O How They Love One Another, part 3 (Hebrews 13:3)

So far in our study of Hebrews 13 we’ve discussed two ways we show the depth in which God has changed our lives, from selfish individuals to people who truly love others—loving our siblings in Christ, and loving strangers (sometime outside of Christ).

Let brotherly love continue. 2Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. 3Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body.

The third exhortation to love is towards the imprisoned.  “Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body” (Heb. 12:3).  These were people you could no longer invite into your home, so our author encourages us to go to them. These were not people in prison because they had committed crimes, but because they were Christians who stood up for Jesus Christ.  Our author is encouraging them to care about these people.  So  what about those who, robbed of their freedom, cannot visit our homes, but long for us to visit them?  Do we care?

R. Kent Hughes relates this story:

Herman Melville in his novel White Jacket has one of the ship’s sailors became desperately ill with severe abdominal pain.  The ship’s surgeon, Dr. Cuticle, waxes enthusiastic at the possibility of having a real case to treat, one that challenges his surgeon’s ability.  Appendicitis is the happy diagnosis.  Dr. Cuticle recruits some other sailors to serve as his attendants.

The poor seaman is laid out on the table, and the doctor goes to work with skillful enthusiasm.  His incisions are precise, and while removing the diseased appendix he proudly points out interesting anatomical details to his seaman-helpers who had never before seen the inside of another human.  He is completely absorbed in his work and obviously a skilled professional. It is an impressive performance, but the sailors—without exception—are not impressed but are rather appalled.  Why?  Their poor friend, now receiving his last stitch, has long been dead on the table! Dr. Cuticle had not even noticed (Eugene H. Peterson, Working the Angles (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1989), p. 74).

Cold Dr. Cuticle—a man with ice water in his veins—was insensitive and void of empathy.  We might lack empathy today, not because we are cold professionals, but because we have experienced compassion fatigue.

In the mid-’80s Neil Postman wrote Amusing Ourselves to Death, which explored how media affects public discourse.  He made the observation that before the telegraph, people found out about tragedies, fires or illness by word of mouth.  They felt empowered because they were responding to local situations.  They could express their compassion concretely and immediately.

Then, in 1906, when news of the San Francisco earthquake was telegraphed across the country, people were horrified but didn’t know what to do.  Since the turn of the last century, there has been an exponential increase in the amount of news we hear or read from every corner of the globe.  In turn, there is an increasing sense of disempowerment or impotency in the face of such suffering and pain because we don’t know what we can do.

Add to that our addiction to our phones and we find that our attention to others is eroded, our penchant for communicating our anger has increased, and even the fact that everyone is one their phones only serves to alienate us from one another.

So empathy and compassion are in short supply these days.  But our author wanted his original audience, who faced their own obstacles to empathy and compassion, as well as us today with our challenges, to…

Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body.

“The prisoners” in view were evidently Christians who were suffering for their testimonies (cf. 10:34; Matt. 25:36, 40).  

Prisoners depended on relatives and friends to provide food, clothing, and other necessities. The numerous references to Paul’s experiences as a prisoner reveal that his friends came to take care of his needs (Acts 24:23; 27:3; 28:10, 16, 30; Phil 4:12; 2 Tm 1:16; 4:13, 21).  Prisoners, then, had to be remembered; otherwise they suffered hunger, thirst, cold, and loneliness  (William Hendriksen & Simon J. Kistemaker, NT Commentary: Hebrews, 409).

The existence of a significant number of prisoners (plural) supports a date of writing after A.D. 64, when an empire-wide persecution of Christians began.  In July of that same year Emperor Nero set fire to Rome and blamed the Christians. This resulted in much persecution of Christians.  

Remembering these people would involve praying for them and assisting them in any way possible.  Christians are to have eyes and ears and hearts open to those who are in need around them and do something about it.  This is true whether the needy are in prison or otherwise oppressed or mistreated.  As Christians, we are all called to the ministry of compassion  (Ray C. Stedman, How to Live What You Believe, 182).

Our author had expressed earlier that they had been assisting prisoners before.  In 10:32-34 we read:

But recall the former days when, after you were enlightened, you endured a hard struggle with sufferings, sometimes being publicly exposed to reproach and affliction, and sometimes being partners with those so treated.  For you had compassion on those in prison, and you joyfully accepted the plundering of your property, since you knew that you yourselves had a better possession and an abiding one.

And how important their sympathetic caring had been, because those suffering the abuse of prison were virtually dependent on the church for survival.

Believers were always trying to find ways to smuggle food and themselves into the prisons.  Often it cost them their lives to reach and help an ailing brother.  The early Christians became so notorious for this that one Roman emperor, Licinius, passed a law forbidding anyone to show mercy to starving prisoners.  Anyone caught supplying food to them was to share the same fate as the one he was trying to help.  Yet that didn’t stop those early Christians.  They bribed guards, paid ransoms, anything to help their brethren  (C. S. Lovett, Lovett’s Lights on Hebrews, 323).  Some early Christians sold themselves into slavery to get money to free a fellow believer  (John MacArthur Jr., The MacArthur NT Commentary: Hebrews, 428).

Similarly, The Apology of Aristides describes Christians’ care for the incarcerated, saying: “If they hear that any of their number is imprisoned or oppressed for the name of their Messiah, all of them provide for his needs, and if it is possible that he may be delivered, they deliver him.  If there is among them a man that is poor or needy, and they have not an abundance of necessaries, they fast two or three days that they may supply the needy with their necessary food  (J. Rendel Harris, The Apology of Aristides, Vol. 1, 48-9)  (R. Kent Hughes, Preaching the Word: Hebrews, vol. 2, 211-2).

Lucian, again, has his bogus Christian, Proteus Peregrinus, tossed into prison, and, satirical as Lucian was, the sympathetic care of Christians shines through.  Says Lucian, the Christians

. . . left nothing undone in the effort to rescue him. Then, as this was impossible, every other form of attention was shown him, not in any casual way but with assiduity [diligent attention]; and from the very break of day aged widows and orphan children could be seen waiting near the prison, while their officials even slept inside with him after bribing the guards. The elaborate meals were brought in, and sacred books of theirs were read aloud (The Passing of Peregrinus , 12).

How beautiful the church had been and would continue to be!  Lights in a world gone dark.

They were to remember them “as though in prison with them.”  The unadorned empathy commanded here was not based on the esoteric truth that Christians are members of each other in Christ, but rather on the truth of shared humanity.  Project your humanity into the place where their humanity now is—in suffering or in prison.  “These believers knew that at any time any of them could be imprisoned for his or her faith.  They could become one another’s “fellow prisoners” in a very real sense.  Those who were sent to prison ought to be remembered by those who were still free” (Bruce Barton, Life Application Bible Commentary: Hebrews, 231).

When we do go through pain and trouble and heartache, it is easier for us to sympathize with others.  Charles Spurgeon says, “It must be a terrible thing for a man to have never to have suffered physical pain.  You say, ‘I should like to be that man.’  Ah, unless you had extraordinary grace, you would grow hard and cold; you would get to be a sort of cast iron man, breaking other people with your touch.  No, let my heart be tender, even be soft, if it must be softened by pain, for I would fain know how to bind up my fellow’s wound.  Let my eye have a tear ready for my brother’s sorrows, even if in order to that, I should have to shed ten thousand for my own.  As escape from suffering would be escape from the power to sympathize, and that were to be deprecated beyond all things.” 

Love to the brethren is to manifest itself in sympathy for sufferers.  Most reprehensible and un-Christlike is that selfish callousness which says, “I have troubles enough of my own without concerning myself over those of other people.”  Putting it on its lowest ground, such a spirit ministers no relief: the most effectual method of getting away from our own sorrows is to seek out and relieve others in our distress.  But nothing has a more beneficial tendency to counteract our innate selfishness than a compliance with such exhortations as the one here before us: to be occupied with the severer afflictions which some of our brethren are experiencing will free our minds from the lighter trials we may be passing through.  (Arthur W. Pink, An Exposition of Hebrews, 1121)

“Sympathy is a shallow stream in the souls of those who have not suffered” (William E. Sangster).  Sympathy sees and says, “I’m sorry.”  Compassion sees and says, “I’ll help.”  Jesus says to minister to such people “in prison” is to minister to Him (Matthew 25:36, 40).

This is intended to mean more than simply to call to mind: it involves the idea of identification with them.  This would require deep Christian understanding and sympathy; to sit as it were with those who are afflicted (Donald Guthrie, Tyndale NT Commentaries: Hebrews, 268).  The words “since you are also in the body” are added to remind the readers that they too could be exposed to the same treatment.  The readers themselves might one day suffer the same fate as these prisoners, since they were still leading a mortal existence (“are in the body”).  

They were to FEEL the hurt, the same as God feels it when any of us is in trouble.  Only in this way could they be an extension of God’s love.  Believers are able to express this kind of sympathy inasmuch as they are still in the body and exposed to similar testings themselves.  In those days no one knew when it might be his turn to suffer for Jesus.  The times were perilous indeed.  The ability to put yourself in the shoes of an imprisoned brother and feel his suffering was a part of “brother-love.”  (C. S. Lovett, Lovett’s Lights on Hebrews, 323)

Paul urged Timothy not to be ashamed of him when he was a prisoner (2 Tim. 1:8).  All the Christians in the province of Asia had abandoned Paul at that time, except for those in Onesiphorus’ household (2 Tim 1:15-18).  

Nothing is more pleasing to parents than to see their children caring for each other.  “Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brothers to dwell together in unity!” (Ps 133:1).  When His children care for each other, help each other, and live in harmony with each other, God is both delighted and glorified.  (John MacArthur Jr., The MacArthur NT Commentary: Hebrews, 424)

Because of our compassion fatigue and distractions through our Smart Phones, we have need of this reminder to think of, feel with and assist those who are imprisoned and mistreated.  We must will to identify with the imprisoned and mistreated.  None of us can excuse ourselves by rationalizing that we are not empathetic by nature.  We are to labor at an imaginative sympathy through the power of God!

And let’s go beyond those who are in prison.  Raymond Brown reminds us, “Some patients in geriatric units would welcome regular visits from a Christian.  Are not such ‘isolated” people in greater need of the good news of Christ at the end of their lives than others who may often hear of him through everyday contacts with believers?  But shut-in people will hear only if they are remembered and visited by Christians who discern this neglected area of work as their opportunity for pastoral service and compassionate witness” (Raymond Brown, The Bible Speaks Today:  Hebrews, 252).

Honestly, it is far too easy to forget such people, whether people in prison or people in nursing homes or shut in at their own homes.  “Out of sight, out of mind,” we say.  But we should care for them because we are linked to them as brothers in Christ, because we share the same humanity and likely we also will share much of the same experiences.  Today it is them, tomorrow it may be us.

There is no way you can love others with this kind of sacrifice, commitment, compassion and grace without having your heart changed by Jesus Who exemplified it all.   Human nature simply does not have the capacity to do this without the presence of the Spirit of the Living God given through Jesus.  (Acts 16:33; Gal 5:6, 22; 2 Pt 1:7; 1 Jn 3:10-11, 14, 17; 4:7-21)

We have the capacity to love like this only because Jesus first loved us (1 John 4:19).  His infinite love for us is the source and stimulus of our love for each other.  Hence the precept given by the Master in the upper room: “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you” (Jn 13:34; cf. 15:12, 17; 2 Jn 5; 1 Jn 3:11, 14, 16-18; 4:7-12).  (Philip Edgcumbe Hughes, A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews, 562)

To understand Jesus’ teachings, we must realize that deep in our orientations of our spirit we cannot have one posture toward God and a different one toward other people.  We are a whole being, and our true character pervades everything we do.  We cannot, for example, love God and hate human beings.  As the apostle John wrote, “Those who do not love their brother who is visible cannot love God who is invisible” (1 Jn 4:20).  And: “The one who does not love does not know God, who is love” (4:8).

Similarly, James rules out the blessing of God and the cursing of human beings, “made in the likeness of God,” coming from the same mouth (3:9).  He also indicates that humility before God and humility before others go together.  Those humble before God do not “judge” their brothers and sisters (4:6-12).

The same basic point of the necessary unity of spiritual orientation is seen in Jesus’ teachings about forgiveness and about forgiveness and prayer.  “If you forgive men the wrongs they do you, your Father in the heavens will also forgive you.  But if you don’t, neither will he (Mt 6:14-15).  (Dallas Willard, The Divine Conspiracy, 232)

In summary, we are to stand at the foot of the two mountains—Sinai and Zion–and gaze reverently at God’s consuming fire and consuming love.  We are to drink it in with all its mysterious paradox—for in it lies the vision of God.

But having gazed upward we turn from the vertical to the horizontal, from the indicative to the imperative —the ethics of a life aglow with God.  And here we must will to obey the imperatives—God’s commands.

We must will to practice brotherly love, philadelphia: “Let brotherly love continue” (v. 1). We must will to contemplate the fact of our mutual generation, its profundity and eternity. Our words and actions must be committed to enhancing brotherly love.

We must will to practice love of hospitality, philozenia —a love for strangers: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares” (v. 2). Open hearts and open houses are the Christian way.  Hospitality builds the Body of Christ and opens the door to a lost world.

We must will to be empathetic, to be imaginatively sympathetic: “Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body” (v. 3).  The will to have imaginative sympathy will make our hearts like that of the Master and will encourage an authentic Christian walk.

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O How They Love One Another, part 2 (Hebrews 13:2)

Our author is focusing on helping his readers to enjoy Christian fellowship by continuing in brotherly love.

Let brotherly love continue. 2Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. 3Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body.

Now our author moves to two very practical ways in which we show that love to one another—through hospitality, inviting people into our homes, and through ministering to those in prison, who can no longer join our company.  Brotherly love must especially continue to brothers and sisters in need: strangers, prisoners, and victims of public mistreatment.

The general command (13:1) is linked to the second (v. 2) by vocabulary and syntax visible in the Greek original.  In both, nouns containing the stem phil– (“love”) open the clause and are then followed by verbs:

  1. Brother-love (philadelphia) let continue
  2. Stranger-love (philoxenia) do not neglect

The second command is then linked to the third (v. 3) through synonymous verbs: “do not neglect” (or lit., “do not forget”) states negatively what “remember” (mimnēskesthe) states positively.

The author immediately addresses the all-too-common error of close church communities becoming ingrown, exclusive, and cliquish.  To do this, the author intentionally juxtaposes two words that start out the same but end differently.  We are not only to maintain philidelphia, but also philoxenia.  Chances are, you’ve heard of xenophobia, the fear of “strangers” (xenos).  Those on the outside.  Foreigners.  People not like us.  Just as we are to love the brethren (philadelphia), we are to show love for strangers (philoxenia).  (Charles R. Swindoll, Swindoll’s Living Insights: Hebrews, 213)

The first example of brotherly love is “showing hospitality to strangers.”  Hospitality has always been one of the hallmarks of Christian community.  It was especially important in the early church, which was very mission-oriented.  As people went from place to place evangelizing the lost, they needed places to stay.  In addition, people traveled to network with other believers.

But travel was difficult and dangerous at that time.  There were few safe accommodations available.  Even in first-century Roman lands, widespread hostels, and inns were associated with filth, drunkenness, prostitution, robbery, and murder.

A little historical research shows that inns were proverbially miserable places from earliest antiquity on.  In Aristophanes’ The Frogs, Dionysus asks Heracles if he can tell him which inn has the fewest fleas.  Plato, in The Laws, instances an innkeeper keeping his guests hostage.  And Theophrastus puts innkeeping on the level of running a brothel (William Barclay, The Letter to the Hebrews (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1957), p. 218).

Thus inns were not congenial or healthy places for Christians.  This, coupled with the fact that many Christians had suffered ostracism by both society and family, necessitated Christian hospitality—which was happily provided by brothers and sisters who could do so.  Predictably, such hospitality was sometimes abused.  The first-century pagan satirical writer Lucian describes how his Elmer Gantry-like protagonist Proteus Peregrinus took advantage of naive Christians, reporting that “he left home, then, for a second time, to roam about, possessing an ample source of funds in the Christians, through whose ministrations he lived in unalloyed prosperity” (The Passing of Peregrinus, 16).

