Faith and the Fear of Death

This morning, after a couple of weeks away, I got back to reading Hebrews. The Epistle to the Hebrews, that is. I started from the beginning, just to reacquaint myself with the early chapters, and was arrested by this passage:

Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery. For surely it is not angels that he helps, but he helps the offspring of Abraham. Therefore he had to be made like his brothers in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people. For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted. (Hebrews 2:14-18 ESV)

I want to take note of a few things here.

1. Fear of death and sin are connected.
2. All who are mortal (bound to die) live in fear of death.
3. This fear amounts to a kind of slavery.

The human condition, I suppose.  But God in Christ enacted a plan, conceived before time, to release men and women from this fear and, thus, this slavery.  Christ is the key that releases us from the shackles of slavery to fear and death and utter helplessness with regard to temptation.  The life of freedom from fear that results, for those who believe, is elsewhere in the New Testament called "new life," or life "in Christ."

Question: why then do we still live in fear of death?

Here's an observation that may hold a clue to the answer.  Our conception of faith, here in the LaLa-land that is American Christianity, is deeply skewed.  I would describe it this way: faith is understood as the confidence that the things we desire will be given to us, and soon.  We may rhetorically attribute this confidence to Jesus, but in truth it has nothing to do with him, and is far from the New Testament conception of faith.  

Nothing puts the damper on this kind of desire-centered faith more quickly than the fact of ensuing death.  If what we desire most is to avoid dying, then death will trump faith every time.

Another question: seeing as how Jesus has defeated death, why then do we not spend more time and ministry preparing ourselves and others for dying well and in peace, rather than acting as if, right up to the very end, all we really need to do is pray harder for a miracle (and then of course believe God will grant it).

Story: there's a new couple in the church.  The husband has ALS (Lou Gerhig's Disease).  It has advanced far enough now that he can no longer speak clearly, and the wife must speak for him.  They're desperate.  The medical diagnosis is utterly hopeless (that is if you define "hopeful" as the possibility of not dying from ALS).  What they need is a miracle, and so they have come to church to find one.  They go forward for prayer at the end of the sermon.  A prayer-warrior listens empathetically and quickly prays for just that: a miraculous healing.  Then he says encouragingly, "I'm believing for a miracle!"

But doesn't there come a time, sooner or later, when we must see our dying at last as inevitable.  I am not suggesting that we not pray for miracles, but I am suggesting  that our prayers for miracles may reveal more about our fear than about our faith.

The author of Hebrews says that death holds sway over us, enslaves us, and that it is at the root of our helplessness with regard to temptation.   Our fear of death shapes our desires, and our lives--even our lives of faith--become consumed by the pursuit of these desires.  And the one desire we pursue most avidly, and yet with the least hope of satisfaction, is the desire not to die.  The tragedy is that we import this attitude into our faith. In fact, we make our faith serve our fear!  The rags of the old man still cling to the new.  Our faith turns out to be nothing more than desperate and worldly (flesh-derived, flesh-oriented) optimism.

My ultimate point here is that we should spend some time on this, we Christians.  Should the fear of death so control us that it even shapes our understanding of faith?  Did it control Paul (see Philippians 1)?  Shouldn't our preaching and teaching contain a prominent component concerning the Biblical attitude toward death?  Where is the wisdom in avoiding this topic?  And shouldn't our church ministries include, prominently, a ministry to the dying that is something more than simply believing earnestly that God will not allow their death?

Sadly, with regard to the subject of death and dying, we are deeply influenced by the flesh, and not by the Word of God.

The Things that Belong to Salvation

At Hebrews 6:9 the author uses the phrase "things that belong to salvation."

I love that phrase, and am intrigued by that phrase, and am just a little troubled by that phrase. What are the things that belong to salvation?

As the author of Hebrews makes clear in the early stages of the letter, the little matter of who Christ is--what he has done, and what he is doing--spells salvation for troubled men and women in this troubled world. Death's dominion is from now on illusory. Christ has shattered its grip, and in so doing he has provided for all the opportunity to draw near to the throne of mercy and grace.

