Author: Christine Wyrtzen

For who heard and rebelled? Wasn’t it really all who came out of Egypt under Moses?   And who was He provoked with for 40 years? Was it not with those who sinned, whose bodies fell in the wilderness? They were unable to enter because of unbelief. Hebrews 3:16-19

Is God easily provoked?  Do I see Him as a picky Father who punishes the least little thing?  Do I find myself sticking up for the rights of the Israelites to enter the promised land?  Maybe I excuse their unbelief because they were just scared.  Every enemy was different in character and in their number.  Every turn on the journey held a different and unwelcome surprise.  Didn’t they just feel helpless and afraid?  And when people are afraid, they do lash out and do unpredictable things.

But, to put their unbelief in perspective, I consider a child who holds a father’s hand.  They’re about to encounter something frightening and this exchange takes place.

 “Daddy, I don’t want to go. I’m scared.”   

“I know you’re scared.  Trust me and it will be okay.”

“But I’m really scared.  How about if I stay here and you take someone else?”

“No, I really want to take you. Please trust me.”  The father squeezes her hand tighter and she decides to go. 

The father would not be angry because she was scared.  He would not be angry that she thought of an alternative.  He was eager to repeat, “Don’t be afraid.  Trust me.”  He knows how frightening things looked and the important thing was her obedience in the end.

Translating this to Father God and His children of Israel, their sin was not in having to work through fear.  It was not that they were intimidated by armies that far outnumbered them.  It was not that they despaired when they ran out of food.  That, He understood.  The Old Testament is dotted with conversations where God comforts and says, “Do not fear!”  So, that wasn’t it.  Their sin was in the action they took to do what they felt was best instead of doing what God asked of them.  Their unbelief caused them to go to war when they shouldn’t have, to build idols instead of fast and pray, and to intermarry to satisfy their desire to fit in instead of being willing to be separate, to be God’s unique and chosen people.

God was not picky, He was patient.  They didn’t go their own way just one time.  They sinned, in stiff-necked rebellion, throughout 40 years.  They did have sterling period of faith but for the most part, their lives could be characterized as people who were unwilling to listen to the voice of God.  While much of their unbelief did begin with fear, it quickly morphed into ugly entitlement.  “How dare you bring us to the wilderness.  And you say you love us?!”

It’s good to re-read the Exodus/wilderness account again, slowly, and ask God to see the events from His perspective.  As human parents, we would have been provoked and then probably lashed out much sooner than God did.  In spite of the fact that their unbelief kept them from the promised land, God was still longsuffering and merciful.

Why am I so easily led to dispute Your love and discount Your promises?  Now, that is the question. Amen

Watch out, brothers, so that there won’t be in any of you an evil, unbelieving heart that departs from the living God. But encourage each other daily, while it is still called today, so that none of you is hardened by sin’s deception. Hebrews 3:12-13

So, how does it happen?  If you’ve been a believer for a while, you’ve heard the story of a strong Christian who just woke up one morning and snapped.  He announced that he wanted to completely change his life ~ starting with leaving the faith.  He said that he doesn’t believe any of it anymore and he simply doesn’t want the life he’s known.  When news spreads, there is disbelief among his family and friends.  They didn’t see it coming at all.

Today’s scripture highlights what can cause such extreme behavior.  While it appeared that this person’s decision was sudden and out of the blue, it probably wasn’t in his inner life.  None of us throws everything away because our heart hardened overnight.  None of us will wake up one day to discover that we no longer believe.  The journey away from God is a slow process and I must be intimate enough with God to guard my faith. The initial warning needs to be discerned in neon lights.

The writer of Hebrews ties unbelief and deception together.  For someone to defect, it started with a seed thought that germinated over time.

“I don’t trust God because . . .” 

“If God loved me, then He wouldn’t have allowed . . .” 

“God didn’t keep His promise when . . .”

