Trust
Commentary
Object:
Some years ago, when Dick Shepard was the vicar of an Anglican parish in London, England, he had a dream. It was very vivid and stayed with him after he woke. His life was exceptionally busy in those days, constantly trying to meet the demands of the many people under his care in ministry.
One day he felt himself coming down with the flu. But he couldn't afford to get sick! He didn't have the time! There were too many things to do! There were sermons to write, classes to prepare, meetings to chair, and people to visit! His congregation needed him! His family needed him! Even God needed him! He just couldn't afford to get sick right now!
That night he had his terrible nightmare. He dreamed that he was standing in heaven near to God's throne. An angelic telegram arrived, and the messenger handed the envelope to God. God tore it open and read these horrifying words: "Dick Shepard is about to be ill."
Then, said Reverend Shepard, God began to wring his hands. A worried look clouded God's face, and he began to mumble to himself: "Oh no! Dick Shepard is about to be ill! Whatever shall I do? Whatever shall I do?"
When Pastor Shepard woke up in the morning he had a good laugh. He decided that God could probably manage somehow without him, and he stopped living as if all the world depended on him.
That's the lesson in each of our lectionary readings for today. The word of the Lord through Isaiah reminds Israel that identity and trust go hand in hand. The writer of Hebrews calls out faith in those who are thinking of abdicating. And Jesus keeps the eyes of fearful souls trained on the things that truly matter.
Isaiah 1:1, 10-20
Isaiah stands at the head of the collection of Old Testament prophets for good reason. While he is not the earliest among them (Samuel was already considered a prophet three centuries earlier, and many of the first prophets noted in the Bible -- e.g., Nathan, Ahijah -- were evidently not "writing prophets," bequeathing to us no documents to peruse), he is chief over them, giving the prophetic message lyrical power and addressing every theme that others would pursue only in part. Isaiah is the grandmaster of covenant prophecy.
According to the list of kings that Isaiah identifies, during whose reigns he received and declared messages from Yahweh, this prophet's work spanned about fifty years (740-690 BC). During that time Assyria was the constant superpower threat in his contemporary world. "Israel" (the northern portion of David and Solomon's kingdom) had been split off from "Judah" for nearly 300 years (since 922 BC). Because of the tenacious advance of the Assyrian war machine, Israel was desperately seeking ways in which to form alliances that might hold it back for a time. Syria and Israel became partners throughout most of the eighth century, often as much by the sheer dominance of Syria's military might coercing Israel into defensive pacts as by the choice of the Samaria-based government. This temperamental twosome made many overtures, both friendly and threatening, toward Judah, seeking to draw the smaller kingdom into their anti-Assyria alliances either by compliance or force.
This is what lies behind today's lectionary reading. Right up front the word of the Lord comes through Isaiah to declare the apostasy of Israel. The larger political context in which God's people are forced to respond is actually the cauldron of divine judgment.
The written messages of the prophets make it clear that there were a number of challenges and options for the people of Yahweh. First, it was understood that these invaders were the scourge of God in response to the covenant unfaithfulness of the Israelites. Yahweh's people ought not to miss the point that they were no pawns caught on the scrimmage line of an international football game. As Yahweh proved to Hezekiah during the days of Isaiah and the Assyrian threat, no military incursion was either outside of Yahweh's intended influence or superior to Yahweh's mighty control. Things happened by divine plan not whimsical fate, and the sooner the people learned this lesson the more quickly they would return to covenant fidelity with their true sovereign.
Second, international political alliances would not save the people; only Yahweh could do that. Many in Judah were tempted to connect with Egypt, hoping that its stable greatness would shield the tiny hill country from either Assyria or Babylon. Israel, on the other hand, was forever forming pacts with Syria (either willingly or under coercion) over against Assyria and wanted to take Judah into that coalition in order to strengthen it. Meanwhile King Ahaz of Judah did an end run around Israel and Syria, appealing directly to Assyria for help. A generation later King Hezekiah would do something of the same but this time cozying up to Babylonian ambassadors as a secret weapon against Assyrian assault. On each occasion the prophets delivered a word from Yahweh reminding the people that Israel was supposed to be a light to the nations, and not a mere ally among them. Moreover, Yahweh was not a small territorial god thumped about on the chessboard of international politics; Yahweh was the master of nations, and the people ought to respect their sovereign as such.