This is the key phrase of Hebrews: "draw near to the throne of grace." Why? Because, it is assumed, you're gonna need mercy and grace. You're gonna need it bad.

And the right things have happened, the right person has won the key battle and the right high priest now serves forever on our behalf, so that the multi-faceted  gift of mercy and grace is now available to God's needy children.

That's the gist of Hebrews so far. Draw near. To draw near is to enter into the spiritual rest and freedom from fear that is God's provision for his troubled people.

Then, in chapter 6, the author uses this phrase that has been haunting me for the last few days:

"things that belong to salvation."

I would suggest that "the things that belong to salvation" refers to the things that characterize, to one degree or another, the lives of those who have been saved. That is, those who have trusted Jesus' good news and so drawn near to the throne of grace.

I'm going to cherry-pick a couple things from this part of Hebrews (chapters 5 to 7) that might qualify for the list:

1. the power of discernment to distinguish good from evil (5:14)
2. love and service in God's name (6:10)
3. a taste of the power of the age to come (6:5)

If you think about it, that little list sums up a lot of the promises that God has made to his people. Even in the midst of our troubles--especially in the midst of trouble--God will equip us with these things. But it's worth noting that this is a corporate promise, or a promise to a body of believers, and thus is experienced most fully among believers who are sharing their lives with one another.

In other words, the things that belong to salvation belong to life together.

Cat Stevens Joins the Conversation

I'm thinking about Hebrews 4:16 this morning, and for some reason it put me in mind of this old song from Cat Stevens:



I love Cat.

My Faith Walk . . . for now

It's Sunday morning, and a part of me is thinking about church. A big part of me. Not that I'm actually longing to find a church. Not that I'm actually hoping to routinely atend a big fancy auditorium where we all sit in rows and listen to some guy I don't know talk for 45 minutes. Every Sunday. No, but it is Sunday after all, and for eighteen years or so that meant a visit to the fancy auditorium, and sitting in rows, etc.

Someone asked me last week why I wasn't "going to church." I gave my shorthand answer. I said, "I'm looking for a church that's at least as Jesusy as the New Testament."

All this is apropos of The Letter to the Hebrews. I've been reading it now for a coupla-three weeks (that's Maine-speak, people). That "letter" is generally believed to be the text of a sermon. The ESV Study Bible says this:

The genre of Hebrews is unusual. The book is without an introduction or other early indications that it is a letter. Yet the final verses do pass on greetings and blessings (13:23–25), and the author speaks of having “written to you” (13:22). However, the author also identifies his work as a “word of exhortation” (13:22). The careful rhetorical progression of the book, along with its frequent practical exhortations, has led many to consider it a single sermon. Perhaps Hebrews is best understood as a sermonic letter.

But the point is, every sip of this rich brew is intensely Jesusy. Intensely Jesusy. Sip it yourself and see. The trick then is to find that same flavor in the church today. It just shouldn't be as rare as it seems to be. Know what I'm sayin'?

But back to not being in church and all that. It's not that I'm satisfied with my current lone-wolfism. Another person I talked to not long ago asked me what church I was attending these days, and when I told him I wasn't, answered rather imperiously, "May I direct your attention to Hebrews 10:25?" That's the part that says don't neglect meeting together and encouraging one another. Yup, I sure want that one another thing. But if church on Sunday morning is the best we can do, we're in trouble. On the other hand, I want to hang with fellow-believers and be knit together with them. I want a band of brothers, a tribe, a family. Well, what I really want is what Bonhoeffer described in Life Together. And I'm pretty unconvinced that collecting up a bunch of people from across the region to come together in an auditorium once a week to listen to some music and a speech (lesson, sermon, exhortation) by a guy we don't really know and then going our separate ways for the rest of the week is ever going to be the venue for life together. I've just about given up on that.

Michael Spencer in Mere Churchianity said there were many like me. Ian Michael Cron wonders if it's a new Christian diaspora. The conversation in the comments section of that post is very interesting too.