An uncontested lie metastasizes.  I am naïve to think that it won’t affect all the other areas where I do believe God.   It will.  Unbelief is connected to something important that didn’t come to pass, or it’s attached to something that did transpire that I couldn’t handle.  The birthplace was deep pain and disappointment.  I may not voice the churning but my heart says, privately, “If I can’t trust God in this one big thing, then how can I trust Him with everything else?”  Instead of facing the unbelief head on with scripture and warfare, the hurt and lies get rehearsed and seeds germinate.

Distrust and disappointment have hardened many hearts along the way, including my own.  I can look back and see how fragile my faith was at certain points. The safeguard is knowing my Achilles heel. It is staying open to the Spirit as He brings unbelief to center stage.  It is staying close to a handful of believers who hear me process my life’s story as it happens.  It is giving them the power to listen compassionately, to encourage transparency in order to understand how I am interpreting life’s events. Spirit partners are critical to encourage faith when faith doesn’t make sense.  They are not policemen but wise counselors.  They are not immune to faithlessness but are well acquainted with how wounded hearts heal.

Lord, no wonder you said to take every thought captive.  It’s rugged introspection but lies are identified when they first happen ~ before passing thoughts make themselves at home.  Help me.  Amen

Therefore, as the Holy Spirit says: Today, if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion, on the day of testing in the wilderness, where your fathers tested Me, tried Me, and saw My works for 40 years. Hebrews 3:7-9 

One of the signs of getting older is telling others the same stories over and over. You think it’s not going to happen to you, but I find myself saying quite often, “If I’ve told you this, stop me!”  Most of the time, stories over lunch need only be told once.  But there are exceptions.  Teachers repeat themselves to get important facts across.  Parents repeat themselves to teach fundamental principles.  Lovers build a repetitive love language because they can’t help themselves and they know that you can’t say ‘I love you’ often enough.  I, perhaps like you, even have things I repeat to our pets.  I make up songs, poems, and enjoy calling them endearing nicknames. It’s fun to sing them and eventually, the animals come running when they hear something they recognize.

One thing about scripture is how often it repeats itself.  Jesus quoted the Old Testament 78 times.  Most books will also reference direct quotes from previous authors and there are also indirect quotes.

• Direct quotes: 302
• Allusions to other passages: 493
• Possible allusions: 138

When God repeats Himself, as His child, I must sit up at attention to ask why.  God is not forgetful, so He is intentionally choosing to say something a second or third time.  There are no stray words that exit His mouth.  No word or phrase is insignificant.  Furthermore, God doesn’t even need language to make a point.

In today’s scripture, the writer of Hebrews reaches back to quote Psalm 95.  The topic is ‘being careful not to harden my heart.’  God not only repeated himself this once, but it’s repeated 42 more times.  It must be critical.  I must not know how easily I allow my heart to get hard and calloused.  It’s instinctive to my flesh and therefore I must be on guard to prevent it from happening.

For me, hardening my heart happens for several reasons.  When I want something different than what God wants for me and turn off my ears to a command, when I repeatedly refuse to embrace a promise as mine, when I refute His proclamations of love because He doesn’t relieve my pain, when I’m tested and get angry with the test, when people I love hurt longer than I think they should, when the person delivering God’s Word is someone I don’t like ~ these are often the catalysts.

God tested His people in the wilderness.  Testing was to bring about spiritual growth, to tone their faith muscles, but they strained under the lessons and chose the easy way out.  Unbelief and rebellion were always the result.  The long-term tragedy was that most in that generation never saw Canaan.  The cost for turning off God’s voice is more than I can afford but I think I’ll be the exception. Satan lies!  I’ll miss out on what I believe I’m seeking elsewhere ~ blessing and reward.

I’m asking this one thing today, Father.  Have I hardened my heart about anything that You’ve told me?  I am sincerely asking.  Show me.  Amen

Now Moses was faithful in all God’s house as a servant, to testify to the things that were to be spoken later, but Christ is faithful over God’s house as a son. And we are his house, if indeed we hold fast our confidence and our boasting in our hope.  Hebrews 3:5-6

Put yourself in the center of the plot of the following story.

