The Big Story—Longing for Home
One of the more helpful ways that theologians have historically distilled down and captured the narrative of Scripture is through identifying its major plot movements: Creation, Fall, Redemption, New Creation. These four movements help us wrap our head around the big story and unity—the metanarrative—of the entire Bible. Looking at the story of the Bible this way allows us to appreciate it in all its multifaceted beauty with different themes shining forth like a diamond held up to the light. Or, imagine how using a wide angle lens of a camera to capture a landscape affords you the opportunity to see different details and the interplay of those details that you would have otherwise missed. Well, one of the refractions or details we can see when viewing the multifaceted story of redemption from this wide angle lens is the theme of home. That is, the story of redemption is the story of God getting us back home with him, in the New Creation. Think of it this way, if the story of the Bible were a map, it would have a dot that says, “You are here” and then as we traced the gospel route we would see that it leads to our homeward destination, “The New Heavens and New Earth.” That’s the story. The Bible is the story of God getting us home.
Christians have historically seen, appreciated, and trumpeted this. Think of John Bunyan’s evergreen work The Pilgrim’s Progress. What’s the story? Christian’s epic journey from the City of Destruction to the Celestial City—his true home. The story of the Bible tells us of our home the Celestial City, and it tells us how God gets us there. Or, think of C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia. He points to this homeward journey to the new creation in The Last Battle in a most enchanting way. Consider this memorable excerpt,
It is as hard to explain how this sunlit land was different from the old Narnia as it would be to tell you how the fruits of that country taste. Perhaps you will get some idea of it if you think like this. You may have been in a room in which there was a window that looked out on a lovely bay of the sea or a green valley that wound away among mountains. And in the wall of that room opposite to the window there may have been a looking-glass. And as you turned away from the window you suddenly caught sight of that sea or that valley, all over again, in the looking-glass. And the sea in the mirror, or the valley in the mirror, were in one sense just the same as the real ones: yet at the same time they were somehow different—deeper, more wonderful, more like places in a story: in a story you have never heard but very much want to know. The difference between the old Narnia and the new Narnia was like that. The new one was a deeper country: every rock and flower and blade of grass looked as if it meant more. I can’t describe it any better than that: if you ever get there you will know what I mean. It was the Unicorn who summed up what everyone was feeling. He stamped his right forehoof on the ground and neighed, and then cried: “I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this. Bree-hee-hee! Come further up, come further in!” He shook his mane and sprang forward into a great gallop—a Unicorn’s gallop, which, in our world, would have carried him out of sight in a few moments. But now a most strange thing happened. Everyone else began to run, and they found, to their astonishment, that they could keep up with him: not only the Dogs and the humans but even fat little Puzzle and short-legged Poggin the Dwarf. The air flew in their faces as if they were driving fast in a car without a windscreen. The country flew past as if they were seeing it from the windows of an express train. Faster and faster they raced, but no one got hot or tired or out of breath.[1]
Home. The story of the Bible is the story of God getting us back home with him. This captivates and thrills because it speaks to the human experience. Whether a warm home life has been your personal experience or just the elusive dream you’ve wished for but never had, we have all experienced homesickness. This desire to finally make it home and find there a warm welcome—the warm glow of the light left on for you, warm bread on the table to nourish and comfort you, and the warm embrace of your family who loves you—God weaved it into his story and thus into the heart of humanity. In order to be properly enchanted by the richness and depth of this story and what awaits us in the new creation, we can’t hurry past the bits and pieces that make up this big story. What is this home for which we long like? Well, hopefully I can unpack that a bit for us through a series of articles. But for now, let’s look ahead at how Scripture describes the new creation so that we can get just a wee taste of our future home.
Considering the Bits and Pieces of the Big Story: A Home Where Righteousness Dwells
The longer we live on this old earth, the more we become aware of the unrighteousness that grows like a pervasive weed in our gardens or black mold behind the walls or our house. The Christian, whose life and heart has been united to Jesus’ through the miracle of the gospel, hungers and thirsts for righteousness (Matthew 5:6) like he longs for a homemade meal. The Christian longs for a home of righteousness. We get a foretaste of that meal and that home in the gospel and the church. We also make it our holy ambition to be doers of righteousness—to cultivate it, to build a house of righteousness, to feast on righteousness in the gospel, and to share that gospel with each other and the world as the church. And yet as we pull and slash back the weeds of unrighteousness in the garden of the world, as we spray and scrub the mold of unrighteousness from the walls of this old earth, it just seems to keep coming back again and again and again. When the unrighteousness of the world seems to prevail, we are acutely reminded that this world is not our final home (Hebrews 13:14). Then we take courage and comfort from the promise of the gospel: Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied (Matthew 5:6). Who feeds us this home cooked meal of righteousness? Our King, Jesus—In his days Judah will be saved, and Israel will dwell securely. And this is the name by which he will be called: ‘The Lord is our righteousness (Jeremiah 23:6). Where does he live? The Lord our righteousness dwells in our future home—But according to his promise we are waiting for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells (2 Peter 3:13).
Christian, the story of the Bible is the story of God bringing you home. It is a home where your King, the Righteous One (Acts 3:14; Revelation 21:3) dwells. And there, finally home, you will receive a warm welcome—you will find the warm light left on for you, you will find a warm meal set out for you, and you will feel the warm embrace of your royal host, who will sit you down at table and satisfy you with a feast of righteousness bought by his blood (Luke 12:37). And then we will say, “I’ve come home at last.”
[1] C.S. Lewis, The Last Battle, (New York: Harper, 1998), 195–97.