Significantly, such abuses became so common that the Didache, an early Christian handbook, gave this advice:

Let every Apostle who comes to you be received as the Lord, but let him not stay more than one day, or if need be a second as well; but if he stays three days, he is a false prophet.  And when an Apostle goes forth let him accept nothing but bread till he reach his night’s lodging; but if he ask for money, he is a false prophet.” (11:4–6) (Kirsopp Lake, trans., The Apostolic Fathers, vol. 1, The Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge, MA: Harvard, 1970), p. 327).

The effect of all this was that some Christians had noticeably cooled in their hospitality.  As the country song says: “Fool me once—shame on you! Fool me twice—shame on me!”

To counter this destructive trend among his congregation, the writer again frames his advice as a command: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers” (v. 2a)—or more exactly, “Do not forget to show love to strangers.”

We pat ourselves on the back if we invite friends over to a meal or take them out to a restaurant, but this is talking about going “above and beyond” by doing this with people we don’t know, people we might never see again, people who will not likely return the favor.

The word hospitality, philoxenia, literally means “love of strangers,” so it was likely these traveling missionaries who are in view.  Hospitality would meet their need of a place to lodge and get a meal or two.

This is expressed in the Apostle John’s third epistle:

5Beloved, it is a faithful thing you do in all your efforts for these brothers, strangers as they are, 6who testified to your love before the church.  You will do well to send them on their journey in a manner worthy of God. 7For they have gone out for the sake of the name, accepting nothing from the Gentiles. 8Therefore we ought to support people like these, that we may be fellow workers for the truth. (3 John 5-8)

In contrast, an apparent leader named Diotrephes showed his true heart by not showing hospitality to these traveling ministers.

9I have written something to the church, but Diotrephes, who likes to put himself first, does not acknowledge our authority. 10So if I come, I will bring up what he is doing, talking wicked nonsense against us.  And not content with that, he refuses to welcome the brothers, and also stops those who want to and puts them out of the church. (3 John 9-10)

Apparently Diotrephes was threatened by these traveling missionaries, thinking that their speaking abilities or some superior behaviors would challenge his position of authority.  So he was “excommunicating” those who were practicing hospitality!

These “strangers” to be entertained, however, were not to be people who worked against God’s kingdom; that is, believers were not to welcome false teachers into their homes.  2 John 10-11 says, “Do not receive into the house or welcome anyone who comes to you and does not bring this teaching; for to welcome is to participate in the evil deeds of such a person” (NRSV).  (Bruce Barton, Life Application Bible Commentary: Hebrews, 230)

Hospitality is a central virtue for Christians (Rom. 12:13; 1 Peter 4:9), which is why it is given as a requirement for elders in the church (1 Tim. 3:2).

To our author hospitality is so important that he tantalized his readers with the enchanting possibility —“for thereby some have entertained angels unawares” (v. 2b). 

Abraham “entertained angels” when he showed them “hospitality” (Gen. 18:1-3).  So did Lot (Gen. 19:1-3), Gideon (Judg. 6), and Manoah (Judg. 13). Hospitality is a concrete expression of Christian love today just as it was in the first century (cf. 3 John 5-8).

By presenting the delectable possibility of hosting a real angel, the preacher was not promoting hospitality on the chance that one might luck out and get an angel, but was simply saying that the possibility of its happening indicated how much God prizes hospitality in his people.  Bishop Westcott was right: “We only observe the outside surface of those whom we receive. More lies beneath than we can see” (Westcott, The Epistle to the Hebrews , p. 430).  However, notice that our text only says that “some have entertained angels,” not everyone.

Thomas Constable suggests that since the word “angel” means “messenger,” in both Greek and Hebrew, in one sense any time we entertain someone who brings a message from God (e.g., a visiting preacher or missionary) we entertain an angel.

Hospitality is a practical expression of love towards a person.  Inviting someone into your home breaks down barriers.  It could be the evangelistic secret of our age!  While it is difficult to get into other peoples’ homes today through door-to-door evangelism, it is much more likely that an unbeliever, or someone you are trying to build a relationship with, is willing to step into your own home.

Rosaria Champaign Butterfield was a tenured professor of English and women’s studies at Syracuse University.  In her late twenties, allured by feminist philosophy and LGBTQ+ politics, she adopted a lesbian identity.  In 1997, while Rosaria was researching the Religious Right “and their politics of hatred against people like me,” she wrote an article against The Promise Keepers. Local Reformed Presbyterian pastor Ken Smith responded graciously to that article.

The Smiths invited Rosaria to their home to discuss her research and answer questions she had.   Rosaria regularly met with Ken and his wife, Floy, over dinners in their home. Ken and Floy became a resource on the Religious Right and the Bible they loved.  Eventually, they became her confidantes. In 1999, after reading through the Bible multiple times under Ken and Floy’s care, Rosaria converted to Christianity.

She says that Pastor Ken Smith and his wife, Floy, didn’t share the gospel with her and didn’t invite her to church early in their relationship and how WONDERFUL that was for her.  It meant they didn’t see her as a project, but a neighbor.  She notes that she didn’t set foot in a church for 2 years but was in their house EVERY week and talking about all kinds of things opposed to Christianity.  Hospitality can have a powerful effect on those we invite into our homes!

If you look up our English word “hospitality” it means “treating strangers in a warm, friendly, generous way.” You receive someone you don’t know, who is not a part of your group – as a guest; so that they feel comfortable and at home.  This is the exact opposite of ignoring them, treating them rudely or making fun of them.

The model of hospitality is Abraham.  Hospitality was a high value in Jewish culture.  Abraham’s interaction with three angels who seemed to be just “passing by” shows us some important principles of hospitality.  It is found in Genesis 18.

And the Lord appeared to him by the oaks of Mamre, as he sat at the door of his tent in the heat of the day. He lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold, three men were standing in front of him. When he saw them, he ran from the tent door to meet them and bowed himself to the earth and said, “O Lord, if I have found favor in your sight, do not pass by your servant. Let a little water be brought, and wash your feet, and rest yourselves under the tree, while I bring a morsel of bread, that you may refresh yourselves, and after that you may pass on—since you have come to your servant.” So they said, “Do as you have said.” And Abraham went quickly into the tent to Sarah and said, “Quick! Three seahs of fine flour! Knead it, and make cakes.” And Abraham ran to the herd and took a calf, tender and good, and gave it to a young man, who prepared it quickly. Then he took curds and milk and the calf that he had prepared, and set it before them. And he stood by them under the tree while they ate.

Notice first that Abraham was seated “at the door of his tent in the heat of the day.”  I don’t know about you, but if it was the heat of the day, I would be inside.  But Abraham was outside.  Only there could he notice these “three men” outside his tent.

As with most ministry of Jesus in the New Testament, Abraham “lifted up his eyes and looked.”  We find that this is the first step in showing compassion in the Gospels.  Jesus first sees, then feels (compassion) and then acts.  Abraham does the same.  He notices these men.  In order to practice hospitality, we have to be on the lookout for the “strangers” in our midst, or the new people at our church.

Next, Abraham ran to meet them.  He took the initiative and he didn’t wait around for them to come to him, even though they were “standing in front of him” not too far away.  He didn’t assume that they would favor him with their presence.  He ran to meet them.  People will know that we are friendly if we take the initiative to go to them, introduce ourselves, find out a little about them, and invite them into our home or out to eat.

Not only that, but Abraham humbled himself before them.  He bowed down to the earth to show deference.  This was the first phase of positioning himself before them as a servant.  I’m not sure what the best equivalent for this is in our culture, but certainly it means that we position ourselves as servants, there to meet their needs.

Abraham then invited them to stay.  Since he is exercising hospitality out of his home, he “invited his guests in.”  He is expressing the same thing the disciples on the road to Emmaus did with Jesus, although he was at that moment a “stranger” to them,

28 So they drew near to the village to which they were going.  He acted as if he were going farther, 29but they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, for it is toward evening and the day is now far spent.” So he went in to stay with them.

And, of course, they received the blessing—having their eyes opened to His presence and having their hearts “burn” within them—all because they practiced hospitality.

We can see Abraham’s servant mentality in the actions he then took.  He offered water to wash their feet (v. 4), shade to rest under (v. 4), then he offered them some food (v. 5).  Abraham didn’t do it all himself, but mobilized his “team,” which included his wife and servants (vv. 6-7).  When it was all prepared and ready to eat, verse 8 says Abraham, “took curds and milk and the calf that he had prepared, and set it before them.  And he stood by them under the tree while they ate.”

In this case, Abraham didn’t eat all for the purpose of being readily available to serve his guests, more like a servant than the great and wealthy man that he was.  Remember, it was hot out and he had been resting.  But as soon as he saw them, he worked hard to make his home, their home.  And he sacrificed of what he had to do this.  I encourage you to follow the example of Abraham in providing hospitality to strangers and new people in your life.

What a difference this can make in someone’s life, just like Rosaria Champaign Butterfield.  In March 1990 Clark and Ann Peddicord, Campus Crusade for Christ representatives in Germany, gave this report in a personal letter:

Last week the former communist dictator, Erich Honecher, was released from the hospital where he had been undergoing treatment for cancer. There is probably no single person in all of East Germany that is more despised and hated than he. He has been stripped of all his offices and even his own communist party has kicked him out. He was booted out of the villa he was living in; the new government refused to provide him and his wife with accommodation. They stood, in essence, homeless on the street. . . . It was Christians who stepped in. Pastor Uwe Holmer, who is in charge of a Christian help-center north of Berlin, was asked by Church leaders if he would be willing to take them in. Pastor Holmer and his family decided that it would be wrong to give away a room in the center that would be used for needy people, or an apartment that their staff needed; instead, they took the former dictator and his wife into their own home. It must have been a strange scene when the old couple arrived. The former absolute ruler of the country was being sheltered by one of the Christians whom he and his wife had despised and persecuted. In East Germany there is a great deal of hate toward the former regime and especially toward Honecher and his wife, Margot, who had ruled the educational system there for 26 years with an iron hand. She had made sure that very few Christian children were able to go on for higher education. There are ten children in the Holmer family and eight of them had applied for further education in the course of the past years: all had been refused a place at college because they were Christians, in spite of the fact that they had good or excellent grades in school. Pastor Holmer was asked why he and his family would open their door to such detestable people. . . . Pastor Holmer spoke very clearly, “Our Lord challenged us to follow him and to take in all who are weary and heavy laden—both in soul and in body. . . .”(Reported by George Cowan to Campus Crusade at the U.S. Division Meeting Devotions, Thursday, March 22, 1990).

The story is a miracle, for no one, apart from the grace of God and the example of Christ and the instruction of the New Testament, would thought of doing such a thing.  Pastor Holmer was certainly informed by God’s Word, and perhaps even the teaching here of 13:2—“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”

O How They Love One Another, part 1 (Hebrews 13:1)

We are now in Hebrews 13, the last chapter and final message of the book of Hebrews.  Having dealt with theological topics, particularly how Christ and the New Covenant supersedes the Mosaic covenant and the sacrifices, now our author turns to consider some of the core aspects of how to live a holy life.

As is common in other NT epistles (e.g., Romans 12-15), the author concludes the letter with a series of specific moral exhortations.  The change can be expressed in many ways—from exposition to exhortation, from creed to conduct, from doctrine to duty, from the indicative to the imperative.  Our New Testament authors always point out what God has done for us before telling us what we must now do for God.  This characteristic change actually took place in Hebrews in the shift between chapters 11 and 12 where the writer began to exhort his people regarding their duty to run the great race marked out for them.

I’ve always considered the third part of Hebrews to be neatly outlined with what has been historically called “the three theological virtues” of faith, hope, and love.  Chapter 11 presents a procession of men and women of faith worthy of emulation.   Chapter 12 sets forth warnings and essential advice to help believers stand strong in hope to endure the marathon of the Christian life.   Now, in chapter 13, the author examines the Christian’s life of love for God and love for others.  (Charles R. Swindoll, Swindoll’s Living Insights: Hebrews, 211)

After the warning that concludes chapter 12, the author moves back to the practical commands of chapter 13.  Look at the verse which immediately precedes, and remember that when this epistle was first written there were no chapter-breaks: 12:29 and 13:1 read consecutively, without any hiatus–“our God is a consuming fire: let brotherly love continue!” (Arthur W. Pink, An Exposition of Hebrews, 11).

So now we move from fire to function —from vertical to horizontal —from love for God to love for the church.

The implication is clear: what we think about God has everything to do with our relationship to each other and with the world.  For example, this logic is built into the very structure of the Ten Commandments.  The first four are penetratingly vertical and theological, followed by six that are intensely horizontal and ethical.  This is why worship is so important—because a proper grasp of God guides our behavior in the world.  Orthodoxy (right beliefs) should lead to doxology (worship of God in truth) and then to orthopraxy (right living).

So as our author finishes his letter, he states some specific points of application for the community (vv. 1-19), invokes a word of blessing (vv. 20-21), and greets the community (vv. 22-25).

The epistolary closing begins with a series of brief ethical directives.  These commands address three spheres: relationships with other believers, especially sufferers (Heb. 13:1-3); the meeting of physical needs (sexual and financial) in submission to and trust in God (vv. 4-6); and leadership transitions in the congregation (vv. 7-8). 

The brevity of the commands is more evident in Greek (many are only three or four words) than in English: “Let brotherly love continue” translates a Greek noun (with article) and a verb; “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers” reflects a noun (with article), a negative particle, and a verb; and “Let marriage be held in honor” reflects an adjective and noun (with article).

Most of these commands are supported by rationales for obeying. For example, hospitality should be extended to strangers because “thereby some have entertained angels unawares” (v. 2); marriage should be honored because God will punish adulterers (v. 4); we should not crave money because God will never forsake us (vv. 5-6).

So let’s look today at verses 1-3.

Let brotherly love continue. 2Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. 3Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body.

The first three verses of Hebrews 13 set the tone of the rest of this “love” chapter. (Charles R. Swindoll, Swindoll’s Living Insights: Hebrews, 212)  Our writer identifies three aspects of brotherly love, and devotes the first sentences of this pastoral exhortation to stress the importance of love’s necessary continuance, its generous expression in Christian hospitality, and its practical responsibility in caring for prisoners and the afflicted.  (Raymond Brown, The Bible Speaks Today:  Hebrews, 248).

These first three imperatives summon hearers to costly care for fellow Christians, particularly those in special need: strangers who need lodging, and believers enduring chains or mistreatment for Christ.

But the most basic and fundamental command insists that the practice of brotherly love (philadelphia) must “continue” across the whole congregation (cf. Rom. 12:10; 1 Thess. 4:9; 1 Pet. 1:22; 2 Pet. 1:7).  The Greek word here is philadelphia, and that city’s name means “brotherly love.”  In the New Testament’s understanding of the Christian faith as a family of brothers and sisters, it refers to “affection for a fellow Christian.”

In the Greek language there were four words for love.

  • Eros was one word for love. It described, as we might guess from the word itself, erotic love, referring to sexual love.
  • Storge was a second word for love. It is not used in the New Testament but referred to family love, the kind of love there is between a parent and child or between family members in general.
  • Agape is the most powerful word for love in the New Testament, and was often used to describe God’s love towards us. It is a love that loves without changing. It is a self-giving love that gives without demanding or expecting re-payment.  It is a love that works for the good of another person even when that person deserves to be hated and can never repay, but you do it even at great personal cost.
  • But the word here is phile, a word that speaks of brotherly friendship and affection.  It is the love of deep friendship and partnership.

For Christians, the common bond of union is Jesus Christ.  Our relationship with Him, established by the Holy Spirit, makes us all children of the Father, which in turn makes us spiritual “brothers and sisters.”  This kind of love demands something from each of us.  We’re not just attending spiritual meetings during the same time slot; we’re members of a body.  (Charles R. Swindoll, Swindoll’s Living Insights: Hebrews, 213)

“Let brotherly love continue.”  It is a universal command, applying to every fellow believer.  This is the big picture idea for how and why we look out for those around us and not just for ourselves.  It is also a present tense command, meaning that it is command that love to continue on and on.

Louis Evans notes that “The Greek verb is menetō, from monien, “to remain,” from which we get our word “monument.”  Let brotherly love stand unmovable and uneroded by the weather of history” (Louis H. Evans, Jr., The Communicator’s Commentary: Hebrews, 240).

The NIV translates this verse as “Keep on loving one another as brothers and sisters.”  That translation communicates well why we love.  It is because we are brothers and sisters to one another, because we belong to the same family.  We are linked together as a spiritual family.  We have a bond that is even stronger and tighter than biological bonds.

