Are you struggling with temptation, hardship, or even, when it comes to your Christian life, apathy? If so, you’re not alone. Jesus himself, knowing the challenges, spoke of the need to persevere. Hebrews addresses a congregation whose members were in some cases worn down by the challenges of life and as a result were like a boat adrift (2.1, 12.3). Others were crumbling in the face of temptation (3.12, 4.2). Still others were losing the wonder of gathering together before the divine presence (10.25, 12.22-24). Hebrews warns that these are serious dangers, and—worryingly—that drifting, crumbling, and failing to gather, can lead to sin. And sin connects with unbelief and interferes with one’s relationship with God.
In the face of such struggles, the writer of Hebrews addresses his readers in loving but firm language. He has much to say about who they are in relation to this world and in the eyes of God. But his antidote, and his starting point, isn’t a discussion of his congregation. His beginning, middle, and end draw attention to Jesus—and exhort us to look to one who died, and lives, and is exalted—all for us.
In other words, Hebrews tells its readers that their internal map doesn’t correspond to the true boundaries of the cosmos. They think they are defined, or at least controlled, by what’s in front of them—namely this day, and this life, with all its challenges and maybe even ugliness. Oh sure, we can find some good in most days, but when the scales overwhelmingly tip toward life’s troubles, it is no surprise if we come undone. So, this writer moves to the centre those things that actually belong there. And once we recognise this north star, this Jesus who is at once boundary marker and cornerstone, life itself can begin to make sense.
So, what’s the good of looking to Jesus? That is, why should we look to him when so many alternatives vie for our attention and would happily define our horizons? Here are five reasons.
- Jesus is greater.
Hebrews argues that Jesus surpasses angels and Moses. He also shows his superiority to the prophets, high priesthood, tabernacle, and sacrifices offered there. Hebrews doesn’t attack these things. Instead it teaches that Jesus eclipses whatever defines your world—and those things formed the centre of Jewish life and thought—because he is greater in every way. So, giving up on Jesus to revert to those things isn’t back to square one. It is more like falling off a cliff. When Jesus asked his disciples if they wanted to leave him (in John 6), Peter replied ‘Lord, to whom shall we go?’ That’s a rhetorical question. And the answer remains the same today. There is nowhere else to go, for Jesus is greater than everything bad in this world, and he is also greater than everything good. That includes your job, friends, and even your family.
- Jesus knows suffering and pain, and can help us.
Suffering non-Christians often turn to God. Suffering Christians often turn from him. Suffering causes turning: to whom do we turn?
Jesus confronted this enemy of faith, the suffering that visits every life. In fact, at the heart of his ministry was God making him ‘perfect through what he suffered’ (Heb 2.10). This doesn’t suggest that Jesus lacked moral perfection before he suffered. It announces that he achieved an even closer identification with us through his suffering. He really knows what it is like, and so can serve us more fully, because he too stared death in the face, would have preferred something other than what his Father assigned him, and yet obeyed in all things and at all times.
In his suffering, he so identified with his people that he now without shame calls us brothers and sisters. He doesn’t despise us in our weaknesses. He isn’t embarrassed by our failings. Instead he celebrates the Father with and before us, and relates to us as siblings (2.11-12).
Further, because Jesus identifies so entirely with us, we participate in his defeat of the devil. The Christian is therefore freed from the power of death, and even from the slavery that results from the fear of death. The world was turned upside down by people who weren’t afraid to die and who willingly endured suffering and pain to bring honour to their Lord.
Jesus’ suffering was more than physical or emotional pain. It includes his temptation (2.18). This brings us back to the heart of the argument: look to Jesus because he is able to help those facing temptation. Is your suffering a threat to your faith? Jesus suffered, was tempted, and overcame the devil to set you free and call you his brother or sister.
- Jesus knows temptation and can help us.
He who conquered sin continues to serve us. In 4.14, Jesus’ priesthood connects with keeping a tight hold on faith. Then in the next verse, which sounds a great deal like 2.18, the writer again tells us that Jesus engages with our weakness in that he was tempted but didn’t sin. As in chapter 2, the enemy of faith is sin, and sin’s point of entry is temptation.
Weakness lives in all of us and is hijacked by the devil to get us to sin. But Jesus helps us in our time of need (4.16). Need intersects with temptation—for in the moment of temptation, we need his help. And at the throne of grace we find what we need. We won’t find it elsewhere, certainly not in those places where temptation gives birth to sin. So where should we go in the face of temptation? We can’t stay where we are. We need to go to Jesus, who is at God’s throne. There alone will we find help in time of need.
