Living in Covenant Today, pt. 1
What if I told you that your Monday morning commute could be just as much an act of worship as Sunday morning singing? That your work cubicle could be as sacred as any cathedral? That washing dishes, changing diapers, and answering emails could all be priestly service to the living God?
For the last two and a half months, we've traced God's covenant story from Noah's rainbow to Christ's cross. We've seen how God bound Himself to humanity through promise after promise, covenant after covenant. But here's the question that changes everything: If you're in covenant with God through Jesus Christ, what does that mean for how you live right now, today, in the real world of deadlines and diapers, spreadsheets and suffering?
Today we're diving into week eleven of our twelve-week journey through the biblical covenants. If you're just joining us, you haven't missed the boat (though Noah's ark sailed about eight weeks ago). We've been tracing how God relates to His people through covenant relationships, and today we're asking the crucial question: How do we live as covenant people in the twenty-first century?
From Theory to Practice
Before we dive into our texts, let’s talk about where we've been. We started this series by learning that a covenant isn't a contract, it's not a business deal where both parties negotiate terms and maintain escape clauses. No, a בְּרִית (berit) is a relationship, often sealed in blood, that creates permanent family bonds. Think less "terms of service agreement" and more "till death do us part."
We saw how God preserved creation through Noah, chose a people through Abraham, organized a nation through Moses, established a kingdom through David, and promised heart transformation through Jeremiah. Last week, we celebrated how Jesus fulfills every single one of these covenants—He's the true seed of Abraham, the prophet greater than Moses, the king greater than David, and the mediator of the New Covenant written on our hearts.
But here's where the rubber meets the road: What does all this mean for you when your alarm goes off tomorrow morning? How does covenant theology help when your kids are screaming, your boss is demanding, and your faith feels fragile? That's exactly what the New Testament authors address in the passages we're examining today.
Part I: Covenant Identity Shapes How We Live (1 Peter 2:9-10)
Let's start with Peter's explosive declaration about who you are if you're in Christ. And I mean explosive—these words would have shocked his first-century Jewish readers. Peter takes the charter statement of Israel from Mount Sinai and applies it directly to a bunch of Gentile believers scattered across Asia Minor.
Peter writes: "But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God's people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy" (1 Pet. 2:9-10).
You Are a Chosen Race
The Greek here is γένος ἐκλεκτόν (genos eklekton)—literally a "chosen offspring" or "elect family." Notice that Peter doesn't say you are chosen individuals who happen to gather on Sundays. No, you are a γένος (genos), a family, a tribe, a people. The bond isn't biological; it's spiritual. You're united not by DNA but by the blood of Christ.
This challenges our radically individualistic Western Christianity, doesn't it? We love to talk about "my personal relationship with Jesus," and while that's precious and true, it's not the whole story. Edmund Clowney puts it brilliantly: "The church is more a people than Israel was under the old covenant. Scattered in the world, indeed, as Israel was in dispersion, but a people nonetheless, bound together in the community of those who are united to one another as surely as they are united to their Lord."
Think about the implications. You cannot be a Christian alone. I know that might ruffle some feathers, but stay with me. You can be saved alone—if you're stranded on a desert island and find a Bible, you can absolutely trust Christ and be saved. But you cannot live out your Christian identity alone. Why? Because the very titles Peter uses are corporate, collective, communal. You can't be a "race" by yourself. You can't be a "nation" in isolation. These are irreducibly social categories.
You Are a Royal Priesthood
Now this phrase—βασίλειον ἱεράτευμα (basileion hierateuma)—should make your heart race. Under the Old Covenant, you had kings and you had priests, and never the twain shall meet. Remember King Uzziah? He thought he could waltz into the temple and burn incense. God struck him with leprosy on the spot (2 Chr. 26:16-21). The offices were strictly separated.
But here's the revolutionary truth: In Christ, you are both royal and priestly. You have the authority of kings and the access of priests. Every single believer—not just pastors, not just missionaries, not just the super-spiritual—every believer is a priest.
Martin Luther recovered this doctrine during the Reformation, and it changed everything. He declared, "All we who are Christians are priests, and no believer has greater access to the Creator than any other." Do you grasp the magnitude of this? The janitor who knows Jesus has the same priestly access to God as the Pope. The new believer who trusted Christ yesterday can approach God's throne with the same confidence as the missionary who's served for fifty years.