Next Christmas, around December 1^st, you receive a beautiful looking envelope in the mail.  It’s obviously a card of some type.  It’s as thick as a wedding invitation.  You wonder who it is that’s getting married.  You open the envelope and the inside of the flap is gold foil.  You gasp and remark out loud to yourself, “This might be the most beautiful stationery I’ve ever seen.”

Inside that envelope is another one, also foil lined, and you discover that you’ve been invited to a royal Christmas event at the home of a well-known and well-respected person.  You have several weeks to plan what you will wear.  You rehearse what you might say to the host to express your delight in being included on his guest list.

The day arrives.  You’ve got everything laid out.  You are more dressed up than you can remember being for some time.  This occasion has called for extra attention to attire and presentation.  You arrive at the home.  It is lit up so beautifully and the entrance takes your breath away.  At the door, you are greeted by the senior footman.  He has been entrusted to represent the owner and he is impressive.  His manner is gracious yet professional.  He makes you feel welcome and you are mesmerized as you watch this footman welcome each guest in the same way.

The footman further captivates you as you see his attention to the beautifully laid out table and his meticulous execution of the serving of the meal.  He never misses a beat and never have you seen a man so impressive.

The owner is there all evening and is extremely engaging.  He makes it clear that he’d like to include you at more estate events.  For some odd reason, you are in his favor.  But all these realities are mere distractions.  What arrests you, and leaves you speechless, is the footman!  You go home to tell of your experience. They are dying to hear all about your adventure but are incredulous that you never mention the owner and master of the estate, the one who initiated your invitation and signed it personally. Your stories revolve around a hired servant of the household.

Preposterous, right?  And yet, is this not what today’s scripture describes?  Moses, one of God’s servants, has become the focus.  The Son – who owns the house – is not glorified.

The Jew’s confidence was not to be in Moses, nor was it to be in Abraham, the father of their faith.  Their hope was to be placed in the Messiah.  Likewise, our confidence is not in those who passed down their faith to us.  Parents, grandparents, pastors and teachers; they are the servants.  May I never glorify feet of clay and lose the stars in my eyes for the Alpha and Omega who invited me to be His very own.  I’m feasting at His table and who else is there just pales in comparison.

Lord, I thank you for every faithful servant who has shaped my life. They testify of you and your glory begs to be seen.  I hold You high above my life and boast only of You.  Amen

For Jesus has been counted worthy of more glory than Moses—as much more glory as the builder of a house has more honor than the house itself.  Hebrews 3:3

Oh, what little god makers are we!  No matter where we worship, if it’s not at the feet of Jesus, it’s both laughable and tragic.  Whether golden calves or statues of Athena, God made the gold and the bronze and He is not even considered.

If I read Hebrews and imagine Paul, or whomever, writing a series of verses as casually as he would write a letter to a friend, I misjudge him.  I render myself incapable of imagining the intensity with which he speaks.  At what hour of the night did he awaken to light a candle and pour out these powerful words.

“Wake up. Jesus is more glorious than Moses.”

Though this letter was written to Jewish people, and though most (to this day) still revere their heroes of the faith, I am easily as guilty of holding God’s creations in reverence. I can dream of meeting Moses one day because he held the 10 commandments in his hand and saw the face of God.  Why am I not as taken with beholding the face of God for myself? I hold something greater in my hands than a tablet of stone; the completed revelation of God.  At this moment, it sits inches away from me as I write.  At great cost to Martin Luther, and others, it has been translated into English so that I could enjoy the privilege of opening it and feasting at God’s table.

I can worship a famous musician, a sports star, a well-known Christian author, a childhood home, even things such as a rare collection of cars, teapots, Hummel figurines, gold coins, rare books, and grey tabby kittens.  The list is endless and whether man, or object, each is preposterous.

The writer of Hebrews has beheld Jesus in all His glory.  The message is clear and compelling.  Look up.  See who is in front you.  You’re overlooking the creator and fixated on His creation.  You’re missing the greater glory.  Your awe is misplaced.   Hear the distant thunder of hooves.  The glorious One, with more glory than you can ever comprehend is coming for you.