The danger for all of us, whether in the church or in "exile," is that we find ourselves one day having put our faith in many things, but not in Jesus. This is always the danger. Idols. Idols of the heart. Idols of the mind. And "proud towers" to house them in. And Jesus once again standing outside, knocking. Laodicea all over again (Rev 3:14-22).

[BTW, Glynn Young has collected some links to similar discussions here. Note also this post from at Public Christianity.]

The Power of an Indestructible Life

My friend and fellow-blogger Abraham makes a good point in his recent post. Things are not as they seem.Quoting the great songwriter Mark Heard:

“We can laugh and we can cry
And never see the strong hand of love hidden in the shadows
We can dance and we can sigh
And never see the strong hand of love hidden in the shadows.”

~ Mark Heard, Strong Hand of Love

This is a rather strong theme in the Bible. I'm thinking of Paul's words in Colossians:

If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory. (Colossians 3:1-4 ESV)

See that? Your life is hidden with Christ in God! Things are not as they seem. Indestructible Jesus is our guarantee of this (Heb 7:16, 7:22). In some crazy indecipherable way, my life is hidden with Jesus in God. Not this visible, apparent so-called life, but the life that is a part of God's ultimate purpose for his creation. I do not see it yet. And yet, even now it springs up! (Isaiah 43:19)

This is of course a matter of faith. Un-faith says, "No, things are always exactly what they seem, and always will be so. Be realistic!" But faith speaks of an alternative reality.

Things are not as they seem. I am not what I seem. And you, yes you, are not what you seem. Something is going on behind the scenes, something is stirring, something is coming to pass. Remember Isaiah:

For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? (Isaiah 43:19 NLT)

It takes eyes of faith to see the hidden things. My life is hidden with Christ in God, Paul says, and the author of Hebrews (yes, we are back to Hebrews now) speaks also of the hiddenness of Christ with God. Christ has gone into the inner place, the place where only the high priest can go. Christ is that high priest, forever, and the "inner place" is the presence of God. Where, according to the testimony of the Scriptures, Christ sits at God's right hand, in the place of privilege and honor and intimacy. He's an anchor to our soul there. We're permanently connected, through him. Through him, we can "draw near." Without the anchor, we're going to be blown out to sea or shattered on some rocky coast. As it is we're buffeted, we're tossed about, but praise be to God, we're anchored. Things are not as they seem.

We have to remember this. That's my advice. Remember. Don't make assumptions. Don't judge, because when you judge, you're presuming you know how things are, the whole story, how everything turns out for the other person, and therefore you can pass judgement, you can call the winner the winner, the loser the loser. It's a terrible failure to hope! It's a terrible failure of faith.

All week I've been reading through chapters 5 to 7 of Hebrews. And this is what it's got me thinking on. Things are not as they seem. But that is not to say that it is not possible now to taste of "the powers of the age to come" (Heb 6:5). It is. Nevertheless, the age to come is "to come." It is not here, it is not now. Still, there was one who walked among us, one who set aside power and privilege--making himself nothing--one who died among us, who conquered death here in the very stronghold of death, and then entered into the inner place, the Holy Sanctuary where God is. That would be Jesus. The anchor of our buffeted souls. Through him, who is possessor of an indestructible life, God is bringing to pass his unchangeable purpose.

Key words: indestructible, unchangeable, anchor, hope.

Things are not as they seem. Death seem to reign. It does not. It's power has been broken. The dawn is coming. Do you not see it? Even now it springs up!

So Great a Jesus: A Summary of the First Four Chapters of Hebrews

[I always feel I have to explain these posts on the Letter to the Hebrews. My way of reading Scripture is to read and reread a passage, and then re-state it in various ways. I am a firm believer in this re-stating of Scripture. I do this for myself, primarily, as a way of imbibing these truths of God more deeply. It involves much repetition, and much going over of familiar ground, so I can understand why it may not necessarily be all that enlightening for others. Still, I put the process on display here at WF, just in case someone might be helped by it. What follows is simply a summary in my own words of the first four chapters.]

