New Heaven New Earth
January 26, 2025
In a world of constant change and fleeting moments, it's easy to feel out of place. We long for permanence, for a place to call home that doesn't shift beneath our feet. As we drive through old neighborhoods or revisit childhood haunts, we're often struck by how much has changed. That favorite restaurant is now an office building, the house we grew up in seems impossibly small, and the faces we once knew have aged or disappeared.
This sense of transience can leave us feeling adrift, searching for an anchor in a sea of change. But what if our longing for permanence is pointing us towards something greater? What if this world, as beautiful and complex as it is, isn't meant to be our final destination?
The story of humanity begins in a garden - Eden. A place of perfection where God, humans, and creation existed in perfect harmony. But this paradise was short-lived. Sin entered the world, shattering the peace and driving Adam and Eve from the garden. With a flaming sword, cherubim guarded the way to the Tree of Life, cutting off humanity's access to eternity.
Yet even in this moment of loss, a promise was made. A prophecy of renewal, of a virgin birth that would lead to the redemption of all creation. This promise threads its way through scripture, from God's covenant with Abraham to the visions of the prophets.
Isaiah speaks of a time when God will "create new heavens and a new earth, and the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind" (Isaiah 65:17). Ezekiel describes a river flowing from the temple, bringing life wherever it goes - an echo of Eden and a foreshadowing of what's to come.
When Jesus arrived, he didn't just talk about this renewal - he embodied it. His miracles gave us glimpses of a world without sickness, death, or sorrow. Every healing was a snapshot of eternity, every act of forgiveness a taste of perfect reconciliation.
But we're not there yet. We live in the tension between the "now" and the "not yet." As Paul writes in Romans 8, all of creation is groaning, longing for the day of redemption. Every earthquake, every ache in our bodies, every tear we shed is a reminder that this world is not as it should be.
So how do we live in this in-between time? How do we keep our eyes fixed on our true home while still engaging with the world around us?
First, we must remember our true citizenship. As followers of Christ, we are "citizens of heaven" (Philippians 3:20). This doesn't mean we disengage from the world around us. On the contrary, it calls us to be ambassadors of a different kingdom, bringing light to dark places, justice to broken systems, and hope to despairing hearts.
We're called to live from "glory to glory" (2 Corinthians 3:18), not defeat to defeat. Each day is an opportunity to let a little more of heaven shine through us, to give the world around us a glimpse of what's to come.
This sense of transience can leave us feeling adrift, searching for an anchor in a sea of change. But what if our longing for permanence is pointing us towards something greater? What if this world, as beautiful and complex as it is, isn't meant to be our final destination?
The story of humanity begins in a garden - Eden. A place of perfection where God, humans, and creation existed in perfect harmony. But this paradise was short-lived. Sin entered the world, shattering the peace and driving Adam and Eve from the garden. With a flaming sword, cherubim guarded the way to the Tree of Life, cutting off humanity's access to eternity.
Yet even in this moment of loss, a promise was made. A prophecy of renewal, of a virgin birth that would lead to the redemption of all creation. This promise threads its way through scripture, from God's covenant with Abraham to the visions of the prophets.
Isaiah speaks of a time when God will "create new heavens and a new earth, and the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind" (Isaiah 65:17). Ezekiel describes a river flowing from the temple, bringing life wherever it goes - an echo of Eden and a foreshadowing of what's to come.
When Jesus arrived, he didn't just talk about this renewal - he embodied it. His miracles gave us glimpses of a world without sickness, death, or sorrow. Every healing was a snapshot of eternity, every act of forgiveness a taste of perfect reconciliation.
But we're not there yet. We live in the tension between the "now" and the "not yet." As Paul writes in Romans 8, all of creation is groaning, longing for the day of redemption. Every earthquake, every ache in our bodies, every tear we shed is a reminder that this world is not as it should be.
So how do we live in this in-between time? How do we keep our eyes fixed on our true home while still engaging with the world around us?
