Chapters 11 and 12 of the book of Hebrews is a passage of Scripture that causes a reader to pause in wonder, not only because it so clearly lays out our one hope across redemptive history, but also because it homes in on the mystery of faith. The section begins with the definition and benefits of faith: “Now, to have faith is to have a grounded conviction about things hoped for, to be firmly convinced of the certainty of events not seen. Indeed, it was because of their faith that our ancestors received God’s approval.”[1] This answers a classic “Sunday School question” neatly: how were people justified before Christ’s atoning sacrifice? Was it perfect adherence to the law given at Sinai? Of course not. People have been deemed righteous from the beginning because they believed in the promises and the character of the Promise-Giver. Though they did not have concrete evidence or see the fulfillment of the promises given them, they trusted that God would do as He said He would.
Eve doubted the words of God when asked, “Did God really say…?”[2] misjudging His character as withholding and not desiring her best,[3] and gave the fruit to Adam who also partook. Consequently, the whole of the human race—and by extension, creation—was plunged into sin, death, and decay. How immensely powerful is it that a remnant of their sons and daughters would cling to the hope of her promised Seed,[4] a Seed who would facilitate their adoption as children of God and rescue and restore all of creation?
The testimony of these faithful sons and daughters of Eve is recounted in glorious detail as the chapter unfolds: by faith, Abel…by faith, Enoch…by faith, Abraham…by faith, Moses…by faith, Rahab.[5] Even on this side of Calvary, however, the remnant of those trusting God with our lives find ourselves in the exact same position as Abraham who “went, even though he did not know where he was going.”[6] We have received an invaluable inheritance in the histories of this great cloud of witnesses, and are blessed with apostolic accounts and explanations of the Cross, answering for the necessity of Messiah’s suffering before He comes into His glory. But like our fathers and mothers of old, we have yet to see “the city designed and built by God,”[7] we “hope against hope,”[8] we “greet from afar”[9] and “we groan inwardly, eagerly awaiting our adoption as sons and the redemption of our bodies.“[10] We have the evidence of Jesus’ firstfruits resurrection, but we have yet to see our own. From the beginning until the present day, people of faith have endured “torture…Others suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were killed with the sword. They went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, afflicted, mistreated—of whom the world was not worthy—wandering about in deserts and mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth.” But they and we have not yet “received what was promised.”[11]
How then do we navigate the tension of living in a time when promises of God have not yet been fulfilled? The writer does not leave us in suspense, but exhorts us to endure in chapter twelve: persevere through all hardship with patience and godliness, because you know that your reward is coming and you will inherit an unshakable kingdom. Or, as the apostle Paul puts it: walk by the faith that is convinced of events yet unseen, not by the present evidence of your eyes.”[12] These encouragements echo the conditions for drawing near to God from the previous chapter, connecting closeness to God with confidence in future grace: “for whoever would draw near to God must believe that He exists and that He rewards those who seek Him.”[13] At first glance, this might seem to be a mercenary definition, that faith means we follow God because of some sort of personal profit, focusing on the benefits rather than the Benefactor. However, the writer of Hebrews clarifies this point early on, showing that the benefits of belief are not immediate, but this present age is marked by affliction. This principle is patterned in the patriarchs and prophets and mirrored in Messiah’s suffering. After His crucifixion and death, however, Christ was glorified, a sign and seal of our future reward: “…who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.”[14]
What was the “joy set before” Jesus, that allowed Him to faithfully endure such a sorrowful shame as the Cross? His joy is unbroken fellowship with His people—the reward of a bridegroom King! Jesus said as much in John 17, His High Priestly Prayer: “I am coming to You, and these things I speak in the world, that they may have My joy fulfilled in themselves…I do not ask that You take them out of the world, but that You keep them from the evil one…Father, I desire that they also, whom You have given Me, may be with Me where I am…I made known to them Your name, and I will continue to make it known, that the love with which You have loved Me may be in them, and I in them.”[15]
This author and perfecter of our faith[16] had many illuminating teachings about faith even before His farewell prayer. In Luke 18, right after an eschatological teaching, Jesus launches into a parable that is about prayer and persistence—in fact, endurance. He ends His parable with these words: “And will not God give justice to His elect, who cry to Him day and night? Will He delay long over them? I tell you, He will give justice to them speedily. Nevertheless, when the Son of Man comes, will He find faith on earth?”[17] In other words, “Will God, who is just and loving, delay needlessly over the relief of His beloved ones? No! But, when He comes to bring deliverance to His people, will they have remained faithful?” It is the vulnerable question of a friend: will you remain with me—though hell and high water—until the end?
