Holy in a Strange Land

The same Lord who fills heaven and earth also judges His own house when His people turn aside. Solomon’s temple was consecrated, yet the warning stood: “and this house shall be desolate, and every one that shall pass by it shall be astonished, and shall say, Why has God done these evils to this land and to this house?” (Lactantius, The Divine Institutes). Therefore let no one boast in holy places, old privileges, or outward honor. If a kingdom with a temple could be chastened, so can any soul that receives God’s gifts and then grows careless.

Job stands in another place: mocked, wasting away, longing for a surety before God. Daniel also stands in a strange land, with Jerusalem humbled and the vessels of God carried off. One suffers in the body, the other in exile; both teach steadfastness when earthly security is broken. The righteous man is not proved by peace and abundance, but by keeping himself undefiled when surrounded by scorn, loss, and foreign customs.

Paul then lifts our eyes higher. The One in whom “all fullness should dwell” has reconciled us in the body of His flesh through death, not that we may remain as we were, but that we may be presented holy. As Irenaeus says, “And though ye were formerly alienated, and enemies to His knowledge by evil works, yet now ye have been reconciled in the body of His flesh, through His death, to present yourselves holy and chaste, and without fault in His sight.” Reconciliation is therefore not a cloak for negligence, but the beginning of obedience. In a fallen house, in a sick body, in a foreign court, the command is the same: continue in the faith, keep yourself pure, and do not betray the Lord for ease.