ON THIS SIDE OF FULFILLMENT Of All Things
Exploring Life in the Fulfillment of All Things
One of the questions I often get asked when discussing the fulfillment of all things in scripture is, “If everything has already been fulfilled, then what does that mean for us today? What's left?” I love that question because it opens the door to a conversation I think we've barely begun to explore.
For generations, much of our understanding of life has been shaped by what we're waiting for. We're waiting for the coming of the Lord, waiting for the resurrection, waiting for the kingdom to arrive in its fullness, waiting for the restoration of all things, waiting for death to be defeated, and waiting for the day when we'll finally possess everything God has promised. We've developed entire systems of belief around anticipation, and that expectation has shaped how we understand ourselves, how we approach God, and even how we imagine the future.
But what happens when we're no longer looking toward those things as future events? What happens when we recognize that we're living on the other side of everything the apostles were anticipating, in the reality of the new creation, the unshakable kingdom, and the fullness of all things?
I think that changes the entire conversation about what it means to be human. Because now we're not simply discussing what Jesus accomplished or what happened in the first century. We're exploring what life looks like when everything has been fulfilled, when death has been defeated, when reconciliation is complete, and when humanity is invited to enjoy the fullness of Life without waiting for another prophetic event to take place.
That's the conversation I want to have. I want to explore what has been opened to us, what we possess, who and what we truly are, and the extraordinary possibilities of being alive on this side of fulfillment.
What Happened to Humanity in Adam?
I think one of the best places to begin is in the garden, because our understanding of what happened to Adam has an enormous influence on how we understand the life we possess today.
We've inherited an understanding of the fall that often presents humanity as defective, disconnected from God, and separated from the very Life in which it exists. From there, we develop an understanding of redemption in which Jesus must somehow persuade God to reconnect with humanity. But when I go back and read Genesis, I see something that challenges that entire way of thinking.
In Genesis 1, humanity is created in the image and likeness of God. Before there's a serpent, before there's a forbidden tree, and before there's any conversation about sin, humanity's identity has already been established. Humanity is the visible expression of the invisible Life. There aren't two separate lives, one belonging to God and another belonging to humanity. There is one Life, and humanity exists in oneness with that Life.
Then, in Genesis 3, the serpent introduces the suggestion that eating from the tree will make humanity like God. Think about what is happening in that conversation. Humanity is being persuaded to pursue something that has already been established as the truth of its existence.
The deception introduces the idea that something essential is missing, that there is something humanity must acquire before it can become what it was created to be. And once that idea is embraced, we begin to see something change in how humanity experiences itself.
Adam and Eve become conscious of their nakedness. They cover themselves, hide among the trees, and experience fear in a way the story had not previously described. When God approaches, Adam explains that he was afraid, so he hid.
What I find especially interesting is that God hasn't abandoned Adam. God is still present and still calling to him. God still shows up for the walk with Adam as he did every other day before that moment. The account doesn't describe God withdrawing from humanity. Instead, we find humanity withdrawing from God because something has changed in the way Adam perceives himself.
Before eating from the tree, Adam and Eve were naked and unashamed. Afterward, that same nakedness became something they believed needed to be covered. Their bodies hadn't suddenly become something different, yet the way they experienced themselves had changed dramatically.
Shame entered their experience, followed by fear, hiding, accusation, and blame. Adam began responding to God as though the One in whom his very existence was found was someone to fear.
And that raises an important question about the nature of what happened in the garden. If humanity's existence has always been found within the one Life that is God, then what exactly changed?
What we see is humanity beginning to experience life through a distorted perception of itself and God. Adam began living as though he were separated from the very Life in which he existed.
The fear was real, the shame was real, and the way those perceptions affected his relationships was real. But the separation he perceived wasn't the truth of his existence. And understanding that distinction begins to open our eyes to the extraordinary significance of the death Adam experienced and the victory over death that we now live in.
What Death Did Jesus Defeat?
When we talk about Jesus defeating death, I think it's important that we recognize what that victory means for us today. Because if death has been defeated, then we should be able to recognize what we've been liberated from and what life looks like on the other side of that victory.
