The Joy of Holding On

Hebrews 10:32-39

I’ve always been an avid reader. And as a kid, I had my favorite series, and I read them over and over again. The Black Stallion books. The Little House on the Prairie series. The Hardy Boys. And the Chronicles of Narnia. I read every book in each of those series over and over and over again.

So I’ve read the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis several times. As both a child and as an adult. The story of the Pevensie children, and a few other members of their family too, and their encounters with Aslan, the great lion, in Narnia. C.S. Lewis himself had a favorite quote about the mighty Aslan. It comes from the first of the books, The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. “He is not a tame lion.”

One author, describing Aslan, writes these words: “The deep growl, the severe mercy; the uncompromising, firm-but-smiling gaze. When Aslan speaks no one in the story can question who is in charge. When the lion speaks, one not only gets the sense, but one knows that nothing more need be said. This is really the way things are and not only will they not be changed, indeed they cannot – we have bumped up against a greater reality than ourselves and our particular perspective.

He is Lord and he does what he wills. He calls children from another world when and to where he desires. He vanquishes foes in his own good time. No one can ever think of sitting in judgement on him. To think of controlling him would be preposterous. The lightning is too powerful to be bottled, the mountain too furious to be captured on a video tape. There is a wildness in his nature and he will not be muzzled.”

But there was another “lion” in the Chronicles. Well, one being made to appear as a lion. He appears in the last of the seven books, The Last Battle. He was supposed to fool the people into thinking he was Aslan, to lead the people astray. But he was no Aslan. He was simple and simplistic donkey, kept hidden away in a stable until he was paraded out to fool the people. A false lion who waddles when he walks. Who does not roar. He has an old, dead skin of a lion covering him that gives him just a hint of lion-likeness, but he is no lion. When the real thing shows up, the falsehood is ripped away. When Aslan himself comes, no one can stand against him. Nongods and dead gods and fake, donkey gods are no threat. But the living God is something else entirely.[i]

He will not be controlled by our impulses, desires, and false images of him. He is who he is. In fact, that is his name. Yahweh. “I am what I am.” Not, “I am what you want me to be.” “I am what I am.” I am ultimate reality. I am that to which other beings conform, not one who conforms to other beings. And yet, he did conform. He became like us in Christ to reveal to us, in our experience and in a way we could understand, exactly what he is like. Jesus is God translated for us, so that we can understand.

Now, the ancient pastor who wrote Hebrews has just ended one of the most aggressive and hard-hitting warnings in all of Scripture. He or she has warned us of the dangers of letting go of Jesus when life gets hard, and we’re especially tempted to let go of Jesus, to turn our backs on him and go back to our old lives apart from him, when life gets hard specifically BECAUSE we follow Jesus. That warning to persevere, to hang on and not let go, ends with the spine-tingling words “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God” (Heb. 10:31).[ii]

But then, after giving us one of the most dire warnings in the entire Bible, our loving pastor draws us close and encourages us, much like a parent comforting a child they’ve just disciplined. And in the process, gives us exactly what we need to heed the warning just given and hang on to Jesus through life’s storms. Turn with me to Hebrews 10:32-39. We’re going to start with Vv. 32-34.

“But recall …” Look back. Remember. But now it isn’t “remember the history of your people.” Or “Remember the failure of the wilderness generation.” It’s “Remember your own past.” Remember your own walk with Christ in the past.

Remember how you’ve held on to Christ in the past. Remember his faithfulness in your life through your past struggles. He gave you strength then. He will give you strength now. Lean into him. There is more to your faith than you realize right now. Your faith is stronger than you think.

And life hadn’t been easy in this harried little church near Rome. This loving pastor reminds them that they have already “endured a hard struggle.” The word translated as “hard struggle” here is the Greek word “athlesis.” It forms the root of our word “athletic.” Like St. Paul and other New Testament writers, our pastor is drawing on the language of intense athletic competition as a metaphor for what they had experienced in the past, and were experiencing today.

When I was in high school, I played basketball and ran track. And in track, I was a distance runner. Not a good one, mind you. But a distance runner nonetheless. And as an adult I kept up my running until my knees really couldn’t do it anymore. Today, even at the high school level, they do a lot more coaching on the mental part of running a race. They talk about how to start well, and then settle in to a good race pace and hold your position, and then finish with a strong kick at the end. They coach you to know what each of those phases of the race should feel like. What each lap should feel like. They didn’t do that when I was in high school. They just said, “Go run.” We had to figure the rest out on our own.

