Heavenly Jealousy

Now a word to you who are Gentiles. I should like you to know that I make as much as I can of my ministry as “God’s messenger to the Gentiles” so as to make my kinsfolk jealous and thus save some of them. For if their exclusion from the pale of salvation has meant the reconciliation of the rest of mankind to God, what would their inclusion mean? It would be nothing less than life from the dead! If the flour is consecrated to God so is the whole loaf, and if the roots of a tree are dedicated to God every branch will belong to him also. (Romans 11:13-16)

Two of the things I maybe most admire about Paul are his spiritual eyes for the outsider, and, just as important, this gift he has for envisioning heavenly potential in others. He will not give up on anyone -- that's the first thing -- and, imagining them "in," he just can't stop thinking of what that might mean. How their salvation might be a first glorious domino to fall. How their inclusion might open the door to so many others.

But there really is a nexus point for both of these things: a place where eyes for the lost and vision for heavenly potentiality meet.

It's... you. 

It's me.

We together -- the Body of Christ -- are meant to be the living invitation and the limitless picture of what this whole thing is. 

Do you ever stop to think of what it would mean, how the world around us would react, if, even just for a week, we all lived up to our heavenly privileges? I like the word Paul uses here: "jealous." Because think about people actually seeing this:

Men and women strangely unconcerned for their temporal needs: as if those things are already, forever, accounted for.

People who are totally unafraid.

Men, women and children so lost within a heavenly love that all other loves, likes and relationships are just saturated with the flavor of that love.

People, secure, respectful and self-respecting, with no need for earthly accolades or any sort of spotlight.

A segment of humanity who are already one with God—exhibiting His own personal character—and, thus, are already one with each other: filled with an active, observable affection that seems otherworldly.

If those were the "flour" and the "roots" of our fellowship, don't you think we'd be drawing a whole different sort of attention to Him? Isn't it possible that if you and I abide in Jesus -- if we really enjoy what's ours in Him -- that we might fill the world's heart with a heavenly jealousy?

I'd say there's only one way to find out...

This week, let's live it!