In Genesis 2:17, God tells Adam that on the day he eats from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, he will certainly die. Yet when we continue reading, Adam doesn't physically die that day. He continues living.
So what death did Adam experience on the day he ate from the tree? I think the answer begins to emerge when we pay attention to what the account actually describes.
Genesis tells us that his eyes were opened. His perception changed, and that change affected everything about how he experienced himself, God, and the people around him.
The man who had previously been unashamed became ashamed of himself. The man who had enjoyed the presence of God became afraid and began hiding. The man who had celebrated the woman as bone of his bones and flesh of his flesh began blaming her and even implicating God for giving her to him.
Something had happened to the way Adam experienced existence. Fear, shame, accusation, blame, and the perception of separation had become part of his reality.
And I think there's something incredibly revealing about that. Adam didn't stop breathing, walking, talking, or interacting with the world. Yet he began experiencing life through a completely different understanding of himself and God. His eyes had been opened, but what he began seeing was a distorted picture of reality. That was the death he experienced on the day he ate of the tree of the knowledge of Good and evil.
Now consider what it means that Jesus defeated death.
If Adamic death involved humanity living through fear, shame, condemnation, accusation, and the perception of separation, then the victory of Jesus reaches directly into the way we understand ourselves and experience life today.
Think about the way Jesus revealed the Father. He showed us a Father who was not withdrawing from humanity, who wasn't looking for reasons to condemn, and who wasn't withholding His love until people became acceptable. He revealed the truth about God that Adam had lost sight of.
And Jesus also revealed the truth about humanity. By becoming human and through His life, He showed us what it looks like to live in the conscious reality of union, without allowing fear, shame, or the perception of separation to determine our identity or our life.
Paul describes the contrast between Adam and Christ in Romans 5 and 1 Corinthians 15. Where death reigned through Adam, Paul announces the reign of Life through Jesus Christ. And when he celebrates the victory over death, he's announcing something that reaches into the very way humanity understands and experiences existence.
I love what that means for us today because we're not living in the middle of an anticipated victory. We're standing on the other side of all that has been accomplished.
We don't have to approach God through Adam's fear or look at ourselves through Adam's shame. We don't have to organize our relationships around accusation, condemnation, and blame. We don't have to hide from the One whose Life is the very truth of our existence.
And perhaps one of the greatest implications of the defeat of death is that we're no longer bound to the distorted perception through which Adam experienced himself and God. We don't have to see ourselves as anything less than righteousness itself.
We can recognize who we are, who the Father is, and what has always been true of our oneness with Him. We can approach life from the reality Jesus revealed rather than the confusion Adam experienced.
This doesn't mean people never experience fear, shame, or condemnation today. Those experiences can still influence the way people think and behave, but they no longer possess the authority to define our identity or determine what is true about us.
And that's an extraordinary difference. We're not living in Adam's condition, trying to find our way back to a Life from which we've been separated. We're living in Christ, in the fullness of Life, with the freedom to experience ourselves, one another, and the world through the light of what Jesus has revealed.
The last enemy, death, has been defeated, and we're invited to discover what it means to be fully alive.
Jesus Revealed the Father and Humanity
One of the most damaging ideas we've inherited is that Jesus came to rescue humanity from an angry God who wanted nothing to do with us. We were taught that humanity was separated from God, that God couldn't tolerate our condition, and that Jesus stepped between God and humanity to make reconciliation possible.
In many versions of that story, Jesus ends up appearing more compassionate, approachable, and willing to forgive than the Father Himself. Yet when I look at the life and ministry of Jesus, I see Him revealing something entirely different.
In John 14, Philip asks Jesus to show them the Father. Jesus responds by telling Philip that anyone who has seen Him has seen the Father.
I think that statement should shape everything we believe about God. Jesus isn't introducing us to a more compassionate side of God or revealing a change in God's attitude toward humanity. He is showing us who the Father truly is and what He has always been like.
Look at the way Jesus lived. He touched people others refused to touch, welcomed those who had been rejected, forgave those who were condemned, and shared meals with people considered unworthy of religious acceptance. He restored dignity to people whose identities had become defined by their failures, illnesses, and circumstances.
