This World Is Not My Home
Strangers • Sermon • Submitted • Presented
0 ratings
· 7 viewsOur citizenship and ultimate identity lie somewhere else. "Family Matters" said, "I belong here." And because I belong here - to Christ and His people - I will never completely belong to this world.
Notes
Transcript
Doxology:
This is my Bible. It is God’s Holy Word. It is a lamp unto my feet, a light unto my path, and I will hide its words within my heart, that I might not sin against God. Amen!
Scripture Reference: 1 Peter 2:9-12
Context
Context
I want to start this morning by taking us on a quick journey of where we have been so far this year:
Experiencing God
In this series, we experienced the truth that, “We are to know Him?” We looked at what is called spiritual disciplines, which are just that. They are spiritual practices that we are called to discipline ourselves in. And if we do discipline ourselves in these things, it will lead to spiritual growth and maturity in our walk with the Lord.
The Gospel of C.H.R.I.S.T.
In this series, we we experienced the truth that “We are saved by Him”. We broke down the Gospel of Christ into six messages, explaining that our sin has separated us from God, but through His grace and mercy, He has paved a way back into His presence through the cross of Calvary.
Catching Fire
In this series, we experienced the truth that “We are filled by Him”. Jesus did not leave us empty handed when He ascended to the Father. He sent another comforter to take His place, and this comforter is none other than the Holy Spirit of God. He came to live in us, to take up residence in our hearts, to lead us and guide us into all truth, and to help us live out that truth in our daily walk with Him.
Why Are We Here?
In that series, we experienced the truth that “We are to grow through Him”. As we learn to walk with the Holy Spirit and submit to His leadership in our lives, we grow closer to the Lord. And as a result of that growth, we utilize this building as a ground zero to not only teach others how to grow as well, but to send out people into the community to share Christ with others.
Family Matters
Throughout that series, we discussed how that “We belong to Christ and to one another”. We were able see we belong to Christ, but also to the local assembly that God has brought us too. And God uses that family to advance us in our spiritual growth journey and align us to His Word.
This whole year, we have been working along the same lines, operating under one theme. And that theme has been “Who Are We?” What is our identity in Christ?
And this next series that we are jumping into today is no different. In fact, we are going to answer that question directly. The title of this series is, “Strangers”!
The foundational text that we are going to use throughout this series is 1 Peter 2:9-12
9 But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light;
10 who once were not a people but are now the people of God, who had not obtained mercy but now have obtained mercy.
11 Beloved, I beg you as sojourners and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts which war against the soul,
12 having your conduct honorable among the Gentiles, that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may, by your good works which they observe, glorify God in the day of visitation.
Content
Content
Today, we are going to answer this question of, “Who Are We?” by saying first, that we are “Pilgrims”!
In verse 11, Peter writes:
11 Beloved, I beg you as sojourners and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts which war against the soul,
The word translated "sojourners" is the Greek word paroikos. You might recognize a piece of that word — "para," meaning alongside or near, and "oikos," meaning house or dwelling. A paroikos is someone who lives alongside a house that isn't theirs. It's where we get our English word "parish" from, actually. A paroikos is a resident alien — somebody living in a country, participating in that country, even contributing to that country, but who does not hold citizenship there. They're there, but they don't belong there. Not permanently.
The word translated "pilgrims" is parepidēmos. Same prefix, "para" — alongside — combined with "epidēmos," which relates to a people or a population, where we get our word "epidemic" from, like something spreading among a population. A parepidēmos is someone who is temporarily residing among a people who are not their own people. It's the word for a traveler passing through — somebody who's here today and gone tomorrow.
So put those two words together — sojourners and pilgrims. Peter is saying: you live here, but you don't belong here. You're passing through, but you haven't arrived yet.
Now here's the question we've got to answer: why would Peter open with an identity statement — sojourner, pilgrim — before he gives any instruction? Why not just jump straight to "abstain from fleshly lusts"? Why remind them who they are first?
Because — and this is huge, church — how you behave always flows out of who you believe you are. Always. If you believe you're a permanent resident of this world, you will live for this world's approval, this world's comfort, this world's pleasures. But if you know — really know — that you're just passing through, that changes what you chase.
Think about it this way. If you're staying at a hotel for one night on your way somewhere else, you don't rearrange the furniture. You don't paint the walls. You don't plant a garden out back. You use what's there, you rest, and in the morning, you get up and keep moving toward where you're really going. But if you think that hotel room is your permanent home? You'll start decorating it like you're never leaving. And friends, I would venture to say that's exactly what a lot of us have done with this world. We've unpacked everything. We've hung the pictures. We've forgotten we're just passing through.