A little later in Luke, we see the theme of friendship and faith come to the forefront again in Jesus’ prayers. As the disciples are reclining at the last supper and the painful betrayal of Judas is already set in motion, Jesus confronts another upcoming betrayal in this way: “Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers.” Peter said to him, “Lord, I am ready to go with you both to prison and to death.” Jesus said, “I tell you, Peter, the rooster will not crow this day, until you deny three times that you know Me.”[18] The intercession of Jesus for His friend Peter prevented Peter from permanently breaking faith with his Lord, and allowed his restoration and faithful endurance to go to a martyr’s death with humility, confidence, and joy.[19]
The question that naturally follows these stirring examples of enduring friendship as faith, a concept that is at its root relational, is: how did faith come to be understood as an abstract thing, a mental assent to a set of beliefs, and a synonym for a system of doctrine? Such a shift in our understanding in what faith is has hampered our ability to grow, mature, and endure in this present evil age. The author of Hebrews and the Gospel writers are not the only ones to make this point. James says in the second chapter of his book, “Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness—and he was called a friend of God.”[20] Abraham’s belief, his faith—not in an idea, but in a Man—was a trust between friends whose futures are bound in covenant together. This loyalty, this friendship, was counted to him as righteousness. “And what more shall I say? For time would fail me to tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets….”[21]
Surely across the testimony of the scriptures, we are assured again and again that faith is not an intellectual assent to a truth, but a trust between friends. Faith is friendship with God, that we will endure in loyal belief in His future promises, that when the Son of Man returns, He might find faithful, obedient, loyal friends on the earth. This faith is not something that we can muster up through our own strength, but we instead hang on by the thread of Jesus’ intercession, who is praying that our faith would not fail, that He might dwell in our hearts in by means of faith[22], and that we would dwell with Him forever when He comes into His Kingdom.[23]
Perhaps Paul’s quote in his letter to Timothy sums it up well: “The saying is trustworthy, for: If we have died with Him, we will also live with Him; if we endure, we will also reign with Him; if we deny Him, He also will deny us; if we are faithless, He remains faithful— for He cannot deny Himself.”[24] The author of Hebrews concludes his fiery passage with these eternal words: “Therefore let us be grateful to receive a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire.”[25]
Amen. Maranatha.
Devon Phillips is just a pilgrim longing for the Day of the revealing of the sons of God and the redemption of our bodies. Meanwhile, she is privileged to serve in the Middle East with Frontier Alliance International and contributes regularly to THE WIRE. She can be reached at devon@faimission.org.
[1] Hebrews 11:1-2 (BHT)
[2] Genesis 3:1
[3] Genesis 3:4-6
[4] Genesis 3:15
[5] Hebrews 11:4-31
[6] Hebrews 11:8
[7] Hebrews 11:10
[8] Romans 4:18
[9] Hebrews 11:13
[10] Roman 8:16
[11] Hebrews 11:35-40; this teaching on faith from Hebrews is surpisingly different from most of the faith teachings we hear from pulpits nowadays.
[12] 2 Corinthians 5:7
[13] Hebrews 11:6
[14] Hebrews 12:2
[15] John 17:13-26
[16] Hebrews 12:2
[17] Luke 18:7-8
[18] Luke 22:32
[19] John 21:18-19; though the Bible doesn’t say explicitly how Peter dies, early church tradition says that he died a martyr’s death crucified upside down
[20] James 2:23
[21] Hebrews 11:32–34
[22] Ephesians 3:17
[23] John 17:24
[24] 2 Timothy 2:11
[25] Hebrews 12:28-30
