How Citizens of Heaven Live on Earth

Have you ever traveled to a foreign country and felt that strange awareness that you simply don't belong? The currency is unfamiliar, the customs are different, even the way people measure distance or temperature reminds you that this isn't home. There's something profoundly disorienting about being a foreigner—yet also clarifying. You become acutely aware of where you truly belong.

This experience of being a stranger in a foreign land isn't just a travel inconvenience. It's actually a powerful picture of what the Christian life is meant to feel like every single day.

A Colony of Heaven

In Philippians 3:17-21, we encounter one of Scripture's most compelling descriptions of Christian identity: "Our citizenship is in heaven." This wasn't just poetic language to the original readers in Philippi. It was a statement loaded with political and cultural significance.

Philippi was a Roman colony, situated roughly 700-800 miles from Rome itself. Yet despite the distance, the people of Philippi were considered full Roman citizens. They didn't adopt the local Macedonian customs or language. Instead, they spoke Latin, followed Roman law, and told their children stories about the greatness of Rome. Though they lived far from the capital, their allegiance, their identity, and their way of life were all shaped by a city they might never even visit.

The message is clear: just as those Roman colonists never forgot where they belonged, followers of Jesus must never forget that we belong to heaven. We live on earth, but our true home is elsewhere. The church is essentially a colony of heaven on earth, and our conduct should reflect our citizenship.

Five Marks of Heavenly Citizenship

1. Walking With Godly Patterns

"Join in following my example, and note those who so walk, as you have us for a pattern."

The Christian life isn't meant to be figured out in isolation. We need visible examples—people who show us in real time what following Jesus actually looks like. This isn't about finding perfect people to emulate; it's about identifying those who are genuinely pursuing Christ and learning from their journey.

Think of young elephants in Africa. Wildlife researchers once removed older male elephants from a herd to thin the population. The result was catastrophic. The young bulls became aggressive and destructive, even killing white rhinos and threatening tour buses. It wasn't until mature males were reintroduced that order was restored. The young elephants needed the example of the older ones to know how to live.

The same principle applies in the kingdom of God. We need spiritual mentors, discipleship relationships, and community with mature believers who can say, "I've walked this road before. Keep going."

2. Watching for Pretenders

Not everyone who walks among God's people actually walks toward God. This sobering reality moved the apostle Paul to tears. He warned of "enemies of the cross" who could be identified by four characteristics: their path leads to destruction, their desires rule them, they boast in what should humble them, and they set their minds on earthly things.

Throughout history, wherever something true exists, a counterfeit appears alongside it. False teachers, pretend believers, and those who use religious language while harboring worldly hearts have always threatened the church. This isn't a call to paranoia, but to discernment.

The mission field isn't just "out there"—it's often within the church itself. Some people among us aren't hardened enemies; they're simply sincere but unconverted, well-meaning but not truly surrendered. We're called to reach them with the gospel of genuine repentance and full surrender to Jesus.

The honest question this raises is personal: Am I a true citizen or a pretend one? Has my passport been stamped by the blood of Jesus Christ, or am I hiding behind religious activity?

3. Belonging to a Better Homeland

"Our citizenship is in heaven."

Notice the present tense. Paul doesn't say our citizenship will be in heaven someday. It is in heaven right now. Heaven isn't just a future destination; it's a present identity.

This explains why Christians talk so much about heaven. We're not obsessed with the afterlife as an escape plan. We think about heaven for the same reason anyone living abroad thinks about home—because that's where we belong. We engage here, serve here, love here, but our identity, allegiance, and hope come from another kingdom.

Being a foreigner doesn't mean being hostile or disengaged. Foreigners can be good residents, contributing positively to the land where they temporarily live. But foreigners also have limitations. They don't chase the same rewards, pour all their resources into temporary structures, or forget that they're just passing through.

This is why Jesus tells us not to store up treasures on earth. Why would we invest everything in a land we won't stay in forever?

4. Waiting With Eager Expectation

"From which we also eagerly wait for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ."

The word "Savior" would have been provocative in Philippi, where Julius Caesar and his successors were officially declared "Savior of the world." Paul is making a subversive claim: our rescue isn't coming from Rome or any earthly power. Our Savior comes from heaven, and His name is Jesus.

This waiting isn't passive resignation—it's anticipation. It's the kind of holy homesickness that grows stronger the longer you're away from home. You can enjoy life here and still long for there. You can adapt to your temporary residence while never forgetting where you belong.

One of Jesus' great promises was this: "In My Father's house are many mansions. If it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also."

This isn't metaphor. It's a real place. Our names are registered there, written in the Lamb's Book of Life. Our Savior is there, our family gathering is there, and our inheritance is secured there.

Living with this expectation shapes how we live now. It restrains sin, fuels holiness, sharpens urgency, and deepens love for the lost. There's nothing more purifying than believing Jesus could return at any moment.

5. Living in Light of Future Glory

"Who will transform our lowly body that it may be conformed to His glorious body."

This is the ultimate upgrade. Our current bodies are temporary, fragile, and flawed—what Scripture calls "lowly" or bodies of humiliation. But transformation is coming. The Greek word used here suggests a complete reconstruction, a total redesign from the blueprint up.

The model for our future bodies is Jesus Himself after His resurrection. He was still recognizable, showing continuity with His earthly body, but He also had new capabilities. Locked doors couldn't stop Him. Distance didn't limit Him. He appeared and disappeared, walked through walls, yet could still eat fish and be touched.

Imagine a body that never wears out, breaks down, gets sick, aches, or ages. No weakness, no fatigue, no pain, no decay, no disease, no death. This isn't wishful thinking—it's a guaranteed benefit of citizenship in heaven.

The Stockdale Paradox

Admiral James Stockdale spent over seven years as a prisoner of war in Vietnam, enduring torture and isolation. When asked who didn't survive, he gave a surprising answer: "The optimists."

He explained that the optimists kept setting dates—"We'll be out by Christmas, by Easter, by summer"—and when those dates passed, their hearts broke. The ones who survived were those who never lost faith in the end of the story but also faced present reality honestly. They knew suffering was real, but they also knew rescue was coming.

Citizens of heaven aren't naive optimists. We don't deny pain or pretend the race isn't hard. We don't ignore the weakness of this body or the brokenness of this world. But we never lose sight of how the story ends.

One day the race will be over. The waiting will be finished. The body will be redeemed. And the citizens will finally be home.

Until then, we run, we watch, we wait, and we live as what we truly are: citizens of heaven, walking faithfully on earth.