But what does it mean to be a priest? In the Old Testament, priests had two primary functions: they represented God to the people and the people to God. They offered sacrifices, they taught God's law, they interceded in prayer. And Peter says this is now your job description.
Think about your workplace tomorrow. You are a priest there. Your colleagues may never darken the door of a church, but they work next to a priest—you! You represent God to them through your character, your ethics, your compassion. And you represent them to God through your prayers. John MacArthur warns: "It is dangerous to put our job above our calling by God. We are called to be priests first, and to hold a job second. When we get these out of order, everyone around us is denied access to the Father through us."
You Are a Holy Nation
The phrase ἔθνος ἅγιον (ethnos hagion) describes a people set apart for special purpose. You're not just different; you're different for a reason. You're set apart not to be weird but to be useful to God. Think of it like medical instruments in a surgical suite—they're sterilized and set apart not because they're too good for ordinary use, but because they have a life-saving purpose that requires special preparation.
Peter emphasizes that believers form a spiritual nation that transcends every earthly border. Your deepest citizenship isn't American or British or Korean—it's heavenly. Your most fundamental allegiance isn't to flag or party or tribe—it's to King Jesus. This doesn't make you unpatriotic; it makes you properly patriotic, seeking your earthly nation's good while remembering your ultimate allegiance lies elsewhere.
You Are God's Treasured Possession
The phrase λαὸς εἰς περιποίησιν (laos eis peripoiēsin) comes from the Greek root meaning "to acquire by purchase." You belong to God not just by creation—everyone does—but by redemption. Acts 20:28 speaks of "the church of God, which he obtained with his own blood." First Corinthians 6:19-20 reminds us: "You are not your own, for you were bought with a price."
This ownership isn't oppressive but liberating. It means you're valuable beyond measure. It means God will never let you go. It means your life has cosmic significance. The God who spoke galaxies into existence looks at you and says, "Mine. Bought with the blood of my Son. Treasured. Kept. Loved."
Your Mission Flows from Your Identity
Notice the purpose clause in verse 9: "that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light." The Greek ἐξαγγείλητε (exangeilēte) means to advertise, to announce, to make widely known. You are God's living advertisement.
But here's what's beautiful—you proclaim God's excellencies not primarily through words but through life. Verse 12 continues: "Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation" (1 Pet. 2:12).
Your transformed life preaches a sermon every day. Your integrity at work when no one's watching, your patience with difficult people, your generosity when resources are tight, your hope in the face of suffering—these proclaim God's character more powerfully than a thousand sermons.
Once Not a People, Now God's People
Peter closes this section by quoting Hosea: "Once you were not a people, but now you are God's people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy" (1 Pet. 2:10). In Hosea's original context, God was pronouncing judgment on faithless Israel. Their covenant infidelity had reached such heights that God declared them "not my people."
But the same prophet promised restoration. And Peter boldly applies this to Gentile believers. Those who were never part of ethnic Israel, who had no share in the covenants, who were strangers to the promises—they have now been brought near through Christ's blood. As D.A. Carson explains, "From the perspective of an eighth-century BC Israelite, Hosea's promise probably referred to all Israelites. But when they are gathered in Christ, from no people they really become the people of God."
Part II: Covenant Worship - Living Sacrifice (Romans 12:1-2)
Now let's turn to what might be the most important "therefore" in all of Scripture. Paul writes: "I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect" (Rom. 12:1-2).
The Mercies that Motivate
Paul's "therefore" looks back at eleven chapters of gospel glory. He's just finished explaining justification by faith, adoption as God's children, freedom from condemnation, the gift of the Spirit, the security of God's love, and the faithfulness of God's promises. The Greek plural οἰκτιρμῶν (oiktirmōn) emphasizes abundant, overflowing mercies—not just one act of mercy but cascading compassions.
This is crucial. Pagans sacrifice to obtain mercy; Christians sacrifice because they've already received it. The pattern runs throughout Scripture. God delivered Israel from Egypt, then gave them the law at Sinai. He didn't say, "Obey these commands and maybe I'll rescue you." He said, "I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery" (Ex. 20:2), and then He gave the commandments.