In the past, the hearers have shown love for God’s name by serving the saints (Heb. 6:9-10; cf. 10:32-34).  R. Kent Hughes describes:

At first, this love had come to those new believers as naturally as one’s first steps, very much like Paul’s allusion to the similar experience of the Thessalonians: “Now concerning brotherly love [philadelphia] you have no need for anyone to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another” (1 Thessalonians 4:9).  For these new Christians, loving other believers was as easy as falling off a log.  They could not wait to get to church where they could drink in the fellowship of the godly.  The fellowship of their new brothers and sisters was delectably mysterious to them, and they rejoiced in plumbing the depth of each other’s souls” (R. Kent Hughes, Hebrews: Volume 2, pp. 206-207).

But apparently there had been an evident flagging of brotherly affection among the members of the tiny Jewish congregation as it rode the increasingly hostile seas of Roman culture.  History and experience show that persecution and the accompanying sense of dissonance with pagan and secular culture can bring two opposite effects.  One is to draw God’s people together, but the other is to promote disaffection. 

R. Kent Hughes relates the following incident as an example:

In the 1830s two New York Christians, Reverend John McDowall and Mr. Arthur Tappan, were drawn together in their battle against the abuse of women fallen to prostitution, and the two men formed the Magdalen Society.  But when their work began to probe too close to the heart of New York society, both found that they could “scarcely go into a hotel, or step for a moment on board a steamboat, without being annoyed by . . . angry hissing” (Marvin Olasky, Abortion Rites (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 1992), p. 140, which quotes from John McDowall, Magdalen Facts Number 1 (New York: Magdalen Society, 1832), p. 33).  This, along with threats from Tammany Hall and derisive newspaper coverage that branded Mr. Tappan as “Arthur D. Fanaticus,” brought immense stress upon the two men, which served to exacerbate their differences and finally ended their friendship (Olasky, Abortion Rites, pp. 140–142).

It doesn’t take persecution from the outside for brotherly love to disappear, however.  Friction and conflict between brothers and sisters in Christ can do that as well.  That love and affection is eroded when we fight with one another.

What impedes brotherly love?  What derails it?  What suffocates it?  In a word, selfishness, wanting things to please me, to go my way.  I remember years ago attending a Weekend to Remember by Family Life and they said that the chief enemy of the marriage relationship is selfishness.

Selfishness is to be focused on, preoccupied with, in love with, concerned with—self.  It is the characteristic of a heart that is turned inward upon itself.  We love self, preserve self, honor self, serve self, and defend self.  That is quite natural for us until God’s Spirit begins to produce a love for God and others in our hearts.

Erik Raymond asks: What impedes brotherly love in the church?  We could list 500 things but here are five big ones.

1. Isolation from others.  Regrettably some Christians do not make the Lord’s Day gathering a high priority.  What’s more, some have very little contact with other believers during the week.  It is very difficult to love other people when we are not with them.  This also reveals a selfishness that we know suffocates brotherly love: “Whoever isolates himself seeks his own desire….” (Prov. 18:1)

2. Disengagement.  When we are with our brothers and sisters we must be present with them.  It is not enough to physically be there we must actually be there.  Consider a holiday gathering where Grandma is talking about her health or some stories from her youth only to have someone sitting there a few feet away scanning Facebook, reading the news, or playing Candy Crush?  In order to do the requisite heart work in the church family we must be present not only physically but mentally, emotionally, and most importantly–spiritually.  Are you present with your church family?

3. Superficiality.  We have to remember that Christian love, at its heart, is a redemptive love.  This means that it is rooted in God saving us from our sin.  This includes the sin of selfishness.  When we love others we are to be helping them to become more like Jesus Christ.  If we are superficial, and by this I mean talking about all kinds of surface items, we will never get to the matters of the heart, the stuff that really matters.  Superficiality will prevent the type of redemptive love that irritates (in the right sense) our sinful preoccupation with ourselves.

4. Unresolved conflict.  When people have something against a brother or sister and they do not deal with the problem it creates a wedge in the relationship.  Unresolved conflict builds walls in relationships.  Each day that passes is another brick in the wall of separation.  When we do not deal with conflict we have to understand that we are neither loving God nor are we loving our brothers.  We are not loving God because we refuse to obey his commands and we are not loving our brother or sister because we do not care enough about holiness in their lives to actually speak with them about it.  I am sure you can see how this is self-worship instead of God worship.

5. Gossip.  This is talking about someone behind their back rather than going and talking to the person.  Often times it is the defaming of the character by spreading lies about them.  With gossip the heart bent in on itself attempts to rid itself of any competition by cutting other people down with their tongues.  Instead of speaking the truth in love gossipers speak lies in pride.

On the night before he was crucified our Lord washed his disciples’ feet.  The king of the universe took on the culturally lowest form of a servant and he bathed their feet.  This was demonstrating the type of service he has for his people.  And, it was to be the type of service that is to characterize his followers.  Indeed, their brotherly love was a telltale sign of their salvation.  As the Apostle John would later write: “We know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love the brothers” (1 John 3:14).  Their impulse to brotherly love provided a sweet, inner self-authentication. It also announced to the world that their faith was the real thing, for Jesus said…

“A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.  By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

Following Jesus’ example, who did not come to be ministered to but to minister, we should lose ourselves in the sustained, sympathetic, and loving care of others (John MacArthur Jr., The MacArthur NT Commentary: Hebrews, 428).

Francis Schaeffer, in his book The Mark of a Christian, tells us that love if the badge of true disciples.  He says its as if Jesus turns to the world and says, “I’ve got something to say to you.   On the basis of my authority, I give you a right: you may judge whether or not an individual is a Christian on the basis of the love he shows to all Christians” (Jn 13:33-35) (Francis Schaeffer; The Mark of the Christian, 13).

If I fail in my love toward Christians, it does not prove I am not a Christian.   What Jesus is saying, however, is that, if I do not have the love I should have toward all other Christians, the world has the right to make the judgment that I am not a Christian (Francis Schaeffer; The Mark of the Christian, 13-14).  The world will likely conclude that I am not a Christian.

What a glorious phenomenon brotherly love is—a sense of the same paternity (a brotherly and sisterliness taught by God, a desire to climb into each other’s souls), a sweet inner authentication, and the sign of the real thing to the world.

If that brotherly love is still there, our author wants them to fan it into flame so that it would burn brighter and brighter and continue on and on.  If it was in danger of going out, he is encouraging them (and us) to resurrect that love, that brotherly love for one another.  If you have grown weary of other believers in your church, if something has stuck in your craw and you cannot forgive, then pray and ask God to restore your brotherly affection for that brother or sister.

This is a choice you can make.  If you act in agape love towards that person, you will find your heart strangely warmed towards them.  We must will to love one another. George Whitefield and John Wesley did this even though they disagreed in matters of theology. Whitefield’s words say it all:

My honored friend and brother . . . hearken to a child who is willing to wash your feet. I beseech you, by the mercies of God in Christ Jesus our Lord, if you would have my love confirmed toward you . . . Why should we dispute, when there is no possibility of convincing? Will it not, in the end, destroy brotherly love, and insensibly take from us that cordial union and sweetness of soul, which I pray God may always subsist between us? How glad would the enemies of our Lord be to see us divided. . . . Honored sir, let us offer salvation freely to all by the blood of Jesus, and whatever light God has communicated to us, let us freely communicate to others.

The mark of a disciple is loving your spiritual siblings.  Clearly, we do need to love unbelievers, but that is not where love begins.  It begins with our family and we should love our family well and love them consistently.

Our God is a Consuming Fire, part 2 (Hebrews 12:28-29)

The last warning in the book of Hebrews is found in the final verses of Hebrew 12.

25 See that you do not refuse him who is speaking. For if they did not escape when they refused him who warned them on earth, much less will we escape if we reject him who warns from heaven.  26 At that time his voice shook the earth, but now he has promised, “Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.”  27 This phrase, “Yet once more,” indicates the removal of things that are shaken—that is, things that have been made—in order that the things that cannot be shaken may remain.  28 Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe,  29 for our God is a consuming fire.

Today we are at the conclusion of this warning, to the writer’s exhortation as to how we are to respond to “him who is speaking” (which is God) and in the context of the fact that while the law of Moses came with shaking ground, this message through Jesus Christ (the New Covenant), involves “not only the earth but also the heavens” shaking.  It is a pretty frightening picture.  In light of that our author concludes:

28 Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe,  29 for our God is a consuming fire.

The word “therefore” indicates that it is precisely because God will shake and purge and judge all that stands in opposition to him and precisely because only the unshakeable kingdom of Christ will stand immovable and unchanged that we should give thanks and praise God for the gift of saving grace.

Throughout this epistle, although he is dealing with some people who had professed belief in Jesus Christ only now to turn away from Him and His benefits and back to the law, our author includes himself as someone needing to “be grateful.”  So he says, “let us be grateful.”

The kingdom we have received that “cannot be shaken” is the messianic kingdom.  We “receive” this “kingdom” when we trust in Christ for our salvation.  It is a kingdom that we New Covenant believers participate in partially, in the spiritual benefits of the New Covenant, but there is a greater, fuller kingdom that will be established on earth when Jesus returns, as predicted in the Old Testament and confirmed in Revelation 20.  This kingdom will then continue throughout eternity in the new heavens and new earth.

In 12:28 he said that it is “a kingdom which cannot be shaken.”  This means that it will outlast all earthly kingdoms.  Because it is God’s kingdom, it will remain “forever and ever” (1:8).  Every earthly kingdom that has been established has eventually fallen to other, more powerful, kingdoms.  This is pictured for us in Daniel’s interpretation of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream in Daniel 2 when each kingdom is conquered by the other, first Babylon, then Medo-Persia, then Greece, then Rome, but then we read…

“And in the days of those kings the God of heaven will set up a kingdom that shall never be destroyed, nor shall the kingdom be left to another people.  It shall break in pieces all these kingdoms and bring them to an end, and it shall stand forever, just as you saw that a stone was cut from a mountain by no human hand, and that it broke in pieces the iron, the bronze, the clay, the silver, and the gold.  A great God has made known to the king what shall be after this.  The dream is certain, and its interpretation sure.” (Daniel 2:44-45)

Spurgeon exclaims

“Glory be to God, our kingdom cannot be moved!  Not even dynamite can touch our dominion: no power in the world, and no power in hell, can shake the kingdom which the Lord has given to his saints.  With Jesus as our monarch we fear no revolution and no anarchy: for the Lord hath established this kingdom upon a rock, and it cannot be moved or removed.”

The idea of God’s kingdom is not a major theme in Hebrews.  The author mentioned it in 1:8, citing Psalm 45:6, “But of the Son he says, ‘Your throne, O God, is forever and ever, the scepter of uprightness is the scepter of your kingdom.’”  But while the word “kingdom” is not used, the concept is certainly behind his references to “Mount Zion,” “the city of the living God,” and “the heavenly Jerusalem” (12:22).

The word “receive” reinforces that we do not work to merit this kingdom.  It is a gift that God freely bestows on all that believe.

Our response to receiving this kingdom, which will actually be the fulfillment of our greatest desires and dreams, should be gratitude. Our author is exhorting them to show gratitude for the gift they have received. Being grateful is so important to our spiritual lives.  It is interesting that the nouns “grace” and “joy,” and the verb “give thanks,” all come from the same root word (Char-).  I believe that these three terms are vitally related, so that when God shows us grace, as He does so often, we need to give thanks for that grace.  If we do, we will experience greater joy, while we will forfeit that joy if we fail to give thanks.

If we have experienced God’s grace, we should be thankful.  Our service to God is never an attempt to “pay Him back” for His grace, which would be impossible.  Rather, it is the overflow of a heart that is so grateful that it gives thanks “for His indescribable gift” (2 Cor. 9:15).

The failure to give thanks in itself is an evidence of lack of belief in God.  In the book of Romans Paul declares

18 For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth. 19 For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. 20 For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse. 21 For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. (Romans 1:18-21)

To fail to give thanks is to dishonor God and leads to great spiritual ruin.

In addition to giving thanks, we must “offer to God acceptable worship.”  Our worship is to be offered “to God” first of all, not to any other so-called god or idol.  He alone desires and deserves our worship.

But what is worship?  The Greek word here is latreuo, and has the idea of serving God through worship.  Our English word “worship” has the idea of proclaiming one’s worth and value (worth-ship).  We show God His value by serving Him.

In the Scriptures, latreuo is continuously used in reference to religious rituals, and in every single use of the word, worshipers direct their service toward God or something considered a god or divine.  The most precise and consistent definition of this word is “sacrificial service.”

The word latreuo indicates a kind of worship, but latreuo is not completely synonymous with the term “worship.”

Our text says that we must offer to God “acceptable worship.”  Obviously this means there is unacceptable worship, something God charged Israel with many times, usually because of idolatry or social sins like taking advantage of the poor.

Romans 12 speaks of acceptable worship.  There, in verse 1, Paul commands us “to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.”

David Guzik points out some ways that our worship can be acceptable to God in this context.  He says…

  • Our acceptable service begins with our being receivers of grace (since we are receiving a kingdom).
  • Our acceptable service is marked by gratitude (let us have thanks).
  • Our acceptable service is marked by reverence (with reverence).
  • Our acceptable service is marked by the spirit of happy reverence (with godly fear).
  • Our acceptable service is marked by a profound sense of the divine holiness (for our God is a consuming fire).

Let’s dive a little deeper into these conditions of acceptable worship, “with reverence and awe.”  These words are used in view of the serious consequences of refusing God who is speaking to them through the blood of Jesus Christ and the fact the coming statement that “our God is a consuming fire.”  Of course, you should worship “with reverence and awe.”  The unfortunate reality in our day is that we see far too little reverence and awe.  Jesus is treated as a “Friend” and “Lover.”  There is little thought to God being our “Judge,” for example.

“Reverence” (eulabeia) is “a cautious taking hold and careful and respectful handling: hence piety of a devout and circumspect character.”  This is joined with another word, “awe” (NIV, NRSV) or “godly fear” (KJV, deos), “fear, awe” … “apprehension of danger,” as in a strange forest.

But this does not mean we live in terror or dread of God, as if in the next moment He might strike us dead with a bolt of lightning.  F. F. Bruce (Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews [Eerdmans], p. 385) comments, “Reverence and awe before His holiness are not incompatible with grateful trust and love in response to His mercy.”

Greg Morse, in his article “Casual Church,” asks “What happened to reverence?  When did it become an endangered species?  Has God not the right to ask many professing Christians today, as he did the negligent priests of Israel, ‘A son honors his father, and a servant his master. If then I am a father, where is my honor?  And if I am a master, where is my fear?’” (Malachi 1:6)

He goes on to say: “I sigh that I don’t often have this fear or due reverence in the worship of God.  In his presence, Isaiah cried, “Woe is me! For I am lost” (Isaiah 6:5).  Job cried, “Now my eye sees you; therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes” (Job 42:5-6).  Peter cried, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord” (Luke 5:8).  The beloved disciple writes, “When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead” (Revelation 1:17).

God is our loving Father to whom we are invited to draw near (Heb. 4:16), but He is also “a consuming fire” (12:29).  Probably most Christians in our day err on the side of being too chummy and casual with God, not on the side of reverence and awe.  It is important that we hold these truths in balance.

As Sam Storms recommends:

There are times when what we hear and learn of God leads to dancing, and other times when what we hear and learn of him leads to trembling.  Worship that is acceptable to God can and should be both humble and happy, and should often lead us not only to leap with joy but also to lie prostrate on the ground in reverential awe.

Verse 29 gives us the reason why our worship of God must be “with reverence and awe” and that is because “our God is a consuming fire.”  It’s not that he “was” a consuming fire in the Old Testament, a God of wrath now replaced by a God of love who wouldn’t dare judge us for our sins.  No, He is still a consuming fire.

Jerry Bridges reminds us…

“We must not lose sight of the fact that God’s wrath is very real and very justified. We have all sinned incessantly against a holy, righteous God.  We have rebelled willfully against His commands, defied His moral law, and acted in total defiance of His known will for us.  Because of these actions were justly objects of His wrath” (Trusting God, 1988, p. 139).

