There are times in the Christian life when we find ourselves wanting to turn back. Retreating to what seems like the safety of the known, a refuge from the icy winds of an unending journey. Or if not turning back then at least turning aside for a while. Finding some kind of no-man's-land where the demands of discipleship no longer take their toll. But those options - turning back or turning aside - often amount to the same thing.
Coming to faith in Jesus is never intended to be, nor does it at the time feel like, a casual and possibly temporary choice. But it does us no good to pretend that such temptations are not real. Others have been here before us and have testified to the same things.
And scripture tells us, if we want an opportunity to return, to turn aside and turn away, it'll be given to us (Heb. 11:15). We'll find that, in fact, there are plenty of them: disappointment and hurt at the hands of other Christians; the cooling down of our heightened emotions; the never-ending battles with 'the world, the flesh and the devil' - all provide the opportunity to go back to our own Egypt.
Such a choice was placed before Ruth. She and her sister-in-law Orpah had accompanied their mother-in-law Naomi on the first part of her journey back to Bethlehem - back to a future whose only certainty was shame and hardship. Naomi makes the case to her daughters-in-law that they ought, now, to go back home. Back to what was known, what was familiar, where husbands might again be theirs. To find some semblance of ease in the acceptance of their own people.
Her case made sense, to Orpah. But not to Ruth. Her sights were set on something else. She had somehow seen, presumably in and through Naomi, that her gods were no gods at all, that the LORD alone was God. And so she expressed herself in the clearest possible way:
"Where you go, I will go, and where you stay I will stay.
Your people will be my people and your God my God.
Where you die I will die and there I will be buried."
For Ruth, Bethlehem was more than a minor town in the region of Judah; it signified "a better country - a heavenly one". Her words to Naomi were the deepest expression that she was now admitting she was "a foreigner and stranger on earth," who had seen and welcomed the promises of God from a distance.
It is the same reality that pulls us forward, too. There are indeed many opportunities to return for those who wish to, but we have been gifted a vision of the heavenly Jerusalem, where the King in all his beauty is seen. We have tasted and seen that the LORD is good. We have become his children - "heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ". We have the Holy Spirit as "a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God's possession - to the praise of his glory."
Egypt is no longer our home, however strong the pull might be. There are times when we learn the hard way that our true home and our fullest life is "now hidden with Christ in God". But as Sara Groves suggests,
If it comes too quick
I may not appreciate it;
Is that the reason behind all this time and sand?
And if it comes too quick
I may not recognise it;
Is that the reason behind all this time and sand?
Here's the truth: those roads have indeed been closed off to us; we're no longer slaves, but children of the King. No going back.
************
I don't want to leave here,
I don't want to stay;
It feels like pinching to me,
Either way.
And the places I long for the most
Are the places where I've been,
They are calling out to me
Like a long lost friend.
It's not about losing faith,
It's not about trust;
It's all about comfortable
When you move so much.
And the place I was wasn't perfect
But I had found a way to live;
And it wasn't milk or honey
But, then, neither is this.
I've been painting pictures of Egypt,
For Ruth, Bethlehem was more than a minor town in the region of Judah; it signified "a better country - a heavenly one". Her words to Naomi were the deepest expression that she was now admitting she was "a foreigner and stranger on earth," who had seen and welcomed the promises of God from a distance.
It is the same reality that pulls us forward, too. There are indeed many opportunities to return for those who wish to, but we have been gifted a vision of the heavenly Jerusalem, where the King in all his beauty is seen. We have tasted and seen that the LORD is good. We have become his children - "heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ". We have the Holy Spirit as "a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God's possession - to the praise of his glory."
Egypt is no longer our home, however strong the pull might be. There are times when we learn the hard way that our true home and our fullest life is "now hidden with Christ in God". But as Sara Groves suggests,
If it comes too quick
I may not appreciate it;
Is that the reason behind all this time and sand?
And if it comes too quick
I may not recognise it;
Is that the reason behind all this time and sand?
Here's the truth: those roads have indeed been closed off to us; we're no longer slaves, but children of the King. No going back.
************
I don't want to leave here,
I don't want to stay;
It feels like pinching to me,
Either way.
And the places I long for the most
Are the places where I've been,
They are calling out to me
Like a long lost friend.
It's not about losing faith,
It's not about trust;
It's all about comfortable
When you move so much.
And the place I was wasn't perfect
But I had found a way to live;
And it wasn't milk or honey
But, then, neither is this.
I've been painting pictures of Egypt,
Leaving out what it lacks;
The future feels so hard
And I want to go back.
But the places that used to fit me
Cannot hold the things I've learned;
Those roads were closed off to me,
While my back was turned.
The past is so tangible
I know it by heart;
Familiar things are never easy
To discard.
And I was dying for some freedom
But now I hesitate to go;
I am caught between the Promise
And the things I know.
I've been painting pictures of Egypt,
If it comes too quick,
The future feels so hard
And I want to go back.
But the places that used to fit me
Cannot hold the things I've learned;
Those roads were closed off to me,
While my back was turned.
The past is so tangible
I know it by heart;
Familiar things are never easy
To discard.
And I was dying for some freedom
But now I hesitate to go;
I am caught between the Promise
And the things I know.
I've been painting pictures of Egypt,
Leaving out what it lacks;
The future feels so hard
And I want to go back.
But the places that used to fit me
Cannot hold the things I've learned;
Those roads were closed off to me,
While my back was turned.
The future feels so hard
And I want to go back.
But the places that used to fit me
Cannot hold the things I've learned;
Those roads were closed off to me,
While my back was turned.
I may not appreciate it;
Is that the reason behind all this time and sand?
And if it comes too quick,
I may not recognise it;
Is that the reason behind all this time and sand?
(Sara Groves, Painting Pictures of Egypt)
Is that the reason behind all this time and sand?
And if it comes too quick,
I may not recognise it;
Is that the reason behind all this time and sand?
(Sara Groves, Painting Pictures of Egypt)