Last week, we finished up a series that taught us as Children of God, we belong to Christ. We belong to another Kingdom. And if we belong to Christ’s Kingdom, then we will never truly belong to this world ever again.
This world is not our home. That is the big idea that I want you to get settled into your hearts.
This world is not our home!!!
If we look back at verse 9, we read:
9 But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light;
This world used to be our home, but it isn’t anymore. We were born into this world, but we were created for another. Peter follows up in verse 10 by saying:
10 who once were not a people but are now the people of God, who had not obtained mercy but now have obtained mercy.
See, there was a time when we were perfectly comfortable with the idea of belonging to this world. But somewhere along the way, we were met with truth. And the truth is that we were created for more than this world has to offer. We were designed to be in fellowship with beings this world cannot contain. And though we initially rebel against this thought, the love of Christ has a way of bringing us around to this truth.
Each one of us were born into the darkness of this world, and because it is all we knew, we were perfectly fine with remaining in that darkness. But at some point in our lives, the light of God shone into the midst of that darkness and opened our eyes to who He is, and to who we were designed to be. And as that light shone into the midst of our darkness, it awakened something inside of us that we did not know existed. It opened our eyes to a new life, but not just any life. It is a better life.
Jesus said it this way:
10 The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.
We now have a new life in Christ Jesus, and this new life came by way of new birth. The old man has been crucified with Christ and a new you has been born. It is a you that longs for the things of heaven. It is a new you that longs for the things of God.
You have been adopted into the family. You have taken on a new name. You have been given a new nature. And most importantly, you have been given a new outcome. Amen!
But this means that we now live as pilgrims in this land that we once called home. We must now exist in a place that is not designed for us anymore. It is a place that we do not fit in. That’s why most days you feel like a fish out of water. Even on the good days, something still feels like its missing. That’s because your not home yet.
And the people that Peter was writing to would have perfectly understood this. If we back up to the beginning of this book, to Chapter 1, verse 1, we read:
1 Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, To the pilgrims of the Dispersion in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia,
Heavy persecution has come against these Christians, and they are on the run for their lives. Each and every day that they get to wake up is a blessing, and each day could very well be their last. These people were experiencing some of the darkest, ugliest days that this world could throw at them, and Peter wanted them to remember who they were.
Yes… it is hard.
Yes… it is not fair.
Yes… the burden is heavy.
Yes… it is dangerous.
But don’t you forget that we are not living for this world. Don’t you forget what Christ has done for us. Don’t you forget what is waiting for us on the other side. You can’t put a price tag on that. There is no sacrifice to large, no sacrifice to burdensome. It will be worth it after all!
2 elect according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, in sanctification of the Spirit, for obedience and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ: Grace to you and peace be multiplied.
This world may hate you, but God loves you, and He has poured out His grace upon you abundantly. You have been washed by the blood of Jesus Christ and you have been made clean. Your sins are forgiven; Your trespasses wiped clean; Your mind has been restored; and Your heart has been transformed.
Remember who you are!!! Peter says.
3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,
Yes, Jesus died in our place at Calvary. He who knew no sin became sin for us that we might become the righteousness of God in Him. Praise God!
But it gets better. He didn’t stay in the grave. 3 days later, He rose from the grave. Our hope is not in a dead Savior, but a risen Savior. He is alive and well. That is why Peter says that we have a “living hope!” It is because we serve a living God. And what is this hope?
4 to an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that does not fade away, reserved in heaven for you,
5 who are kept by the power of God through faith for salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.
Praise be to God!! Hallelujah!!!
20 For our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ,
This world is not our home!
Now, this word for "citizenship" — politeuma in the Greek — that's where we get our English word "politics" from. It's not a vague, spiritual, floaty word. It's a legal, civic term. It's talking about your actual registered citizenship, your nationality, your home country.
Here's what makes this so powerful. Philippi — the city Paul's writing to — was a Roman colony. And Roman colonies were unique. The people living in Philippi, even though they were geographically located in Greece, were legally considered citizens of Rome. They spoke Latin in their official business. They followed Roman law. They dressed like Romans, structured their city like a mini-Rome. Why? Because their true citizenship, their true allegiance, was to a city they had likely never even seen with their own eyes — Rome, hundreds of miles away.