From this perspective, the "success" of Israel was tied to covenant faithfulness. Israel was not an emerging nation trying to build a new religion; it was the ancient people of Abraham settling in Canaan as a fulfillment of divine promises and shaped as a community of witness by the Sinai suzerain-vassal covenant. But as Isaiah hints in this early prophecy, the grand divine missional experiment of ancient Israel will be judged eventually to be a failure. Israel was created by Yahweh to bring blessing to the nations of the world. That blessing would flow through these people who were intentionally situated on the crossroads of the nations as actors on the stage of life, revealing the character of human existence as recovered and restored in fellowship with its Creator by way of the Sinai suzerain-vassal covenant. Unfortunately, like Samson, the Israelites ultimately became more enamored with the lifestyle and values of their neighbors than in giving witness to the unique treasure of religious insight they had received. During the sixth and fifth centuries BC, just at the time that Israel was losing its faith and covenant distinctiveness, seven of the world's other great religions were being formed. One cannot help but wonder what our world would have looked like if these international seekers of transcendent meaning had found Yahweh through the witness of Israel.
Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16
Steeped as he is in Jewish culture and covenantal outlook, the author of Hebrews reduces all of life to the symbolic representations of the tabernacle. When God took up residence on earth, the furnishings of the tabernacle were designed to provide means by which sinful human beings could approach a holy deity. At the courtyard, on the Altar of Burnt Offering, a sacrificial transaction took place that atoned for inner sin and alienation. The Bronze Sea, although used only by the priests and Levites, symbolized the external cleansing necessary when making contact with Yahweh. In the Holy Place were the visible representations of fellowship -- a table always prepared for mealtime hospitality, a lamp giving light, and the Altar of Incense that reduced the stench of animal sacrifices outside and created a pleasant atmosphere for relaxed conversation. Finally, intimacy with God could be had by passing through the curtain and stepping into the throne room itself, the Most Holy Place. Because this was too large a leap for most sinfully compromised humans to make, access was granted and taken only once a year in the person and representative acts of the high priest.
What Jesus has done, according to the author of Hebrews, is short-circuited the feeble and repetitious efforts at renewing human relations with God by fulfilling all of these practices in a grand once-for-all activity: the cross becomes the Altar of Burnt Offering; baptism is the cleansing washing that replaces the waters of the Bronze Sea; the Lord's Supper is the ongoing experience of the hospitality table; the Holy Spirit is the illuminating presence previously offered by the lamp; prayers (both ours and Jesus') form the new incense that sweetens the atmosphere when we seek God; and the Most Holy Place, with its Mercy Seat atop the Ark of the Covenant, is nothing less than God's grand throne room in heaven itself. Indeed, if the microcosm worldview of the tabernacle is expanded and inverted, we can sketch out the meaning of Jesus and the true religion of our lives as a journey from outside the camp into the holy presence of God.
It is obvious from the writer's argument that he and those he is addressing are deeply steeped in the worldview, culture, practices, and religious rites of Judaism. Not only so, but theirs is a conservative, orthodox, historical understanding of the religion of Israel. The Old Testament is the revelation of God, and Israel holds a special place in transmitting the divine outlook and purposes with the human race. Israel's identity was shaped around its religious ceremonies, which themselves emanated from the tabernacle, its furnishings, and its symbolism.
Although the author of Hebrews shares these perspectives with his audience, there is one significant difference between them: he fully believes Jesus has ushered in a culminating change that transcends and makes obsolete these previous expressions of religious identity, while they, due to cultural pressures around them, are not so sure of that. This document is written to convince a community, which is on the verge of slipping away from Jesus back into a pre-Jesus Jewish ritualistic context, that such a move would be both unwise and inappropriate.
All of this begs the question: Who were the first recipients of this document? Where were they living? What was their background? When were they caught up in these things?
There are a number of clues that come through the author's words:
* They are second-generation Christians (2:1; 2:3; 13:7)
* Who had come through tough times (10:32):
- Many were publicly ridiculed (10:33)
- A number of their leaders apparently were killed (13:7)
- At least some of them had their property confiscated (10:34)
* Although most had not been martyred, many had spent time in prison (10:34; 13:3)
* They knew the Hebrew scriptures well
* They had practiced Hebrew religious ceremonies in the past
* But they were likely Gentile in ethnic background, having come into Judaism in the first place by way of conversion (10:32)
When all of these things are considered together, subtle demographic lines emerge. Because they are well-educated, communicate in Greek, and appear to have come to Judaism from a Gentile background, it is likely that these people were proselytes to Judaism who had been seeking moral grounding in an increasingly debauched and debasing Roman society. There were many instances in the first centuries BC and AD where non-Jews became enamored of the rigorous lifestyle found in Jewish communities scattered throughout the major Roman cities. After going through years of non-participating observation and instruction, they were then officially declared to be Jews through ritual entrance ceremonies.