He didn't spend His ministry convincing people that God wanted nothing to do with them. He revealed a Father whose heart was already turned toward humanity, and even at the cross, in the face of humanity's violence and rejection, Jesus expressed forgiveness.
What does that tell us about the Father? It tells me that some of the images of God we've inherited may have been far more distorted than we realized.
The God Jesus reveals isn't looking for reasons to remain distant from humanity. As Paul would later communicate in Acts 17, it is in Him that we live, move, and have our being. Our existence has never been independent of Him.
But there's another dimension to the revelation of Jesus that I think we've often overlooked. Jesus didn't merely reveal who the Father is; He revealed who we are and what it looks like for humanity to live in the conscious reality of union.
Jesus repeatedly spoke of the Father living in Him and doing His works through Him. He described Himself as one with the Father, and everything about His life expressed an awareness of that oneness.
Then, in John 14:20, He tells His disciples that they will come to know that He is in the Father, they are in Him, and He is in them. In John 17, He speaks of humanity sharing in the same oneness He knows with the Father.
Consider what that reveals about our identity. Jesus is showing us a reality in which God and humanity are not two separate sources of life attempting to establish a connection. The life of the Father is the life revealed in the Son, and that same Life is the truth of our existence.
This is why I believe we need to reconsider what redemption actually reveals. Jesus didn't come merely to tell humanity how terrible it was and then offer a religious solution to its condition. He came revealing the Father, dismantling the reign of sin and death, accomplishing reconciliation, and unveiling humanity's true identity.
When we look at Jesus, we're seeing what it means to be fully human. We're seeing a life free from the illusion of separation, a life that knows its identity and expresses the fullness of the Father.
And when John tells us in 1 John 4:17 that as He is, so are we in this world, I think we need to take that statement far more seriously than we have. Because if that's the truth of our existence, then we're not here trying to become something we're not. We're invited to discover and enjoy who and what we already are.
Living Where the Apostles Were Looking
There's something about our position today that I find extraordinary, and it has to do with the difference between where the apostles stood and where we stand.
When we read the New Testament letters, we're reading the words of people who were living through a remarkable period of transition. They were experiencing the arrival of something they had been anticipating, but they were also looking toward the fullness of what was unfolding before them.
Paul spoke of salvation drawing nearer. The writer of Hebrews spoke of the old covenant growing obsolete and disappearing. Peter spoke of salvation ready to be revealed. And in 1 Corinthians 13, Paul described seeing in part and knowing in part while anticipating what was complete.
They also anticipated the coming of the Son of Man, the resurrection, the judgment, the end of the age, and the arrival of the new heaven and earth. These weren't disconnected predictions scattered throughout Scripture. They belonged to the larger fulfillment of the covenantal story that was reaching its completion in their generation.
Those statements remind us that the apostles were not standing in the same place in history that we occupy today. They were living through a transition, while we live on the other side of its completion.
Think about the significance of that for our understanding of life. We're not waiting for the veil to be removed, for the kingdom to arrive, for reconciliation to become complete, or for death to finally be defeated. We're not waiting for the new creation to become a reality.
WE LIVE IN THE REALITY OF WHAT THEY WERE ANTICIPATING.
And I think we've often overlooked how extraordinary that position really is. We continue reading the Epistles as though every expression of waiting, longing, and anticipation describes our own present condition.
But we aren't standing alongside the apostles waiting for the completion of their transition. We're standing in the reality of what they were looking toward, with the fullness of salvation, the unshakable kingdom, and the new creation already ours.
The things they anticipated have become the world in which we live. And rather than spending our lives looking toward their future, we're invited to explore what it means to inhabit that fulfilled reality today.
The Fullness Is Already Ours
For much of my life, I was taught to approach the things of God as though they were available only in portions. We talked about receiving more of the Spirit, obtaining greater measures of anointing, moving into higher levels, and trying to access spiritual gifts that only certain people seemed to possess.
Some people were considered especially anointed, while others were thought to carry particular gifts. Still others were encouraged to pursue what they lacked through prayer, fasting, impartation, or the ministry of someone believed to possess a greater spiritual measure.