So when Paul writes to the Philippians and says "our citizenship is in heaven," they knew exactly what he meant! It would have hit them immediately. He's saying: just like you are citizens of Philippi who live under the authority, culture, and identity of Rome — even though Rome is far away — we, as believers, live here on earth, but our true citizenship, our true allegiance, our true culture, belongs to Heaven. Even though we haven't seen it with our own eyes yet.
What was it that he wanted them applying to their faith? That living in Philippi's colony while being loyal to Rome's throne is exactly what it looks like to live on earth while being loyal to Heaven's throne.
And notice — verse 20 doesn't stop at citizenship. Paul says, "from which we also eagerly wait for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ." Citizenship in Heaven isn't just a legal status we hold quietly. It produces eager anticipation. The word "eagerly wait" there carries the idea of craning your neck, watching intently, straining forward to catch the first glimpse of something you know is coming. It's the posture of a person standing at the airport gate, watching every face come through security, waiting for the one face they came to see.
That should be the posture of our hearts.
Turn with me to Hebrews 11 - the great “hall of faith” chapter. Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Sarah — all named earlier in the chapter, all people who trusted God even though they never saw the full promise fulfilled in their lifetime. And the writer of Hebrews pauses right in the middle of that list and gives us this incredible summary. Let's read verses 13 through 16.
Let's take this piece by piece, because this is one of the richest passages in all of Scripture on this exact theme.
13 These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off were assured of them, embraced them and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth.
"These all died in faith, not having received the promises." Stop right there. Abraham was promised a land, a nation, descendants beyond counting. He got a taste of it. But he died without seeing the full promise fulfilled. Same with Isaac. Same with Jacob. Same with Sarah. They died still waiting.
"But having seen them afar off were assured of them, embraced them." What was it about their faith that let them embrace a promise from a distance? What was it that let them hold something they'd never fully touch? I believe it was this: they trusted the character of the One who made the promise more than they trusted their own eyes.
"And confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth." There it is again! Same words we saw back in 1 Peter — strangers, pilgrims. This wasn't a private opinion Abraham kept to himself. The text says they confessed it. Out loud. Publicly. It was part of their testimony. They told people — "We don't belong here. We're passing through."
14 For those who say such things declare plainly that they seek a homeland.
"For those who say such things declare plainly that they seek a homeland." Now here's a piece of logic I want you to catch, because it's beautiful. The writer of Hebrews says: if you hear someone talking like a stranger, calling themselves a pilgrim, living like they don't belong — that kind of talk only makes sense if they're actually seeking a homeland somewhere else. You don't talk like a foreigner unless you actually have a home country somewhere.
15 And truly if they had called to mind that country from which they had come out, they would have had opportunity to return.
Now this is huge. Abraham came from Ur of the Chaldeans — a wealthy, established, comfortable city. He could have gone back! Nobody was stopping him. He had the opportunity. But he didn't call it to mind. He didn't long for what he left behind.
Isn't that convicting? Because a lot of us, when the pilgrim life gets hard, when following Christ costs us something, we start calling to mind the country we came out of. We start remembering how comfortable things were before we got serious about faith. Before we started tithing sacrificially, before we started saying no to certain relationships, before we started living distinctly. And we get opportunity — plenty of opportunity — to go back to that old comfortable country. Abraham didn't take the exit ramp. Will we?
16 But now they desire a better, that is, a heavenly country. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them.
They sought a better country. Not just a different one — a better one. And because of that seeking, that longing, that refusal to settle — God is not ashamed to be called their God. Let that sink in. God attaches His own name to people who live like strangers here, who keep their eyes fixed on a homeland they haven't seen yet. And He's prepared a city for them. Not just promised. Prepared. Already built. Already waiting.
Now let’s talk about something a little more personal for a minute. I want to talk about the longing that we have for home. It’s odd… isn’t it… to be homesick for a place that you’ve never actually been?
I think most of us have felt it, even if we didn’t have words for it. That restless ache. That sense that something’s not quite right, not quite complete.
C.S. Lewis said, “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.” I believe that with my whole heart. That ache you feel? That's not a design flaw. That's a homing signal. God put it there on purpose.
Solomon felt it. Listen to what he says in Ecclesiastes 3:11
11 He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also He has put eternity in their hearts, except that no one can find out the work that God does from beginning to end.
God put a homing signal for Heaven inside every single human being. That's why even people who don't know Jesus still feel that restless ache, that sense that this world, as beautiful as it is, isn't quite enough. They just don't know what to do with the ache. But we do.
David felt it too.