As with converts to any cause or religion, these are often the most zealous for their newly adopted perspectives and philosophies. So it must have been quite exciting and shocking when news about Jesus circulated, announcing the arrival of messiah and the coming of God's final act of revelation and transformation. No doubt many of these Gentile proselytes to Judaism were quick to take the next step in exploring the messianic fulfillments of the religion they had recently adopted.
Of course, it did not take long before tensions within the Jewish community, and later persecutions from without, took the glow off these exuberant times. In the face of renewed threats against Christians by the Roman government, a complicating twist had been added. All Christians, whether Gentile or Jewish in background, were specifically identified as participants in an illegal religious cult, while Jews who did not believe in Jesus retained official protections as part of an already sanctioned religion.
This heightened the confusion of identity issues for proselyte Jews. If they continued to profess Jesus as messiah, they would be separated from the rest of the Jewish community and persecuted by the Roman government, perhaps losing their property, their families, and even their lives in the process. If, however, they gave up the Jesus factor in their messianic Judaism, they would be able to return to the safety and camaraderie of the general Jewish community, with all of its religious rigor and righteousness, and at the same time escape threats from the Roman officials. The latter option was a very tempting choice to make. This seems, in fact, to be the background of one of the last and most specific exhortations of Hebrews, here in chapter 11 (and moving through ch. 12).
The writer of Hebrews points to others of both Old Testament times and recent difficult circumstances who chose to keep in step with the messianic progression of God's activities, culminating in the coming of Jesus, the messiah. If these followers of the right way could keep their faith, even when it cost them everything, you can do it too! And look! They are the ones who are cheering you on! They believe you can remain faithful. In fact, Jesus himself stands at the end of your journey and beckons you on to the finish line! So don't give up now, just when you are achieving a newer depth in your relationship with God! You can continue on! You can make it!
If this is indeed the context that nurtured Hebrews into being, it is possible to reflect more intelligently on the location of the community in question and the times during which the document was authored. Although the writer of Hebrews talks at length about the sacrifices offered regularly by the priests, there is no indication that either he or his readers were watching these things take place day in and out. The ritual systems of the tabernacle are used like intellectual building blocks of a worldview system. They are deeply engrained in the culture, but not necessarily constantly experienced by those familiar with them, any more than is true for Christians who talk easily about the crucifixion of Jesus.
True religion is not about how humans can become better people through the ritual acts of even the best of systems; rather, it is about how we can follow Jesus with confidence, especially during times of persecution, since he is the latest and greatest expression of the kindness and majesty of God.
Luke 12:32-40
Some years ago the most popular song around the world was Bobbie McFerrin's little tune called "Don't Worry! Be Happy!" People hummed it everywhere, and radio stations of all varieties played its catchy, optimistic message:
Here's a little song I wrote
You might want to sing it note for note:
Don't worry! Be happy!
In your life there may be trouble;
When you worry, you make it double:
Don't worry! Be happy!
Since millions and millions of people bought recordings of that song you would think that no one would be anxious anymore! Unfortunately, even with all that airplay Bobbie McFerrin's song failed to chase the worry warts from our souls.
We all worry. It's part of life. G.K. Chesterton was once asked by a reporter, "If you were a preacher and you had only one sermon to give, what would it be about?"
Chesterton didn't think twice. He said, "I'd preach about worry!" He knew what it was to be human. Worry is a part of life, and something that drives a lot of our actions. Jesus knows that. That's why he focused on worry and nudges his followers not to fear.
We worry about the things that are close to us, the things that are constantly with us, the things that we carrying around with us day after day. We worry about the things that have the most immediate value to us.
Maybe that's really the point of what Jesus is trying to say. Our worries are essentially the test of our values. We worry about things that are the most important to us in life.
That's why Jesus encourages us to take the "Worry Test." What are you most anxious about? What troubles you the most? What keeps you awake at night or disturbs your thoughts most often during the day?
