Suppose that just before Jesus ascended—as He envisions His Church and the harvest prior to His return—He foresees a falling away. His soul is grieved, because He sees rampant backsliding. Instead of reaping a white harvest, His people spend their time and energy seeking worldly success and material things.
So Jesus says to the Father, “They won’t get the harvest in. All the white fields lie dormant. I’m going to send a host of angels to do the reaping.” The Father agrees, and suddenly thousands of celestial beings appear on the earth, glowing with supernatural radiance.
What a sight this would be: otherworldly beings, clothed in glory, speaking in churches and in public. They are interviewed by newspaper reporters, and on radio and TV. They talk of the cross, the resurrection, the ascension, Christ’s love, and a final judgment to come. And they speak with such eloquence and conviction that everyone is enthralled. They’re like so many Jonahs, wooing and warning the world.
Now suppose that after a short time, these same radiant angels become enthralled with the world around them. They are taken in by fine foods, material goods, wealth and security. And soon they start striving for success, fame and fortune. Before long, they become jealous of each other, showing anger, pride, envy and covetousness.
In other words, they become just like the Church today! I ask you, how much influence would they have on the world? How could they expect to bring in a harvest, being so caught up in worldliness? Their testimony would be discounted and they would be drained of all spiritual power, going about discouraged, fearful and doubting.
Tell me, why would anyone want my gospel if they saw me in this state, stressed out and joyless? Why would they believe my message, “Jesus is sufficient, my everything, my constant supply,” if I am always fearful and worried, with no peace?
No one would listen to a word I said. Instead, they would wonder, “What difference does your Christ make? He doesn’t seem to be much of a physician if you’re always in this condition.”
Beloved, our countenance counts. Listen to what Christ says of His Bride in the Song of Solomon: “O my dove . . . let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely” (Song of Solomon 2:14). Christ is saying to us, in essence, “I want to see your smile.” Does that describe your countenance?