Truths from the Mouths of Atheists

If heaven’s for clean people, it’s vacant.

“If heaven’s for clean people, it’s vacant.” This simple song lyric shows up in a song by Matthew Good called “Load Me Up.” Matthew Good, in my opinion, makes some wonderful music. He is also, from my observation, an unfortunately troubled man in need of salvation. His songwriting is characterized by cynicism and despair. And yet is it not fascinating when partial truths come from the mouths of atheists? Matthew Good likely does not believe in the actuality of heaven, but he understands the first half of the gospel: that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God (Rom. 3:23). He may not even know it as biblical, but based on his observation of the world in which he lives he has come to this conclusion of truth: if heaven is for clean people (which it is), it’s vacant (but it isn’t).

Without the gospel, this lyric would be true and no more would need to be said of the matter. But something is missing. There is a factor which has not yet been taken into account. There is a way for unclean people to become clean, and His name is Jesus Christ. “But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus...” (Ephesians 2:4-6) But God. Heaven has to be for clean people since it is the dwelling place of perfectly holy God. So God did what was necessary (sending Christ to take our punishment) in order to make us clean so that heaven might not be vacant. Without the bad news of our sinfulness, the good news of the cross is obsolete. But in light of our sinfulness, the cross is central to everything else in eternity.

The world accepts half of the gospel. They know the problem but not the remedy. Both halves are important, but only as they relate to each other. Understanding the sinfulness of man without the hope of eternity leads to despair, and so it is no wonder that we find such words, half-truths, coming from men like Matthew Good. Revelations like this instill in me a burden for the unsaved and provide a strategy for introducing the light of salvation into the lives of the lost.

Father, thank You that heaven is not vacant. Thank You for sending Your Son to bear the full weight of Your wrath, which I deserved, to secure for me an eternity with You. Thank You for making me clean. Give me boldness and passion to declare the full truth, this good news, to the lost in my life, for the glory of Your name.

Change, According to An Urban Sunrise

5:30am. I thought it only existed as a time at which I could still be awake. Apparently, some people actually wake up at this time. Well, now I’m at a new school, and I’ve joined the ranks of some people. That’s right; I wake up at 5:30 in order to leave my house by 6:30. To some of you that’s not particularly shocking, or perhaps that might even be late for you, but for me it’s a new life. I mean, I don’t see myself as especially lazy, but I am certainly accustomed to driving ten minutes to school instead of an hour.

It’s a beautiful thing to be in the city just before sunrise. There’s a kind of anticipation, as though the tops of the skyscrapers, and the roofs of the parking decks, and the very hairs on top of your head, are all reaching just a little bit to catch, if they might, that first ray of light just a moment sooner. They reach and they reach, and the energy of it is overwhelming. Something big must surely be nigh. And then it happens all at once. The grey morning light takes hold of the city and there is a bustle of life that surely wasn’t there just a second before. Some nameless thrill rises in your chest for a fleeting moment, and you think you must be the only one that feels it. And then you’re assimilated into it all, and you’re just the same as everyone else walking hurriedly toward your respective destination.

In this new world of mine, this experience which I will be living through every morning of the week for the next fifteen weeks, I have found God to be particularly present. Of course it has nothing to do with the actual environment, but as I transition each morning from taking joy in the small things in life to taking joy in the eternal things, God is there. He’s leading me through His Word as I listen to the relative quiet turn into a conglomerate din. He’s meeting me in prayer as students and businessmen and people of all sorts and trades begin to flow in and through the winding streets of the city.

I’ve only been at this school for two days, but I am excited. Change is exciting, even when it comes in drastic forms and complete alterations of environment, but change is even more exciting when it’s occurring in my heart and my life, and I am filled with faith that this semester is going to be about just that. I have no regrets so far about transferring schools. My doubts have been unfounded, and I do indeed believe that God has brought me here for specific reasons, not the least of which is surely this work He has begun in my heart over the past few days.

I appreciate your prayers. I expect that I will be writing a bit more these days as I receive grace to seek after God and He is faithful to instruct and to reveal more of Himself to me. Pray above all else that I would be bold in sharing the Truth of the Gospel with those I meet. There is no greater cause or purpose than this, and there is no doubt in my mind that to share the news of Jesus Christ is part of the reason God has placed me at Georgia State, as it is with anywhere else I go throughout my day.