When we take the test we find out where our hearts are at. The worry test teaches us the schedule of values in our lives.
We all worry, but our worries surround the things that we value most in life. Take the "Worry Test," he tells us. List the concerns that bother you the most. When you read your list over, you'll find your heart! "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."
So the challenge of Jesus is not to stop worrying altogether. To be human is to have worries and frets and cares. We are affected by life. The issue, according to Jesus, is to change our goals and values and treasure so that, in the end, our worries will take on a more godly character. That is the point of the brief parable he tells next. Only those who truly seek the kingdom of God will be able to see the whole picture of life and not be caught out with the rest who will kill and steal in order to carve out a temporary security blanket.
Application
Sometimes the reason why we hesitate to trust God is that we don't know if we can trust anyone. One man in his middle years can recount to me every promise his father made to him and then broke when he was a lad. To this day he finds it hard to trust God. After all, as a wise person has noted, " 'Daddy' is the name for God on the lips of a child." When parents fail us (and they always will), we learn mistrust in the religious core of our beings. In order to keep from getting hurt we won't submit, even to God.
Wise pastors have always known that. Yet they continue to encourage people to trust and submit because it is the essence of who we are as humans in our relationship to the Creator of the universe.
In the early church a teaching tale told of a young girl who lived with her parents in a cottage at the edge of a dense forest. "Don't wander too far into the woods," they told her. "You might get lost."
A warm summer's day with birds singing and winds calling, however, carried the girl's feet deeper and deeper into the cool underbrush. The shadows were long before she realized how lost she was. Yelling and crying, she dashed one way and the next, not finding home and working herself into convulsions of panic.
Meanwhile, her parents were worried as well. In the dusk of evening they called her name and made forays into the woods. As thoughts of all the worst fates attacked them, they organized villagers and other neighbors into search parties.
By dawn the young girl was sleeping exhausted on a bed of pine needles, and only her father was left of the many searchers. As he stumbled into the clearing and saw her, his footsteps broke branches and sent birds twittering. The noise awoke her and she saw him. Jumping to her feet she ran toward him, arms outstretched. "Daddy! Daddy!" she cried. "I found you!"
So it is in our lives. When we finally find God "on our own," as we might say, it is a moment of great excitement for us. Yet when the whole story is told again, in our later years, we realize just how patient and persistent has been God's own search for us.
At that point we no longer need to put on religious airs. Then, too, trust sounds like a natural thing.
An Alternative Application
Luke 12:32-40. Alexander Solzhenitsyn remembered how this teaching of Jesus came to him during Solzhenitsyn's days in the Siberian labor camps. He had lost his family. His days stretched out in endless backbreaking efforts. Then the doctors told him he had cancer. There was no cure. He would die soon.
The next day, he said, he barely got out of his bunk. His heart was gone. His mind was numb. He had no energy as he left to join the others in the dawn work patrol. "What's the use?" he asked himself.
Solzhenitsyn says that when he got to the rock quarries he dropped his shovel, sat down, and rested his head on his tired, folded arms. He knew the guards would see him soon, but he didn't care. He hoped that they would shoot him. Then at least the pain would be over and the worries gone.
"Just then," he writes, "I felt someone standing near me. I looked up, and there was an old man. I'd never seen him before. I don't remember ever seeing him again. But he knelt over me, and he took a stick, and he drew a cross on the ground in front of me."
That little act of a stranger did something for Solzhenitsyn. "That cross," he said, "made me see things in a new way! There's a power in this universe that is bigger than any empire or any government! There's a God who experiences our pain and who dies our death and who came back from the tombs. There's a God who gives life meaning, who is life itself! That's what really matters here! That's why we exist! That's why Jesus came to earth for us!"
Solzhenitsyn says that he sat there thinking about it all for a few more minutes. Then he stood up, picked up his shovel, and went back to work. Things wouldn't change around him for over a year, but inside he was a new person. God lives! God cares! God is working out his purposes!
That put Solzhenitsyn's worries in their place. They didn't vanish or disappear suddenly. Instead, they were caught up into a larger perspective of concern. How can I share the life of the Master? How can my days be a reflection of his kingdom, his power, and his glory? That's where Jesus is leading us as well. But that is a hard lesson to learn. We are so good at taking control of our lives. We are very good at trying to play God, to the point that we don't want him to remind us of the real structures of life. And that's when the surprise return of Jesus will catch us up in our worries rather than relaxing in the Master's house, if we do not take these words to heart.