That fire is the fire of His wrath against sin.  Yes, God’s holiness and righteousness requires Him to respond to our sins with righteous anger.  That fire is also the fire of jealousy.  Because God loves us so much He will brook no rivals for our affections.

The reason that we should be thankful for what we have received from God and the reason we should worship him with reverence and awe and joy and gladness is precisely because our God is a jealous God who burns with passion for us.

The first reference to God’s jealousy is found in God’s words to Israel at Mount Sinai:

“You shall not make for yourself a carved image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and the fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing steadfast love to thousands of those who love me and keep my commandments” (Exodus 20:4-6)

He said, “Don’t do this ‘for I the Lord your God am a jealous God.’”

And Exodus 34:14 says, “For you shall worship no other god, for the Lord, whose name is Jealous, is a jealous God.”

Now, God is not jealous like we are.  God is a holy God and is never sinfully jealous.  He is never jealous because he is needy, greedy, or covetous, or because he is lazy and unwilling to put forth the effort necessary to accomplish his purposes.  God is not jealous because he takes a petty dislike to certain individuals and begrudges their achievements, or because he is frustrated with his position in the universe.

All this reminds us that worship is “not safe.”  We are not to treat it with lightness.  Annie Dillard described the seriousness of our worship in these words:

Why do people in church seem like cheerful, brainless tourists on a packaged tour of the Absolute? … Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning.  It is madness to wear ladies’ straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets.   Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews.  For the sleeping god may wake someday and take offense, or the waking god may draw us to where we can never return” (Annie Dillard, Teaching a Stone to Talk: Expeditions and Encounters (New York: Harper & Row, 1982), pp. 40-41).

How would our worship services change if the Nadabs and Abihus of our day were struck dead and carried out through the aisles of our churches?

If wails of horror resounded and scorched sermons read,

Here, O Christian churches, are two corpses of those who trifled with the Consuming Fire of heaven and earth.  Two men of high rank, two men of great promise, two sons of Aaron himself, consumed in judgment.  Behold them.  Wail for them.  Learn from them.

Read the sermon text written upon their lifeless frames:

“Among those who are near me I will be sanctified, and before all the people I will be glorified” (Leviticus 10:3).

Ministers, you who draw near to God in service today, behold them drunk upon my wrath.  Will you dare toy with the shepherd’s crook?  Will you wander before me with the strange fire of false teaching?  Have you not been warned of stricter judgment?  Have you not been commanded to watch over yourself and your doctrine and my sheep carefully?  Have you not been charged — in my presence — to preach my word, not your own?  The pulpit is a false hope for protection.

Or to those strolling into worship every Sunday with an irreverence, a negligence, a fatal familiarity that I did not command: Behold the bodies of my chosen servants.  If I treat these with righteous impartiality, shall you escape? (https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/casual-church)

As Matthew Henry soberly comments, “If God be not sanctified and glorified by us, he will be sanctified and glorified upon us.  He will take vengeance on those that profane his sacred name by trifling with him.”  Let us beware of trifling with God and treating Him lightly.

As Steve Cole concludes:

Everything hinges on knowing who God is and what He has done for us by His grace in Christ.  He has given us great privileges, by speaking to us from heaven through Jesus’ blood, and by giving us a kingdom that cannot be shaken.  He is the great God, whose voice will shake both earth and heaven.  He is a consuming fire.  So we have great responsibilities: we should take heed to serve Him with obedient, grateful, and reverent hearts.

Our God is a Consuming Fire, part 1 (Hebrews 12:25-27)

Throughout the book of Hebrews, our author has been trying to encourage his audience not to abandon faith alone in Jesus Christ alone.  His fear is that those who were raised up in Judaism would be attracted back to the legalistic method of salvation—trying to be righteous, to be good enough.  Throughout the book, the preacher has been warning them—a total of five times—not to go back to the ineffective legal system of offerings and sacrifices and external holiness.  But trying to pursue holiness in our own strength is like fighting in quicksand.  The more you try, the worse shape you end up in. 

Today we come to this last warning.  It is found in the last portion of Hebrews 12.

25 See that you do not refuse him who is speaking. For if they did not escape when they refused him who warned them on earth, much less will we escape if we reject him who warns from heaven.  26 At that time his voice shook the earth, but now he has promised, “Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.”  27 This phrase, “Yet once more,” indicates the removal of things that are shaken—that is, things that have been made—in order that the things that cannot be shaken may remain.  28 Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, 29 for our God is a consuming fire.

R. Kent Hughes reminds us that…

During Christianity’s second century, a notable heretic by the name of Marcion came to power in Asia Minor.  Though he was excommunicated early on, his destructive teaching lingered for nearly two centuries.  Marcion taught the total incompatibility of the Old and New Testaments.  He believed there was a radical discontinuity between the God of the Old Testament and the God of the New Testament—between the Creator and the Father of Jesus.  So Marcion created a new Bible for his followers that had no Old Testament and a severely hacked-up New Testament that consisted of only one Gospel (an edited version of Luke) and ten select and edited Pauline epistles (excluding the Pastorals).  His views were spelled out in his book Antitheses, which set forth the alleged contradictions between the Testaments.  Tertullian in his famous Against Marcion wrote a five-volume refutation.

But Marcionism never completely died out, and in the nineteenth century, especially, with the rise of liberalism, it underwent a revival among those who wished to separate what they considered to be the crude and primitive parts of the Old Testament from the New.  Friedrich Schleiermacher, the eighteenth- and nineteenth-century father of liberalism, said the Old Testament has a place in the Christian heritage only by virtue of its connections with Christianity.  He felt it should be no more than an appendix of historical interest.  Adolph Harnack argued that the Reformers should have dropped it from the canon of authoritative writings.  Likewise, there are thousands today who have rejected the Old Testament either formally or in practice.

The error of this kind of approach was pointed out by another liberal, Albert Schweitzer, who demonstrated that such thinking amounts to choosing aspects of God that fit one’s man-made theology.  Men project their own thoughts about God back up to him and create a god of their own thinking.  Anyone who is in touch with modern culture knows that this kind of reasoning—Marcionism—is alive and well.

You see this today in those people who only want to focus on God’s love—that God is love and accepts everyone no matter how they are living their lives in sin.  Hughes goes on to say…

What does this have to do with us who hold both Testaments to be the inerrant, infallible Word of God?  Very much!  You see, Marcionism is subtly alive in the evangelical enterprise’s understanding of God.  Of course, it is true that the New Testament gives us a fuller revelation of God and that we do not live under the Old Testament.  Nevertheless, the God we worship is still the same God.  But, sadly, many Christians today are so ignorant of their Bibles, especially the Old Testament, that they have a tragically sentimentalized idea of God—one that amounts to little more than a Deity who died to meet their needs; the sin question is minimized or ignored.  The result is the incredible paradox of evangelicals who “know Jesus” but who do not know who God is—unwitting Marcionites! (Hebrews, Volume 2, pp. 197-198)

The remedy for this travesty is the Bible as a whole, specifically both Sinai in the old covenant and Zion in the new covenant—each of which present a vision of God.

From Mount Sinai we learn, in Moses’ words, that God is” a consuming fire”—“Take care, lest you forget the covenant of the LORD your God. . . . For the LORD your God is a consuming fire, a jealous God” (Deuteronomy 4:23, 24).  The vision is spectacular—a mountaintop raging with “fire to the heart of heaven” (Deuteronomy 4:11)—cloaked with a deep darkness—lightning illuminating golden arteries in the clouds—celestial rams’ horns overlaying the thunder with mournful blasts—the ground shaking as God’s voice intones the Ten Commandments.  God is transcendentally “other,” perfectly good and holy.  He radiates wrath and judgment against sin. God is unapproachable.

We still need this vision of God today.  God hasn’t changed.  He is still “a consuming fire.”  God’s wrath against sin still burns.  We trivialize God as a God who is just there to meet our needs when we fail to remember that He is still a God who judges sin and sinners.

According to Deuteronomy 4:24 God is a consuming fire because He is “a jealous God.”  His jealousy burns because He deeply loves us and will brook no rivals for our affection.  The jealousy of Yahweh is His profoundly intense drive within to protect the interest of His own glory (Exodus 20:4-6; Ezekiel 39:25), for He will admit no derogation from His majesty.

John Piper, in a sermon entitled, “The Lord Whose Names is Jealous,” says, “The jealousy of God for your undivided love and devotion will always have the last say.  Whatever lures your affections away from God with deceptive attraction will come back to strip you bare and cut you in pieces (Eze. 16:38-40).  It is a horrifying thing to use your God-given life to commit adultery against the Almighty.  But for those of you who have been truly united to Christ and who keep your vows to forsake all others and cleave only to Him and live for His honor – for you the jealousy of God is a great comfort and a great hope.  Since God is infinitely jealous for the honor of His name, anything and anybody who threatens the good of His faithful wife will be opposed with divine omnipotence.

We need to remember this, even as New Covenant Christians, we must remember that the God we trust in for our salvation through Jesus Christ is a God who is jealous for our affection and allegiance and burns with jealous wrath when that is betrayed.  Sin is not primarily legal; it is primarily relational.  We break God’s heart when we sin.

Awareness of God’s holiness and the depth of our sin is the precondition of personal renewal.  (Richard Lovelace; Renewal As a Way of Life, 10)  We need to embrace the bad news about ourselves before the good news of the gospel will be desirable to us.

Of course, we also just as vitally need the vision of God at Mount Zion.  A God of love who did not spare His only Son, the Son He loves, in order to die on the cross for our sins.  There on the cross we see God the Son dying for our sins and extending forgiveness to all who will believe in him, trusting his work alone for salvation. 

Both mountains reveal the truth about God.  We cannot deny them or separate them.  Both visions must be held in blessed tension within our souls—consuming fire and consuming love. This will save us from the damning delusion of Marcion!  The massive dual revelation of the mountains is meant to shape our pilgrimage.  The question we must ask is, how then are we to march?  What are we to do?  The answer?  Obey and worship.

We ought to obey because God’s word is undeniably effectual: “See that you do not refuse him who is speaking. For if they did not escape when they refused him who warned them on earth, much less will we escape if we reject him who warns from heaven” (v. 25).

The writer shifts now from exposition to exhortation.  He wants them to stick with Jesus Christ.  The writer uses two synonyms to emphasize the direction they were heading in the words “refused” and “reject.”  Refusing could be the more polite term here, with the idea of “begging off” from a former agreement.  Rejecting is the stronger term, emphasizing an action “turning around” in the opposite direction.

Verse 25 is telling us that God’s Word will have the last say.  Whatever it promises or warns about will happen.

This is what is called in logic an a fortiori argument (or what the Hebrews called the Qal wa-ḥomer argument); it is an argument that argues that what is true in the lesser case will be even more true in the greater. 

In the lesser case, God’s earthly (“on earth”) warning at Sinai first suffered subtle refusal by the Israelites when they “beg[ged] that no further messages be spoken to them” (12:19; cf. Exodus 20:19)—though their refusal there at Sinai was more from fear than from outright rejection of God.  However, in the years that followed, they explicitly refused God’s word by repeated disobedience during the four decades of wandering in the wilderness.  So grievous was their disobedience that Numbers 14:29 records that God pronounced judgment in that everyone who was twenty and older would die in the desert.  And, indeed, none did escape except faithful Caleb and Joshua.  A million plus corpses littered the floor of the desert.

Considering the inescapable penalty for disobeying God’s earthly message, how much greater will the penalty be in the greater instance of disobeying his heavenly message of grace through his Son (cf. 1:2)?  The implication is that there will be no escaping the punishment justly due for this rejection.

Simply put, the greater the revelation, the greater the responsibility to obey it.  Jesus acknowledged this when he said to the Galileans in His day (Matthew 11:20-24):

20 Then he began to denounce the cities where most of his mighty works had been done, because they did not repent. 21 “Woe to you, Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the mighty works done in you had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes. 22 But I tell you, it will be more bearable on the day of judgment for Tyre and Sidon than for you. 23 And you, Capernaum, will you be exalted to heaven? You will be brought down to Hades. For if the mighty works done in you had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day. 24 But I tell you that it will be more tolerable on the day of judgment for the land of Sodom than for you.”

By making this choice and the consequences crystal clear to his readers, the writer hopes to turn them from this path of turning from Jesus Christ back to law keeping.

This, of course, has been the writer’s message all along.  In 2:3a he warned, “How shall we escape if we neglect such a great salvation?”  Later in 10:28, 29 he said much the same thing, emphasizing greater punishment:

Anyone who has set aside the law of Moses dies without mercy on the evidence of two or three witnesses. How much worse punishment, do you think, will be deserved by the one who has trampled underfoot the Son of God, and has profaned the blood of the covenant by which he was sanctified, and has outraged the Spirit of grace?

Thus, our author starts by saying, “See that you do not refuse him who is speaking.”  That would be God who was speaking.  Also, the previous verse mentioned the sprinkled blood of Jesus that speaks redemption to us freely provided by the Lamb of God.

Our author is using a figure of speak known as a litotes, namely, a negative way of saying: “Listen to Him!”  Hebrews opened with God speaking (Heb. 1:1-2) with the ultimate revelation being through the Son and our author is warning them of the danger of not listening, of rejecting what He is saying.

In any church today and in the past there are people who have heard God’s Word taught again and again, who have experienced the joys of Christian fellowship, touches of the Holy Spirit and experiences of countless blessings, but it is still very possible that so many never had a personal relationship with Jesus Christ because they failed to trust in Christ and entrust themselves to God’s keeping.

These Hebrew Christians were in danger, like their forefathers under Moses, of stopping their ears against the voice of God. So our author wants them to know—your forefathers did not escape and neither will you.  The message is so clear: we had better obey God’s Word because his threat that no one who disobeys will escape is inescapably effectual.  It is a “done deal.”  It will definitely happen.  No person will escape who refuses the gospel!  God is a relentless “consuming fire” and will make sure of that!

If this is not sufficient reason to obey the God of the two mountains, there is another, and that is that his word is final, as the writer goes on to explain: “At that time his voice shook the earth, but now he has promised, ‘Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.’ This phrase, ‘Yet once more,’ indicates the removal of things that are shaken—that is, things that have been made—in order that the things that cannot be shaken may remain” (vv. 26, 27).

The initial historical event where God’s voice shook the earth was at Mount Sinai when he verbally spelled out the Ten Commandments with a thunderous voice.  Imagine how terrifying it was to have the ground under one’s feet tremble in response to God’s audible word.  There were no sleepers in the congregation at Sinai!

Again, our author argues from the lesser to the greater, pointing out what happened “at that time” at Sinai is now surpassed by another shaking, a greater shaking.  Here the writer has quoted God’s promise from Haggai 2:6—“Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens” (v. 26b)—indicating that every created thing will be shaken to utter disintegration.

Genesis tells us that it is with a word that He created everything.  In the end, it will be His Word which causes everything to dissolve.

The psalmist tells us that creation is transitory: “Of old you laid the foundation of the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands. They will perish, but you will remain; they will all wear out like a garment” (Psalm 102:25, 26; cf. Hebrews 1:10–12).

Isaiah says of the future, “Therefore I will make the heavens tremble, and the earth will be shaken out of its place, at the wrath of the LORD of hosts in the day of his fierce anger” (Isaiah 13:13).  

And Peter identifies it with the day of the Lord: “But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned up and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed” (2 Peter 3:10).

Think of it! All one hundred thousand million galaxies—each containing at least that many stars—each galaxy one hundred light-years across—will hear the word and shake out of existence!  Just a little word from God, and it is done.

In Revelation 20:11-21:1 we read…

11 Then I saw a great white throne and him who was seated on it. From his presence earth and sky fled away, and no place was found for them. 12 And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Then another book was opened, which is the book of life. And the dead were judged by what was written in the books, according to what they had done. 13 And the sea gave up the dead who were in it, Death and Hades gave up the dead who were in them, and they were judged, each one of them, according to what they had done. 14 Then Death and Hades were thrown into the lake of fire. This is the second death, the lake of fire. 15 And if anyone’s name was not found written in the book of life, he was thrown into the lake of fire.

1 Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more.

The earthquake at Sinai is nothing compared to the cosmic upheavals at the second coming of Christ!

God’s Word is much more powerful than anyone has ever experienced and if it created such fear and dread at Sinai, it should fill our hearts with fear and trembling now as well.  This is why Isaiah 66:2 recommends: “All these things my hand has made, and so all these things came to be, declares the Lord.  But this is the one to whom I will look: he who is humble and contrite in spirit and trembles at my word.”

