I don’t have FOMO. I am not usually afraid of missing out on something everyone else is enjoying. The closest I get is when we decide to explore more remote places in the NM or CO mountains. We’ll drive by (or stay in!) some gorgeous cabin, miles away from civilization, with prospects of cold, snowy winters, mild summers, and plenty of outdoor activities. Cozy fires, lounging in hammocks, hot tea and coffee. Wouldn’t it be great to live here, to enjoy all this year round?
And then I remember the church. Our church. Not the building, of course, but the people. We love our people! These are the people we have covenanted together with, to live life together, to encourage each other and hold each other accountable, to help each other grow in the knowledge of God, to become more like Jesus. Could we give up all that to live in a more remote place? No! No Christian should, as the writer of Hebrews makes very clear in chapter 10. And we wouldn’t want to.
“Maybe I’ll live in a cabin in heaven, if I still care”, I often say to my wife, and she agrees. “If you still care.” That’s comforting! Heaven will be amazing: perfect fellowship with God forever. Nothing I could experience here on earth now will compare to just a moment spent in heaven. That’s why I don’t fear missing out, because I either get to experience it in heaven, or I won’t care because all the pleasures and satisfaction of heaven make the thing seem trite and silly. Win-win.
There’s only one thing. Do I have to live in Jerusalem? Throughout the Old Testament, Jerusalem is where God’s people are and want to be. Read the Psalms, especially the latter ones, and this becomes clear. Exile–removal from Jerusalem–was a devastating judgement. Why? Because Jersualem is where God was! That’s where he chose to dwell with His people.
In the church age, with Jesus and the pouring out of the Holy Spirit, we Christians are now God’s temple, His dwelling place. And what happens after this, when Jesus returns, is described in Revelation 21, with the New Jerusalem as a cubic city of 12,000 stadia, or about 1400 miles, on each side. That’s a huge city! And tall! The thought of living there with everyone else (as opposed to somewhere in the mountains), is a bit of a turn off for me. Yes, I’ll be perfect like everyone else, and I do love God’s people, but really? That doesn’t sound fun.
But I recently noticed something about Revelation 21. The New Jerusalem comes down from heaven, adorned as a bride for her husband. And then God says “behold!”, His dwelling place is with His people! And after this, the angel shows John the Bride, the wife of the Lamb, before describing this city. This is Church language! Could the description of the New Jerusalem be symbolic, like much of Revelation, instead of a literal city that extends into the exosphere? I think so. The beauty of the city reflects the beauty and perfection of God’s people, Jesus’ Bride. For one, “bride” is church language throughout the New Testament. And all the measurements include the number 12, a number of completion and perfection (or some mathematical variation of it it, like 144, which is 12 squared).
How sure am I of this interpretation? Eh, I don’t know. But whether we will all live in the New Jerusalem, up where satellites used to roam, or whether there will be cabins in mountains slightly more remote, I’m pretty sure I won’t really care, because I will be with Jesus.
Photo by Robert Bye on Unsplash