Same pattern here. Chapters 1-11 of Romans announce deliverance from sin's slavery. Chapter 12 begins the call to consecrated living. The gospel indicatives always precede the gospel imperatives.
The Paradox of Living Sacrifice
Paul commands believers to present their bodies as θυσίαν ζῶσαν (thusian zōsan)—a "living sacrifice." This is a deliberate oxymoron. In the Levitical system, sacrifices came to the altar alive but didn't leave that way. They were killed, burned, consumed. But Paul says we are to be living sacrifices—dead to sin but alive to God, crucified with Christ yet living by faith.
The sacrifice is comprehensive. Paul says "present your bodies," but he's not talking about mere physical flesh. The Greek σῶμα (sōma) encompasses your whole person—body, mind, emotions, will, relationships, time, resources, dreams, fears, everything. Nothing is held back. This recalls the Old Testament burnt offering, where the entire animal was consumed on the altar, wholly given to God.
Think about Abraham binding Isaac on the altar. Isaac was placed on the altar alive, consecrated to God, but then provided back to Abraham. That's the paradigm of the living sacrifice—wholly given yet still living, completely consecrated yet walking around in the world.
Spiritual Worship or Reasonable Service?
The phrase λογικὴν λατρείαν (logikēn latreian) has sparked centuries of debate. The KJV translates it "reasonable service." Modern translations often use "spiritual worship." Both capture important dimensions. The word λογικός (logikos) comes from λόγος (logos)—word, reason, logic.
Vincent's commentary notes it means "rational, as distinguished from merely external or material, hence nearly equivalent to spiritual." But Thomas Schreiner adds another layer: Paul chose this word to emphasize that "yielding one's whole self to God is eminently reasonable. Since God has been so merciful, failure to dedicate one's life to him is the height of folly and irrationality."
So yes, it's spiritual worship—not confined to a building or a ritual. But it's also eminently reasonable. Given who God is and what He's done, the only logical response is total consecration. Anything less is cosmic insanity.
This transforms everything about worship. Under the Old Covenant, worship centered on the temple with its rituals and sacrifices. Under the New Covenant, your entire life becomes the temple, every moment becomes the liturgy, every action becomes the offering. As Brother Lawrence discovered washing dishes in a medieval monastery, we can practice God's presence in the kitchen as powerfully as in the cathedral.
Transformation Versus Conformity
Verse 2 presents two contrasting commands with two different Greek verbs. First, μὴ συσχηματίζεσθε (mē syschēmatizesthe)—"do not be conformed" to this world. The root σχῆμα (schēma) refers to external form, outward appearance, temporary fashion. It's the word from which we get "scheme" or "schematic."
The world has its schemes, its patterns, its molds that it wants to press you into. Consumer materialism. Sexual permissiveness. Ruthless ambition. Cynical pessimism. The world has a thousand cookie-cutters, and it wants to stamp you into its image.
But Paul counters with μεταμορφοῦσθε (metamorphousthe)—"be transformed." This is where we get "metamorphosis." The root μορφή (morphē) refers to essential nature, inner reality. This is the word used for Jesus' transfiguration, when His inner glory blazed through His humanity.
Notice the voice of the verbs. "Do not be conformed" is passive—don't let the world squeeze you into its mold. "Be transformed" is also passive—let God transform you. You don't transform yourself any more than a caterpillar decides to become a butterfly. Transformation happens to you as you submit to God's Spirit working through God's Word.
R.C. Sproul captured it perfectly: "Anyone can be a nonconformist for nonconformity's sake. This is cheap. What we are ultimately called to is more than nonconformity; we are called to transformation."
The Renewed Mind
The mechanism of transformation is τῇ ἀνακαινώσει τοῦ νοὸς (tē anakainōsei tou noos)—"the renewal of your mind." The mind is the battlefield. What you think determines what you become. As you saturate your mind with Scripture, as you learn to think God's thoughts after Him, as you see reality through biblical lenses, you are progressively transformed.
This is Jeremiah 31:33 in action: "I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts." This is the New Covenant promise fulfilled—not external conformity to rules but internal transformation by the Spirit. The law is no longer an external code demanding compliance but an internal compass directing desires.