Philip Edgecombe Hughes concludes:  “But, terrifying though such a prospect is, it is also good news for those who are God’s faithful people, for the final shaking, which is the completion of judgment, is also the completion of salvation” (A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews, p. 558)

Those things which cannot be shaken” refer to the things of “a kingdom that cannot be shaken” (v. 28).  This one final quake will differentiate between what is of eternal value and what is of only temporal use.  And this “final, eschatological earthquake is designed precisely to differentiate between what loves God and serves God and exists for his glory as over against all in creation that opposes him. Simply put, everything that is righteous will remain and everything that is unrighteous will be destroyed” (John Piper).  Stick with what remains!

“For the people of God, who belong to the order of things which are unshakable, the removal of all that is insecure and imperfect is something to be eagerly anticipated; for this final shaking of heaven and earth is necessary for the purging and eradication from the universe of all that is hostile to God and his will, for the establishment of all that, being in harmony with the divine mind, is permanent , and for the inauguration of the new heaven and the new earth, that is, the renewed or ‘changed’ creation, in which all God’s purpose in creation are brought to everlasting fulfillment at the consummation of the redemption procured in and by Christ (Rev, 21:1ff 2 Peter 3:10-13); and this will take place with the return of Christ in glory and majesty (Rev. 19:11)” (Philip Edgecombe Hughes, A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews, p. 558).

There could hardly be a more startling conclusion to this letter for these Jewish Christian readers who were considering turning away from the faith.  Failure to listen to God, refusing to accept all that he has done, will bring catastrophe.  (Bruce Barton, Life Application Bible Commentary: Hebrews, 227)

Stick with the New Covenant and Its Blessings (Hebrews 12:22-24)

Our author (of Hebrews) is attempting to keep his audience–who were New Covenant believer–to stick with the new covenant and its blessings.  Last week we noticed that we “have come” (a past action with continuing benefits now) to a new place (Mount Zion, the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem) and we are accompanied by “innumerable angels in festal gathering.”  Today we’re continuing to go through this amazing list of New Covenant blessings…

22 But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, 23 and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, 24 and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.

Fourth, we come to God —“and to God, the judge of all” (v. 23b).  Although the scene in Zion to which we come is a joyous festival, it is not a casual thing.  We dare not come flippantly.  We come to Zion to meet the very God of Sinai, who is Judge of all. 

We come to God, the Lover of our souls, the One who chose us before the foundation of the world to be His children, the One who has secured our pardon through the blood of His Son.  It is the saint’s delight to “see his face” (Rev. 22:4) and to dwell forever in His presence.

When it comes to “seeing God,” of course He is still spirit and thus invisible to even our resurrection eyes.  We see Him in Christ.  Our “sight” of God, in Christ, will be both immediate and continue to ripen forever.  It will never become static and, as Edwards writes, never boring: “After they have had the pleasure of beholding the face of God millions of ages, it will not grow a dull story; the relish of this delight will be as exquisite as ever” (“The Pure in Heart Blessed,” Works of Jonathan Edwards, vol. 2).

The infinite God will never be done showing us the immeasurable riches of his grace, or the full vista of himself, coming to us in love, not wrath.

We have come to this God of greatness and goodness, but this God is also “the judge of all.”

We understand regarding him that “no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account” (4:13).  We also know that he said, “‘Vengeance is mine; I will repay.’  And as our author will soon say, ‘The Lord will judge his people.’  It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God” (10:30, 31).

Thus, the apostle Peter encourages us, “Since you call on a Father who judges each person’s work impartially, live out your time as foreigners here in reverent fear.”  We come to God’s presence not with abject fear and horror, but with reverent fear.  We do not come to Him in craven dread, but with highest reverence.

How could it possibly be a joy to come to a God who is judge of all?  One reason is that these were persecuted people.  It would be a joy to them to realize that one day the judge of all would make all things right, would avenge them for the wrongs done to them.  When God judges wicked Babylon in the end times, the saints are encouraged (and likely obey): “Rejoice over her, you heavens! Rejoice, you people of God!  Rejoice, apostles and prophets!  For God has judged her with the judgment she imposed on you.”

Also, we can rejoice because we know that God will reward everything that we have done for the name of Christ.  As Hebrews 6:10 reminds us, “God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them.”  Therefore, we should not lose heart, but continue to do good.  So we are encouraged in verse Galatians 6:9, “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

Third, we can rejoice that we have come to the Judge, who is God of all, because living with that awareness will keep us from sinning and ruining our joy.  Who would commit a crime right in front of the police or while standing before the judge in court?  Knowing that God will judge causes us to make sure we are living in holiness every moment, so that “we may be confident and unashamed before him at his coming” (1 John 2:28).

Mount Zion doesn’t do away with God as “judge of all.”  Rather, the work Jesus did on Mount Zion satisfies the justice of God, bringing forth “the spirits of the righteous made perfect.” 

Being made perfect means that they have finished their race, are totally delivered from all sin, and enjoy the reward of God’s presence” (John Owen, Crossway Classic Commentaries: Hebrews, 255)

The mention of Jesus, the Perfecter of our faith (Heb 12:2), and Himself perfected through sufferings and death, in His resurrection and ascension (Heb 2:10; 5:9), is naturally suggested by the mention of “the just made perfect” at their resurrection (compare Heb 7:22). Because Jesus has borne God’s wrath and satisfied His justice against us through the cross, we now can join the heavenly worship around the throne and sing the miracle of His grace as forgiven sinners.

This refers to all of the saints who have died and gone to heaven.  They have not yet received their new resurrection bodies, which awaits the second coming of Christ, but their spirits are made perfect.  They are absent from the body, but present with the Lord.  For them, all temptation and sin is over.  They are completely righteous in Christ, and will be throughout all eternity.  Although we are still in the body, fighting against sin, we are one with these saints, and one day soon we will be with them in heaven.

We share a solidarity with those who have gone before us.  The same spiritual life courses through us as through them.  We share the same secrets as Abraham and Moses and David and Paul.  Here is an amazing thing—they died millennia before us, but God planned, according to 11:40, “that apart from us they should not be made perfect.”  They waited for centuries for the perfection we received when we trusted Christ, because that came only with Christ’s death—“by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified” (10:14).  Because of Christ’s work we are not one whit inferior to the patriarchs, for through Christ we are all equal in righteousness!

Most importantly of all these blessings of the New Covenant, we “come…to Jesus, the mediator of [that] new covenant” (Heb. 12:24a).  Our author holds the best benefit of the New Covenant to the last.  “This climactic fact is the very basis of all that has been described beginning in verse 22.  And the reference to the new covenant here redirects the reader to one of the author’s central arguments (7:22; 8:6–13; 9:15)” (Donald A. Hagner, Hebrews, Understanding the Bible Commentary Series (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 2011), 226

Significantly, Christ’s human name [Jesus], recalling the Incarnation, is used here because we have come to the man “like us, and the man for us” (Raymond Brown, The Message of Hebrews (Downers Grove, IL: Inter-Varsity Press, 1982), p. 24). 

Moses was the mediator of the old covenant, but as great as he was, he, too, trembled fearfully at Mount Sinai (cf. v. 21).  But through Jesus, the mediator of the new covenant, we can draw near to the throne of grace with boldness.  The promises of the new covenant are sure, for they are in Jesus. He is the source and dispenser of all for which we hope. He is in us, and we are in him.

There is only one mediator between God and man, as Paul tells us, “the man Christ Jesus” (1 Timothy 2:5).  We needed a mediator because through our sin we had become enemies of God, and as such rebels we were destined to experience God’s wrath.  Ever since the fall of humanity, sinners have been unable to approach God without going through a mediator.  In the Old Testament, it was the priesthood that mediated between a holy God and sinful man.  But as the book of Hebrews has pointed out again and again, they were insufficient, in that they, too, were sinners and eventually they died.  We needed a mediator who was not a sinner, but completely holy, and One who lives forever.  Thus, there is only One who truly fulfills the vocation of mediator between God and human beings, and that is “the man Christ Jesus” (1 Tim. 2:5).

Stephen Charnock, in his magisterial The Existence and Attributes of God, says, “God, apart from Christ, is an angry, offended Sovereign.  Unless we behold Him in and through Christ, the Mediator, the terrors of His Majesty would overwhelm us.  We dare not approach the Father except in Christ because of our sins.  We first fasten our eyes upon Christ, then upon the Father. If Christ does not bear our guilt and reconcile us unto God, we perish!  Before any man can think to stand before the face of God’s justice or be admitted to the secret chamber of God’s mercy or partake of the riches of His grace, he must look to the Mediator, Christ Jesus.” 

Like Paul, our author stresses the humanity of Christ in today’s passage as a reminder that Jesus shares in our humanity so that we can be joined to Him and thus stand before God.  Moreover, it must be noted that to be an effective mediator, Christ must be truly God and truly man. A mediator is a go-between who can represent the interests of both parties.  As God, Christ brings divine justice and mercy to bear on our relationship to our Creator, and as man, Christ brings the perfect human obedience we need to be reconciled to God.

The ”new covenant” does not employ the usual term (kaine),  as applied to this covenant in Heb. 9:15, which would mean new as different from, and superseding the old; but rather the term nea, “recent,” “lately established,” having the “freshness of youth,” as opposed to aged.

It is this “new covenant” in which we now, in this age of grace, participate, enabling us to enjoy all the spiritual benefits predicted by Ezekiel and Jeremiah.

The “sprinkled blood,” the seventh benefit of the New Covenant, refers to the sacrificial work of atonement which Jesus effected from the cross.  The Old Covenant was ratified by the sprinkling of blood.  Exodus 24:8 records: “Moses then took the blood, sprinkled it on the people and said, ‘This is the blood of the covenant that the LORD has made with you in accordance with all these words.’”  The reason Christ’s people are able to be on Mount Zion is that blood has again been shed (see esp. Heb. 9:15-22), fulfilling the model of the ceremonial “sprinklings” of blood in the OT (Heb. 9:13, 19, 21).

David Guzik notes that there were three occasions for the sprinkling of blood in the Old Testament.  As we’ve mentioned, there was the establishment of Sinai or Old Covenant (Exodus 24:5-8).  But there was also sprinkling of blood at the ordination of Aaron and his sons (Exodus 29:2).  And then there was the special situation of the purification ceremony for a cleansed leper (Lev. 14:6-7).  Guzik says, “The sprinkling of the blood of Jesus on us accomplishes the same things. First, a covenant is formed, then we are ordained as priests to Him, and finally we are cleansed from our corruption and sin. Each of these is ours through the work of Jesus on the cross.”

The Apostle Peter says of the believers in Asia Minor, “who have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, to be obedient to Jesus Christ and sprinkled with his blood: Grace and peace be yours in abundance” (1 Peter 1:2).

Why bring up Abel here in this comparison between the blood of Jesus and the blood of Abel?  He had nothing to do with Sinai or Zion.  “It may have been suggested by the reference in v 23b to the presence of pneumasi dikaion, ‘the spirits of righteous persons,’ in the heavenly city, since the writer had specified in 11:4 that Abel was attested by God as dikaios, ‘righteous.’  It may also have been the writer’s intention to evoke the whole history of redemption, from the righteous Abel to the redemptive sacrifice of Jesus, mediator of the new covenant …” (William Lane, Hebrews 9—13, p. 474. Cf. Casey, pp. 380-82)

The “blood of Abel” does not mean the blood he shed in his martyrdom.  Rather, it was the blood of the sacrifice he made – the first recorded sacrifice from man to God in the Bible.  It “speaks better” because it cries out to God for mercy and pardon on behalf of those for whom Jesus shed it.  For the last of twelve times in all, the author uses the word “better,” this time to describe the blessed gospel message of forgiveness spoken by Jesus’ blood. (Richard E. Lauersdorf, The People’s Bible: Hebrews, 166)

Again, the writer confronts his readers with the superiority of Jesus’ blood as over against that of the any other sacrifices.

“Abel’s blood cried out for vengeance (11:4), but Jesus’ blood speaks a better word, assuring us of forgiveness and acceptance.  All must face the judgment of God, but those who trust in the atoning power of Jesus’ death can look forward to acquittal and life for ever in God’s presence” (David G. Peterson, “Hebrews,” in New Bible Commentary: 21st Century Edition, ed. D. A. Carson et al., 4th ed. (Leicester, England; Downers Grove, IL: Inter-Varsity Press, 1994), p. 1351)

“In 11:4 our author took note of Abel, writing that “by faith he still speaks, even though he is dead.”  Here, however, the reference appears to be to Genesis 4:10, where the blood of Abel “cries out to me from the ground.”  This is the message of the blood of Abel. But the blood of Christ speaks of better things—most conspicuously of the forgiveness of sins associated with the inauguration of the new covenant (8:12; 10:17f.).  Christ’s atoning blood speaks of the end of the old covenant and the establishment of the new.  It is this blood that has brought the readers to the benefits of the new covenant and to their present glorious status wherein they have begun to experience the fulfillment, the goal of God’s saving purposes, the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem” (Donald A. Hagner, Hebrews, Understanding the Bible Commentary Series (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 2011), pp. 226–227)

Whether we understand the latter as meaning the blood of Abel’s sacrifice or Abel’s own blood which was shed by Cain, it is still true that Christ’s blood speaks more graciously.

The blood of Abel cried, justice must be satisfied, bring vengeance.  The blood of Jesus cried, justice has been satisfied, bring mercy.

As fellow-pilgrims in the great marathon, we must not veer off course toward Sinai, because Jesus has met Sinai’s great demands for holiness and perfection at Calvary atop Mount Zion.

To run and work the law commands,

Yet gives me neither feet nor hands;

But better news the gospel brings;

It bids me fly, and gives me wings.

So the question of the day is “Where are you living?”  As a believer in Jesus Christ, you “have come” to a new place with new companions and better benefits.  But are you living there?  Are you living on Mount Sinai, trying to earn acceptance with a holy God by keeping His law?  If so, you should be in terror, because it is impossible to meet the demands of His holiness. 

I mentioned last week that legalism is our default mode.  Why?  Because everything in our childhood and adult life reinforces that if we want to experience the approval of others, if we want to experience advancement in work or sports, if we want to feel good about ourselves, we have to work at it; we have to produce.

The wonderful thing about Jesus Christ is that He has done all the work so that we can rest in Him and what He has done for us through the cross and resurrection.

So, if you have trusted in Christ, keep looking to him.  Stay focused on what He has already done for you.  Remind yourself of every spiritual blessing you have in Christ Jesus (Ephesians 1:3-14).  Yes, you must “work out” your salvation, but you “work out” what God is “work{ing] in you” (Philippians 2:12-13).  You don’t produce good on your own.  You do it in dependence upon and in union with Jesus Christ.

Also, it is important for us to maintain a balance between familiar fellowship with God our Father and reverential fear of God our judge.  We are to draw near to His throne to receive grace for our every need (Hebrews 4:16), but we also need to remember that “our God is a consuming fire” (12:29).

All of this is to show these Jewish Christians that they should not even consider going back and preferring the religion of Mount Sinai to the relationship of Mount Zion.  These seven differences between Mount Sinai and Mount Zion show the clear superiority of the latter.

Stick with the New Covenant and Its Blessings, part 2 (Hebrews 12:22-24)

There is an early passage in Pilgrim’s Progress in which Christian, amidst the difficulties of trying to walk the narrow path to Zion, is lured away by Mr. Worldly Wiseman’s counsel and directed toward the futility of Sinai. Bunyan writes:

So Christian turned out of his way to go to Mr. Legality’s house for help; but, behold, when he was got now hard by the hill, it seemed so high, and also that side of it that was next the wayside did hang so much over, that Christian was afraid to venture farther, lest the hill should fall on his head; wherefore there he stood still, and wotted not what to do. Also his burden now seemed heavier to him than while he was in his way. There came also flashes of fire out of the hill that made Christian afraid that he should be burnt: here, therefore, he sweat and did quake for fear. And now he began to be sorry that he had taken Mr. Worldly Wiseman’s counsel; and with that, he saw Evangelist coming to meet him, at the sight also of whom he began to blush for shame.2

And, of course, Mr. Evangelist got him back on track, and the race continued on to Zion, the heavenly Jerusalem.

