Citizens of heaven
The pilgrim never unpacks
Paul reminds the Philippians of where they truly belong: our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we eagerly await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. Philippi was a Roman colony, full of people who held Roman citizenship though they lived far from Rome — they belonged to a homeland elsewhere, and lived as its representatives in a foreign place. Paul says that is exactly what Christians are: citizens of heaven, living as resident aliens on earth.
This reframes our whole relationship to this world. We are not finally at home here; our true homeland, our citizenship, our deepest belonging, is in heaven, where Christ is. We live here as pilgrims and colonists of another country, representing our true home, awaiting the day we go there or our King comes here. The pilgrim, knowing the journey is not over, never fully unpacks.
This is not escapism or detachment from the world, but a healthy holding-loosely. Because our citizenship is in heaven, we are free from making this world our everything, free from the desperate grasping of those who have no other home. We invest in this life and love this world, but we hold it with open hands, knowing we belong elsewhere and are heading home. Are you living as a settled citizen of this world, or as a pilgrim whose true citizenship is in heaven?
“For our citizenship is in heaven, from where we also wait for a Savior, the Lord, Jesus Christ.”
— Paul, to the Philippians — Philippians 3:20 (WEB)
Live as a citizen of heaven and a pilgrim on earth — holding this world with open hands, belonging finally elsewhere, awaiting your Savior from there.
“Who will change the body of our humiliation to be conformed to the body of his glory.”
The trouble is not loving this world but forgetting we are colonists in it, slowly mistaking the outpost for the homeland until our grip closes hard around what was only ever a borrowed place. The interior work is to recover our citizenship in heaven — to live as those who represent another country here — for that one truth loosens the desperate clutch of people with nowhere else to belong, and frees us to hold this whole life with open hands.
This week, live as a pilgrim who never fully unpacks: hold some part of this world more loosely — a possession, an ambition, a comfort — remembering your citizenship is in heaven, and invest in this life while belonging finally elsewhere.
The world flatters us into settling, into driving down roots as though this were the final address, until we love it with the panic of those who have no other home. But a pilgrim whose true citizenship is elsewhere cannot be enslaved by the grasping, and holds even his dearest things lightly, already half on the road.
Paul reminds believers, who can grow far too settled here, that our citizenship is in heaven. Like the Romans living in the colony of Philippi, who belonged to a homeland far away and lived as its representatives, Christians belong to heaven and live on earth as resident aliens. Our true home, our deepest belonging, is where Christ is — and the pilgrim, knowing the journey is not over, never fully unpacks.
This is not escapism but a healthy holding-loosely. Because our citizenship is elsewhere, we are freed from making this world our everything, free from the desperate grasping of those who have no other home. We can invest in this life and genuinely love this world while holding it with open hands, knowing we belong to another country and are heading home. The danger is to forget this and settle in as permanent residents, grasping at a world that was never our final home. Are you living as a settled citizen of this world, or as a pilgrim whose true citizenship is in heaven?
- Am I living as a settled citizen of this world, or a pilgrim?
- Do I grasp this world as my final home, or hold it with open hands?
- What would change if I lived as a citizen of heaven?
Lord, I settle in here as a permanent resident, grasping this world as my final home. But my citizenship is in heaven, and I await my Savior from there. Help me live as a pilgrim who never fully unpacks, holding this world with open hands, belonging finally to you. Amen.