As we turn the page on another year, and as I consider the landscape of possibilities that lay before us as a community, I am drawn to the writings of a favorite ancient writer of mine who wrote:

Oh, if only you could see the everlasting crowns of the saints in heaven and how much glory they now enjoy—those same saints who, when they were alive, were held in utter contempt by the world and were thought unworthy of even drawing breath. Doubtless you would at once humble yourself to the very dust and would seek rather to be everyone’s servant than anyone’s master.[1]

This classic work, The Imitation of Christ, by Thomas à Kempis, was written about 700 years ago. It is a classic because, like a Bach concerto, it still “speaks” to the human soul or spirit. And as we look forward to the new beginnings that inevitably arise with the coming of a new year, there are lessons we moderns can consider in the wisdom of this godly saint.

When I read the words of Jesus speaking to the “Disciple,” as à Kempis calls him in that book, I am easily drawn into a personal relationship with Jesus. Thomas was part of a “pre-evangelical” movement called the Devotio Moderna (Modern Devotion), which was a “modern” notion at the time. Interestingly, this movement brought a new vitality to Christianity through a semi-monastic lifestyle that emphasized the study of the Scriptures and service to the poor and underserved.

When I first studied these late medieval reform movements under our own Dr. Richard Lovelace,[2] I was hooked: “Wow, this is beautiful!” I thought. “Our evangelicalism can be nurtured and challenged to greater depth by these saints of old.” I began to see myself as being discipled by both my professors and by the saints. This form of discipleship has been my pattern of personal devotion since the early 1980s: learning from the dead who are now glorified in Christ.

So, when I reread this passage recently, I, again, was convicted. Can I change my perspective in such a way that I focus on the glory of the saints in heaven—the missionary martyrs, the visionary champions, the imprisoned and tortured for Christ—and thus, like them, seek above all to serve with no thought of earthly glory?

I’d like to think I can, but I need help. We all need help to remember that all the titles and glories of this life are a passing scene and as nothing compared with the glorious and loving fellowship we’ll share with Jesus in heaven. Here I find C.S. Lewis helpful. If I remember correctly, his fantasy, The Great Divorce, includes a bus that flies to heaven where heavenly grass feels to earthly feet like knife blades, so great was the substance and reality of heaven.

I also remember Lewis’s book The Last Battle, which I’ve read at least three times to our children, and how it ends with the exultant expression, “further up and further in!”

Eternity cannot be compared with our temporary and fallen world of working, striving, learning, loving, failing, and forgiving that comprises our daily experience.

Thank you, Brother Thomas, for reminding me of this heavenly perspective. As we move into the coming year, help me—and us all—to think such heavenly thoughts that we might be some earthly good. May humility flourish in our actions as our minds are increasingly captured by heavenly glory.

[1] Thomas à Kempis. Translation by William C. Creasy. The Imitation of Christ (Notre Dame, IN: Christian Classics), 1989.
[2] Learn about him in “Remembering Richard F. Lovelace.”

Dr. Scott W. Sunquist, President of Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, is author of the “Attentiveness” blog. He welcomes comments, responses, and good ideas.