“I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice he judges and makes war. His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns. He has a name written on him that no one knows but he himself. He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is the Word of God. The armies of heaven were following him, riding on white horses and dressed in fine linen, white and clean. Out of his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations. “He will rule them with an iron scepter.” He treads the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh he has this name written: KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS.” Revelation19:11-16

For because He Himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.  Hebrews 2:18

Just after Ron and I were married, we had a neighbor we got to know quite well.  Her first question when seeing either of us was, “How are you?”  If one of us said that we broke our ankle, her reply was, “I’ve done that!”  If you had pancreatitis, again she would say, “Oh, I’ve had that.”  Whether the flu, thyroid imbalance, or an ingrown toenail, she’s always ‘had that.’  It became a joke.  How effective do you think her empathy was for whatever we were facing?  Not very.

When scripture says that Jesus is perfectly able to help us in our time of need, there is His incarnation to back it up.  I’m sure He understood us well without coming to earth but I don’t think we would have a deep assurance that He did.  We needed to know that He lived here, made friends with those like us who were flawed, that He got sick, that He struggled with family, that He truly understands the layers of complexity that go with human pain.  A year’s illness doesn’t just make you feel physically sick.  It’s accompanied by temptations to question God, to explore how prayer works and wonder, at times, why God doesn’t answer the way you want.

No one can comfort like the one who has really walked the same road.  If I experience the death of a child, I’m going to turn to one who has also lost a child.  They are well familiar with the days surrounding the death.  They know the numbness, the shock, and the surreal experience.  They know the auto pilot that sets in at the funeral.  They know that the absence of tears doesn’t mean there isn’t any grief.  They can predict that three months down the road, there will be a moment when the loss will be more real and overwhelming.  They know that I will really need comfort then, maybe more comfort than at the beginning.  These subtle understandings of the journey are only found in those who have walked it.  All those who say they understand probably don’t.  And in our gut, we can tell the difference, right?  The one who quotes a bible verse offers a Bandaid and is probably a quick study from someone else’s story.

There’s a difference between sympathy and empathy.  “You poor thing” is not something any of us want to hear.  It is not helpful nor is it encouraging.  Empathy, however, is being able to feel another’s pain from firsthand experience.  How comforting to hear, “There’s not a thing I can say to you right now but I want you to know that I’m here and I care.”

Jesus empathizes.  Whatever crisis of faith you are experiencing, He understands and can walk you through it to generate faith instead of fear.

How many times have I heard you say in prayer, “I know.”  I trust Your embrace and Your comfort.  Amen

Therefore, He had to be like His brothers in every way, so that He could become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people. Hebrews 2:17

Propitiation is a word we usually pass over when it appears in a scripture verse.  It’s intimidating and hard to pronounce but it just means ‘substitute’.  Jesus was our substitute sacrifice.

Man was born with an awareness of his estrangement from God.  Worshippers, even in the world, knew this well.  They would bring their sacrifices; animals, even newborn babies, and kill them at the altar, all for the purpose of appeasing angry gods.  While their faith was misplaced, their conscience was right in know that a god who bore wrath needed to be appeased.  Praise God that He sent Jesus, who bore God’s wrath for us, so that we could appear guiltless before His Father.

William Cowper, a prolific hymn writer, came to Christ through understanding the meaning of propitiation.  Orphaned at six years old, he was sent to a boarding school where he suffered extreme mistreatment by bullies.  He was a frail child with an artistic temperament, an easy target for peers who abused power.  In 1756, when he was just 25 years old, he was committed to an asylum to supposedly live out a life sentence.  He is quoted to have said, “My sin!  My sin! Oh, for some fountain to cleanse me.”  The torment which fed his instability was little more than recognition of His need for forgiveness.

God heard.  He sent a doctor who was a gentle old man, a follower of Christ.  God used him to bring William to faith.  When He shared Hebrews 2:17 with him, the power of Christ’s death washed over this broken young man and he understood the magnificent implications.  He embraced Christ and the powerful experience was captured with his pen.

There is a fountain filled with blood

Drawn from Immanuel’s veins;

And sinners, plunged beneath that flood,

Lose all their guilty stains.