First, we must remember our true citizenship. As followers of Christ, we are "citizens of heaven" (Philippians 3:20). This doesn't mean we disengage from the world around us. On the contrary, it calls us to be ambassadors of a different kingdom, bringing light to dark places, justice to broken systems, and hope to despairing hearts.
We're called to live from "glory to glory" (2 Corinthians 3:18), not defeat to defeat. Each day is an opportunity to let a little more of heaven shine through us, to give the world around us a glimpse of what's to come.
When we pray "Your kingdom come, Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven" (Matthew 6:10), we're not just wishing for a far-off future. We're inviting God's reality to break into our present, transforming us and the world around us.
As we near the end of all things, John's vision in Revelation gives us a breathtaking picture of our true home:
"Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.'" (Revelation 21:1-4)
This isn't just poetic imagery. It's a promise of a real place where all that was lost in Eden is restored and made even more glorious. The Tree of Life, once guarded by cherubim, now stands freely in the center of the city, "yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations" (Revelation 22:2).
In this new creation, there is no more curse, no more night, no need for sun or lamp because "the Lord God will be their light" (Revelation 22:5). It's a place of perfect communion with God and with each other, where every tear is wiped away and every wrong is made right.
This vision of our true home should change how we live now. It reminds us that our hope isn't in our jobs, our bank accounts, or even our health. Our hope is in a God who is making all things new, who has prepared a place for us beyond our wildest dreams.
When we truly grasp this, it changes everything. Suddenly, the trials of this life don't seem so overwhelming. The joys become even sweeter, knowing they're just a foretaste of what's to come. We can live with a holy restlessness, never fully at home in this world because we know there's something far greater waiting for us.
So let's lift our eyes from the temporary to the eternal. Let's live as citizens of heaven, bringing glimpses of our true home into the world around us. And let's eagerly await the day when we'll walk up those streets of gold, see the face of our Savior, and finally be home.
As we navigate the challenges and changes of this life, may we hold fast to the promise of a new heaven and a new earth. May we live each day with the joy and purpose that comes from knowing our true citizenship. And may we be people who bring a little bit of heaven to earth, pointing others to the hope we have in Christ.
This world is not our home, but we're not just passing through. We're on a mission, ambassadors of a coming kingdom, eagerly awaiting the day when all things will be made new.
As we near the end of all things, John's vision in Revelation gives us a breathtaking picture of our true home:
"Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.'" (Revelation 21:1-4)
This isn't just poetic imagery. It's a promise of a real place where all that was lost in Eden is restored and made even more glorious. The Tree of Life, once guarded by cherubim, now stands freely in the center of the city, "yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations" (Revelation 22:2).
In this new creation, there is no more curse, no more night, no need for sun or lamp because "the Lord God will be their light" (Revelation 22:5). It's a place of perfect communion with God and with each other, where every tear is wiped away and every wrong is made right.
This vision of our true home should change how we live now. It reminds us that our hope isn't in our jobs, our bank accounts, or even our health. Our hope is in a God who is making all things new, who has prepared a place for us beyond our wildest dreams.
When we truly grasp this, it changes everything. Suddenly, the trials of this life don't seem so overwhelming. The joys become even sweeter, knowing they're just a foretaste of what's to come. We can live with a holy restlessness, never fully at home in this world because we know there's something far greater waiting for us.
So let's lift our eyes from the temporary to the eternal. Let's live as citizens of heaven, bringing glimpses of our true home into the world around us. And let's eagerly await the day when we'll walk up those streets of gold, see the face of our Savior, and finally be home.
As we navigate the challenges and changes of this life, may we hold fast to the promise of a new heaven and a new earth. May we live each day with the joy and purpose that comes from knowing our true citizenship. And may we be people who bring a little bit of heaven to earth, pointing others to the hope we have in Christ.
This world is not our home, but we're not just passing through. We're on a mission, ambassadors of a coming kingdom, eagerly awaiting the day when all things will be made new.