We did talk some about the kick at the end. But we didn’t really get any coaching on starting well. And starting well is just as important as finishing well. You don’t want to come out TOO fast and burn yourself out too quickly. But you don’t want to fall too far back early on either. Starting well is a learned skill in race running.

And in the race of faith, the members of this small little church in Rome had started well. They’d faced quite a bit of adversity early on, and they didn’t quit or turn back. Look at Vv. 33-34.

They’d experienced public reproach. Insults. Verbal abuse. Mockery. False accusations. They’d been ridiculed, lied about, insulted, and verbally intimidated. And this had happened publicly. Not in private. Not quietly. But out in the open for all to see and hear. They’d been turned into the butt of a community joke. They’d become public theater.

Some had been beaten, or imprisoned, or both. And in that day, when you were imprisoned, public tax dollars weren’t spent to take care of you – feed you and clothe you. If they were in prison, they became dependent on family members and friends who were willing to visit them to provide for them – bringing food and clean clothes. And visiting them meant identifying with them. Admitting that you were a part of their group too. Which put you in danger of being treated the same way.

It’s what Peter had refused to do during the trial of Jesus – being associated with him, being recognized as one who was with him. Why was Peter afraid of that? Because it opened him up to the same treatment. But they hadn’t done that.

They’d obeyed the words of Jesus, “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me” (Mt. 25:35-36). They didn’t abandon those who were imprisoned for their faith. They came to them. They visited them. They identified with them. And because of that, they opened themselves up to the same harsh treatment.

They’d been turned into a public spectacle. They’d been beaten and imprisoned. And they’d been demonized and depersonalized. They’d been turned into a people who didn’t really fit anywhere. Their world was divided into two groups. The Jews, and everyone else. The gentiles. They didn’t fit with the Jews, because they followed Jesus. They didn’t fit with the gentiles either, because they followed Jesus.

When we begin to follow Jesus, we don’t fit comfortably into this world’s artificial structures anymore. Why? Because we’re following Jesus above all else. In Galatians 3:28, St. Paul says, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” As followers of Jesus, we no longer fit neatly inside racial boundaries. We no longer fit neatly within cultural boundaries. We no longer fit neatly into a single political ideology, whether it leans left or right. The old barriers separating what men and women could do no longer apply. As followers of Jesus, we can’t get around that. We aren’t permitted to. We are defined by Jesus, and by him alone.

So we look to Jesus. Imagine that Ed is a leader going one way, and Gregg is a leader going the other way. Now, Bobby, come up here. With his hair down, Bobby looks a lot like artistic depictions of Jesus. So let’s pretend Bobby is Jesus for a second. Now, if I’m following Jesus, then my eyes are on him, right? And so Gregg or Ed can be moving in and out, sometimes getting closer to Jesus, and sometimes farther away. When they get closer to Jesus, I’m happy. When they get farther from him, I’m troubled. But I’m not following them. I can see them. I’m aware of them, but I’m following Jesus, not them. I don’t fit neatly into their categories.

In John 15:19, Jesus says that those of us who follow him, “If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you.” The world hates us because as followers of Jesus, we don’t play by its rules. We don’t play its game. Likewise, Philippians 3:20 says, “But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.” If we fit neatly and cleanly into this worlds cultural, social, and political categories, we need to do a heart check, because we aren’t following Jesus. We’re following this world.

If we’re going to finish well, we have to start well, and that means remembering what we’ve already been through with Jesus, and his faithfulness then. We have to remember that following Jesus places us at odds with this world, and we often are not going to be winning popularity contests. If we’re effectively loving our neighbors, we’ll be an enigma to this world, because they’ll appreciate it, even as they don’t like us and don’t know what to do with us.

You see, life with Jesus isn’t always easy. But it is always, ALWAYS worth it. Look at the second half of V. 34. This makes absolutely no sense to most people. How can someone joyfully accept their property and possessions being taken from them? This makes no sense.

We have a strong sense of possession, especially here in the United States. Some cultures don’t have as strong a sense of private property as we do. But many do. And if there’s one thing I know, its that my stuff is MY stuff. And that means it isn’t YOUR stuff. And YOU can’t just take MY stuff. We even have laws protecting us from government representatives being on our property without good reason. We have security cameras and we build fences and walls not so much to keep things IN anymore. Most of us don’t have farms and livestock. No, its to keep others OUT.