Today few Christians, especially Gentiles, are in danger of turning back to Sinai per se and embracing the Levitical corpus of the Old Testament.  However, we can easily slip back into legalism.  In fact, I think it’s our default mode.  After all, all throughout our childhood and adult life we are taught that if we want to experience good grades, win a wonderful girlfriend, or keep a good job, we have to work at it.  Grace is foreign to us.  Even today we believe that we have to “help God out” with our own attempts at righteousness.

God’s will and law are eternal and we should follow it, but we are never made more acceptable to God by it.  Isaiah tells us that even our righteousness is like “filthy rags” (Isaiah 64:6).

Last week we noticed that the writer of Hebrews is contrasting the Old and New Covenants by identifying them with two mountains: Sinai where the law was given and Zion where Jesus was crucified.

The Old Covenant is presented in vv. 18-21…

18 For you have not come to what may be touched, a blazing fire and darkness and gloom and a tempest 19 and the sound of a trumpet and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that no further messages be spoken to them.  20 For they could not endure the order that was given, “If even a beast touches the mountain, it shall be stoned.” 21 Indeed, so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, “I tremble with fear.” 

So, the route to Zion goes through Sinai, where we encounter the terrors of God’s law.  But once you’ve arrived in Zion, why would you want to go back to Sinai?  So after describing the place we have left, the author goes on to show the place where we’ve come.

At Sinai there is gloom and doom.  Everything says: Stay away!  Do not draw near!  You are not worthy to be close to God. 

At Zion there is joy and freedom.  Everything says: Come close!  Draw near.  Christ by his blood and the forgiveness he has brought you has made you worthy to enter God’s presence.

If you have trusted in Jesus’ blood, you have come to the joys of the new covenant.  Our author puts it like this, continuing the metaphor:

22 But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, 23 and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, 24 and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.

This is already a reality to which we who have believed in Christ “have come.”  This is an experience of the present, not just a future hope.  He is describing what is true of us as the church right now.  This is a reality that we encounter from the day of our conversion and all through our Christian lives, all the way up until the time of the end.

First, then, you have come to the joy of inclusion in the city of the living God.

The word “but” at the head of verse 22 is a strong contrastive word.  You did not come to Mount Sinai “BUT you have come to Mount Zion…”  The author of Hebrews is saying, “We are in a different place.  Our relationship with God is not modeled after Israel’s experience on Mount Sinai.”

To “come” or “draw near” to God is a recurrent theme in Hebrews.  We’ve seen this same verb in Hebrews 4:16 where we are invited to “to come” or “draw near” to the throne of grace in prayer.  In 7:25 we are encouraged to “draw near” to God through faith in Christ because he lives to make intercession for us.  Again in 10:22 we are exhorted to “draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith” and in 11:6 we are described as those who “draw near to God.” 

And this is a permanent condition.  The verb “you have come” is in the perfect tense, speaking of a past action which has continuing results.  It was a decision you made to come to Jesus, to draw near to him, but now it is a settled condition with great blessings.

Rather than experiencing fear and dread and a sense of being distant from God, Christians have come into an experience of unparalleled joy and festive celebration!  And the reason is simple: through the blood of Jesus Christ and the establishment of the new covenant, we now live in God’s presence fearlessly and boldly and confidently. 

We come to God’s other mountain, Mount Zion.   This was the name for the stronghold in Jerusalem that David conquered (2 Sam. 5:6-8). It became a synonym for Jerusalem (Psalm 147:12; Amos 1:2; Micah 4:2). It represents the place where God, the King, dwells with His people.  We will dwell forever in the “new Jerusalem” (Revelation 20).

Zion, of course, is another name for Jerusalem, the very place in the New Testament era where Jesus was crucified.  The law came to Sinai; the cross was on Zion.

Mount Zion was the location of the Jebusite stronghold that David captured and made the religious center of his kingdom by bringing to it the golden ark of God—God’s presence with his people.  When Solomon built the temple and installed the ark, Zion/Jerusalem became synonymous with the earthly dwelling-place of God. In Christ we have come to its heavenly counterpart, the spiritual Jerusalem from above. 

The second description of the place to which we believers have come is “the city of the living God.” 

This is the same “city which has foundations, whose architect and builder is God” (Heb. 11:10).  It is the city which God prepared for the Old Testament saints who died in faith without receiving the promises (Heb. 11:13, 16).  And while we now dwell in it spiritually, there is a sense in which it is yet “to come” (Heb. 13:14).  In other words, there is still a fuller, future experience of it as well.

“City,” a word used more in Hebrews than any other book of the New Testament, carries the idea of orderliness and security against the enemy.  It is a place where needs for food and water are met, and where there is fellowship with others.

Whereas we once were aliens, now we are citizens of this city, if we continue to follow the “living God” (Heb. 3:12) because this is the “city of the living God.”  Our writer affirms that the blood of Christ would “cleanse your conscience from dead works to serve the living God.”

Again, we are in Zion for good.  “But you have come to Mount Zion” is in the perfect tense, emphasizing our permanent, continuing state.

For many years, a popular bumper sticker in Colorado bore a single word—NATIVE.  It proclaimed to every new arrival, “You just moved in, but I was born here.  This is my state, my heritage, and I belong.”

Our nationality, citizenship, and sense of belonging are usually determined by birth.  This was especially true for the Israelites in Old Testament times.  They were not only the people of Israel but the people of God.

It may seem surprising, then, to read in Psalm 87 that people of rival Gentile nations will one day be treated as if they had been “born” in Zion (vv.4-5).  Herbert Lockyer says of this passage: “Whether some were born in Egypt or came from Ethiopia, all [will be] equally honored as home-born sons of the city of God.  The proud from Egypt, the worldly from Babylon, the wrathful from Philistia, the covetous from Tyre [will be] brought under the regenerating, transforming power of the Spirit of God.”  That is, they will be spiritually reborn.

This is also the “heavenly Jerusalem,” the holy city that John saw, “coming down out of heaven from God, made ready as a bride adorned for her husband” (Rev. 21:2).  The angel goes on to describe that this means God dwelling with His people and promises that when this time arrives that God will wipe away every tear, and that there will be no more death, mourning, crying or pain (Rev. 21:4).  The fulfillment of these promises will be enjoyed at Christ’s second coming.

Christians are now citizens of the heavenly city and enjoy its privileges.  Paul wrote, “But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Philippians 3:20).  We are in Zion by virtue of our incorporation in Christ, for “[God] raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus” (Ephesians 2:6).

Sure, the fiery presence of God is there, but through our union with Christ we are now clothed in His righteousness and have free access to Jesus Christ and need fear no condemnation.

Not only do we enjoy this new location—now spiritually, then in every respect and forever—we will join with the angels in praising God.  Instead of experiencing the terrifying blast of trumpets when the myriads of angels attending the giving of the law (Deut. 33:2), we will join “innumerable angels in festal gathering.”

We know from Daniel that “A thousand thousands served him [the Ancient of Days—God], and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him” (Daniel 7:10).  David said, “The chariots of God are twice ten thousand, thousands upon thousands” (Psalm 68:17).

This multitude of angels is assembled in “festal gathering” (a word found only here in the NT but used in extra-biblical literature of parties and celebratory festivities).  This word connotes excitement, revelry, and well-being.  As David says in Psalm 16:11, when we enter into the path of life (heaven), we will be filled with joy and experience eternal pleasures at His right hand.

We see a glimpse of this worship expressed in Revelation 5:11-12.

“Then I looked, and I heard around the throne and the living creatures and the elders the voice of many angels, numbering myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands, saying with a loud voice, ‘Worthy is the lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!’”

Every time we lift up our voices in praise to our God on earth now, we join in the heavenly chorus.   Apathetic, ho-hum, “worship” is sin! It shows that we don’t understand the majesty of our God, and we are not focused on His great salvation that He lavished on us by His grace.  I can’t wait to actually join this choir and to hear our united voices in a thousand harmonies rejoicing in our beautiful, glorious Savior!  This, too, is something to which we have already come, and yet the full experience remains in our future.

Not only are the angels in heaven exhilarating in God and His glory, but right now the angels in heaven erupt in praise whenever one sinner repents (Luke 15:10).  I can remember as a teenager going to the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum and watching an IMAX movie on the space shuttle.  Amidst all the noise as the Shuttle lifted off, they cut to command central and showed the utter joy at the successful lift off.  Such is the joy in heaven among the angels when a single sinner repents.

Jacob saw angels shuttling back and forth from heaven to earth on a ladder.  Jesus told Nathaniel he would see angels descending and ascending on the Son of Man.  Angels are around us.

Every day we are surrounded by these ministering spirits (Heb. 1:14).  Sometimes they protect God’s elect—for example, the “tall men in shining garments” who surrounded Mr. and Mrs. John G. Paton years ago in the New Hebrides—or the “tall soldiers with shining faces” who protected missionary Marie Monsen in North China—or, on another occasion, the “huge men, dressed in white with flaming swords” who surrounded the Rift Valley Academy—and on another the “hundreds of men dressed in white, with swords and shields” who stood guard over a hut shielding Clyde Taylor, who would one day found the National Association of Evangelicals.  Similarly, a missionary from the church I pastor, Carol Carlson, serving in China in 1922, learned why the bandits never attacked her compound—there were “men in white walking up and down the wall.”

At other times, angels preside over the apparent earthly tragedy of God’s people.  Olive Fleming Liefeld in her book Unfolding Destinies tells how two young Auca Indians, Dawa and Kimo, heard singing after witnessing the martyrdom of the five missionaries in the jungles of Ecuador.  “As they looked up over the tops of the trees they saw a large group of people.  They were all singing, and it looked as if there were a hundred flashlights” (Olive Fleming Liefeld, Unfolding Destinies (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1990), p. 236).

But the grand emphasis of our passage is not so much the angels’ care of us, but rather our joining with them in festal assembly.  The word translated “festal gathering” was used in ancient culture to describe the great national assemblies and sacred games of the Greeks.  Whereas at Mount Sinai the angels blew celestial trumpets that terrified God’s people, we are to see ourselves on Mount Zion as dressed in festal attire and worshiping in awe side by side with these glorious shining beings!

Third, we come to fellow-believers —“to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven” (v. 23a).  Natural families have only one firstborn.  But in God’s family, as F. F. Bruce puts it (Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews [Eerdmans], p. 377), “All the people of Christ are the ‘firstborn’ children of God, through their union with Him who is The Firstborn par excellence; their birthright is not to be bartered away, as was Esau’s.”

This group probably refers to all those believers who had died but will receive their full inheritance because they followed the Lord faithfully and did not apostatize.  The term “firstborn” often meant, in Scripture, the most excellent, the chief.

What God gave at Mount Sinai was mainly for Israel; what God gave at Mount Zion is for all and it spans all the redeemed, both the church and the general assembly of the redeemed, all together.

All the rights of inheritance go to the firstborn—to us who are “fellow heirs with Christ” (Romans 8:17).  Bishop Westcott says we are “a society of ‘eldest sons’ of God” (Brooke Foss Westcott, The Epistle to the Hebrews (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1967), p. 415).  There are no second-class citizens in heaven.  Male or female, young or old, rich or poor, genius or uneducated, we are all “fellow heirs in Christ.”

Only those who are “enrolled in heaven,” whose “names are written in the book of life” (Rev. 20:15, cf. Luke 10:20; Philippians 4:3; Revelation 13:8; 17:8; 21:27).  This is the entire communion of the saints, all those covered by the blood of Christ whether Old Testament saints or the Church.

This family is ever growing, whether they are in heaven now or will be there in the future, we join this family.

Everything about the New Covenant encourages us to continue to come boldly into God’s presence (cf. 4:16).

Stick with the New Covenant and Its Blessings, part 1 (Hebrews 12:18-21)

As we approach this last portion of Hebrews 12 we come to the final warning statement in the book of Hebrews.  We have seen that Hebrews 12 is about running and finishing the race strong.  Hebrews 11 showed us that others have done it and how they did it.  Hebrews 12: 12-17 exhorts us to be strong (v. 12), run a straight race (v. 13), pursue peace and holiness (v. 14) and above all not be like Esau who looked at his birthright and gave it up for a single meal (vv. 16-17).  God is at work in us to produce this strength, so do not miss out on the grace of God.

As a runner in high school I knew about and experienced the phenomena of “hitting the wall,” although we called it “a bear on your back.”  You could be running along at full speed and all of the sudden your side starts to hurt and you can’t get your wind, energy is sapped out of you.  Marathon runners face “heartbreak hill,” that long uphill incline that tends to drain all their energy and make their bodies weak.  The temptation in such circumstances is to give up.

That is the predicament that our author has been warning against throughout the book: turning away from Jesus because the journey has become too difficult.  A combination of persecution and increasing difficulties of discipleship had caused some of them to turn back to what was familiar and convenient and easy, back to Judaism.  But like Esau, they would be giving up what is most precious (Jesus Christ) for a mess of potage.

18 For you have not come to what may be touched, a blazing fire and darkness and gloom and a tempest 19 and the sound of a trumpet and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that no further messages be spoken to them.  20 For they could not endure the order that was given, “If even a beast touches the mountain, it shall be stoned.” 21 Indeed, so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, “I tremble with fear.”  22 But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, 23 and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, 24 and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel. 25 See that you do not refuse him who is speaking. For if they did not escape when they refused him who warned them on earth, much less will we escape if we reject him who warns from heaven. 36 At that time his voice shook the earth, but now he has promised, “Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.”  27 This phrase, “Yet once more,” indicates the removal of things that are shaken–that is, things that have been made–in order that the things that cannot be shaken may remain.  28 Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, 29 for our God is a consuming fire.

Verses 18-24 are another basis for the practical warning not to be like Esau. It starts in verse 18 with “For you have not come to a mountain that may be touched . . .” Verses 16-17: “Don’t be like Esau who sold his inheritance for a single meal . . . (verse 18) For you have not come to a mountain that may be touched . . .”  Everything that follows then equips us to not be like Esau.

At the end of this section (verses 18-24), the writer repeats the warning using different words: “See to it that you do not refuse Him who is speaking” (verse 25).  That’s exactly what Esau did: he considered what God promised and what the life of faith would be like, and he said, “No deal.  Give me my food.  You can have the inheritance of God.”  So verse 16 and verse 25 say, “Don’t be like that.  Don’t devalue God’s gifts and refuse God’s voice of promise and grace.

“As vv. 14-17 recall the first warning of 6:4-8, so he [the writer] now proceeds to reiterate the second warning of 10:26-31, reminding his readers that they stand in a critical position, in which any indifferences or disobedience to God will prove fatal” (Moffatt, pp. 213-14)

Back in the first warning, our author had warned us to “pay careful attention” and not “drift away” from such a “great salvation” (Heb. 2:1-3).

In vv. 18-24 our author contrasts the old and new covenants referring to two mountains—Mount Sinai and Mount Zion, representing Jewish life under the law and new life under grace.  The former evoked terror while the latter evokes joy; the first reinforced distance, the second encourages closeness.  The contrast is between the imperfect and the perfect, the temporary and the permanent, the law and the gospel.

The writer made Sinai and Zion metaphors (symbols of the two covenants) in order to show the difference in quality between people’s relationship to God under the Old and New Covenants (cf. Gal. 4:24-26).

If you want to know the true riches that you possess in Christ, you won’t want to go back to the empty, fleeting pleasures of the world or to that old, empty religious system, Judaism.  John Newton put it this way in “Glorious Things of Thee are Spoken,” verse 4:

Savior, if of Zion’s city, I through grace a member am,
Let the world deride or pity, I will glory in Thy name;
Fading is the world’s best pleasure, All its boasted pomp and show;
Solid joys and lasting treasure None but Zion’s children know.

Solid joys and lasting treasure come through Mount Zion, through the grace of Jesus Christ. 

Don’t make Esau’s fatal mistake of trading away what is of utmost value just to gain a few moments of physical, sensual pleasure.  This approach still involves reverence (v. 28), but no longer terror and dread.

Verses 18-24 face us with a choice: we can either live in the terror of the old covenant or in the joy of the new covenant.  Although verse 18 mentions a mountain that can be touched, they actually put barriers around the mountain so that the people could not touch it (Exodus 19:21-23).