God has spoken to us through his Son. He has done this through what his Son taught, and through how his Son lived; in other words, through everything his Son said and did. The "message" of the Gospel, the good news for a fear-burdened people facing death on all sides, is just this: all that God's Son, Jesus, said and did. We must pay closer attention.

Remember the Israelites. They followed Moses, who spoke for God, in search of the promised land. But often their trust ran out. Their trust ran out by the side of the Red Sea, with Pharoah's army bearing down. their trust ran out in the desert, where they feared starvation. Their trust ran out even at the brink of the promised land, when they heard the stories about "giants in the land." In all these cases their fear of death conquered their trust in God, despite his many miraculous interventions on their behalf.

The author of Hebrews put is this way: he says their fear of death caused them to harden their hearts. Hardening their hearts equates to not trusting God and therefore not listening to God and therefore disobeying God (even despite all that He's done and all that He's promised). This fear of death causes them to harden their hearts, not hear the message of God, and "fall away" from the calling to which they have been called. Which is to say, their destiny of rest.

The people of God always face this same problem. The fear of death causing unrest, leading them away from their promised land destiny, and leading instead to all kinds of restlessness. What comes of this are things like bitterness, loneliness, anxiety, harshness, frenzy, and an ever deepening and devastating hardness of heart.

Therefore, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion.

A lot depends, therefore, on paying attention to the message spoken to us by one greater than Moses, through signs greater even than those witnessed by the Israelites in the desert. Pay attention to this message. Lean on it. Live in it. The message is a promise of rest, through Jesus.

We share in a heavenly calling, but we walk through a desert. There will always be the temptation not to trust God, but to lean instead on some frail reed. Fortunately, Jesus, whose very name is salvation, and who was tempted in every way, and having won every battle and defeated death, is able to help us when we, through fear of death, are tempted. He is our hope. He is our rest.

All of God's promises are summed up in Jesus, our rest. Rest is associated with fulfillment, but even though we do not see the fulfillment of all God's promises just yet, we can have a foretaste of all that the Kingdom of God shall be, and "rest" is as good a word for that as any. Therefore,

Today, of you hear his voice [that is, the message of Jesus: all that he taught and all that he did], do not harden your hearts.

In other words, listen. Pay attention. See. Hear. Taste. Stand in awe.

Finally, a warning. "The word of God is living and active." Think of this phrase, "word of God," as a kind of stand-in for God all that God is and all that he does. The ESV Study Bible note puts it this way:

Usually this phrase in Hebrews refers to the message of salvation (13:7; cf. 4:2), but here the “word” is pictured as God's personal utterance, living, active, sharp, piercing, and discerning (v. 12), with eyes that expose (v. 13). The Word of God then acts as God himself, so that one's innermost thoughts and intentions are exposed. This happens constantly in Christians' lives.

Do not harden your hearts, as if to fend off the piercing and discerning action of God. This surgery won't kill you. Better yet, pay closer attention to all that He has been for you, all that He is for you, all that He shall be for you. His name is Yeshua, which means "salvation." Do not neglect so great a salvation.

This is our God . . .

So I'm still processing the early chapters of Hebrews. To tell you the truth, reading and rereading these chapters has been like giving my faith a shot of adrenalin. I think I'm experiencing a little personal revival here!

I've been saying in my series of posts on church visits that I'm just looking for something "Jesusy." Admittedly, I stole that term from Jared Wilson (at least I think that's who I stole it from). Anyway, it's a term of convenience. If you want to see an example of preaching that is Jesusy, read Hebrews for one. The author always explicitly ties his imperatives (what we should do) to our understanding of who Jesus is and what he has done, and later, as we shall see, to "drawing near" to him in faith. The author is wearing Jesus-colored glasses. His exhortations are anchored in the revelation of Jesus Christ.

So what I'm going to do now, for my own good as well as yours (I hope), is list out what the author says about Jesus (all in the first two chapters), and then, in a separate list, seven imperatives (some plainly stated, some strongly implied, and all coming in the third chapter of the letter). So, first, what's all this talk about Jesus?