And underneath all of that was an assumption that we possessed only fragments of what was available in Christ. Somehow, we had managed to confess union while continuing to organize our entire spiritual experience around deficiency.
But if Christ is our Life, how could we possibly possess only a portion of Him?
Paul writes in Colossians 2:9–10 that the fullness of God dwells in Christ and that we have been brought to fullness in Him. Ephesians 1 speaks of the body of Christ as His fullness, the fullness of the One who fills everything in every way. Ephesians 3 speaks of being filled with all the fullness of God. How HUGE is that!
And then, as I stated before, we have that extraordinary statement in 1 John 4:17: “We are as He is in this world.”
What have we done with statements like these? How have we managed to confess that Christ lives in us while continuing to imagine that we possess only a small portion of what is found in Him?
If there is only one Life, and Christ is our Life, then fullness is already the truth of our existence. We're not waiting for another portion of God to arrive, and we're not attempting to acquire a greater measure of the Life with which we are already one.
I think this invites us to reconsider the way we understand everything from the gifts of the Spirit to the expressions of ministry described in Ephesians 4.
For generations, we've approached spiritual gifts as though Christ has been divided into portions and distributed among humanity. One person supposedly has wisdom, another has prophecy, another has healing, and someone else possesses the anointing necessary to teach, lead, or encourage.
We've created entire systems around discovering which particular gift we possess, often assuming that everything else must come through someone who has been given a different portion.
But if Christ is our Life and we possess His fullness, I think we need to reconsider that understanding entirely. We're not talking about a collection of spiritual abilities that have been divided among humanity. We're talking about the fullness of the one Life that is already ours.
Consider what Paul says in Ephesians 4:11–13. He describes apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers being given for the equipping of the saints and the building up of the body. But he also explains that this work was taking place until they reached unity, maturity, and the measure of the full stature of Christ.
I find that word until especially significant because Paul was writing to people who were still anticipating the fullness of what was unfolding in their generation. They were moving toward the completion of something, while we are living on the other side of that fulfillment.
We're not waiting to reach the full stature of Christ. We're living in the fullness they were anticipating, and that changes the way we understand those expressions of ministry.
Think about Jesus Himself. He embodied everything those ministries were intended to express. He was sent, He revealed the Father, He announced good news, He cared for people, and He taught with wisdom and understanding. Nothing about His Life was divided into separate portions.
And now consider what it means that we are in Christ and Christ is in us. If there is only one Life, and we possess the fullness of that Life, why would we imagine that we only have access to one small part of what is found in Him?
We possess the fullness of every gift and also every expression of ministry because we possess the fullness of Christ Himself. We're not waiting for an additional anointing, another impartation, or a special spiritual designation before we can express what a particular moment requires.
There may be a situation that calls for wisdom, another that calls for encouragement, another that calls for teaching, and another that calls for healing. There may be moments when we're called to nurture someone, speak with clarity, offer direction, or help a person recognize possibilities they haven't been able to see.
And we don't have to approach any of those moments from the assumption that we're spiritually unequipped because someone once told us we possess a different gift.
The fullness of Christ is already ours. Whatever expression of that Life is needed, we can approach the situation knowing that nothing is missing from who we are.
That doesn't mean every person will express everything in precisely the same way. We're wonderfully different in our personalities, experiences, interests, and ways of engaging the world. But those differences don't mean we're carrying different portions of Christ.
Imagine what our communities might look like if we genuinely understood this. Instead of dividing people into spiritual categories and teaching them to depend on someone who supposedly possesses what they lack, we could encourage everyone to recognize the fullness of Life within them.
We could gather together knowing that nobody arrives empty, nobody possesses an inferior portion of Christ, and nobody needs another person's spiritual status to make them complete. Every person is free to discover and express what is already true of their existence.
And perhaps this would change how we approach the situations we encounter throughout our lives. Rather than beginning with the question of whether we possess the particular gift a moment requires, we could begin with the recognition that Christ is our Life and His fullness is ours.
We are as He is, and there is no partial Life on this side of fulfillment. We're invited to live from that fullness in every situation we encounter.
Rivers of Living Water
One of my favorite pictures of what life looks like on this side of fulfillment comes from something Jesus said in John 7. Standing before a crowd, He announces that anyone who is thirsty can come to Him and drink, and then He describes rivers of living water flowing from within them.
