My Morning Meal

I can’t sit in judgment of the people Hebrews was written to. I can’t shake my head for them wanting to go back to the old way . . . the ways of the law . . . the ways of their people . . . the paths of less resistance. It might not be the “better way” based on better promises, better sacrifices, offered by a better High Priest. But, it would take off some pressure . . . it would, at least temporarily perhaps, offer some much needed relief. I can’t get too “high and mighty” with their foolishness because I know how easy it is, for reasons far, far less than persecution, to get distracted from the “better way” and head down paths of other ways.

What’s the remedy? In part, at least, it’s to heed Paul’s exhortation to the Colossians to “set your minds on things that are above” (Col. 3:2a). The writer to the Hebrews gives the same encouragement . . . but in a much more eloquent and soul-stirring manner.

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, 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, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel. See that you do not refuse Him who is speaking. (Hebrews 12:22-25a ESV)

The system they sought to go back to was the law given on Mt. Sinai. A mount consumed by fire . . . a mount unapproachable, save for the one called up to receive God’s word . . . a mount, that even for Moses, invoked fear and trembling (12:18-21). That’s what they wanted to return to.

Instead, says the writer to the Hebrews, set your minds on things above . . . you need not come to “the forbidding terrors of Sinai” but are beckoned to the welcoming grace of Mt. Zion. Come, pleads the author, to the Mount that is already yours in Christ. Set your feet on pilgrimage to the city of the living God . . . that which you already possess in heaven. “The future is already the present. In today we possess tomorrow. On earth we own Heaven” (MacDonald).

Look not at the ease of the old way . . . seek not the pleasures of a world that is passing away . . . spend not your strength on that which, though while it might be good, is not the best. Instead come to what you have already come to, Mount Zion.

It is the place of innumerable angels who know salvation only vicariously through those redeemed of Adam’s race . . . but know enough to rejoice over one sinner who repents thus assembled in festal gathering. It is the place of those who have gone before, the assembly of the firstborn enrolled in heaven . . . members of the church, the Body and Bride of Christ . . . enjoying, even now, the Lord’s presence.

But more than the angels . . . more than those who have gone before . . . it is the place of the throne of God and it is the place where Jesus, our blessed mediator of a new covenant, even now prepares a place for us. It is the most holy of holy places made accessible through the blood of Jesus. And the Spirit says, “Come to Mount Zion.”

O that I might be kept from turning back. That my focus might be such that Sinai’s terror might be seen for what it is. That my gaze might be such that the appeal of the world might be no appeal at all. That I might set my mind constantly on things above. That I might relentlessly set my face toward the city which I have already arrived at by faith. That I might come to Mount Zion.

By His grace . . . for His glory.

Entered faith’s “Hall of Fame” this morning. Started in on Hebrews 11. And paused to chew on the “Abraham Exhibit.” Not much to look at really. An old man . . . along with his aged wife. A few servants . . . some livestock . . . and a smattering of earthly possessions. Having left the land of his natural inheritance he wanders into a foreign land looking for a new inheritance . . . one promised of God. There he is, sitting outside his tent, but a spec in a vast land controlled by other nations and powers. Yet, he believes, he is living in the land of promise. Not much to look at right now . . . none of it belonging to him yet . . . even the ground his tent is on is but a “rental.” But someday, maybe not in his lifetime, but someday it will be in his family. And that’s why this “exhibit” is so soul-stirring and inspiring. Because, as one pilgrim to another, Abraham’s legacy cries out to all those who believe the promise and are seeking a homeland.

These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared for them a city.    (Hebrews 11:13-16 ESV)

By faith, Abraham was “looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God” (11:10). That was the end game. And so, he went out not knowing where he was going (11:8b) . . . he left the sure thing and ventured out into the “by faith thing” . . . he traded stability for being a stranger . . . he traded predictability for the life of pilgrim. All because he was seeking a homeland.

And my heart is stirred because, by faith, I too am a pursuer of the promise of God that there awaits me an inheritance better than anything this world could offer (1Peter 1:3-5). That there is a city . . . a holy city . . . a heavenly city . . . a city where God dwells with men . . . where every tear is wiped away . . . where death exists no more . . . where old things have passed away . . . and where all things have become new. (Swim in Revelation 21, and the first part of chapter 22, to get an idea about that city).

It’s a city that God is preparing for me . . . and for all who have believed the promise of eternal life through the finished work of Christ on the cross. For those who, by faith, have asked for forgiveness of sins and have bowed the knee to Jesus as Lord of their lives. A place that even now Jesus is preparing for His people, promising that we will one day be with Him (John 14:1-3).

For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland . . .

And so, our heart is set on pilgrimage. Though we enjoy the blessings and beauty of this “foreign land,” we’re not to get too attached to it. Instead, it should be but a foretaste of what lies ahead . . . of that which is worthy of pursuing and investing in. We are not to look too intently at what might have been if we had chosen to “move in” here.  Instead, we are to set our hearts on what it will be to inhabit that place being prepared for us. Hungering to walk in that better country . . . to live eternally in that heavenly land. Desiring above all desires to be called the people of God in the city God has prepared for us.

Seeking a homeland . . . looking for a city . . . by faith, pursuing the promise of God.

By His grace . . . for His glory . . .

My thoughts go back to the days of canning. That time of year when fruits and vegetables were prepped and then packed into glass Mason jars. As I recall it, there were three key components to making sure that was canned didn’t spoil. What put the “preserve” in the preservatives was the canning liquid poured in, the heat applied, and the seal created. Get those three things right and, it seemed, those fruits and vegetables could sit on those shelves forever . . . though they never lasted that long. This morning, something I read has me thinking about the soul’s preservative.