Ancient Israel is in focus in vv. 18-21.  Israel, in Exodus 19, came to the mountain with “a blazing fire and darkness and gloom and a tempest and the sound of a trumpet and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that no further messages be spoken to them” (Heb. 12:18-19) but “you have not come” to this mountain.

At Sinai God revealed himself in a terrible manner, with fire and darkness.  “Now Mount Sinai was wrapped in smoke because the LORD had descended on it in fire. The smoke of it went up like the smoke of a kiln, and the whole mountain trembled greatly.” (Exodus 19:18).  And Deuteronomy 4:11 says, “You came near and stood at the foot of the mountain while it blazed with fire to the very heavens, with black clouds and deep darkness.”

“On the morning of the third day there was thunder and lightning, with a thick cloud over the mountain, and a very loud trumpet blast. Everyone in the camp trembled” (Exodus 19:16).

Whether the trumpet sound was natural or unnatural cannot be determined.  I believe it was supernatural because it was heard by all the million plus people in the camp and because the giving of the Law was attended by “ten thousands of holy ones” (Deuteronomy 33:2).  Some of these could have been blowing celestial trumpets.

You can imagine that this was a very fearful scene, with knees knocking and hearts trembling.  After hearing the “voice” from the mountain they “beg that no further messages be spoken to them.”

The reaction of Israel was understandable: they were terrified (Exodus 20:18-21). They wanted the experience to stop, not to continue.  Even Moses was afraid, saying “I tremble with fear” (v. 21).

So Israel did not want to hear directly from God.  They wanted Moses to mediate.  After repeating the ten commandments with the new generation in Deuteronomy 5, we read this scenario recounting their experience:

23 When you heard the voice out of the darkness, while the mountain was ablaze with fire, all the leaders of your tribes and your elders came to me.  24 And you said, “The LORD our God has shown us his glory and his majesty, and we have heard his voice from the fire.  Today we have seen that a person can live even if God speaks with them.  25 But now, why should we die?  This great fire will consume us, and we will die if we hear the voice of the LORD our God any longer.  26 For what mortal has ever heard the voice of the living God speaking out of fire, as we have, and survived?  27 Go near and listen to all that the LORD our God says.  Then tell us whatever the LORD our God tells you.  We will listen and obey.”

Sinai was a visible, physical “assault” of the holiness and majesty of God upon the senses of the people of Israel and it was a terrifying experience.  The people were visibly, physically assaulted with the holiness and majesty of God. This palpable divine display on Sinai communicated far more than any speech or written word ever could—and all Israel, young and old, could understand.  These verses emphasize the awesome majesty of God, the absolute unapproachability of God, and the sheer fearsomeness of God.

The effect of these physical signs was to display in no uncertain terms the absolute unapproachableness of God.  The mountain was so charged with the holiness of God that for a man to touch it meant certain death.

Somewhat ironically, with all these visual and audio experiences of the presence of God these Israelites felt, God remained hidden from Israel.  Notwithstanding all the noise and the fearsome sights they encountered at Sinai, God is still distant and obscured and remote.

All this fear, unfortunately, produced no lasting change in the Exodus generation.  It didn’t change their hearts.  Although they pledged their allegiance, within forty days they were dancing around the golden calf.

So the author of Hebrews is telling those who have trusted in the blood of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of sins, that they have NOT come to the terrors of the law.  Well, then, why did God give us the law?  Paul partially answers that question in Galatians 3:19-24.

19 Why, then, was the law given at all?  It was added because of transgressions until the Seed to whom the promise referred had come. The law was given through angels and entrusted to a mediator.  20 A mediator, however, implies more than one party; but God is one.  21 Is the law, therefore, opposed to the promises of God?  Absolutely not!  For if a law had been given that could impart life, then righteousness would certainly have come by the law.  22 But Scripture has locked up everything under the control of sin, so that what was promised, being given through faith in Jesus Christ, might be given to those who believe.  23 Before the coming of this faith, we were held in custody under the law, locked up until the faith that was to come would be revealed.  24 So the law was our guardian until Christ came that we might be justified by faith.

The law was given not to enslave us but to lead us to Christ.  God’s law instills in us a certain knowledge of His holiness and our sinfulness.  By nature we are blind to our own sinfulness.  We just don’t see it.  We successfully compare ourselves to terrorists or child molesters and think, “I’m not so bad.”  We generally fail to grasp the holiness of God.  I don’t think the Israelites failed to grasp God’s holiness and majesty at Sinai!

When faced with the holiness of God (instead of comparing ourselves to others), we will cry out, “Woe to me!” I cried. “I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the LORD Almighty” (Isaiah 6:5).  Isaiah wasn’t aware that his mouth was so filthy until he saw God in his holiness.

The salutary effect upon those at the foot of Sinai was substantial—it instilled a proper fear of God.  As Moses explained, “God has come to test you, that the fear of him may be before you, that you may not sin” (Exodus 20:20).  It was patently remedial.  To understand that God is holy and that one is a sinner is to stand at the threshold of grace.  Moreover, the giving of the Ten Commandments in this awesome context—and Israel’s failure to keep them—served to emphasize the people’s impotence and doom, which is a further grace, however negative the experience may be.

You see, the route to Zion goes through Sinai.  We must first face the bad news about ourselves, that we really are filthy sinners in need of grace, forgiveness and cleansing.

John Calvin notes:

Each of us must, then, be so stung by the consciousness of his own unhappiness as to attain at least some knowledge of God.  Thus, from the feeling of our own ignorance, vanity, poverty, infirmity, and—what is more—depravity and corruption, we recognize that the true light of wisdom, sound virtue, full abundance of every good, and purity of righteousness rest in the Lord alone.  To this extent we are prompted by our own ills to contemplate the good things of God; and we cannot seriously aspire to him before we begin to become displeased with ourselves (The Institutes of the Christian Religion (ed. by John McNeill, [Westminster Press], 1:1:1).

The only way we get a clear knowledge of ourselves is to look upon God’s face.  His holiness reveals our pride, self-righteousness, hypocrisy, and sin. Until we have some understanding of God as revealed in Scripture, we flatter ourselves and think that we’re not all that bad.  Calvin gives many biblical examples (1:1:3) of men who normally were “firm and constant,” but when they got a glimpse of God’s majesty and glory, they were “overwhelmed by it and almost annihilated.”

John Newton expressed the same idea in his well-known hymn, “Amazing Grace”: “’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved.”  Charles Spurgeon went through the same experience.  In his autobiography, he spends a chapter describing how the terrors of God’s law tormented him before he came to saving faith in Christ.  Martin Luther knew the same thing.  He hated God’s righteousness until he came to understand that God imputes His righteousness to us by faith alone.

But this said, the great problem with the trip to Sinai was that while men and women could come to see God’s holiness and their sinfulness, the Law provided no power to overcome sin.

To run and work the law commands,

Yet gives me neither feet nor hands.

Along with a sense of our own sinfulness, God’s law causes us to recognize our need for a better mediator.

At Mount Sinai, Moses and Aaron were the only ones allowed to go up the mountain into God’s presence.  But the people could not draw near to God through Moses or Aaron.  They were men with sin of their own.  But Jesus Christ is our sinless high priest, who offered Himself as our sacrifice (Hebrews 7:26-27).  As Paul wrote (1 Timothy 2:5), “For there is one God, and one mediator also between God and men, the man Christ Jesus.”

So, the route to Zion goes through Sinai, where we encounter the terrors of God’s law.  But once you’ve arrived in Zion, why would you want to go back to Sinai?  So after describing the place we have left, the author goes on to show the place where we’ve come.

The Final Word on Esau (Hebrews 12:17)

Over the last couple of weeks we’ve looked at behaviors which cause us to “miss the grace” of God.  First, there is the “root of bitterness,” which in the Old Testament context, is a person who apostatizes from the faith.  But also there is sexual immorality and godlessness.  Both of these our author attributes to Esau and his “despising” of the birthright (Genesis 25:27-34).  He treated it lightly, of no importance or significance.  It held little to no value for Esau.

Here in Hebrews 12 we read…

16 that no one is sexually immoral or unholy like Esau, who sold his birthright for a single meal. 17 For you know that afterward, when he desired to inherit the blessing, he was rejected, for he found no chance to repent, though he sought it with tears.

Our question this morning is: What happened to Esau?  Did he lose his salvation?  Why was he unable to repent, even though it deeply grieved him?  If this is true, what about us when we sin, can we “sin away” our salvation?

Obviously Esau had done something very bad, despising something he should have valued greatly, but according to verse 17 repentance was unavailable to him.  Does this mean we can sin away our salvation?

Let’s take this verse apart and see what we can discover.  First, this verse tells us that this conclusion about Esau comes “afterward,” after the selling of his birthright.

The birthright normally goes to the firstborn, which was Esau.  Passages like Deuteronomy 21:17 and 1 Chronicles 5:1-2 tell us the birthright involved both a material and a spiritual dynamic.  The son of the birthright received a double portion of the inheritance, and he also became the head of the family and the spiritual leader upon the passing of the father.

The “birthright” was the privilege of being chief of the tribe and head of the family (27:29). In Isaac’s family, it entitled the bearer to the blessing of Yahweh’s promises (27:4, 27-29), which included the possession of Canaan and covenant fellowship with God (28:4).

This is what Esau traded away for a pot of stew, despising God’s gifts to him.  Keil and Delitzsch say, “The frivolity with which he [Esau] sold his birthright rendered him unfit to be the heir and possessor of the promised grace” (1:269)

Later, of course, Esau desired to inherit the blessing that was part of this birthright.  We find in Genesis 27 the story about how Jacob deceives his nearly-blind father Isaac into giving him the blessing.  Although Isaac nearly caught Jacob in this lie, he ultimately thought he was dealing with Esau and said,

28 May God give you heaven’s dew and earth’s richness— an abundance of grain and new wine. 29 May nations serve you and peoples bow down to you. Be lord over your brothers, and may the sons of your mother bow down to you. May those who curse you be cursed and those who bless you be blessed.”

When Esau arrived, after Jacob had left, and Isaac understood that he had been deceived Esau “burst out with a loud and bitter cry and said to his father, “Bless me—me too, my father!” (Gen. 27:34).  As our text in Hebrews 12:17 says, “he desired to inherit the blessing.”  Moses goes on to record Esau’s grief…

35 But he said, “Your brother came deceitfully and took your blessing.” 36 Esau said, “Isn’t he rightly named Jacob?  This is the second time he has taken advantage of me: He took my birthright, and now he’s taken my blessing!” Then he asked, “Haven’t you reserved any blessing for me?”  37 Isaac answered Esau, “I have made him lord over you and have made all his relatives his servants, and I have sustained him with grain and new wine. So what can I possibly do for you, my son?”  38 Esau said to his father, “Do you have only one blessing, my father?  Bless me too, my father!”  Then Esau wept aloud.  39 His father Isaac answered him, “Your dwelling will be away from the earth’s richness, away from the dew of heaven above.  40 You will live by the sword and you will serve your brother.  But when you grow restless, you will throw his yoke from off your neck.”

What Esau desired, and was grieving over, was missing out on the blessing that naturally belongs to the firstborn.  Because he had “despised” his birthright, he also lost out on that blessing.  Yes, he received a blessing, of some sorts, and went on to enjoy an enriched life, but he lost out on the spiritual side of God’s blessing.

As far as the central blessings of the Abrahamic covenant, Esau was “rejected.”  This is a translation of the Greek word apodokimadzo, which means “to reject after testing or scrutinizing and finding the tested subject useless or worthless.”  That he was “rejected” is speaking as an action which is final and complete with no second chance for Esau.

Our text says, “he found no chance to repent.”  This doesn’t mean that he didn’t have the opportunity and did not try to repent.  He likely did, at least in some sense.  But it didn’t overturn the consequences of despising his birthright.

So Alexander Maclaren said:

His repentance did not alter the fixed destination of the blessing. His repentance, his change of mind as to the worth of the thing thrown away, and as to his own conduct in despising it, did not bring the thing back again to him. His tears did not obliterate what was done. He wished that it had been otherwise, but his wishes were vain.

The words he found no chance to repent could more literally be rendered “he did not find a place (topos) of repentance,” which could bear the meaning that there was no opportunity for him to change his circumstances.  In this sense no chance to repent remained, but it is a NT principle that an opportunity for spiritual repentance is possible wherever there is a spiritual desire.  It is in this sense that the gospel can be said to be based on a call to repentance.  It may be wondered what possessed the writer to bring in the tragic history of Esau at this point of his discussion and the answer must be that Esau was regarded as one of the most striking examples of those who failed to appropriate “the grace of God.”  (Donald Guthrie, Tyndale NT Commentaries: Hebrews, 258-9)

Had Esau sought forgiveness, he would have found it.  But the consequences of his decision were irreversible.  The blessing could not be restored to him.  Like David, he could be forgiven for his sins, but he still had to face the consequences of his sins.  As Leon Morris said:  “It is not a question of forgiveness.  God’s forgiveness is always open to the penitent.  Esau could have come back to God.  But he could not undo his act.”

This forfeiture of participating in the Abrahamic blessings was despite the fact that “he sought it with tears.”  Esau was upset, as we saw in Genesis 27, about losing out on his father’s primary blessing.  Verse 34 said he “burst out with a loud and bitter cry,” desiring a blessing from his father Isaac.  And verse 38 reports that “Esau wept aloud.”

When Esau finally woke up to some extent and realized what he had forsaken, he made a half-hearted attempt to retrieve it.  Just because he sought for it with tears does not indicate sincerity or true remorse.  He found no place for repentance.  He bitterly regretted, but he did not repent.  He selfishly wanted God’s blessings, but he did not want God. He had fully apostatized, and was forever outside the pale of God’s grace.  He went on “sinning willfully after receiving the knowledge of the truth,” and there no longer remained any sacrifice to cover his sins (Heb. 10:26).

So there definitely were tears.  And if we examine our own repentance, doubtless we will be able to identify at least a few times when we repented with tears.  However, we would also have to admit that most of the time it does not bother us that much.  We just confess and then move on as a matter of business.  Esau wept at his loss.  Now he wanted that blessing.

Of course, Paul distinguishes, in 2 Corinthians 7, between godly sorrow and worldly sorrow.  Possibly Esau’s sorrow was nothing more than grief over the consequences of his sinful choices rather than over his actual sinful appetites that caused him to despise his birthright.

10 Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death. 11 See what this godly sorrow has produced in you: what earnestness, what eagerness to clear yourselves, what indignation, what alarm, what longing, what concern, what readiness to see justice done. At every point you have proved yourselves to be innocent in this matter. (2 Corinthians 7:10-11)

So this passage has nothing to do with Esau’s “salvation,” or his relationship with God.  What he lost was the privilege of possessing the blessings of the birthright.  He didn’t lose his salvation; he lost the present enjoyment of what God had designed for him.

Of course, we realize that in the bigger picture, God had promised the blessing to Jacob.  That was made clear when they were struggling in Rebekah’s womb.  When such commotion was happening within her, Rebekah inquired of the Lord what was happening.  Genesis 25:23 tells us, “the LORD said to her, ‘Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples from within you shall be divided; the one shall be stronger than the other, the older shall serve the younger.’”  That means that Esau, the one born first (Genesis 25:25), would serve the younger, Jacob.

In Romans 9:10-13, the Apostle Paul used this choice of Jacob over Esau before their birth as an illustration of God’s sovereign choice.

10 Not only that, but Rebekah’s children were conceived at the same time by our father Isaac.  11 Yet, before the twins were born or had done anything good or bad—in order that God’s purpose in election might stand: 12 not by works but by him who calls—she was told, “The older will serve the younger.”  13 Just as it is written: “Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated.”

God chose, before either of them were born or “had done anything good or bad” to love Jacob and hate (in comparison) Esau.  It had nothing to do with their character, actions, thoughts, affections, desires or choices.  It was so “God’s purpose in election might stand.”

Some object, questioning the fairness of God making such a choice before Jacob or Esau were born. Yet we should regard the love and the hate God spoke of in Malachi 1:2-3 and Romans 9:10-13 as having to do with His purpose in choosing one of these two to become the heir of the covenant of Abraham.  In that regard, God’s preference could rightly be regarded as a display of love towards Jacob and hate towards Esau.  The real thought in Malachi 1 and Romans 9 is much more like “accepted” and “rejected” more than it is like our understanding of the terms “loved” and “hated.”

