays and delays. And he comes back and he says, his death is for my glory. He's going to live again. Yeah, Lord, we know he'll live again in the future, but you should have been here. He wouldn't have died. Well, I wanted him to die so that you could see that I am the resurrection and the life. And he brings him back to life, but Lazarus is going to die again. As you long for the glorification for your heavenly home, take care of your temporary tent.

Eat well, exercise vigorously, rest sufficiently, take precautions, use necessary medicines, pray for healing, but don't fear and despair when inevitably all these things fail. God has given us a guarantee. The basis of this mindset is God's plan and promise. God prepared us, fashioned us to this very thing.

This is his perfect plan. He intends to use suffering and death in our lives to accomplish his purpose. His redemptive plan requires suffering before glory. And the most powerful illustration of that is the cross. God, when he created this world and planned everything out, was planning the cross for his own glory. And we glory in the cross and will forever.

This instrument of suffering and death and shame. God has given us the greatest promise, a guarantee, a down payment, a first installment, the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is with you.

He's with you. He comforts you. His presence is there and his word. As you read his word and draw from what the Holy Spirit has given, we can take encouragement.

His presence is with us personally and through his word and assures the completion of salvation. I would like to close with a prayer by Douglas McKelvey. This is a liturgy for embracing both joy and sorrow. This is really powerful and I think helpful as it puts together this concept of suffering yet rejoicing as we go through this life.

Join me please as we pray together. Do not be distant, O Lord, lest I find this burden of loss too heavy and shrink from the necessary experience of my grief. Do not be distant, O Lord, lest I become so mired in yesterday's hurts that I miss entirely the living gifts this day might hold. Let me neither ignore my pain, pretending all is okay when it isn't, nor coddle and magnify my pain so that I might dull my capacity to experience all that remains good in this life. For joy that denies sorrow is neither hard won nor true nor eternal.

It is not real joy at all. And sorrow that refuses to make space for the return of joy and hope in the end becomes nothing more than a temple for the worship of my own woundedness. So give me strength, O God, to feel this grief deeply, never to hide my heart from it. And give me also hope enough to remain open to surprising encounters with joy as one on a woodland path might stumble suddenly into dapplings of golden lights. Amid the pain that lays these days, give me courage, O Lord, courage to live them fully, to love and to allow myself to be loved, to remember, grieve, and honor what was, to live with thanksgiving and what is, and to invest in the hope of what will be. Be at work gilding these long heartbreaks with the advent of new joys, good friendships, true fellowships, unexpected delights.

Remind me again and again of your goodness, your presence, your promises. For this is who we are, a people of the promise, a people shaped in the image of the God whose very being generates all joy in the universe, yet who also weeps and grieves its brokenness. So we, your children, are also at liberty to lament our losses, even as we simultaneously rejoice in the hope of their coming restoration. Let me learn now, O Lord, to do this as naturally as the inhale and exhale of a single breath, to breathe out sorrow, to breathe in joy, to breathe out lament, to breathe in hope, to breathe out pain, to breathe in comfort, to breathe out sorrow, to breathe in joy. In one hand I grasp the burden of my grief, while with the other I reach for the hope of grief's redemption. And here, between the tension of the two, between what was and what will be, in the very is of now, let my heart be surprised by, shaped by, warmed by, remade by, the same joy that forever wells within and radiates from your heart, O God. Amen. You've been listening to a message preached in Seminary Chapel by Dr. Sam Saldivar, which is part of the series Ministry According to Second Corinthians. Join us again tomorrow as we continue this series on The Daily Platform.