John explains that Jesus was speaking about the Spirit. And I think the imagery Jesus uses deserves our attention because it reveals something extraordinary about the Life He was announcing.
He doesn't describe people spending the rest of their existence searching for an external source of water. He describes rivers flowing from within them.
In John 4, Jesus gives the Samaritan woman a similar picture, describing water that becomes a spring within a person, welling up to eternal life. Both conversations introduce an understanding of life that would have challenged the religious expectations of those listening.
Now consider those promises from this side of fulfillment. The Spirit has been poured out, the work has been accomplished, and the Life Jesus was announcing is the Life we possess.
And I love the picture of rivers because rivers don't exist merely for themselves. They move through the landscape, bringing refreshment, nourishment, and life wherever they flow.
This reminds me of the river flowing from the temple in Ezekiel 47, bringing life and healing wherever it goes. It also reminds me of the river of the water of life in Revelation 22, flowing through the New Jerusalem, with the tree of life and its leaves for the healing of the nations.
The imagery is extraordinary when we consider what it reveals about life flowing into the world. Humanity is no longer looking toward a distant temple as the place where God dwells. We are His dwelling place, and the Life that fills all things is the Life flowing from within us.
Think about what that means for the world around us. We're not spiritually impoverished people trying to find enough life to make it through another day. We are the visible expression of the Life that fills all things, and the world becomes the place where that Life is expressed and enjoyed.
I wonder what our neighborhoods, relationships, workplaces, families, and communities might look like if we actually understood ourselves this way. What would happen if we entered everyday situations recognizing that rivers of living water are flowing from within us?
We could approach people with an entirely different awareness of what is possible. Our interactions could become opportunities for encouragement, healing, creativity, peace, generosity, and the enjoyment of life.
And perhaps we'd begin to understand that the river isn't limited to what happens in a religious gathering. It's present in the ordinary moments of our existence, in our conversations, our creativity, our relationships, and the countless ways we engage the world.
The river Jesus spoke about isn't waiting for another prophetic event before it can flow. We're living in the reality He announced, and that Life is already flowing from within us.
The Freedom to Dream, Imagine, and Create
This is where I think the conversation opens into something we've barely begun to explore. If death has been defeated, reconciliation has been accomplished, the end times of an old covenant age has been closed, the kingdom is here, and the fullness of Life is already ours, then what does that mean for the possibilities of human existence?
For so long, we've been taught to view the world as something we're simply passing through. Our attention has been directed toward leaving this existence behind, escaping a fallen world, and eventually arriving somewhere better.
We're not here waiting for the end of everything. We're free to discover what life can become now.
Go back to Genesis for a moment. Humanity is created in God's image and immediately invited to be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth, cultivate, and exercise responsibility within creation.
There's an invitation to engage the world, develop what has been entrusted to humanity, and bring possibilities into visible expression. Humanity was never presented as something that should simply exist without purpose, waiting for another world to arrive.
And perhaps we've lost sight of that original invitation because our attention has been so consumed with sin, judgment, and the expectation of a future rescue.
But when we understand that Jesus has dealt with the reign of death and that we live in the fullness of Life, we can begin recovering our imagination.
Think about what it means to dream, to imagine something that doesn't yet exist in visible form, and then to participate in bringing it into reality. Think about our ability to discover, design, build, cultivate, experiment, and create things that previous generations could never have imagined.
And none of this has to be confined to activities we traditionally call spiritual. Creating a beautiful piece of music, developing new technology, building a home, cultivating a garden, discovering new ways to care for people, creating businesses that improve lives, developing art that opens the imagination, or helping communities flourish can all be expressions of the one Life that is already ours.
I think we need to reconsider the idea that our creative capacities are somehow separate from our spiritual existence. If there is only one Life, why have we divided our experience into categories where certain activities are considered spiritual while others are treated as ordinary or less significant?
The ability to imagine, create, discover, and bring something beautiful into the world is part of what makes human existence so extraordinary. And I believe we've only begun to explore what humanity is capable of expressing.