When your mind is renewed, you can "discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect." The Greek δοκιμάζειν (dokimazein) means to test, approve, discern. It was used for testing metals to verify their purity. The transformed mind develops spiritual discernment, the ability to recognize God's will not as a burden but as beautiful, not as restrictive but as liberating.
Part III: Covenant Mission - Go and Make Disciples (Matthew 28:18-20)
Let's turn now to what we call the Great Commission, though I prefer to think of it as the Great Continuation—the continuation of God's ancient promise to bless all nations through Abraham's seed.
Jesus declares: "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age" (Matt. 28:18-20).
All Authority: The Foundation of Mission
Jesus begins with πᾶσα ἐξουσία (pasa exousia)—"all authority." The word πᾶς (pas, "all") appears four times in these three verses: all authority, all nations, all I commanded, all the days. This comprehensiveness matters. Jesus doesn't claim some authority or most authority but all authority—cosmic, complete, comprehensive sovereignty.
This directly fulfills Daniel 7:13-14, where "one like a son of man" receives from the Ancient of Days "dominion and glory and a kingdom, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him." The crucified Galilean carpenter now possesses universal sovereignty. Death could not hold Him. Hell could not contain Him. Heaven has exalted Him. Earth must bow before Him.
This is the foundation of mission. We don't go in our own authority, trying to convince people through clever arguments. We go in the authority of the risen King who has already won the victory. As D.A. Carson notes, the mission doesn't rest on human effort but on Christ's sovereign authority over every realm.
The Central Command: Make Disciples
Grammatically, μαθητεύσατε (mathēteusate)—"make disciples"—is the only imperative verb in the passage. The other verbs are participles that explain how to fulfill this central command. We make disciples by going, baptizing, and teaching.
But what is a disciple? The Greek μαθητής (mathētēs) means a learner, a student, a follower. But it's more than academic study. In the ancient world, disciples didn't just learn information from their masters; they learned a way of life. They watched, imitated, practiced, and gradually embodied their master's teaching and character.
Jesus isn't calling us to make converts who pray a prayer and then live however they want. He's calling us to make disciples who follow Him, learn from Him, obey Him, and become like Him. This is a lifelong process of transformation, not a momentary decision.
All Nations: The Abrahamic Fulfillment
The command to disciple πάντα τὰ ἔθνη (panta ta ethnē)—"all the nations"—directly fulfills God's promise to Abraham in Genesis 12:3: "In you all the families of the earth shall be blessed." The Greek ἔθνη (ethnē) parallels the Hebrew מִשְׁפָּחֹת (mishpachot, families/clans) in the Abrahamic promise.
Paul makes this connection explicit in Galatians 3:8: "And the Scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, preached the gospel beforehand to Abraham, saying, 'In you shall all the nations be blessed.'" Did you catch that? Paul says Genesis 12:3 is the gospel preached in advance!
Christopher Wright identifies five parallels between the Abrahamic commission and the Great Commission: both involve a "go" command, both assign a task (be a blessing/make disciples), both emphasize universal scope (all families/nations), both use ethnic terminology, and both guarantee divine presence.
The Great Commission isn't a new program. It's the activation of God's ancient promise. Jesus, the ultimate seed of Abraham, now commands His followers to extend covenant blessing to all peoples. The church doesn't replace Israel but represents believing Gentiles grafted into Abraham's covenant line (Rom. 11:17-24).
Baptizing: The Covenant Sign
The command to baptize "in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit" establishes baptism as the New Covenant sign replacing circumcision. Notice the singular "name" (ὄνομα, onoma) with three persons—this is Scripture's clearest expression of Trinitarian theology.
Colossians 2:11-12 explicitly connects circumcision and baptism: "In him you were also circumcised with a circumcision made without hands, by putting off the body of the flesh, by the circumcision of Christ, having been buried with him in baptism, in which you were also raised with him through faith."
The parallel is striking. Under the Old Covenant, circumcision marked entry into the covenant community. It was a bloody sign applied to males on the eighth day. Under the New Covenant, baptism marks entry into the covenant community. It's a water sign applied to all believers—male and female, Jew and Gentile—upon confession of faith.
