Deceptive Similarity

"One more step towards a pain-free world."

This statement, from Tylenol's latest advertising campaign, has bothered me since the first time I heard it. It didn't merely irritate me, or make me feel unsettled - it actually sent chills through me. I couldn't explain why at first, or why it continued to do so each time I heard one of these TV or radio spots. However, a seemingly unrelated conversation a couple of days ago made it all clear.

My good friend Steph is serving with the Peace Corps in Macedonia. Through the wonders of modern technology we've been able to stay in touch pretty frequently, and chat live from time to time. Yesterday, she was proudly making use of the internet connection she recently had installed in her apartment, and she talked about some of the surprising things she's discovered - namely easy internet access and all if affords her - that make Macedonia seem not unlike the United States. She went on to tell me that according to the Peace Corps, volunteers in Eastern Europe have the highest rate of depression, and that's partly attributed to the fact that, on the surface, things look so much like home, but in reality they are not.

On the surface, things look like home... but in reality, they are not.

This is exactly why Tylenol's efforts to make this a pain-free world scare me. As mere humans defy age, risk, pain, it becomes easier to ignore our own mortality, and it becomes nearly impossible to remember our utter reliance on the grace of the One who created us. Furthermore, it seems that with every new innovation, whether in medicine or technology or safety engineering or myriad other fields, this world - at least our Western version of it - is starting to look more and more "perfect" on the surface. Tylenol and so many other fixes cheaply satiate our longing for a world beyond this one.

These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city. Hebrews 11:13-16

The Bible speaks of people of faith who longed for a better country - a heavenly one. In my own travels and in the stories I've heard from others, we often find the strongest faith in the people who have the least here on this earth - they know there must be a better place, so they wait and long for that heavenly home. They would anxiously and wholeheartedly join in singing the old spiritual, "Soon and very soon, we are going to see the Lord!" and soon could not be soon enough.

This type of longing and expectation - this faith - does not typically characterize those of us who have plenty. Surrounded by worldly abundance and material comforts, I find myself joining with Andrew Peterson in singing one of my favorite songs of his, "Land of the Free." The words of the song are directed towards Elba, a little girl in South America:

"...I'm just a little jealous
Of the nothing that you have
Unfettered by the wealth of
The world that we pretend is gonna last...

They say God blessed us with plenty
I say you're blessed with poverty
'cause you never stop to wonder
whether Earth is just a little better than the Land of the Free."

This world is not going to last. When I consider the faith of those remembered in Hebrews 11, I wonder - as we, through feeble human striving, try to build a world that more closely resembles the heavenly country we should be fixing our eyes on, is God ashamed to be called our God? I fear that he might be. Each step towards a pain-free world takes us one step closer to a world that doesn't think it needs God, and that kind of world is a dangerous one in which to live. The more comfortable we get in this world, which on the surface may resemble home, the more uncomfortable we will be when we're confronted with the reality of the true differences between this world and the one that is to come. This deceptive similarity will lead us to so much more than depression.

Lord, give me eyes to see the reality of this world, and instill in me a longing for your homeland. Let me live with the knowledge that the things of this world will not last, and keep me always mindful of my complete reliance on you for each breath, each day. You have prepared for us a city; let me live in this world in such a way that I will be prepared for eternal life with you in that city.