From my bedroom, my 13 year old ears heard my 17 year old sister and her friends (I think from church) hooting in the living room to a Sunday night episode of British comedy on public television. Already supposed to be asleep, I crept down the hall unnoticed to watch from around the corner, unseen by the room full of eyes transfixed on the most send-ups possible in a half-hour. I mentioned the experience to my sister not too long ago, and she did not remember anyone ever coming over to watch any such show with her. How could she forget?
For her, it was just another Sunday night with friends: mundane, nothing to remember. But my skulking, the show’s irreverence, and my sister’s older friends make the evening unforgettably unique for me. By creation’s nature or ours, the familiar is mundane practically by definition, and sometimes worse. Paraphrasing Solomon: “If you find honey, eat only enough, or you may also find—to be euphemistic—a digestive refund.”
Thank God for goods in this world. Every gift is from him, after all. But chocolates, novels, vacations, and sunsets are ephemera, in stark contrast to the eternal glory in Christ to which Peter says God has called us. Our entrance into the throne room is made sacred not by its taboo, but by our confidence that it is always available. And the Spirit’s holiness in us is undiminished by the constancy of his presence.
We may seek momentary escape from a dark mood or anxious experience, but the “joy unspeakable and full of glory” God provides is perpetual.
May God’s constant presence sanctify this week in us, and open the way to the throne for those we serve.