Sin can be a tricky business. Hebrews bids us ‘encourage one another’, in order that ‘none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness’ (3.13). Sin is a liar. But often it simply emerges from our own mangled heart. So, Hebrews, which says we need to look to Jesus, also recognises life on this plane as a communal, social, and congregational reality, and therefore calls us to provide the encouragement each one needs. What do you do with your words? Movies, books, pop-psychologists, and less ‘pop’ ones as well, teach that they can hurt or heal. It isn’t the words: it’s the one who wields them. Though containing every hurtful word, dictionaries rarely kill. But the tongue destroys, lighting ‘the whole course of one’s life on fire’ (James 3.6). Do we traffic in hurtful comments? More to the point, do we excel at sprinkling the lives of those around us with holy encouragement? An uplifting conversation can keep a brother or sister from sin and ultimately save a mortal soul. ‘Encourage one another daily’ (3.13). This is a means of grace and reflects Jesus working in our lives.
- Jesus cleanses deep into the person.
Comparing Jesus’ self-sacrifice with Old Testament sacrifices reveals that he is greater. The old sacrifices, good as they were, needed to be repeated, and so were a constant reminder of sin. That makes sense. If I have to keep returning to the temple, lugging an expensive, smelly, and cumbersome means of dealing with sin, I’d hardly forget about that sin. And so the conscience was never clean. But Jesus’ sacrifice is once and for all, and cleanses deep into the person. Previous sacrifices were meaningful pictures, and they dealt with the surface in that they held the people and nation together until the real thing—the sacrifice of Jesus—came along. Only Jesus, however, in his sacrifice could wash the depths of the whole person, scrubbing away sin sufficiently to take us where nobody in ancient Israel could go—into the presence of God himself. The Jews had to identify with the sacrifice offered for them. We’ve seen that Jesus identifies with us. In so doing, he provides the sacrifice which makes us right—forever—with a holy God.
- Jesus promises better things.
The world promises many things, and even delivers a few. One of its tricks is to suggest that conformity will bring rest. Stop fighting against the current, let slide your confession, and life becomes easier. But whoever sells his soul and finds rest?
Jesus’ burden may be light, but it is still a burden—in the shape of a cross. Hebrews nevertheless speaks of real rest. This rest so aligns with your eternal destiny that its benefits sometimes, like rays of sunlight under the door, seep almost imperceptibly into the present. Other times, like a rush of cool air, they refresh the soul. Have you found rest? Rest and sin don’t go together. Drifters don’t know rest. But as we live in fellowship with one another, as we encourage and receive encouragement, even as we partake of holy suffering, we can know the rest ordained by our loving Father. In this, Hebrews offers a wonderful exposition of the words of Jesus, for in all these things we are called to look, and to direct the gaze of others, to the one who says, ‘come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest’ (Matt 11.28).
That’s five reasons to look to Jesus. But how do we do it? Hebrews 11 provides a long list of ‘heroes of the faith’, but when 11 ends and 12 begins, we aren’t told to focus on them. We are instead exhorted to throw off sin and run the race with perseverance, fixing our eyes on Jesus. Again, with sin. Every section of Hebrews is concerned that we stop sinning and finish this marathon-shaped, faith-filled Christian life. But the key here is Jesus and the eyes.
Humans are engineered, whether walking a tightrope or riding a motorcycle, to go where the eyes are looking. But as hard as we look, we can’t see Jesus. So, we wait for that day when we’ll see him face to face. Til then, we run the race with fixed gaze. How? What does that mean?
Jesus represents the finish line. Run toward him. But there’s more. Imagine you’re in a race and don’t know the course—and you’re blind. Now imagine that your closest friend is the best runner in the world, knows the route, and wants to run alongside you every step, speaking words of encouragement and pushing you to excel, telling you when you’re about to go off course, and sharing with you what it will look and feel like when you finish and receive the victor’s crown. As you run, keep close to him. Don’t look away. Don’t give up.
Are you running with Jesus? Is he the friend who guides your steps? It might feel superficial to call him brother or friend, but the New Testament rejoices in such terms. He delivers us from the penalty of sin and the fear of death. He suffered and was tempted, yet never sinned. He runs alongside, and stands at the ‘throne of grace’. What’s this got to do with putting off sin, and how do we do it? We do it by cultivating a relationship with the conquering son, praying to the one who offers mercy and grace, hearing the ‘last days’ words of the Father, and gathering with Jesus’ (and our) brothers and sisters. Know that you’re in a race you can’t lose—because he’s already won it for you. Fix your eyes, heart, soul, and future on Jesus. That’s a winning formula.