How much beauty remains to be created? How many discoveries remain to be made? How many ideas are waiting for someone to imagine them? How many new expressions of compassion, generosity, art, community, and human flourishing haven't even entered our thoughts?
And I'm not suggesting that everything we imagine will automatically happen or that life is without challenges. We still live in a world where our decisions matter, where wisdom and responsibility are important, and where creativity often requires patience, effort, and cooperation.
But none of those things means we're lacking Life. They are part of the adventure of exploring what life can look like through the countless possibilities available to us.
Imagine approaching tomorrow without the assumption that the best of what God intended belongs to another existence or far off in the future. Imagine waking up with curiosity about what you might discover, what you might create, whom you might love, and how Life might find expression through you.
The completion of redemption doesn't mean humanity has reached the end of its possibilities. I think it opens our eyes to an extraordinary invitation to explore what has been ours all along.
Exploring Eternity in the Here and Now
There's another dimension of this that I find especially fascinating, and it has to do with our understanding of eternal life.
We've traditionally imagined eternal life primarily in terms of what happens after we die. We picture eternity as an endless continuation of existence somewhere beyond the world we currently inhabit, and we often treat our present lives as little more than preparation for that future experience. But Jesus speaks about eternal life in ways that challenge that assumption.
In John 17:3, He describes eternal life in terms of knowing the Father and Jesus Christ whom He sent. In John 5:24, He says that those who hear His word and believe have eternal life and have crossed over from death to life.
Notice that He speaks of something already possessed. Eternal life is not merely an extension of time after the physical body has died. It is the reality of the Life Jesus revealed, a Life that has no beginning or ending and in which our existence is already found.
And if that's true, then eternity isn't simply something we're waiting to enter. We're already living in the reality of eternal life.
I find that thought exhilarating because it opens up an entirely different understanding of what we're doing here. What if eternity isn't endless duration but also the inexhaustible depth of Life itself? What if we're invited to explore possibilities that never cease to unfold? What if our existence is an ongoing discovery of the extraordinary beauty, wonder, creativity, and possibilities found within Life?
Think about how much there is to discover within the world we already inhabit. The universe stretches beyond anything we can presently comprehend. Life itself contains complexity, beauty, and possibilities that continue to surprise us, and human creativity seems capable of producing expressions that no previous generation could have anticipated.
And we're invited to participate in all of it. We don't have to postpone the enjoyment of eternity until some future moment when our physical existence comes to an end.
We can experience wonder today, enjoy beauty today, discover new possibilities today, and explore the depths of Life right here and now. That's an extraordinary realization when you consider how much of our religious understanding has been shaped by the expectation of something better waiting somewhere else.
Perhaps one of the greatest limitations we've placed upon our imagination has been the assumption that eternity belongs primarily to our future. We've been so focused on what eternal life will be like someday that we haven't fully considered what it means to possess it now.
And I think there's something important to recognize here. Fullness doesn't mean we've exhausted everything there is to experience or discover.
We can possess fullness while continuing to explore the inexhaustible possibilities of Life. There is no contradiction between being complete in Christ and discovering new expressions of creativity, understanding, relationship, and joy.
In fact, I wonder whether that ongoing discovery is part of what makes eternity so extraordinary. We can explore, imagine, create, learn, enjoy, and continually encounter possibilities that expand our understanding of what it means to be alive.
And perhaps we've only begun to imagine the adventure that is already ours.
The Ministry of Reconciliation Takes on New Meaning
All of this brings tremendous clarity to something Paul describes in 2 Corinthians 5: the ministry and message of reconciliation.
Paul says that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting people's sins against them, and that He entrusted the message of reconciliation to us.
I think we've often misunderstood the significance of what Paul was communicating. For generations, we've approached ministry as though our assignment is to convince God to accept people or convince people that they're separated from God and must perform the necessary religious actions to get Him to come near.
We've created systems in which people are first persuaded that they're spiritually deficient, disconnected, and unacceptable. Then we offer them a way to obtain the acceptance and connection we've convinced them they lack.
But when Paul describes reconciliation, he begins with something God has accomplished in Christ. The message is grounded in what has already taken place.