“A woman once said to Mr. Spurgeon, ‘I cannot understand why God should say that He hated Esau.’  ‘That,’ Spurgeon replied, ‘is not my difficulty, madam.  My trouble is to understand how God could love Jacob.’” (Newell in Romans, Verse by Verse)

God’s message to us who are in the race is clear:  to give free rein to our sexual and physical appetites will ruin our race and if that is the habitual practice of one’s life, it indicates that that person was never truly regenerate and did not possess the indwelling Spirit who sanctifies us.  As Paul warned the saints in Ephesians 5:5-6.

5 For of this you can be sure: No immoral, impure or greedy person—such a person is an idolater—has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God.  6 Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of such things God’s wrath comes on those who are disobedient.

Don’t be deceived.  If you live your life for lesser, material things, or sexual appetites, you will “lose your soul.”  You will lose what is most precious for a few moments of pleasure.

“Esau’s willingness to give up all that was his as the firstborn son reflected a contempt for the covenant by which his rights were warranted.  By descriptive analogy, he is representative of apostate persons who are ready to turn their backs on God and the divine promises, in reckless disregard of the covenant blessings secured by the sacrificial death of Jesus.  The immediate reference is to the objective blessings of ‘peace’ and ‘holiness,’ specified in v 14.  With the example of Esau, apostasy is further defined as a decisive rejection of God’s gifts” (William Lane, Hebrews 9—13, pp. 445-46

“To take a very simple example—if a young man loses his purity or a girl her virginity, nothing can ever bring it back.  The choice was made and the choice stands.  God can and will forgive, but God Himself cannot turn back the clock and unmake the choice or undo the consequences” (William Barclay, Hebrews, p. 210).

Our author is warning us against the foolishness of so many who for the sake of some momentary, fleeting pleasure, turn their backs on what is of eternal value.  In the case of Esau it was the immediate gratification of eating to overcome his hunger.  But in the case of others, it may be a one-night adulterous fling which results in the destruction of a marriage and the loss of a job and the soiling of one’s reputation.  It may be a drinking binge that happens only once but results in a DUI or the death of someone in an accident caused by your intoxication.

Esau never repented of his sin, but only of the consequences of it.  He never sought pardon of God, but only sought to inherit the blessing.  (Charles Spurgeon, Spurgeon Commentary: Hebrews, 416)

God has given Christians special promises as well (e.g., His presence, promises, strength, provisions, fruitfulness, glorification, rewards). How might we “despise” these? By living primarily for the present rather than for the future.

Donald Gray Barnhouse, for many years the pastor at Tenth Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia, has written, “History shows that men prefer illusions to realities, choose time rather than eternity, and the pleasures of sin for a season rather than the joys of God forever. Men will read trash rather than the Word of God, and adhere to a system of priorities that leaves God out of their lives. Multitudes of men spend more time shaving than on their souls; and multitudes of women give more minutes to their makeup than to the life of the eternal spirit. Men still sell their birthright for a mess of pottage.” (Barnhouse)

Esau represents perhaps the worst kind of person to imitate in the book of Hebrews.  He doesn’t surrender his birthright because of persecution or harassment from others.  He surrenders his birthright because he was hungry.  He gave up what he should have treasured most simply because he had a physical, sensual desire that was more important.  Esau had no regard for spiritual values, no need for God in his life. 

While he thought better of it later, and even wept deeply over the loss, his forfeiture of the birthright and the blessing were final and complete.  That devastating exchange takes place far too often in our Christian lives.  That is why we need to be on the alert for each other, making sure that we don’t miss the grace of God by being sexually immoral and godless.

As vv. 12-13 said,

12 Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, 13 and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed.

Don’t Miss Out on God’s Grace, part 2 (Hebrews 12:15-17)

Last week we were looking at Hebrews 12:15-17 in this passage which enjoins all of us to be looking not only after our own lives but also those of our brothers and sisters, lest they

15 … fails to obtain the grace of God; that no “root of bitterness” springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled; 16 that no one is sexually immoral or unholy like Esau, who sold his birthright for a single meal. 17 For you know that afterward, when he desired to inherit the blessing, he was rejected, for he found no chance to repent, though he sought it with tears.

We were talking about this “root of bitterness” that springs up and causes trouble and defiles many.  Many believe that this is talking about the wrong attitude we can take towards those who hurt and wound us.

Certainly, Esau struggled with bitterness towards his younger brother.  While Hebrews 11 showed us many role models to imitate, here he introduces us to a familiar Old Testament character who show us what lack of faith in the Lord looks like and what it produces in those who do not believe in the promises of God.

Esau should have possessed the birthright and the blessing, but Jacob had “stolen” them from him.  He burned with resentment and a desire for vengeance for many years.

However, a study of the original passage from which this image arises shows that the “bitter root” is not an attitude, but rather it a person or a type of person.  I say this because Deuteronomy 29:18, from which this metaphor comes, is clearly talking about a person who apostatizes and is trying to influence others away from God.

Beware lest there be among you a man or woman or clan or tribe whose heart is turning away today from the LORD our God to go and serve the gods of those nations. Beware lest there be among you a root bearing poisonous and bitter fruit,

I say this also because vv. 16-17 illustrate this idea of a bitter root by referring to the person of Esau as an example.  So the “root bearing poisonous and bitter fruit” is “a man or woman or clan or tribe whose heart is turning away today from the LORD our God to go and serve the gods of the nations.”

The biggest danger is that it is first a hidden root which no one notices, but when it springs up it is “poisonous” and “bitter.”  So it is important for us to be carefully watching one another’s lives so that this initially hidden root never has a chance to spring up and bear the fruit of discord and further apostasy.

In Deuteronomy 29, Moses is reminding the people of the gross idolatry that they had witnessed while enslaved in Egypt and while they had wandered in the wilderness (Deut. 29:16-17).  If they witnessed it with hearts committed to Yahweh alone, they couldn’t help but be repulsed by what they had seen, and they surely would never want to participate in it.

But God knows our unfaithful hearts and He warns His people through Moses that nobody in Israel—neither individuals, nor families, nor tribes—was to get involved in idolatry; for any idolator would become that “bitter root” and could then defile the whole nation.

The writer of Hebrews is applying this warning to the local assembly because he knew that “one sinner destroys much good” (Eccl. 9:18), like our saying, “One bad apple can spoil the bunch.”  Even if the offenders kept their sins hidden and private and were therefore confident that they could escape judgment, the Lord would know and He would judge and sooner or later it would come to light.

In the case of the ancient Israelites, they would be plagued and killed and their names would be blotted out from under heaven (Deut. 9:14; Exod. 32:32-33).  They would suffer from all the plagues named in Deuteronomy 28.  The penalty for these first century apostates is spelled out later in this chapter.

John MacArthur says about the situation our author of Hebrews is addressing:

The root of bitterness refers to a person who is superficially identified with God’s people, and who falls back into paganism.  But he is no ordinary apostate.  He is arrogant and defiant concerning the things of God.  He thumbs His nose at the Lord.  God’s response to such boastful unbelief is harsh and final.

Kent Hughes reminds us:

The call here is for vigilance.  Certainly this does not enjoin a witch hunt.  The Lord specifically warned against such a response because such actions would tear out real wheat with the weeds (Matthew 13:24–30).  Nevertheless, we must be alert.  Every fellowship of any size has a few “bitter roots” who follow false gods and subtly poison those around them.  If we are to run well, the price is vigilance—especially in the good times.

The second way that one might fall short of God’s grace was to imitate the “sexually immoral” practice of Esau.  It is likely that these last two dangers are to be taken together, both expressing the minefield of our appetites, our sexual appetite and our physical appetite.  Sexual immorality is a defilement of the body; “godlessness” is a defilement of the soul.  Listen to the words of our author:

that no one is sexually immoral or unholy like Esau, who sold his birthright for a single meal.

The word “sexually immoral” is pornos, from which we get the word pornography.  It refers to any act which excites and fulfills physical lust in a sexual way which is “out of bounds” according to God’s Word.

Let’s look at the Old Testament text, from Genesis 25.  Remember that there was struggling in the womb in their birth, and God had revealed to Rebekah, their mother:

“Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples from within you shall be divided; the one shall be stronger than the other, the older shall serve the younger” (Genesis 25:23).

Esau was the firstborn of twin sons. His name meant “red.” His younger brother came out grabbing his heel, so he was named “Jacob” which means grabber. And that’s pretty much what Jacob did all his life.

Then later we read…

27 When the boys grew up, Esau was a skillful hunter, a man of the field, while Jacob was a quiet man, dwelling in tents. 28 Isaac loved Esau because he ate of his game, but Rebekah loved Jacob.

29 Once when Jacob was cooking stew, Esau came in from the field, and he was exhausted. 30 And Esau said to Jacob, “Let me eat some of that red stew, for I am exhausted!” (Therefore his name was called Edom.) 31 Jacob said, “Sell me your birthright now.” 32 Esau said, “I am about to die; of what use is a birthright to me?” 33 Jacob said, “Swear to me now.” So he swore to him and sold his birthright to Jacob. 34 Then Jacob gave Esau bread and lentil stew, and he ate and drank and rose and went his way. Thus Esau despised his birthright.

Some question whether the adjective “sexually immoral” should be attached to Esau or if it is simply indefinite, (that is, “anyone who is sexually immoral”) and only the adjective “godless” is to be attached to Esau’s record.

Interestingly, the Old Testament does not say he was a fornicator unless it is implied in his marrying the two Canaanite daughters of Heth, who subsequently made life miserable for his parents (cf. Genesis 26:34, 35).  Rabbinical tradition, however, both Palestinian and Hellenistic, paints Esau as a man completely subject to his libido.

Philo of Alexandria in his Questions and Answers on Genesis made this observation regarding Esau: “The hairy one is the unrestrained, lecherous, impure and unholy man” (Philo, Question and Answers on Genesis , trans. Ralph Marcus, The Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge, MA: Harvard, 1979), p. 494). 

The Palestinian Targum on Genesis 25:29 describes him as coming home exhausted on the same day he sold Jacob his birthright and saying that on “that day he had committed five transgressions,” one of which was adultery with a betrothed maiden ( Bruce, The Epistle to the Hebrews , p. 367).  This is Jewish tradition and not inspired Scripture, but clearly these commentators took the whole life story of Esau and attributed these behaviors to him.)

So R. Kent Hughes concludes, “The indictment from extra-Biblical literature parallels the revelation of Holy Scripture—that Esau was a pornos subject to the whims of his tomcat nature—the archetype of the modern-day testosterone man. His essential sensuality made God quite unreal to him—as lust always does” (Hebrews: Volume 2, p. 183).

God’s Word regards sexual sins as particularly heinous, and persistent engagement in sexual sin evidences a heart that is hardened against the Lord (Lev. 18; Rom. 1:26-27). Of course, the Lord will forgive all those who truly repent of sexual sin (1 John 1:8-9; 1 Cor. 6:9-11), but we dare not trifle with it. Sexual immorality has caused many professing believers to fall away from the Christian faith over the centuries.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Temptation (London: SCM Press, 1961), p. 33, writes:

It makes no difference whether it is sexual desire, or ambition, or vanity, or desire for revenge, or love of fame and power, or greed for money, or, finally, that strange desire for the beauty of the world, of nature.  Joy in God is in the course of being extinguished in us and we seek all our joy in the creature.  At this moment God is quite unreal to us, he loses all reality, and only desire for the creature is real; the only reality is the devil.  Satan does not here fill us with hatred of God, but with forgetfulness of God. And now his falsehood is added to this proof of strength.  The lust thus aroused envelops the mind and will of man in deepest darkness.  The powers of clear discrimination and of decision are taken from us.  The questions present themselves: “Is what the flesh desires really sin in this case?”  “Is it really not permitted to me, yes—expected of me, now, here, in my particular situation, to appease desire?”  The tempter puts me in a privileged position as he tried to put the hungry Son of God in a privileged position.  I boast of my privilege against God.  It is here that everything within me rises up against the Word of God.

And this leads us directly into the third danger that causes us to miss God’s grace, and that is being “unholy” (Greek bebelos).  Bebelos speaks of someone who was debarred from going across the threshold of the temple to worship, or possibly someone who trampled underfoot the threshold of the temple, thus treating it in a disrespectful way.

This describes a person who has no regard or respect for God, or basically goes through life not even giving God a thought.  Why?  Because their focus is so much on the pleasures and possessions of this life.

Calvin says of such that they are:

“. . . those in whom the love of the world so holds sway and prevails, that they forget heaven as men who are carried away by ambition, addicted to money and riches, given over to gluttony, and entangled with other kinds of pleasures, and give the spiritual kingdom of Christ either no place or the last place in their concerns” (William B. Johnston, trans., Calvin’s Commentaries: The Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Hebrews and the First and Second Epistles of St. Peter (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1963), p. 197

Esau, remember “despised his birthright.”  He sold it for a pot of stew because he was famished!  He totally devalued the things of God in order to meet a physical desire.  Esau “sold his birthright for a single meal” (Heb. 12:16).

Esau, as firstborn, had the birthright and was entitled to the blessing, a double portion of the father’s estate (cf. Deut. 21:17), as well as religious leadership of the family.

This last aspect didn’t ever seem to interest Esau, however, so when the need came up, Esau traded was should have been most precious to him, his birthright, for a pot of stew to ease his hunger pangs for a few moments.

Again, Esau came in from the fields, having worked hard all day and said “Let me eat some of that red stew, for I am exhausted!”  But Jacob said, “Sell me your birthright now.”

What was Esau’s response, but “”I am about to die; of what use is a birthright to me?”

Clearly exaggerating his near-death hunger, it reveals his attitude toward his birthright.  Esau chose a cheap meal over the divine promise.  And Jacob said, “”Swear to me now.”  So Esau swore to him and sold his birthright to Jacob.

Now, Jacob may have been a jerk, but Esau was a fool.  He is the consummate illustration of a person who, for the sake of immediate gratification, forfeits something of immeasurably greater value, in this case, his inheritance.

While it may not have seemed like a big deal, we get God’s perspective on this issue at the end of this chapter, “Thus Esau despised his birthright.”

Esau’s thinking, and thus his value system, was totally earthbound.  He gave no thought to God, to eternal issues or to spiritual things.  His thoughts were all about what he could touch and taste, in particular what would fill his stomach.

Thus, he was “godless,” showing ultimate disrespect to God and what God valued.

R. Kent Hughes concludes:

Esau was like a living beer commercial—bearded, steroid-macho, with two things on his mind: sexual pleasure and physical pleasure—food, drink, sports, and sleep. “Hey, you only go around once. You have to get it while you can.” He was the prototype of modern godlessness—like the forty-five-year old man who had spent all his post-college years devoted to money and when asked, “How is it with your soul?” answered candidly, “My soul?  I don’t even know whether I have one.”  Tragic! (Hebrews, Volume 2, p.

On the other hand Jacob, Esau’s brother, although he was not in these cases a model of ethics or integrity, did genuinely value the things of God.  The birthright and the blessing were precious to him, although he tried to procure them by less than honorable means.  There were times in his life when he trusted God and relied on God; but his brother disregarded God and trusted only in himself.

“Esau’s willingness to give up all that was his as the firstborn son reflected a contempt for the covenant by which his rights were warranted.  By descriptive analogy, he is representative of apostate persons who are ready to turn their backs on God and the divine promises, in reckless disregard of the covenant blessings secured by the sacrificial death of Jesus.  The immediate reference is to the objective blessings of ‘peace’ and ‘holiness,’ specified in v 14.  With the example of Esau, apostasy is further defined as a decisive rejection of God’s gifts ” (William Lane, Hebrews 9—13, pp. 445-46)

Esau’s negative example is put here to warn this first-century audience and us in the 21st century not to be like Esau.  We must be careful that we do not sell away what God considers precious for a few minutes of flesh-satisfying pleasure.

The next verse tells us that Esau could not reverse this decision.  In spite of the fact that he “desired to inherit the blessing, he was rejected…”  He even repented with tears.  But the situation was irreversible.  We will deal with this issue next week.

Again, our author is supplying this negative example of Esau to warn his readers not to give up what was most valuable—the sufficiency and supremacy of Jesus Christ—and opt for something that was comfortable and convenient—to go back to the law.  They would escape persecution this way.  It would be more familiar and convenient, but they would be sacrificing Jesus Christ, the better sacrifice.