One day he felt himself coming down with the flu. But he couldn't afford to get sick! He didn't have the time! There were too many things to do! There were sermons to write, classes to prepare, meetings to chair, and people to visit! His congregation needed him! His family needed him! Even God needed him! He just couldn't afford to get sick right now!
That night he had his terrible nightmare. He dreamed that he was standing in heaven near to God's throne. An angelic telegram arrived, and the messenger handed the envelope to God. God tore it open and read these horrifying words: "Dick Shepard is about to be ill."
Then, said Reverend Shepard, God began to wring his hands. A worried look clouded God's face, and he began to mumble to himself: "Oh no! Dick Shepard is about to be ill! Whatever shall I do? Whatever shall I do?"
When Pastor Shepard woke up in the morning he had a good laugh. He decided that God could probably manage somehow without him, and he stopped living as if all the world depended on him.
That's the lesson in each of our lectionary readings for today. The word of the Lord through Isaiah reminds Israel that identity and trust go hand in hand. The writer of Hebrews calls out faith in those who are thinking of abdicating. And Jesus keeps the eyes of fearful souls trained on the things that truly matter.
Isaiah 1:1, 10-20
Isaiah stands at the head of the collection of Old Testament prophets for good reason. While he is not the earliest among them (Samuel was already considered a prophet three centuries earlier, and many of the first prophets noted in the Bible -- e.g., Nathan, Ahijah -- were evidently not "writing prophets," bequeathing to us no documents to peruse), he is chief over them, giving the prophetic message lyrical power and addressing every theme that others would pursue only in part. Isaiah is the grandmaster of covenant prophecy.
According to the list of kings that Isaiah identifies, during whose reigns he received and declared messages from Yahweh, this prophet's work spanned about fifty years (740-690 BC). During that time Assyria was the constant superpower threat in his contemporary world. "Israel" (the northern portion of David and Solomon's kingdom) had been split off from "Judah" for nearly 300 years (since 922 BC). Because of the tenacious advance of the Assyrian war machine, Israel was desperately seeking ways in which to form alliances that might hold it back for a time. Syria and Israel became partners throughout most of the eighth century, often as much by the sheer dominance of Syria's military might coercing Israel into defensive pacts as by the choice of the Samaria-based government. This temperamental twosome made many overtures, both friendly and threatening, toward Judah, seeking to draw the smaller kingdom into their anti-Assyria alliances either by compliance or force.
This is what lies behind today's lectionary reading. Right up front the word of the Lord comes through Isaiah to declare the apostasy of Israel. The larger political context in which God's people are forced to respond is actually the cauldron of divine judgment.
The written messages of the prophets make it clear that there were a number of challenges and options for the people of Yahweh. First, it was understood that these invaders were the scourge of God in response to the covenant unfaithfulness of the Israelites. Yahweh's people ought not to miss the point that they were no pawns caught on the scrimmage line of an international football game. As Yahweh proved to Hezekiah during the days of Isaiah and the Assyrian threat, no military incursion was either outside of Yahweh's intended influence or superior to Yahweh's mighty control. Things happened by divine plan not whimsical fate, and the sooner the people learned this lesson the more quickly they would return to covenant fidelity with their true sovereign.
Second, international political alliances would not save the people; only Yahweh could do that. Many in Judah were tempted to connect with Egypt, hoping that its stable greatness would shield the tiny hill country from either Assyria or Babylon. Israel, on the other hand, was forever forming pacts with Syria (either willingly or under coercion) over against Assyria and wanted to take Judah into that coalition in order to strengthen it. Meanwhile King Ahaz of Judah did an end run around Israel and Syria, appealing directly to Assyria for help. A generation later King Hezekiah would do something of the same but this time cozying up to Babylonian ambassadors as a secret weapon against Assyrian assault. On each occasion the prophets delivered a word from Yahweh reminding the people that Israel was supposed to be a light to the nations, and not a mere ally among them. Moreover, Yahweh was not a small territorial god thumped about on the chessboard of international politics; Yahweh was the master of nations, and the people ought to respect their sovereign as such.
