What We Still Haven’t Found
Copyright 2012 by Shea Oakley
All rights reserved
While we remain here on earth there always seems to be a sense that we have not truly received the thing we desire most. This is the nagging sense that something we desperately want remains just out of reach. We sense its reality, sometimes even its partial presence, but we remain displaced from it. I believe this thing is the final redemption of our souls.
An argument could even be made that those who have not yet experienced a saving encounter with Jesus Christ might still have a sense of the need not only for salvation, but for this “something else” beyond salvation, yet contingent upon it. That “it” is the complete perfecting of our being that is inviolably linked to standing before our Lord and Savior past the veil of death. For our purposes here the question of whether it can be sensed by both the saved and the unsaved is not the most important thing. What is important is the fact that not yet possessing this final state of being is the driver for the fundamental sense of incompleteness, and its resulting pain, that all men know in the here and now, here on earth.
The Irish rock star Bono, of U2 fame, once sang that he still hadn’t found what he was looking for. He penned these lyrics despite the fact that he and two out of three of the remaining members of the group were professed Christians at the time. Some have since used the song to verify their judgment that the members of U2 “aren’t really saved.” but I take a different view. Bono actually speaks of Jesus breaking his bonds and loosing his chains later in I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For, but something is still missing and he knows it. I believe many thoughtful believers can relate to this knowledge. I know I can.
Maybe what is missing is the one thing that even an authentic Christian cannot fully possess in this life: the experience of both fully knowing God and being fully known by Him. This must wait for the spiritual departure from this world that comes with the end of our present physical existence here. It is absolutely impossible to know this fullness of knowledge as long as we sojourn in the “far country” of a fallen world which is, by its very nature, not only impermanent but profoundly imperfect.
We should not underestimate the pain this causes us. It is sometimes agony to crave this thing that is denied us in the here and now. It does us no good to use a less powerful word. The sense of displacement from both He who we are meant to know fully, as well as from what we will become once we possess that knowledge, is perhaps the most agonizing experience a human being can have.
This hard fact must, of course, be tempered by the reality of what have been called “postcards from Heaven”. These are the sublime experiences of the presence of a loving God that we sometimes know even now. As a follower of Christ becomes more seasoned in the faith such “mountain-top experiences” may become more common or less, but either way I believe all true believers are graced with them periodically through out their earthly lives. Such experiences are drinks of cool water in a land that is more commonly parched and they are moments for which we can be profoundly grateful.
But no matter how good these occasions are they are not the thing itself and we find ourselves needing to accept that the thing itself cannot be had today unless today is the day we are called home. This does not mean that we are to simply lie down and wait for it. Sanctification is a journey that embraces both our lives here and our completion there. We are told to pick up our cross and follow our Lord in this life because He is using that walk to prepare us for our homecoming and the ultimate joy that will follow it. He also uses our time here to help put others on the same path we walk, a great joy in and of itself.
In the meantime it is OK to know that we “still haven’t found what (we’re) looking for.” Likewise it is alright to confess to the pain this reality can bring but, even so, may it also be that at such moments of pain we trust God to once again lift our heads in preparation for finally finding it.