Patchwork on Hebrews

The following is a mix of thoughts on Hebrews, on faithfulness, and the conviction of my own need for His sustaining grace as I press on, homeward.

The Christian life—it’s not just about playing the part, but about experiencing the grace of God for ourselves, and this comes through the strenuous pursuit of the common means of grace. It’s common, it’s daily, it’s hourly. These practices of meeting God in worship, in the Supper, in the Word—they meet sin, kill sin, uncovering all those bare places in us, and bringing us to love the things of God which we would otherwise hate. We become more and more repulsed at our own selves, and we run on. Christ has been made like us, He has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. In Him is our sufficiency.

The Son is God’s Message to us. The law is now written in our hearts, and we possess that message so long awaited by generations of God’s people. They pursued, sight unseen, and though we still live in the not yet, God’s plot has unfolded to a striking degree. God has done what the law could not do, what He never had to do, what no one could have asked or expected. He has done the impossible, and ransomed sinners by Himself by coming among them and suffering the price for their sin. He has pursued them to the gates of hell—pursued us to the gates of hell. We have loved our own way, but He has become the way back to the presence of God for willful insurgents. 

So when my heart rises up within me and I get my own way, I grieve. As Owen wrote, “He that has great thoughts of sin never had great thoughts of God.” Oh, may I hate what He hates, love what He loves!

The stakes are high for us as we seek to persevere. And our perseverance (or lack) affects those around us. Our sin affects those with whom we are in relationship, and the unbelievers who observe us.

We can never let down our guard, never stop running the race. Breathless, sweating, sometimes the scenery is beautiful, sometimes rugged, but ease and comfort aren’t nearly the entitlement we think they are.

This, then is our call: to cultivate a heart that follows hard after Christ, that finds all sufficiency in Him—the heart of a martyr, no matter what happens to us. As John Piper challenged a group of pastors, if you aren’t delighting in Christ before persecution comes, do you think you will delight in Him all of a sudden when the day arrives?

We all have hearts that are susceptible in falling away from the living God. Do we have a believing or an unbelieving heart? Our works will flow from genuine faith. "Prone to wander, Lord I feel it!" 

What do our hearts need? Exhortation! Sin needs to be made known, and we need a brother to speak to that situation. We need each other. God has ordained the church as a means of grace—both through the minister and the congregation sitting around us. We need this today—every day, because sin happens every day, and the hardening of our hearts can happen in an instant. What is true Christian friendship? Is it talking about nothings all day? We need friends who are actually going to care for our souls, and for whom we ourselves can care--this is critical. 

On this long pilgrimage I cannot afford to fall asleep at the wheel. The journey is beyond all human power, and in my own strength I would faint, I would fall. He sustains, He is faithful to complete His work, and it is to His preserving grace I cling.

The overlapping of the ages—this is the in-between which we now inhabit. 

 

“They, whom God has accepted in His Beloved, effectually called, and sanctified by His Spirit, can neither totally nor finally fall away from the state of grace, but shall certainly persevere therein to the end, and be eternally saved.” 
–WCF XVII.I