1 As the deer pants for the water brooks, So pants my soul for You, O God.
Paul felt it too.
2 For in this we groan, earnestly desiring to be clothed with our habitation which is from heaven,
We groan. Groaning isn't polite. Groaning is what happens when the ache gets too big to keep quiet.
So here's the question we must answer today: what do you do with that ache? Because I believe there are only two options.
Option one — you numb it. You distract yourself. You buy the bigger house, chase the next promotion, fill your calendar so full you never have a quiet moment to feel the ache. Some of you have been doing this for years. You've gotten so good at numbing the ache that you've forgotten it's even there.
Option two — you let the ache do what it was designed to do. You let it point you toward home. You let it remind you, over and over — this is not my home. This is not my home. This is not my home.
This is not my home — because my citizenship is registered in a country I haven't seen with my own eyes yet, but I've been assured of it by the very Word of God.
This is not my home — because everything in this world, even the best things, eventually breaks, fades, disappoints, or dies, and my soul knows it was made for something that doesn't.
This is not my home — because Jesus Himself told His disciples in John 14, "In My Father's house are many mansions... I go to prepare a place for you." He's not preparing a place for us here. He's preparing it somewhere else.
This is not my home — because like Abraham, I have been given the opportunity, over and over, to call to mind the old country, to go back to comfortable compromise, and by the grace of God, I'm choosing not to take the exit ramp.
This is not my home.
Can we say Amen to that?
Next Steps
Next Steps
So let's bring this all together, because I don't want anybody walking out of here this morning with just a nice phrase in their head. I want you walking out of here with a changed way of living.
Here's what we've seen. Peter tells us we are sojourners and pilgrims. Paul tells us our citizenship is registered in Heaven, and that citizenship should produce eager, neck-craning anticipation for Christ's return. And the writer of Hebrews tells us that every hero of the faith lived and died confessing they were strangers here, refusing to go back to the comfortable country they left, seeking instead a better, heavenly country — a city God Himself has already prepared.
So let me ask you plainly this morning — where does your life say you're a citizen of? Not what your mouth says. What your calendar says. What your bank account says. What your reactions say when things here on earth don't go your way.
Because here's the thing, church — and I want to be really careful here, because this truth can be misused. Knowing this world isn't your home doesn't mean you check out of your job, your marriage, your community, your responsibilities. It doesn't mean you stop caring about your neighborhood, your city, the people around you who are hurting. Remember Peter — sojourners still have "honorable conduct among the Gentiles." Remember Jeremiah 29:7, where God tells the exiles in Babylon, a foreign land they didn't want to be in, "seek the peace of the city where I have caused you to be carried away captive, and pray to the LORD for it; for in its peace you will have peace." Even in exile, even as strangers, God calls us to bless the place we're temporarily living in.
So this isn't a call to withdraw. It's a call to remember. To live here fully, faithfully, sacrificially — while never forgetting this isn't the destination. It's the journey.
Here's what I want you to do this week. I want you to ask yourself, honestly, in a quiet moment — what am I building my life around, the way somebody builds around a permanent home, that I should actually be holding loosely, the way somebody holds something they're just passing through with?
Maybe it's your comfort. Maybe it's your reputation. Maybe it's your bank account, your retirement plan, your need for this life to work out perfectly and painlessly. I'm not saying those things are bad. I'm saying — hold them like a pilgrim holds a walking stick, not like a homeowner holds a deed. Useful for the journey. Not the point of the journey.
And for those of you this morning who are hurting — who came in carrying grief, or sickness, or disappointment, or loneliness — I want you to hear this as good news, not just a doctrine. This is not your home means the sickness is not the end of the story. The grief is not the final word. The disappointment you're carrying is not permanent. There's a better country. There's a city already prepared. And God is not ashamed to call Himself your God, if you belong to Him this morning.
So yes - This world is not your home!!
Next week, we're going to ask the natural next question. If this world isn't our home, then how do we actually live here without losing ourselves in it? Because here's the danger — some people hear "this isn't my home" and use it as an excuse to disengage, hide, isolate, retreat. That's not what Peter meant. That's not what Paul meant. So next week we're going to tackle being holy without hiding — how to be strangers who still shine.
But for today, I just want that phrase to settle in your bones, “This world is not my home!”
As we enter this time of worship, I want to ask you, “Where is your heart with the Lord this morning?”
Are you feeling conviction? Are you feeling overwhelmed? Are you feeling encouraged and filled to the point of bursting? Whatever it is stirring in your heart, the Lord would love to hear about it!!