Many have ended their lives in suicide because they were overcome with guilt.  Others live out a life sentence of depression and regret as they rehearse their failures like a favorite old movie.  The track record haunts them like a ghost.  Some with OCD scrub their hands till they bleed in order to find a kind of cleansing that brings relief.  All if offered in Christ.  Complete cleansing, one that lasts forever, is offered in the fountain of his blood.

I stand in the flow and, with tears, say thank you. Amen

Now since the children have flesh and blood in common, Jesus also shared in these, so that through His death He might destroy the one holding the power of death—that is, the Devil — and free those who were held in slavery all their lives by the fear of death. Hebrews 2:14-15

I was riveted some months ago when I watched a South African mini-series called The Book of Negroes.  The true-story revolves around a woman named Aminata.  She was kidnapped in Africa and then became a slave in South Carolina.  She had to survive the complicated times of the American Revolution in New York, isolation in Nova Scotia, and then the treacherous jungles of Sierra Leone, in an attempt to win her freedom.  Aminata was instrumental in keeping records of the movement of slaves throughout the Eastern colonies, chronicling the struggles of each one to try to gain their freedom.  The Book of Negroes exists today in the National Archives in London and Washington, D.C.

The capture of innocent men, women, and children in Sierra Leone, their horrific voyage across the sea, the disregard of their families in the colonies, and the lengths to which mankind will go to enslave others for their own benefit, is both shocking and unforgettable.  It didn’t take long in the dozen episodes to bond with Aminata and to enter into her pain of enslavement.  At the time I watched it, I had the flu and proceeded to watch the whole thing in a day.  All throughout it, at various times, it appeared she was on the edge of freedom – only to be captured again.  The ending is one of the most beautiful endings of someone’s story I’ve ever witnessed in real life or on screen.

Why does the story of slavery resonate in our hearts?  And why should the topic move us to outrage and then to involvement in the cause of setting others free?  There are many reasons but I immediately think of two. 1.) It still goes on today for those who are sex trafficked all around us. It’s at our back door.  2.) And, we know firsthand what it is to be enslaved to our past, enslaved to an addition, enslaved to our enemy, and enslaved to our flesh.

Jesus came to share in our experience with the devil.  He made Himself vulnerable to his temptations, taunting, and torment.  He, who once exercised the power to cast Him out of heaven, became One who suffered under Satan’s schemes.  Why?  To walk in our footsteps.  To prove how much He loves us.  To face the same temptations and show us how to win spiritual battles with His enemy.  To show, through live illustration, the weapons available for our victory.   He came to destroy the works of the evil one and to free those (you/me) who were held in slavery all our lives by fear of death.

It is way too easy to disengage emotionally and read words like slavery and the power of death without feeling anything.  Perhaps I’ve gotten way too used to my freedom and a life that is fueled by the power of the Spirit.  I get lazy and believe that I am the one who is powerful and good, that I am above slavery.  It is good to ask God often to show me who I would be today, and would have been, without Jesus and the power He exercised to free me from slavery.  If He made a movie of my life, perhaps He would show me a different ending ~ the one that ‘would have been’ without the cross and His incarnation.

In all the ways this subject affects me, melt my frozen heart.  Amen

**Too see the series’ preview, go to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RoC3V000e1g

Now since the children have flesh and blood in common, Jesus also shared in these, so that through His death He might destroy the one holding the power of death—that is, the Devil — and free those who were held in slavery all their lives by the fear of death.  Hebrews 2:14

Jesus accepted our limitations when He came to earth.  He lived in the flesh and blood shell of a man and though He could have allowed the likeness to stop there, He took on all that went with it.  He was willing to be hungry and thirsty.  He was willing live in a body that succumbed to injury.  He was willing to be weary, lonely, get His feelings hurt, and yearn for deep relationships.  Just because He decided to live in human form didn’t mean He had to partake of the rest of it ~ but He did.