For you have need of endurance, so that when you have done the will of God you may receive what is promised. For,”Yet a little while, and the coming One will come and will not delay; but my righteous one shall live by faith, and if he shrinks back, my soul has no pleasure in him.” But we are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who have faith and preserve their souls.   (Hebrews 10:36-39 ESV)

The book of Hebrews declares the supremacy and superiority of Christ for the purpose of restoring and renewing the believers’ holy determination to keep on keeping on. These Hebrew brothers and sisters were taking it in the teeth for their faith. Their arms were growing tired with carrying the banner . . . their feet were growing blistered from running the race . . . the glory of the prize set before them blurred because of the sweat and tears in their eyes . . . and they were wavering with turning back to that which, would in part, ease some of the opposition. And so, for them, Christ and the implications of His death, resurrection, and ascension are presented to encourage them to persevere. And in so doing, to “preserve their souls.”

You’ll only find that translation in the ESV and NASB. In other translations it’s the “saving of the soul.” But, based on my set of helps, preserving probably is the more literal and accurate translation. While it was by faith we WERE saved, it is also by faith that WE ARE BEING saved, or, in a sense, preserving the soul. Faith then, in a sense, is the canning liquid of our souls. Faith is our soul preservative.

Life provides the heat . . . more than we want sometimes. The Holy Spirit has been given as the unfailing seal (Eph. 1:13). And faith, in a sense, is the surrounding atmosphere that maintains the vitality of the inner man.

All the truth concerning Christ, His person, and His work, has little value unless it is mixed with faith (Heb. 4:2). The promises of God are of no effect if not applied. But when the truth of God . . . and the promises of God . . . are received and believed by faith, they have a way of preserving the soul. When the “fluid of faith” envelopes the believer, then what’s happening in the “here and now” is placed in the context of what will be “there and then.” Trials are put in the context of testing and refining. The pressures of life are submerged in the promises of God.

And it plays out at the most practical and fundamental of levels. I believe the Bible is the Word of God . . . and so I read it . . . and am transformed by the renewing of my mind. I believe that God hears and answers prayer . . . and so I speak into an empty room . . . and know a peace that passes understanding. I believe that God is Sovereign . . . and so every circumstance has His fingerprints on it . . . and I submit to it, and rest in His ever-present care. Truth . . . mixed with faith . . . becomes the preserving agent for the soul.

O’, that I would be of “those who have faith.” That faith would be my soul preservative.

By His grace . . . for His glory.

There is cleaning, and then there is deep cleaning. It’s one thing to dust, it’s another to disinfect. You can make the place look pretty good by stuffing things in the closets or drawers, but the real test comes when the drawers and closets themselves have been put in order. You can vacuum and keep the carpets looking pretty good, but eventually, you are going to need to wash them . . . apply some heat and steam . . . and maybe some brushes . . . and remove the junk that doesn’t just lie towards the surface.

As I continue to read in Hebrews this morning, I’m reminded that while the blood shed under the old covenant might have provided a cleansing, that the blood of Christ, shed to seal the new covenant, provides a deep clean.

For if the sprinkling of defiled persons with the blood of goats and bulls and with the ashes of a heifer sanctifies for the purification of the flesh, how much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered Himself without blemish to God, purify our conscience from dead works to serve the living God.    (Hebrews 9:13-14 ESV)

The blood shed under the Levitical sacrifices cleansed the surface. It paid the price for the sin and removed the blemish through atonement . . . until next time . . .when it was shed and applied again . . . and again. But it was powerless to cleanse the sinner. While it cleaned up, in a sense, the outer mess, the inner man was still in bondage to trying to live by a law that, by his very nature, he could not live up to. Thus, the need for a better covenant . . . based on a better promise . . . sealed through a better sacrifice. Thus the need for a deep clean.

Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!    (John 1:29 ESV)

The blood of Christ . . . the incarnate Son of God . . . was offered through the eternal Spirit . . . as the once for all payment for all mankind’s sin. And for those who, by faith, apply that blood to their lives, there occurs a deep, deep clean. The conscience, purified . . . the soul, cleansed . . . the very nature of our being, disinfected . . . the old mess, given a new order. While the outside might not look a lot different, the inside has undergone a radical transformation.

And though the functionality of a house might not change a lot after a deep clean (though it might) . . . or the performance of a car doesn’t necessarily improve after a thorough, bumper-to-bumper detailing, the deep clean of a soul results in the lifting of a burden and in the redirecting of one’s energy.

The guilt of sin and the shame of “dead works” are removed. Not just covered up, but washed away through the blood of Christ as He bore the guilt and shame for our sin before a holy God on our behalf. There is no more condemnation (Rom. 8:1) for the price has been paid in full . . . for all my sin . . . even the deepest, darkest, of transgressions . . . even those most hidden away in the depths of our conscience. And when, through the Spirit of God, we come to a fuller and fuller realization of the depths of our cleansing . . . when the dead weight of those dead works is more and more removed as we appropriate more and more the finished work of the cross . . . then we become increasingly free to serve the living God.

And there is a redirecting of energy . . . a reassessing of priorities . . . a recalibrating of purpose. How amazing is it to think we can serve the living God? Pretty!

All because of a deep clean . . . by a great God!

By His grace . . . for His glory . . .