• God, who long ago spoke to us by the prophets of old, has now spoken to us by his Son, Jesus
• He appointed Jesus to be heir of all things (all creation)
• and in fact through Jesus he created all things
• Jesus is the radiance of the glory of God
• and the exact imprint of the Father's nature
• Jesus upholds the universe by the word of his power (!)
• He made purification for sin
• and sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high
• above all things, including even the angels, who worship him
• and reigns triumphantly with a scepter of righteousness
• making his enemies his footstool

All this is from chapter one.  This is what the writer is talking about when he says, at the start of chapter two, that we should all pay much closer attention to what we have heard (this grand and high message about Jesus), lest we drift away.  Not to pay close attention is to neglect our salvation, which no one should ever do.

But what does chapter two say about Jesus (for the author is not done emphasizing Jesus)?

• he is the founder of our salvation (the salvation we shouldn't "neglect")
• he was crowned with glory and honor because of his suffering and death
• in fact, he was made perfect through suffering
• tasting death for (in the place of) everyone (!)
• By doing so he thus brings many sons (and daughters) to glory

Note: the One who is crowned with glory brings many to share in that glory.  How?  By dying for them.

• Thus, he is not ashamed of us.  Not ashamed to call us brothers and sisters (!)
• he partook of mortality, sharing our flesh and blood existence
• so that by dying for us he might destroy the devil, who holds sway over us by the power of death, keeping us in constant subjection to the fear of death
• but he has freed us from that lifelong slavery
• all this that Jesus has done may be summed up in this word-picture: Jesus is our merciful high priest, making propitiation for our sin by the sacrifice of himself
• and now, from his throne on high, having suffered temptation as a man, he is able to help those who are tempted.  

Okay, all that is in chapter two.  There you have most of what the author of Hebrews says about Jesus in the first two chapters.  Amazing, no?  His shorthand term for all this is "salvation."  Elsewhere it is called "the good news."  I would say it is the playing out of the grand design of God to restore creation, which has been marred by sin, and to retrieve his lost children from the grip of death, at unfathomable expense to himself.  

Now, in chapter three I count at least seven distinct imperatives (whether stated or implied), that hinge on all this that has been said about Jesus.  Here they are:

• Therefore, we who share in a heavenly calling, should consider (set our minds on) Jesus (3:1)
• We should hold fast to our confidence, our boasting, our hope (in Him) (3:6)
• We should not harden our hearts (3:8)
• We should take care, lest there remain in our hearts elements of unbelief, leading us to fall away (3:12)
• Since sin is so deceitful, we need to exhort (encourage) one another every day (3:13)
• We should hold on to the confidence we placed in Jesus at the start, right to the very end (3:14)
• and finally, repeating a theme, we should not harden our hearts (3:15)

There you have, in list format, the first three chapters of Hebrews.  You can see that these foundational imperatives from chapter three, which in some fashion the rest of the letter will explicate, all have to do with hearts and minds.  Set your mind on Jesus, and don't let your hearts be hardened.  It seems that faithful walking begins (flows from) within.  But it all begins and ends with Jesus!

Consider Jesus

Reading and rereading the letter to the Hebrews in the New Testament. I want to emphasize that I'm not setting myself up as a teacher here. I'm just interacting with the text, as they say. In other words, reading it. Over and over. And reflecting here at WF what it's seeming to mean. Mixing in those thoughts and observations of my own that the text seems to inspire. You might find that interesting, or it might spur you on to read your own selected text in the same ruminative way (which can be productive), or you might consider it all a vast waste of time. But what I'm trying to say is, I'm not trying to teach here. I'm trying to show.

In the first couple of posts in this series I've been looking at Hebrews 2:1, which contains this imperative: "We must pay closer attention to what we've heard."

We have all experienced the way in which a message that we once found very moving, even "life changing," such as the message "I love you," a message that sounded like music to us once, can quite suddenly sound like dissonant clanging, or like nothing at all, like silence. Not because the message has changed, but because our hearing has changed. Our attentiveness or sensitivity. People begin to ask, "Are you listening?" And you answer, "Of course I'm listening." But you're not. It happens all the time.

