Matt Chandler - The Cosmic Scope of the Gospel

Let me just dive in. We’re going to the most Christmasy text of all: Ezekiel chapter 11. I know many of you don’t even need to turn there because you’ve already memorized it, but we’re going to be in Ezekiel 11. I’m even going to give you a moment to find it. If you don’t have a Bible with you, there’s a hardback black one somewhere around you; pull that out, and there’s your page number, $6.99. I’m eager to dive into this passage.

Now, last week we talked about the promises of God and the longing created by those promises. That was true for men and women in the Old Testament, and it’s true for us today. We discussed inconsolable longings and the fact that they are with us as long as we are in this human body. We did a little anthropology, a little sociology, and a whole lot of theology last week. One of the things I want to try to do—though I don’t know how well I am going to be able to do it—is to make us aware that the promises of God are cosmic in their reach.

I think it’s a bit more difficult to convey this in 2019 because almost all of us have been saved through individual salvation into an individual personal relationship with Jesus Christ. This ultimately leads to us individually being with Jesus forever. Yes, the tribes, tongues, and nations will be there, but it seems to be just me and Jesus, and that’s a pretty new take on what it means to belong to the kingdom of God, right? This is a byproduct of some Western history that I don’t have time to delve into today, and it’s exacerbated by what I would call unfair theology.

I don’t have time to unpack it, so I’m letting you know that what I’m about to say is not fair. It’s largely based on some pretty bad eschatology that thinks everything ends with Jesus and an X-wing fighter dropping torpedoes into the earth and blowing it up—not before he takes all of us who actually love him out of here. When you combine individual salvation, personal relationships with Jesus, and a solitary heaven with him—sure, there are other people there, but it’s just me and Jesus—it implies there’s no future for where we are. God is just going to blow the whole thing up, and we’ll end up in this disembodied heaven with streets of gold and a crystal sea. I’ll play the harp, and everything I love will be there.

So, you know, our sweet Labradoodle, Bobo, who went to be with the Lord this year, will just see me, run right up, and jump into my arms, and I’ll say, «Oh my gosh, good boy!» That frames and shapes how we see the promises of God and what to do with our longing. The Bible’s perspective on what God is up to and the promises concerning both your life and mine—and the universe—is cosmic, and I want to demonstrate that with two sets of promises that reveal more of the cosmic plan God is up to.

What you see most consistently in the Bible is not Jesus as the Luke Skywalker figure who will destroy this wicked earth, but rather that with the coming of the Messiah, particularly his second coming, all things will be made new. It’s not that they will be destroyed; it’s that they will be made new. Will there be a refining fire? Absolutely! That’s what you’re reading about in 1 Peter. But it’s not that the heavens and earth will simply vanish; it’s that they’re remade and reformed.

Would it not be a victory for Satan if God were to say, «You know what? You won this one. Blow up the earth; I’ll just take them all to heaven»? That’s not what’s happening here. The cosmic victory of God in Jesus declares that no matter how broken it is, he will fix it! Amen! I’m preaching here, and I feel alone! No matter how broken it is, he will fix it!

Okay, y’all are about to get angry, Matt! Let me give you some passages here: You stay there in Ezekiel. I’m not even going to put them on the screen. If you like, just write them down and look them up later. Again, I’m on a clock. Isaiah 35:1 tells us that when all things have been made new, the desert shall blossom as the rose. Isaiah is saying, «Hey, when God’s cosmic work is done, when there’s a new heaven and a new earth, all the desolate places will end up being fruitful and beautiful.»

He follows this idea—the desert will blossom with roses—by saying that the mountaintops will produce sweet wine. All the Baptists shuttered, right? So you’ve got these promises: this desolate place is going to be filled with roses. I don’t know if you’ve ever been in a place filled with roses and caught a whiff of their fragrance. If you’re an essential oil person, you know how much rose oil costs—like $6,000 or something, right? It heals!