And from this side of fulfillment, we can announce reconciliation as an accomplished reality. We're not presenting the possibility that God might become willing to accept humanity if enough conditions are met.
We're revealing the Father Jesus revealed and announcing the truth of what has been accomplished.
But I think there's a dimension of this ministry that we've hardly explored, because reconciliation reaches much further than changing someone's religious beliefs.
What if the ministry of reconciliation is also about helping humanity discover who and what it truly is? What if it's about awakening people to the Life that is already theirs, the identity Jesus has revealed, and the extraordinary possibilities available for them to explore and enjoy?
Think about how dramatically that changes the way we approach people.
We no longer have to begin by convincing someone that they're worthless or fundamentally defective. We don't need to manufacture a sense of separation so that we can offer a religious solution. We don't have to present the Father as someone withholding Himself until people become acceptable.
Instead, we can invite people to see the Father revealed in Jesus and discover what that revelation means for their own existence. We can help people recognize their worth, rediscover their imagination, experience freedom from condemnation, and begin seeing possibilities for their lives that they may never have considered.
And I think this could fundamentally change how we understand ministry. Imagine communities where people are encouraged to discover their creativity, cultivate meaningful relationships, pursue their dreams, care for their neighbors, and contribute to the flourishing of the world. Imagine helping someone realize that they don't have to spend their entire existence trying to become acceptable to God, because their identity is already established in the Life Jesus revealed.
Imagine what happens when people begin to recognize that they have something meaningful to contribute to the world around them. Their lives no longer have to be organized around the fear of punishment, the expectation of separation, or the pursuit of a missing spiritual identity.
They can begin enjoying the reality of reconciliation and discovering what that means for their everyday experience.
And this is where our understanding of ministry can expand far beyond the walls of religious gatherings. The message of reconciliation can be communicated through conversations, relationships, hospitality, art, music, education, community, and countless other expressions of Life.
I think there's something beautiful about the possibility of helping people recover their imagination. When someone has spent years believing they're deficient, rejected, or separated from God, those beliefs can restrict what they imagine is possible for their life.
But when those ideas begin to lose their authority, an entirely different world of possibilities can open before them.
Perhaps part of our ministry is helping humanity recognize that its existence is not merely about escaping something terrible. It's about discovering the extraordinary Life that is already ours and learning to enjoy and express that Life in the world. And what an incredible message that is to carry.
What Kind of Humanity Does Fulfillment Reveal?
I keep coming back to this question because I think it brings everything together. What kind of humanity emerges when people genuinely recognize that death has been defeated, reconciliation has been accomplished, all has been fulfilled and union is the truth of their existence?
What might happen when people stop approaching life through the assumption that something essential is missing? How might our relationships change if we no longer see ourselves and one another through condemnation, fear, and deficiency?
Think about how differently our communities might function if we stopped constructing hierarchies around who supposedly possesses more of God. Think about what could happen to human creativity if people were no longer suspicious of their own imagination or convinced that their greatest purpose was simply to endure the present world until something better arrived.
I think these questions reach into nearly every dimension of our existence because the way we understand God shapes the way we understand ourselves, and the way we understand ourselves shapes how we engage the world.
If we believe God is distant, we may spend our lives trying to close that distance. If we believe we're deficient, we may organize our existence around acquiring what we think we lack. If we believe the world is merely waiting for destruction, we may never seriously consider what we're capable of cultivating within it.
But what happens when we begin with the Father revealed in Jesus and the recognition that there is only one Life?
What happens when our understanding of ourselves begins with union, reconciliation, the defeat of death, the presence of the kingdom, and the fullness that is already ours? I think that changes the way we approach almost everything.
We can begin seeing people as participants in the same Life rather than as outsiders waiting for permission to belong. We can approach challenges with creativity instead of automatically assuming we're powerless. We can become more interested in bringing healing than assigning blame, more interested in cultivating life than defending religious boundaries.
And perhaps we'd begin recognizing that being fully alive is not a distraction from the accomplishment of Jesus. It's an expression of the very Life He revealed.
Jesus said He came that we might have life and have it abundantly. I wonder how much our understanding of that statement has been restricted by the belief that the fullness of what He promised still belongs to some future moment.