Comprehensive Discipleship
The final participle, διδάσκοντες (didaskontes)—"teaching"—emphasizes ongoing instruction. We're to teach them τηρεῖν (tērein)—to observe, guard, keep—"all that I have commanded you." This is comprehensive discipleship, not selective obedience.
Notice the covenant pattern again. First comes relationship (making disciples), then comes the sign (baptizing), then comes instruction in covenant living (teaching). It mirrors Exodus: God delivers Israel, establishes covenant relationship, then reveals His law for their flourishing.
The Promise: Eternal Presence
Jesus concludes with a promise that should make your heart soar: "And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age." The Greek ἐγὼ μεθ' ὑμῶν εἰμι (egō meth' hymōn eimi) is emphatic—"I myself with you I am." It echoes God's covenant promise throughout Scripture: "I will be with you."
To Abraham: "Fear not, Abram, I am your shield" (Gen. 15:1). To Isaac: "I am the God of Abraham your father; fear not, for I am with you" (Gen. 26:24). To Jacob: "Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go" (Gen. 28:15). To Moses: "But I will be with you" (Ex. 3:12). To Joshua: "Just as I was with Moses, so I will be with you" (Josh. 1:5).
Now to us: "I am with you always, to the end of the age."
This isn't a vague spiritual sentiment. It's a covenant promise from the risen King. Charles Spurgeon called this "the great seal of the kingdom attached to it, giving the power to execute it, and guaranteeing its success."
Part IV: Covenant Community - Draw Near and Hold Fast (Hebrews 10:19-25)
Finally, let's examine how the writer of Hebrews calls us to live in light of New Covenant realities. After nine chapters establishing Christ's superior priesthood and sacrifice, he pivots to practical application:
"Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near" (Heb. 10:19-25).
Confidence Through Christ's Blood
The passage opens with a therefore that looks back at everything previously established. The word παρρησίαν (parrēsian)—"confidence"—originally described the freedom of speech that Athenian citizens enjoyed. They could speak boldly in the public assembly. Here it describes the boldness with which believers can approach God.
For Jewish readers, this would have been revolutionary. Under the Old Covenant, only the high priest could enter the Holy of Holies, only once a year on Yom Kippur, and only with blood and fear. The veil separating the Holy of Holies—reportedly four inches thick—symbolized the separation between holy God and sinful humanity.
But now? We have confidence to enter! Why? "By the blood of Jesus." Not our merit, not our righteousness, not our religious performance, but the blood of Jesus gives us access. Horatius Bonar proclaimed: "The blood of Jesus! The blood of the Lamb! Oh think what it means. God gave it for your redemption. God accepted it when His Son entered heaven and presented it on your behalf."
The New and Living Way
The way is described as πρόσφατον καὶ ζῶσαν (prosphaton kai zōsan)—"new and living." The word πρόσφατον appears only here in the New Testament. It literally means "freshly slaughtered" or "newly killed." Though Christ died two thousand years ago, His sacrifice remains eternally fresh, perpetually effective.
But paradoxically, this way is also "living." How can something be both freshly killed and living? The resurrection! Unlike Old Testament sacrifices that remained dead, Jesus died and rose again. The way is living because it leads to the living Christ.
The path goes "through the curtain, that is, through his flesh." When Jesus died, the temple veil tore from top to bottom (Matt. 27:51)—God's action, not man's. As Spurgeon preached: "The veil was not rolled up, but rent. The divine hand took it and rent it from top to bottom. It can never be hung up again."
A Great Priest Over God's House
We have not only access but an advocate—"a great priest over the house of God." The phrase ἱερέα μέγαν (hierea megan) refers to the high priest, but One infinitely greater than Aaron or his descendants.
The contrasts with the Old Covenant priesthood are stunning. They were many; He is one. They died; He lives forever. They offered repeated sacrifices; He offered Himself once. They served in an earthly copy; He ministers in heaven itself. They entered with fear; He stands with confidence.
Three Exhortations for Covenant Living
The passage presents three "let us" statements, corresponding to faith, hope, and love:
First, "Let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith" (v. 22). The verb προσερχώμεθα (proserchōmetha) means to approach, to come near. Under the Old Covenant, coming near to God was dangerous. Remember Uzzah touching the ark? Dead instantly. But now we're invited—commanded—to draw near.
