Someone, Somewhere

Hebrews 2:1-10
I am always amused by this particular passage in our reading from Hebrews today. “Now God did not subject the coming world, about which we are speaking, to angels. But someone has testified somewhere, ‘What are human beings that you are mindful of them, or mortals, that you care for them?’” (Hebrews 2:5-6). Frankly it sounds like something I would say, especially if I was feeling too lazy to confirm that as a quote from Psalm 8:4. Recently in a sermon I mistakenly referred to Robert Frost’s poem, “The Road Not Taken” as “The Road Less Traveled.” I was sure I had the right title, so sure that I didn’t take the 30 seconds necessary to verify it on Google. Fortunately, the English teachers in my congregation were gentle in their comments.

The writer of Hebrews did not have the luxury of Google, of course, and may not have been sure of the exact source. But no matter! The verse quoted is apt and to the point, which I think helps to highlight an important aspect of scripture’s power. Scripture does not gain its authority from our mastery of it. This is God’s word; it comes to us with its authority already in tact, its relevance already assured. This is why we wrestle with and allow ourselves to be engaged by passages like those from Hebrews and the book of Psalms, because it is there that we find God’s word for us and for the world. A too-easy comfort with such verses, to me, indicates an unwillingness to be fully impacted by what God is saying. Scripture is hard work, it is long study, it is on-going conversations, it is prayer and reflection, it is honest disagreement and an open examination of preconceived notions. It stands up to and rewards our toughest questions with resilience and strength.

The writer of Hebrews had a message for God’s people. So did the psalmist. But the power of their words comes from God’s Spirit working in and through them. A breezy familiarity with scripture keeps us from appreciating the wondrous power at work there. To me it is far more important to honestly wrestle with words of scripture than to pass by them quickly or with blasé familiarity.

Prayer: Lord, give us ears to hear your word even as we wrestle with its meaning for our lives. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

The Taste of Death

Hebrews 2:5-18

What would death taste like? That question comes by way of the writer of Hebrews who uses an interesting turn of phrase in discussing the passion of Jesus Christ. “…(B)ut we do see Jesus…now crowned with glory and honor because of the suffering of death, so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone” (Hebrews 2:9). Jesus “tasted death” for all of us. But what does that mean?

Think of the common expression it was so close to me I could taste it. Taste requires proximity and Jesus came into real, physical contact with death. In fact, we might take that a step further and say that Jesus ingested death, took death into his being. For Jesus death became a part of his experience in the midst of humanity, just as real as eating (and tasting) food or drinking water. So death was real for Jesus, so real that it can be described an a sensory experience.

But in tasting death Jesus conquered it which means that we no longer must fear it. Yes, we will die, but to use a similar analogy through Jesus the bitterness of death has been removed. As an exchange student to Turkey in 1978 I witnessed––and for one day participated in––the Islamic holy month of Ramadan. Devout Muslims take the required fasting of that season so seriously that my host mother would not sample food she prepared for me during the day, and it bothered her that she could not be sure the food met her standards. Jesus has gone to the other extreme and made the way to eternal life palatable for those who follow him. Because Jesus tasted death we do not have to, not to the extent that he did, and certainly not with any fear.

What would death taste like? By the grace of God it no longer matters.

Prayer: Lord, we thank you for your Son Jesus Christ by whose faithful obedience we have been saved from the full grasp of death. In his name we pray. Amen.