Now, it’s important to understand here that these people weren’t seeing their possessions plundered just because. They were losing their possessions specifically because they followed Jesus. It was still unjust and unfair. But it wasn’t happening for some other reason. Their property and possessions weren’t being taken by thieves. They were being taken by the government BECAUSE THEY FOLLOWED JESUS. And yet, when that happened, they accepted it with joy.

What?!?! With joy? Yes. Why? Because they knew that they had a better possession already in their name in the Kingdom of God that no human government and no thief could touch, that no stock market crash or economic downturn or lost business could impact. And they KNEW that what they have in the Kingdom of God is very real and tangible. It wasn’t “pie in the sky” thinking. It was very down to earth thinking. So down to earth that it understands that the things of this earth will eventually fail. And that what we have as citizens of God’s kingdom will more than make up for anything lost in this world.

Does this mean they wouldn’t happy accept the return of their property if it were offered? Of course not. They’d happily take it back. But losing it didn’t derail them. They had leaned into the words of James 1:2-4. “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” Joy in the face of trial is one of the hallmarks of authentic faith in Jesus. The ability to handle the challenges of life, especially the challenges that come specifically because you follow Jesus, with steadfastness and joy, not getting derailed by it.

Now, look at Vv. 36-39. If we don’t start the race, we’ll never get the chance to finish it. You and I have started the race. Can you look back and see what God has brought you through already? Can you look back at what you’ve already faced and overcome in Christ? You’ve started. So remember what you’ve already come through.

But lots of people start races who never finish them. Each year about four dozen athletes gather in Minnesota for the St. Croix 40 Winter Ultra. Runners spend good money to embark on a 40-mile ultra-marathon, at night, in January, in Minnesota, while pulling a sled packed with 30-plus pounds of supplies. A marathon is 26.2 miles. An ultra-marathon is anything longer than that. This one is 40 miles. Through the night. In January in Minnesota. Pulling a sled filled with supplies. In this environment, you can literally die from standing still for too long.

Over 25% of the runners will not finish the race. Most of these will drop out at a very interesting point. Participants reach mile marker 24 (aka Checkpoint 24) between 10 pm and midnight. If a runner plans to take on the last 16 miles, he/she must prove they have the skills to stay alive in the case of an emergency. They must stop, set up their bivy sack (a body-shaped tent that envelops their sleeping bag), climb into the makeshift bed, wait around 30 seconds, then pack it all up before leaving.

Personally, that sounds like the easiest part of the race. But when the temperature nears zero, and you’re covered in sweat, coming out of a very brief respite in a sleeping bag the temptation to quit is strong. The most dangerous thing a runner can do in a race like this is stop.[iii]

If we remember well what we’ve already come through, we can respond well to what we face today. And that leads to ending well. Our pastor quotes from the Old Testament prophet Habakkuk 2:3-4. In doing so, he or she lifts our gaze to see the finish line. Reminding us that Christ will come again. That isn’t a possibility, or even a probability. It is a certainty. He isn’t going to do it on our timetable, but Christ is going to return.

And those who persevere are those who live by faith. Trusting God. Leaning into his promises knowing that he is faithful. Leaning on him when our strength runs out. But refusing to let go.

We cannot throw away our confidence. The word translated confidence here is translated as boldness in other parts of Hebrews. We can boldly enter God’s presence because of what Christ has done, and now we can confidently hold on to him and to his promises, knowing that he will return. And so we don’t drop out of the race. We don’t give up. We don’t quit.

The prophet Habakkuk goes on after the passage quoted here. He goes on to paint a beautiful picture of faith that endures, that perseveres.  I’d like to close this morning by reading Habakkuk 3:17-19. “Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls …” We all face trial at some point in life. We all struggle. It is not unique to those who follow Jesus. But those of us who follow Jesus will sometimes face trial and struggle specifically because we follow Jesus. And it is then that we are tempted to quit. Because life would be easier if we did.

“ … yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer’s; he makes me tread on my high places.”

That’s the attitude of one who will finish the race. That’s the attitude of one who has stood face to face with the lion of the tribe of Judah. Not a false lion or a fake lion but the one who’s roar shakes the foundations of the cosmos. The attitude of one who has bowed their knee to him and received his grace and the identity he gives. And who now has his strength flowing through him and his spirit giving life.

Are you going to finish the race? Let’s pray.

[i] George H. Guthrie, Hebrews, The NIV Application Commentary

[ii] R. Kent Hughes, Hebrews: An Anchor for the Soul

[iii] Sarah Scoles, “Hell? Yes; Endurance athletes and the pleasure of pushing it,” Popular Science (Summer 2020), pp. 38-45