Christian reader, we earnestly invite your attention to this point. We do indeed feel its importance at the present moment. The enemy is seeking diligently to lead souls away from God, away from Christ, away from the holy Scriptures. He is seeking to get them to build on something short of _the truth_. He does not care what it is, provided it is not Christ. It may be reason, tradition, religiousness, human priesthood, fleshy pietism, holiness in the flesh, sectarianism, morality, good works, service (so called), human influence, patronage, philanthropy, anything short of Christ, short of God's word, short of a lively, personal, direct faith in the living God Himself.
Now it is the sense of this pressing home upon the heart that leads us to urge with earnestness upon the reader the necessity of being thoroughly clear as to the ground on which he is at this moment standing. We want him to be able to say in the face of all around him, "_I know._" Nothing less than this will stand. It will not do to say, "_I hope._" No; there must be certainty. There must be the ability to say, "We know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, _we have_ a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." This is the language of faith, the language of a Christian. All is calm, clear, and sure, because all is of God. There may be an "if" with regard to "the earthly house." It may be dissolved, it may crumble into dust. All that belongs to this scene may bear the stamp of death; it may change and pass away, but the Word of the Lord endureth forever, and the faith that grasps and rests upon that Word partakes of its eternal stability. It enables one to say, "_I know_ that _I have_." Naught but faith can say this. Reason can only say, "I doubt;" superstition, "I fear:" only faith can say, "I know and am sure."
An infidel teacher once said to a dying woman whom he had indoctrinated with his infidel notions, "Hold fast, Mary." What was her reply? "I can't hold fast, for you have never given me anything to hold by." Cutting rebuke! He had taught the poor woman to doubt, but he had given her nothing to believe; and then, when flesh and heart were failing, when earthly scenes were passing away and the dread realities of eternity were crowding in upon her soul's vision, infidelity altogether failed her; its wretched cobwebs could afford no refuge, no covering, in view of death and judgment. How different the condition of the believer--of the one who, in all simplicity of heart and humility of mind, takes his stand on the solid rock of Holy Scripture! Such an one can calmly say, "_I am now ready_ to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but to all them, also, that love His appearing" (2 Tim. iv. 6-8).
It is more than probable that some may find it difficult to reconcile the calm certainty expressed in the first verse of our chapter with the groan of ver. 2. But the difficulty will vanish the moment we are enabled to see the true reason of the groan. "For in this we groan, earnestly desiring to be clothed upon with our house which is from heaven, if so be that, being clothed, we shall not be found naked. For we that are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened; not for that we would be unclothed, but clothed upon, that mortality might be swallowed up of life."
Here we see that the very certainty of having "a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens," makes us groan to possess it. The apostle did not groan in doubt or uncertainty. He did not groan under the weight of guilt or fear. Still less did he groan because he could not satisfy the desires of the flesh or of the mind, or because he could not surround himself with this world's perishable possessions. No; he longed for the heavenly building--the divine, the real, the eternal. He felt the heavy burden of the poor, crumbling tabernacle; it was a grievous hindrance to him. It was the only link with the scene around, and as such it was a heavy clog of which he longed to be rid.
But, most clearly, he would not, and could not, have groaned for the heavenly house if he had a single question on his mind with respect to it. Men are never anxious to get rid of the body unless they are sure of possessing something better; nay, they grasp this present life with intense eagerness, and tremble at the thought of the future, which is all darkness and uncertainty to them. They groan at the thought of quitting the body; the apostle groaned because he was in it.