Second, "Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering" (v. 23). The verb κατέχωμεν (katechōmen) means to grip tightly, to hold onto firmly. Our hope isn't wishful thinking but confident expectation based on God's character: "for he who promised is faithful."
Third, "Let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works" (v. 24). The verb κατανοῶμεν (katanoōmen) means to observe carefully, to think deliberately about. This requires intentionality. The Greek παροξυσμὸν (paroxysmon)—usually negative (provocation)—here is positive. We should provoke one another toward love and good deeds.
The Danger of Isolation
Verse 25 adds urgency: "not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some." The Greek ἐγκαταλείποντες (enkataleípontes) means to abandon, forsake, desert. Some early Christians had already developed the habit of skipping corporate worship.
But covenant life can't be lived in isolation. Leon Morris observes: "Any early Christian who attempted to live like a pious particle without the support of the community ran serious risks in an age when there was no public opinion to support him."
Corporate gathering serves multiple purposes: mutual encouragement when we might grow complacent, accountability when we might drift into sin, testimony to the world of gospel unity, and preparation for Christ's return—"as you see the Day drawing near."
Living It Out
So what does all this mean for your life tomorrow morning?
Your Identity Changes Everything
You wake up tomorrow not as an isolated individual trying to earn God's favor but as part of a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation. Your primary identity isn't your job title, your relationship status, or your bank balance. You are God's treasured possession, bought with blood, marked by the Spirit, destined for glory.
This means your life has eternal significance. That spreadsheet you're working on? Priestly service. That difficult colleague? Someone who needs to encounter God through His priest—you. That ethical compromise your boss is pressuring you to make? A chance to show that you belong to a different kingdom with different values.
Karen Jobes notes: "First Peter challenges Christians to reexamine our acceptance of society's norms and to be willing to suffer the alienation of being a visiting foreigner in our own culture wherever its values conflict with those of Christ."
Your Worship Encompasses Everything
Romans 12:1-2 demolishes the sacred-secular divide. There is no secular for the Christian—everything is sacred because everything can be offered to God as worship.
Your commute becomes a prayer chapel. Your workspace becomes a sanctuary. Your home becomes a temple. Not in some mystical, super-spiritual sense, but in the very real sense that Christ is present with you and you're offering your life to Him moment by moment.
This doesn't mean you have to listen to worship music while you work (though you can). It means you work with excellence because you're working for the Lord (Col. 3:23). You treat people with dignity because they bear God's image. You maintain integrity because you represent a holy God. You pursue excellence because you serve an excellent King.
As William Tyndale discovered translating the Bible, a plowboy serving God in his field could worship as truly as a priest serving at the altar. Brother Lawrence found God's presence as powerfully washing dishes as saying prayers. You can practice God's presence in the boardroom, the classroom, the break room.
Your Mission is Non-Negotiable
The Great Commission isn't the Great Suggestion. It's not for the super-spiritual or the professionally religious. If you're in covenant with God through Christ, you're commissioned to make disciples.
Now, this doesn't mean everyone becomes a foreign missionary or a street preacher. The body has many parts with different functions. But everyone participates in the mission somehow.
Some are sent ones—called to cross cultures, learn languages, plant churches. If that's you, go! The harvest is plentiful, the laborers are few.
Others are sending ones—called to earn money that funds missionaries, to pray faithfully for unreached peoples, to encourage and support those who go. Don't minimize this role. William Carey couldn't have gone to India without Andrew Fuller holding the rope back home.
Most are local witnesses—called to make disciples in their Jerusalem before going to Judea, Samaria, or the ends of the earth. Who are the people God has placed in your life who don't know Jesus? Your neighbors, colleagues, classmates, teammates? You're their priest, their missionary, their link to the gospel.
J.D. Greear puts it bluntly: "The Great Commission is not a calling for some; it is a mandate for all."
Your Community is Essential
Hebrews 10:24-25 makes clear that covenant life can't be lived in isolation. You need the church, and the church needs you. This is not optional. The text warns that neglecting corporate gathering is the first step toward apostasy.
But this is more than just showing up on Sunday. It's about authentic community where you know and are known, where you confess sins and receive grace, where you bear burdens and share joys, where you sharpen and are sharpened.