From this perspective, the "success" of Israel was tied to covenant faithfulness. Israel was not an emerging nation trying to build a new religion; it was the ancient people of Abraham settling in Canaan as a fulfillment of divine promises and shaped as a community of witness by the Sinai suzerain-vassal covenant. But as Isaiah hints in this early prophecy, the grand divine missional experiment of ancient Israel will be judged eventually to be a failure. Israel was created by Yahweh to bring blessing to the nations of the world. That blessing would flow through these people who were intentionally situated on the crossroads of the nations as actors on the stage of life, revealing the character of human existence as recovered and restored in fellowship with its Creator by way of the Sinai suzerain-vassal covenant. Unfortunately, like Samson, the Israelites ultimately became more enamored with the lifestyle and values of their neighbors than in giving witness to the unique treasure of religious insight they had received. During the sixth and fifth centuries BC, just at the time that Israel was losing its faith and covenant distinctiveness, seven of the world's other great religions were being formed. One cannot help but wonder what our world would have looked like if these international seekers of transcendent meaning had found Yahweh through the witness of Israel.
Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16
Steeped as he is in Jewish culture and covenantal outlook, the author of Hebrews reduces all of life to the symbolic representations of the tabernacle. When God took up residence on earth, the furnishings of the tabernacle were designed to provide means by which sinful human beings could approach a holy deity. At the courtyard, on the Altar of Burnt Offering, a sacrificial transaction took place that atoned for inner sin and alienation. The Bronze Sea, although used only by the priests and Levites, symbolized the external cleansing necessary when making contact with Yahweh. In the Holy Place were the visible representations of fellowship -- a table always prepared for mealtime hospitality, a lamp giving light, and the Altar of Incense that reduced the stench of animal sacrifices outside and created a pleasant atmosphere for relaxed conversation. Finally, intimacy with God could be had by passing through the curtain and stepping into the throne room itself, the Most Holy Place. Because this was too large a leap for most sinfully compromised humans to make, access was granted and taken only once a year in the person and representative acts of the high priest.
What Jesus has done, according to the author of Hebrews, is short-circuited the feeble and repetitious efforts at renewing human relations with God by fulfilling all of these practices in a grand once-for-all activity: the cross becomes the Altar of Burnt Offering; baptism is the cleansing washing that replaces the waters of the Bronze Sea; the Lord's Supper is the ongoing experience of the hospitality table; the Holy Spirit is the illuminating presence previously offered by the lamp; prayers (both ours and Jesus') form the new incense that sweetens the atmosphere when we seek God; and the Most Holy Place, with its Mercy Seat atop the Ark of the Covenant, is nothing less than God's grand throne room in heaven itself. Indeed, if the microcosm worldview of the tabernacle is expanded and inverted, we can sketch out the meaning of Jesus and the true religion of our lives as a journey from outside the camp into the holy presence of God.
It is obvious from the writer's argument that he and those he is addressing are deeply steeped in the worldview, culture, practices, and religious rites of Judaism. Not only so, but theirs is a conservative, orthodox, historical understanding of the religion of Israel. The Old Testament is the revelation of God, and Israel holds a special place in transmitting the divine outlook and purposes with the human race. Israel's identity was shaped around its religious ceremonies, which themselves emanated from the tabernacle, its furnishings, and its symbolism.
Although the author of Hebrews shares these perspectives with his audience, there is one significant difference between them: he fully believes Jesus has ushered in a culminating change that transcends and makes obsolete these previous expressions of religious identity, while they, due to cultural pressures around them, are not so sure of that. This document is written to convince a community, which is on the verge of slipping away from Jesus back into a pre-Jesus Jewish ritualistic context, that such a move would be both unwise and inappropriate.
All of this begs the question: Who were the first recipients of this document? Where were they living? What was their background? When were they caught up in these things?
There are a number of clues that come through the author's words:
* They are second-generation Christians (2:1; 2:3; 13:7)
* Who had come through tough times (10:32):
- Many were publicly ridiculed (10:33)
- A number of their leaders apparently were killed (13:7)
- At least some of them had their property confiscated (10:34)
* Although most had not been martyred, many had spent time in prison (10:34; 13:3)
* They knew the Hebrew scriptures well
* They had practiced Hebrew religious ceremonies in the past
* But they were likely Gentile in ethnic background, having come into Judaism in the first place by way of conversion (10:32)
When all of these things are considered together, subtle demographic lines emerge. Because they are well-educated, communicate in Greek, and appear to have come to Judaism from a Gentile background, it is likely that these people were proselytes to Judaism who had been seeking moral grounding in an increasingly debauched and debasing Roman society. There were many instances in the first centuries BC and AD where non-Jews became enamored of the rigorous lifestyle found in Jewish communities scattered throughout the major Roman cities. After going through years of non-participating observation and instruction, they were then officially declared to be Jews through ritual entrance ceremonies.