This is the dire predicament we all find ourselves in, I think. Things seem to grow stale to our ears. To diminish. Some folks have put it this way: our hearts grow hard. It happened to the folks who followed Moses in the desert. It happened to the kings of ancient Israel. Throughout the four Gospels of the New Testament you can find people with hard hearts (who cannot seem to hear, like Pontius Pilate, or Judas) and people with soft hearts who seem to pay attention at the crucial moment (like the woman at the well). The author of the letter to the Hebrews seemed to pinpoint this problem and address it directly. He said, "We've got to pay closer attention to what we've heard." And then, in the passage that follows, occupying the rest of chapter 2, you get the meat of that message. you get the what in "what we have heard." Go to your dog-eared Bible and read it for yourself, and then come back here.

Are you back? Okay, as you now know, it's all about Jesus. Hebrews is a very Jesus-rich letter. Jesus, who is eternal, who is God, who created everything and to whom someday the whole world will be subjected. Him. Who made himself to share in flesh and blood mortality, so that in doing so he might bear the brunt of sin's penalty, and thereby usher us into his family, calling us brothers and sisters forever. And now from his seat in heaven, having walked our walk, he helps us. He helps us! And the author writes:

Therefore, holy brothers, you who share in a heavenly calling, consider Jesus, the apostle and high priest of our confession. (Hebrews 3:1 ESV)

Ah, another imperative. Much like the first one. The first one was, "pay attention to what you heard." Now there's this. "Consider Jesus."

Consider Jesus. Read Hebrews 2:5-18 over again, or read Philippians 2:5 and following, or read Colossians 1:15-20, or read the high priestly prayer of Jesus (John 17), or read Luke 23:44-49, or peruse John's vision of Jesus in Revelation 1. Read these or any other you can think of, and consider Jesus.

Consider who he is. Consider what he has done. Consider what he is doing now. Consider that this world, the one we walk around in, so beautiful and yet so appalling, will someday be subject entirely to his will, which will feel like the embrace of perfect love, forever. Pay attention. Consider. Set your mind on. Jesus.

More Ruminating on Hebrews 2

At Hebrews 2:1 we find the first imperative of the letter.

Therefore, pay closer attention to what you've heard, lest you drift away from it.

Now, you've probably heard or read that in the Bible the imperatives (what we should do) always follow from indicatives (about God and what God has done). In this case, there are indicatives about Jesus, stated just prior to this passage, from which follow this imperative. In chapter one the author shows (indicates) the supremacy of Christ. Christ is enthroned on high. Christ is eternal. Christ is greater than angels. And then comes the "therefore":

pay closer attention to what you've heard.

Otherwise:

you might drift away.

I like to ask the simple questions when I read the Scriptures. Like: what does he mean by "what we've heard"? And: how is it we can drift away from what we've heard?

Answer to the first question (methinks): the message we heard about Jesus. It is uniquely important.

Answer to the second question: I'm not sure. But I'm put in mind of something Jesus said (through the apostle John) to the church at Sardis(in The Revelation):

“And to the angel of the church in Sardis write: ‘The words of him who has the seven spirits of God and the seven stars. “‘I know your works. You have the reputation of being alive, but you are dead. Wake up, and strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have not found your works complete in the sight of my God. Remember, then, what you received and heard. Keep it, and repent. If you will not wake up, I will come like a thief, and you will not know at what hour I will come against you. (Revelation 3:1-3 ESV)

Note again, the indicative (about Jesus) comes first (as in all the letters to the seven churches), and then the imperative. The imperative here is essentially the same as in Hebrews:

Remember, then, what you received and heard.

See? As in the Letter to the Hebrews, behavior . . . walking the walk . . . begins with remembering a message, and not drifting away from that message. The whole Bible unpacks that message for us, but at it's core there stands One who holds stars in the palm of His hand. Imagine that.

Ruminating on Scripture: Hebrews 2

So I've been reading The Letter to the Hebrews lately. Well, the first few chapters, over and over. Sometimes, when you read through something, you just know you're not getting everything you could out of the passage. You're not seeing the stitches on the ball, as it were.

