Living Between Times

The return of Jesus isn’t an abstract doctrine reserved for speculative debate or color-coded theological charts. In the Bible, the second coming influences the daily life and habits of the believer. It shapes how the church waits, how Christians endure hardship, and how they understand this present and passing age.

This theme is at the heart of Paul’s letters to the church in Thessalonica. The electing purpose of God had come to fruition among them through the preaching of the gospel causing them to “wait for His Son from heaven” (1 Thess. 1:10). Practically and pastorally, the Apostle writes to inform and encourage the Thessalonians for living between the times — the in-between time after Christ’s resurrection and before his return.

What does an in-between life look like in reality? Paul acknowledges a question the Thessalonians, like Christian throughout history, have asked: when will Jesus return? His response is surprisingly restrained. “But concerning the times and the seasons, brethren, you have no need that I should write to you” (5:1).

That’s not a dismissive answer, but pastoral wisdom. Scripture teaches that there’s limits to what God has revealed. There are secret things that belong to the Lord alone, and the timing of Christ’s return is one of them. Knowing times and seasons contribute nothing to faith and life. If it did, God would have revealed it to us (see 2 Tim. 3:16-17).

Rather, Paul’s answer is far more deliberate and ethical. As those living between resurrection and return we need to be awake, sober, and armed.

A Day That Comes Suddenly and Surely
Echoing Jesus’ words, the apostolic description of the Day of the Lord is almost unnerving. It will come “like a thief in the night” (5:2). The image emphasizes surprise. A thief doesn’t announce his arrival or consult the homeowner’s calendar. He comes unexpectedly, and most often when alertness has decreased and safety is assumed.

Paul reinforces this with a second image: “When they say, ‘Peace and safety!’ then sudden destruction comes upon them, as labor pains upon a pregnant woman. And they shall not escape.” The world’s sense of safety becomes the very context in which judgment arrives. Life continues as normal. People eat and drink, marry and work, plan and build — not necessarily in overt rebellion, but in practical indifference to God. There’s no expectation of interruption, no sense that today could be the final day. But like labor pains, it can start unexpectedly but once it begins, it’s unavoidable. It cannot be postponed. The Day of the Lord will surprise many, but it will not be delayed or avoided.

Awake and Not Asleep
Against this backdrop, Paul draws a stark contrast. There’s those who belong to the night and those who belong to the day. This is a spiritual distinction rooted in one’s relationship to Christ.

Those who belong to the night live in darkness — not merely moral darkness, but spiritual dullness. They do what we do at night: sleep. They are asleep to the realities of judgment and eternity. They live as though this world is all there is. Their confidence rests in the stability of the present moment.

By contrast, believers are called “children of the light.” This identity isn’t achieved by effort; it’s granted by the grace of him who said, “I am the light of the world. He who follows Me shall not walk in darkness, but have the light of life” (Jn. 8:12). And it’s an identity with implications. Those who belong to the day are not overtaken by the Day of the Lord like a thief. Not because they know its timing, but because they’re awake and live constantly in a state of readiness. This distinction leads to Paul’s exhortation: “Therefore let us not sleep, as others do, but let us watch and be sober.”

Spiritual wakefulness is an attentiveness to reality as God defines it. It’s living with an awareness that Christ will return. It resits the numbing effects of routine, distraction, and complacency. To sleep spiritually is to live carelessly; to be awake is to live consciously before God.

Sober Not Indulged

Sobriety is another distinguishing mark of the believer rightly living between the times. This isn’t merely a warning against drunkenness. Sobriety names a broader spiritual posture — a life marked by self-control, restraint, and calmness. It’s the grace-given ability to govern oneself in a world that is increasingly uncontrolled and uncontrollable. Drunkenness represents the opposite. A life dulled by excess, distraction, and impulse, where judgment is clouded.

Like wakefulness, sobriety is inseparable from Christian identity. “For those who sleep, sleep at night, and those who get drunk are drunk at night. But let us who are of the day be sober.” In a day that constantly invites excess, sobriety is an act of obedience. It’s resistance to being carried along by appetite, reaction, or the spirit of the age. Together, wakefulness and sobriety describe a steady, disciplined Christian life. Living deliberately before God, governed not by impulse but by the truth, and a calm watchful faithfulness shaped by the certainty that Christ is coming again.

Armed Not Exposed

Living this way inevitably brings conflict. The contrast between light and darkness — day and night — is confrontational. When faithfulness to God exposes the complacency and excess of those in darkness, opposition follows. Obedience provokes hostility. There can be no peaceful coexistence with children of the night. The time between resurrection and return is a period of warfare.

Paul’s imagery makes this plain: “But let us who are of the day be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and love, and as a helmet the hope of salvation.” Yet this imagery may be surprising. Paul doesn’t portray the Christian as aggressors storming the enemy lines. The focus isn’t on offense, but on defense. This is intentional. Before a solider learns how to strike, he must know how to stand. The call isn’t to seek out conflict, but to be prepared for it.

There are two pieces to this armor. The Christian soldier wears a breastplate and helmet — pieces designed to protect what is most vital. The breastplate guards the heart, and the helmet guards the head. Together, they signify the protection of the whole man: affections and thoughts, loves, and convictions.

This armor is described by the three great Christian virtues: faith, love, and hope.

Faith and love form the breastplate. Faith is a sincere trust in who God is and what he has said. It takes God at his word — his promises, his commands, and his warnings. In the heat of battle, faith refuses to give up this ground.



Love complements faith by orienting the heart toward God and neighbor. A heart filled with love is not easily hardened by bitterness, fear, or resentment. Love guards the affections from being overtaken by the very hostility the believer faces.

The helmet is the hope of salvation. Hope guards the mind. It anchors the believer in the certainty of what God has accomplished in Christ and what he will yet bring to completion. Hope steadies the Christian in the present by fixing the mind on a promised future.

Together, faith, love, and hope provide a comprehensive defense. They do not remove the battle, but they make perseverance possible. Lacking these virtues leaves one entirely exposed in the day of adversity.

Living awake, sober, and armed characterizes the Christian life in these times. This doesn’t change in the ups and downs of culture or in the shifting of society. It’s the posture we are to have as we serve God and wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, Jesus who delivers us from the wrath to come.