What if we actually allowed ourselves to believe that the Life He revealed is the Life we possess now? What if we began exploring our existence from that understanding instead of continuing to live as though we're waiting for something essential to arrive?
I think the possibilities are far greater than we've imagined.
So, What's Left for Us?
Now we can return to the question that started this entire conversation: “If everything has been fulfilled, what's left for us?”
I think that question reveals how thoroughly we've been conditioned to associate our purpose with anticipation. We've become so accustomed to waiting for Jesus to accomplish something that we sometimes struggle to imagine what our existence means if the work is already finished.
If we're not waiting for Jesus to return, what are we supposed to do? If we're not waiting for the kingdom to arrive, what are we supposed to pursue? If death has already been defeated and reconciliation is complete, what remains?
But consider how strange that question would sound if we asked it of someone who had spent their entire life in captivity and had finally been set free.
Imagine the doors opening, the restraints being removed, and that person stepping into a life they had never been free to explore. Would we look at them and ask, “Well, now that you're free, what's left?”
There's an entire life waiting to be lived. There are places to explore, people to love, relationships to enjoy, ideas to develop, beautiful things to create, and possibilities that have yet to be imagined.
Freedom doesn't eliminate purpose. It opens the door to experiencing life without captivity defining the possibilities. And I think that helps us begin to understand what it means to live on this side of fulfillment.
We're not here trying to convince God to finish something. We're not waiting for the old covenant to pass away or for the kingdom to arrive. We're not waiting for death to be defeated or for reconciliation to become a reality.
We're living in the reality of what has been accomplished, and that accomplishment has changed how we understand everything.
The Father has been revealed, Adamic death has been defeated, the old covenantal order has passed away, and the new creation is here. The veil has been removed, reconciliation has been accomplished, the kingdom is present, and the fullness of Christ is ours. And rivers of living water flow from within us.
When I think about all of this, I can't help but remember how much of my own life was spent pursuing things I was taught I didn't yet possess. I was waiting for the next move of God, the next level of anointing, the next revelation, and the next spiritual breakthrough. There was always something more I supposedly needed before I could fully experience the Life Jesus came to reveal.
And now, standing on this side of things, I'm beginning to see the invitation very differently. I don't have to spend my existence chasing a future fulfillment to give meaning to my present life.
I can enjoy the reality of what has been accomplished while continuing to discover the countless possibilities that reality opens. I can dream, imagine, create, love, explore, and experience the wonder of being alive without the assumption that something essential is still missing.
And that changes the way I imagine the future. The future is no longer a place where I'm waiting for Jesus to complete His work. It's an open landscape of possibilities in which the Life He revealed can be expressed in ways we may have never dreamed possible.
We don't need another covenant, another sacrifice, another victory over Adam, another defeat of death, or another accomplishment of reconciliation. What was promised has been fulfilled, and we're invited to explore what that means for our existence.
I think one of the greatest discoveries humanity has yet to make is what life can actually look like when we recognize the fullness of that reality. And I don't pretend that we've exhausted the implications of any of this, because I suspect we're only beginning to imagine what it means to be human on this side of fulfillment.
There is so much to explore, so much to discover, so much to create, and so much Life to enjoy. We have eternity to explore in the here and now, rivers of living water flowing from within us, and the extraordinary privilege of inviting others into the discovery of who and what they truly are.
So when someone asks me, “If everything is fulfilled, then what's left?” I don't hear a question that threatens the significance of fulfillment. I hear an opportunity to introduce a much larger conversation about humanity, about Life, and about the possibilities that are already before us.
Because fulfillment was never intended to leave humanity without a purpose. It reveals the freedom to experience the very Life humanity was always intended to enjoy.
Death has been defeated, and we're invited to live in the fullness of Life. And I can't help but wonder what this world might begin to look like as more and more people awaken to that reality, discover who they truly are, and allow themselves to imagine what is possible.
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Meet Serge
Serge is an author, minister, podcast host, and the founder of Urban Eden Community. his passion is helping people see God more clearly, awaken to who they are, and engage life more fully. Through essays, conversations, books, and community, his hope is to create spaces where people can ask honest questions and discover the life that's already present within them.
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