Me, I'm a little rusty when it comes to Bible reading. I know I'm not supposed to admit this, but I haven't been "in the Word" lately. Since it's the richest reading material I know, that just shouldn't be. My bad.

So I've begun reading Hebrews. I figure I'll just keep reading the first few chapters until I get it. Of course the first chapter of Hebrews amounts to an over-the-top hymn of praise for Jesus. I'm not going to repeat all that, because you can read it yourself, and it's pretty straightforward. Where the question comes in for me is at the start of chapter two:

Therefore [i.e., given everything he's just said about Jesus] we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it. For since the message declared by angels proved to be reliable, and every transgression or disobedience received a just retribution, how shall we escape if we neglect such a great salvation? It was declared at first by the Lord, and it was attested to us by those who heard, while God also bore witness by signs and wonders and various miracles and by gifts of the Holy Spirit distributed according to his will. (Hebrews 2:1-4 ESV)

When I read this, I get that tingly feeling like when I read a wonderful poem, or hear a beautiful song. The author seems to be opening the door on something spacious and beautiful. He calls it, "so great a salvation."

That phrase, those four words, kind of stir my blood. What is he talking about there? Now, I'm a Christian, and I can tell you what "salvation" means, but just now I want to know what it means in the context of the letter in hand, the letter to the Hebrews. What does the author of this letter mean by "salvation"?

One thing I see in the passage above is that neglecting this great salvation is set against paying close attention to what we've heard. We've heard something, but it's something we need to pay close attention to, for to neglect it, to pay no attention, or to live as if we'd never heard it, would be to neglect "so great a salvation." Do you see? Whatever salvation means, it is very closely associated with "what we have heard."

You might think that's a pretty routine insight, but it does something for me. There is something I've heard, and having heard it, it won my heart. It affected me. But there's also a possibility, perhaps a strong tendency, to forget what I've heard, or to pay less attention to it, or to neglect it. That would be to neglect my salvation.

There's something to chew on here. A message can save you. But a message can also go unheeded. In this context, the message is clearly about Jesus, or perhaps from Jesus. I wonder how it is we who have once paid great heed to that message, can soon enough come to a place where a friend might have to say, you'd better stop neglecting that message, the one you once heeded so well. Stop neglecting your salvation.

I'm still not sure I fully understand this, but I think the passage to follow will surely help. However, that's for another ruminative post.

Work-Ethic or Rest-Ethic

Wonderful article from Paul Trip over at Desiring God, called Real Lasting Rest.

It's a good piece, and it got me thinking. I've been reading and re-reading the first few chapters of Hebrews this week, and of course rest is a theme there as well.

I take rest to be one of those things that we can taste now, even though not in the fullness that we will one day enjoy it. It's a now and not yet kind of thing. The ESV Study Bible, in its comments on Hebrews 4:1-13, puts it this way:

Although some believe [the author of Hebrews] has in view either an entirely present or an entirely future rest, the following section makes most sense if the rest is understood as already inaugurated but awaiting consummation. He looks primarily to the future, as indicated by the need to continue striving to enter this rest (Heb. 4:1, 11, 14) and by the promise of a cessation from the struggles of this life (Heb. 4:9–10). Yet there remains a sense in which that future rest touches the experience of this life (hence “today,” Heb. 4:7).

Now, I make no pretense about always having a heart at rest, enjoying the love of the Father from moment to moment. Nope. Not me. And at heart, as Hebrews teaches, it's a trust issue. We have no rest--no rest from shame, no rest from guilt, no rest from fear, no rest from anxiety about the future, no rest from hopeless striving--because our faith is weak.

I'll have more to say on this, but for now here's a snarky aside to finish with. Why is there so little rest, so much anxiety, in our churches? Why so much emotional pendulum-swinging from boisterous faith to deep despair? Is it because our teachers fear to deliver a message of rest, rather than a message of work? Oh, they're careful to affirm the faith-alone message of the Reformation in theory, but in practice they often have a work-ethic rather than a rest-ethic.

Just sayin' . . .