As with converts to any cause or religion, these are often the most zealous for their newly adopted perspectives and philosophies. So it must have been quite exciting and shocking when news about Jesus circulated, announcing the arrival of messiah and the coming of God's final act of revelation and transformation. No doubt many of these Gentile proselytes to Judaism were quick to take the next step in exploring the messianic fulfillments of the religion they had recently adopted.
Of course, it did not take long before tensions within the Jewish community, and later persecutions from without, took the glow off these exuberant times. In the face of renewed threats against Christians by the Roman government, a complicating twist had been added. All Christians, whether Gentile or Jewish in background, were specifically identified as participants in an illegal religious cult, while Jews who did not believe in Jesus retained official protections as part of an already sanctioned religion.
This heightened the confusion of identity issues for proselyte Jews. If they continued to profess Jesus as messiah, they would be separated from the rest of the Jewish community and persecuted by the Roman government, perhaps losing their property, their families, and even their lives in the process. If, however, they gave up the Jesus factor in their messianic Judaism, they would be able to return to the safety and camaraderie of the general Jewish community, with all of its religious rigor and righteousness, and at the same time escape threats from the Roman officials. The latter option was a very tempting choice to make. This seems, in fact, to be the background of one of the last and most specific exhortations of Hebrews, here in chapter 11 (and moving through ch. 12).
The writer of Hebrews points to others of both Old Testament times and recent difficult circumstances who chose to keep in step with the messianic progression of God's activities, culminating in the coming of Jesus, the messiah. If these followers of the right way could keep their faith, even when it cost them everything, you can do it too! And look! They are the ones who are cheering you on! They believe you can remain faithful. In fact, Jesus himself stands at the end of your journey and beckons you on to the finish line! So don't give up now, just when you are achieving a newer depth in your relationship with God! You can continue on! You can make it!
If this is indeed the context that nurtured Hebrews into being, it is possible to reflect more intelligently on the location of the community in question and the times during which the document was authored. Although the writer of Hebrews talks at length about the sacrifices offered regularly by the priests, there is no indication that either he or his readers were watching these things take place day in and out. The ritual systems of the tabernacle are used like intellectual building blocks of a worldview system. They are deeply engrained in the culture, but not necessarily constantly experienced by those familiar with them, any more than is true for Christians who talk easily about the crucifixion of Jesus.
True religion is not about how humans can become better people through the ritual acts of even the best of systems; rather, it is about how we can follow Jesus with confidence, especially during times of persecution, since he is the latest and greatest expression of the kindness and majesty of God.
Luke 12:32-40
Some years ago the most popular song around the world was Bobbie McFerrin's little tune called "Don't Worry! Be Happy!" People hummed it everywhere, and radio stations of all varieties played its catchy, optimistic message:
Here's a little song I wrote
You might want to sing it note for note:
Don't worry! Be happy!
In your life there may be trouble;
When you worry, you make it double:
Don't worry! Be happy!
Since millions and millions of people bought recordings of that song you would think that no one would be anxious anymore! Unfortunately, even with all that airplay Bobbie McFerrin's song failed to chase the worry warts from our souls.
We all worry. It's part of life. G.K. Chesterton was once asked by a reporter, "If you were a preacher and you had only one sermon to give, what would it be about?"
Chesterton didn't think twice. He said, "I'd preach about worry!" He knew what it was to be human. Worry is a part of life, and something that drives a lot of our actions. Jesus knows that. That's why he focused on worry and nudges his followers not to fear.
We worry about the things that are close to us, the things that are constantly with us, the things that we carrying around with us day after day. We worry about the things that have the most immediate value to us.
Maybe that's really the point of what Jesus is trying to say. Our worries are essentially the test of our values. We worry about things that are the most important to us in life.
That's why Jesus encourages us to take the "Worry Test." What are you most anxious about? What troubles you the most? What keeps you awake at night or disturbs your thoughts most often during the day?
When we take the test we find out where our hearts are at. The worry test teaches us the schedule of values in our lives.