The New Testament contains fifty-nine "one another" commands. Love one another. Encourage one another. Bear one another's burdens. Confess to one another. Pray for one another. You can't obey these commands by yourself. They require committed community.
This challenges our consumer approach to church. We're not customers looking for the best religious goods and services. We're family members committed to one another's growth and God's glory. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, "The person who loves their dream of community will destroy community, but the person who loves those around them will create community."
The Already and Not Yet
As we live out our covenant calling, we need to remember that we exist in tension between two ages. The New Covenant has been inaugurated but not consummated. We have incredible privileges now, but the best is yet to come.
What we have now is extraordinary: complete forgiveness with sins remembered no more, new hearts with God's law written within, the Holy Spirit dwelling in us and empowering transformation, direct access to God through Christ's blood, priestly status with royal authority, covenant identity as God's treasured people, and a mission to bless all nations.
But we're still waiting for more: complete transformation when we see Christ face to face, perfect knowledge when we know as we're known, physical resurrection in glorified bodies, new heavens and new earth where righteousness dwells, and the fullness of God's presence when He makes His dwelling with humanity.
This tension explains why the Christian life is simultaneously glorious and difficult. We have resurrection power, but we still struggle with sin. We have God's Spirit, but we still battle the flesh. We have heavenly citizenship, but we still sojourn on earth.
The key is to live in hope without losing heart. To press forward without perfectionism. To expect God's power while accepting our weakness. To pursue holiness while resting in grace.
The Covenant Life Awaits
A few years ago, I met an elderly woman named Ruth who had been a Christian for over sixty years. She never went to seminary, never preached a sermon, never wrote a book. And by the world's standards, her life was unremarkable. She worked as a secretary, raised three kids, cared for her husband through Alzheimer's, and attended the same church for decades.
But when you talked to Ruth, you encountered royalty. She knew who she was: a priest of the Most High God. She approached her secretarial work as sacred service, praying for her boss and colleagues daily. She raised her children as disciples, teaching them God's Word around the dinner table. She cared for her husband as an act of worship, seeing Christ in his confused eyes. She served her church not for recognition but from gratitude.
Ruth understood something that many of us miss: life isn't about doing extraordinary things but about doing ordinary things with extraordinary love, purpose, and presence. It's about knowing who you are in Christ and living from that identity. It's about offering your whole life as worship. It's about participating in God's mission to bless all nations. It's about doing life together with God's people.
You see, for ten weeks (well, eleven now) we've traced God's covenant faithfulness through history. We've seen Him make promises and keep them, establish relationships and maintain them, call a people and preserve them. But all of that theology becomes biography when you realize you're part of the story. You're not reading about God's covenant people; you are God's covenant people.
Tomorrow morning when your alarm goes off, you won't wake up as a random individual trying to make it through another day. You'll wake up as a priest of the living God, a member of a royal family, a participant in a holy nation, God's treasured possession. Your day won't be a series of meaningless tasks but opportunities for worship. Your interactions won't be chance encounters but divine appointments. Your struggles won't be pointless suffering but covenant faithfulness in a fallen world.
This is what it means to live in covenant today. Not perfection but purpose. Not isolation but community. Not drudgery but worship. Not wandering but mission.
Next week, we'll conclude our series by looking at where all this is heading - the consummation of God's covenant promises in the new creation. We'll see how our faithfulness today prepares us for our eternal priesthood tomorrow. We'll discover how the struggles of journeying through this world lead to the glory of homecoming.
But for now, for today, for this week, remember who you are. And who are you? Well, you are chosen, royal, holy, and treasured. You are bought with blood, sealed by the Spirit, called to glory. You are a living sacrifice, a transformed mind, a renewed heart. You are a disciple-maker, a nation-blesser, a covenant-keeper. You are never alone because the risen Christ has promised, "I am with you always, to the end of the age."
So go. Live your covenant identity. Offer your covenant worship. Fulfill your covenant mission. Participate in your covenant community. Not in your own strength but in the power of the One who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light. Because the covenant life awaits. And it starts the moment you say yes to living as who God declares you to be: His covenant people, called to display His glory in a watching world.
Until next week, grace and peace to you, covenant family. Live like you believe it.