I am not sure I can appreciate what it was like for a perfect God, who lived in a perfect heaven, who shared perfect relationships within the Trinity, who enjoyed perfect worship from angels, to enter into the Fall and experience all the brokenness of mankind.  The Creator who made the Garden a perfect paradise for His creation, the One who grieved as He outlined the specifics of what ‘paradise lost’ would mean, proceeded to live here.  I can’t understand the shock, physically and emotionally, for Jesus to live in a sinful world.

Though He was like me in every way, there was one difference.  He wasn’t a sinner. He was perfect, and as One perfect, I contend that He felt the imperfections all the more.  Once you’ve tasted glory, anything that falls short is so much more jarring.

The older I get and the closer I get to Jesus, the more the images of this earth hurt my eyes, the more imperfect relationships feel, the more painful the contrast between the world and the kingdom.  There’s a reason Jesus said to fix our eyes on Him.  He is ‘home on the horizon’.  Without Him as my focal point, life would swallow me up.  Old age would hold nothing but disillusionment.

Instead, God is gracious to give me tastes of perfection now, glimpses of what is to come.  There are moments when fellowship is the heaven-kind, moments when a friend lays down her life for me and I know it is driven by her prayer life, and so many moments when marriage and family provide a safe sanctuary that can only be explained by our faith.  Jesus makes it all possible because He came, tasted the worst of it, and then died to free me from the slavery of sin and death.  The shroud of hopelessness that plagues this world is not mine to wear.  Though my body and soul groan for life in God’s presence, my spirit is already there.  It is one with Christ, seated in heavenly places.  How much of that I experience depends on how much I feed my spirit.  Jesus survived this earth through His connection with His Father.  My way through the wilderness depends on how much, and how often, I feed the same connection.

You once said, “Look to me and live.”  In every way today holds imperfection, I will look to You, get my bearings, and step in kingdom life.  Amen

As it is, we do not yet see everything subjected to him. But we do see Jesus—made lower than the angels for a short time so that by God’s grace He might taste death for everyone—crowned with glory and honor because of His suffering in death.  Hebrews 2:9 

In the Gospels, we read about Jesus extensively as a person but we don’t read a detailed description of how His full authority operates.  Every single thing that is under His feet is not mentioned by name nor does it describe how subjection works.  Imagine if we could see a movie of this in all realms; mankind, nature, the animal world, even outer space.  The extent of His power would leave us floored.

But what if this story were reversed?  What if the Gospels described only His authority but then failed to tell me what He is like?  I would see a person with incredible power but wouldn’t know Him at all.  I would be in awe but not intimate.  I would be impressed but from afar.  I would be fearful with no courage to draw near.  My default response to someone with power and influence is to usually back up and peek from around a corner.

It is no mistake that the writer of Hebrews goes on to describe Jesus as someone who was made lower than the angels, someone who loved us enough to die for us before He was crowned in glory.  The miracle is that One so powerful is not into power at the expense of love.  Love was the driving force when Jesus came to us in humble fashion. He served instead of waiting to be served.  He loved and then waited for love to respond in kind.

He could have planned it all differently.  Imagine, if from the beginning, God created man and then sent an angel from on high to give mandates.  Every so often, new laws would be delivered with muscle behind it.  Man would obey but cower in fear at a God who could make life and take his life with just a word.  We would serve but not love; obey but not yearn for His presence. This forced submission would accomplish nothing for God as He created us for intimacy, companionship, and for His glory.

Jesus’ death made it safe to draw so close to Him that we would hear Him breathe. Even in the Old Testament, God uses the imagery of being tucked under His wings.  When the prophet Balaam was hired to put a curse on Israel, he refused and uttered a blessing instead.  He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide make his dwelling under the shadow of the Almighty.  Numbers 24:5  Every time a Jew wrapped his tallit (shawl) around his shoulders and covered his head, it was symbolic of being under God’s wings.  Even today, when a Jewish girl marries, she gives a tallit to her fiancé, a beautiful picture of what will happen in marriage when she is tucked under His protective care.

Every living thing and every single person is in subjection to Christ either by choice, or later by force, when every knee will bow.  For each of us who choose Christ now, subjection means security.

In every way I’m afraid of You instead of in awe of You, correct the eyesight of my heart. In every way I need to draw closer, show me.  Amen