We all worry, but our worries surround the things that we value most in life. Take the "Worry Test," he tells us. List the concerns that bother you the most. When you read your list over, you'll find your heart! "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."
So the challenge of Jesus is not to stop worrying altogether. To be human is to have worries and frets and cares. We are affected by life. The issue, according to Jesus, is to change our goals and values and treasure so that, in the end, our worries will take on a more godly character. That is the point of the brief parable he tells next. Only those who truly seek the kingdom of God will be able to see the whole picture of life and not be caught out with the rest who will kill and steal in order to carve out a temporary security blanket.
Application
Sometimes the reason why we hesitate to trust God is that we don't know if we can trust anyone. One man in his middle years can recount to me every promise his father made to him and then broke when he was a lad. To this day he finds it hard to trust God. After all, as a wise person has noted, " 'Daddy' is the name for God on the lips of a child." When parents fail us (and they always will), we learn mistrust in the religious core of our beings. In order to keep from getting hurt we won't submit, even to God.
Wise pastors have always known that. Yet they continue to encourage people to trust and submit because it is the essence of who we are as humans in our relationship to the Creator of the universe.
In the early church a teaching tale told of a young girl who lived with her parents in a cottage at the edge of a dense forest. "Don't wander too far into the woods," they told her. "You might get lost."
A warm summer's day with birds singing and winds calling, however, carried the girl's feet deeper and deeper into the cool underbrush. The shadows were long before she realized how lost she was. Yelling and crying, she dashed one way and the next, not finding home and working herself into convulsions of panic.
Meanwhile, her parents were worried as well. In the dusk of evening they called her name and made forays into the woods. As thoughts of all the worst fates attacked them, they organized villagers and other neighbors into search parties.
By dawn the young girl was sleeping exhausted on a bed of pine needles, and only her father was left of the many searchers. As he stumbled into the clearing and saw her, his footsteps broke branches and sent birds twittering. The noise awoke her and she saw him. Jumping to her feet she ran toward him, arms outstretched. "Daddy! Daddy!" she cried. "I found you!"
So it is in our lives. When we finally find God "on our own," as we might say, it is a moment of great excitement for us. Yet when the whole story is told again, in our later years, we realize just how patient and persistent has been God's own search for us.
At that point we no longer need to put on religious airs. Then, too, trust sounds like a natural thing.
An Alternative Application
Luke 12:32-40. Alexander Solzhenitsyn remembered how this teaching of Jesus came to him during Solzhenitsyn's days in the Siberian labor camps. He had lost his family. His days stretched out in endless backbreaking efforts. Then the doctors told him he had cancer. There was no cure. He would die soon.
The next day, he said, he barely got out of his bunk. His heart was gone. His mind was numb. He had no energy as he left to join the others in the dawn work patrol. "What's the use?" he asked himself.
Solzhenitsyn says that when he got to the rock quarries he dropped his shovel, sat down, and rested his head on his tired, folded arms. He knew the guards would see him soon, but he didn't care. He hoped that they would shoot him. Then at least the pain would be over and the worries gone.
"Just then," he writes, "I felt someone standing near me. I looked up, and there was an old man. I'd never seen him before. I don't remember ever seeing him again. But he knelt over me, and he took a stick, and he drew a cross on the ground in front of me."
That little act of a stranger did something for Solzhenitsyn. "That cross," he said, "made me see things in a new way! There's a power in this universe that is bigger than any empire or any government! There's a God who experiences our pain and who dies our death and who came back from the tombs. There's a God who gives life meaning, who is life itself! That's what really matters here! That's why we exist! That's why Jesus came to earth for us!"
Solzhenitsyn says that he sat there thinking about it all for a few more minutes. Then he stood up, picked up his shovel, and went back to work. Things wouldn't change around him for over a year, but inside he was a new person. God lives! God cares! God is working out his purposes!
That put Solzhenitsyn's worries in their place. They didn't vanish or disappear suddenly. Instead, they were caught up into a larger perspective of concern. How can I share the life of the Master? How can my days be a reflection of his kingdom, his power, and his glory? That's where Jesus is leading us as well. But that is a hard lesson to learn. We are so good at taking control of our lives. We are very good at trying to play God, to the point that we don't want him to remind us of the real structures of life. And that's when the surprise return of Jesus will catch us up in our worries rather than relaxing in the Master's house, if we do not take these words to heart.
