Hebrews 3:1

Therefore, holy brethren, partakers of the heavenly calling, consider the apostle and high priest of our confession, Christ Jesus, who was faithful to him who appointed him, as Moses also was faithful in all his house... But Christ as a son over his own house, whose house we are, if we hold fast the confidence and rejoicing of the hope firm to the end... Beware, brethren, lest there be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief and departing from the living God... So we see that they could not enter because of unbelief. (Hebrews 3)

A warning is not a threat against the faithful but a sign posted by God for a reason—heed it, and trust in Jesus alone, because Jesus is better.

Jesus Is Better—and Better Than Moses

Jesus is better. That has been my proposition as we have moved through the book of Hebrews over the last several weeks, and it is also the proposition of the author—whom I believe to be Timothy. Timothy has been making the case that Jesus is better: the uncreated, eternal Creator, the Son of God. We saw that Jesus is better than angels. Now, as we come to chapter three, the author makes the case that Jesus is superior to and worthy of much more glory than Moses.

The recipients of this letter were Christians who came out of Judaism, out of a Hebrew background. Moses was one they lifted high and exalted—the great lawgiver of Israel, the redeemer sent to bring them out of Egypt by the power of God. They honored him and looked up to him in a big way. Now the author argues that Jesus is superior to him. He will continue to do this over the next several chapters: Jesus is better than angels, better than Moses, better than Abraham, better than the priesthood, better than every other option.

Why Establish That Jesus Is Better?

When you consider this defense, it begs a question: why is it important to recognize the superiority of Jesus? Why write a long letter that so strongly argues that Jesus is better than all other options? The apologetic here is for Christians who came out of Judaism, so the arguments draw on the Old Testament Scriptures and the traditions of Israel, because those were authoritative to them.

The author has already alluded to the reason in chapter two, and he returns to it repeatedly. Look at Hebrews 2:3: "How shall we escape if we neglect so great a salvation?" Then in 3:6: "if we hold fast the confidence." Then in 3:12–14: "Beware, brethren, lest there be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief... Lest any of you be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin." In 4:1: "let us fear lest any of you seem to have come short of it." In 4:11: "Let us therefore be diligent to enter that rest." In 4:14: "let us hold fast our confession."

Over and over the author says: be careful, be on guard, beware of this potential disaster. Do not neglect the salvation you have. Do not be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin and let go of Jesus, but hold on tight. The issue is clear. Early Christians brought to faith out of Judaism were in danger of leaving the faith of Jesus, losing confidence in Him alone as the superior sacrifice, and therefore coming short of and missing out on the promise of God through Jesus.

"What Does This Have to Do With Me?"

This issue raises a couple of objections. First, sitting 2,000 years later, you might say, "What has this got to do with me? I'm not Jewish. I didn't come out of Judaism to follow Jesus." By the sheer numbers, it's unlikely that many of you came out of Judaism to become a follower of Jesus.

And yet it does apply, because every one of us came out of some belief. Maybe it wasn't Judaism, but it was something—Mormonism, the Jehovah's Witnesses, Catholicism, Buddhism, Islam, Hinduism, naturalism and scientism. Some of you came straight out of hedonistic paganism. You came out of something to follow Jesus, and in leaving that old worldview, there is the possible temptation, the danger the author alludes to, that you could turn away, neglect this great salvation, and return to your old pattern of belief and life.

We know that's a real danger, because nearly every one of us knows someone who once attended church, who seemed to have a walk with Jesus, who opened the Bible and studied with us—and yet today is no longer walking with Him. They've gone back to their old way of thinking, and they're no longer here.

Is It Really a Danger?

The second question: is leaving the faith really a danger of losing the promise? The author says, "Let us fear lest any of you seem to have come short of it." Those are challenging, even frightening words. Look again at 3:12: "Beware, brethren." He is not talking to the unbeliever or the non-churchgoer. He is talking to Christians—brothers and sisters—warning them about an evil heart of unbelief and being hardened through the deceitfulness of sin.

Is that possible? Depending on which of the thirty-one flavors of Christianity you prefer, some will say emphatically, "No, it's not possible," and quote chapter and verse. Others will sheepishly smile and say, "Well, it's possible." This is a real debate. Some hold a Calvinistic position and say you cannot miss the promise. Others hold an Arminian position and say you can. If those words mean nothing to you, you might be among the most blessed Christians in the world—but I teach at a Bible college, and every semester new students who knew nothing about these two positions become experts and start arguing by week four, even in a class on church planting. It happens in churches, too, and this year, 2017, we mark the 500th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation, where so many of these arguments came from.

Now I'll tell you—I like the chocolate flavor of security in Jesus. It tastes like chocolate brownie ice cream. The other flavor is broccoli, and I'd rather have the ice cream. But here's the thing: one helps you grow strong; the other might lull you to sleep with fatness. Both flavors are in the Bible.

Warnings Exist for a Reason

That brings us to point number one: warnings exist for a reason. The entire book of Hebrews is one big fat warning—my big fat Hebrew warning. It is a huge warning to Christians, whether they came out of Judaism or secular humanism. Maybe that's why people love to argue about the authorship of Hebrews—it keeps them from being confronted by the warnings. These warnings get bigger in chapter six and bigger still in chapter ten.

Someone sent me a picture of a warning sign that read: "Danger: not only will this kill you, it will hurt the whole time you're dying." If I saw a sign like that, I'd heed it. I've been shocked a time or two—not badly, but enough to know I never want to be shocked to death. We had dinner with a couple in our church; the husband was a lineman for SDG&E and once took a major shock. It did not sound fun at all. When you see a sign like that, you take notice and stay away.

Here's my thinking. The only person worried by warnings like this is the Christian. You will never meet a non-churchgoer who says he's anxious about eternal security. Only Christians concern themselves with these issues. And if you're a Christian, you believe that all Scripture is given by inspiration of God and is profitable for doctrine, reproof, correction, and instruction in righteousness. That means you have to believe this passage was inspired by God—that God inspired the author to say, "Beware, brethren." The God who inspired Scripture considered it necessary to put a warning sign in front of the church.

The Right Question

So, can you lose your salvation? That's actually the wrong question. The wrong question asks it as though you could lose your wallet or your keys—"Gosh, I had my salvation a few minutes ago and now I can't find it." Thankfully, you can't misplace it that way. The right question is the one the author alludes to: can someone, through an evil heart of unbelief and the deceitfulness of sin, depart from Jesus and therefore miss the promise that Jesus gives in salvation? Let's just say there's a big fat warning in Hebrews: "Danger—not only will this kill you, it will hurt the whole time you're dying."

Consider the Apostle and High Priest

Point number two: the statement "Jesus is better" is itself a warning against departing from Him. The author says in 3:1: "Therefore, holy brethren, partakers of the heavenly calling, consider the apostle and high priest of our confession, Christ Jesus." To consider means to look to Him.

That word partakers connects chapter three to chapter six and its stern warning about departing from the faith, which we'll examine in depth in a few weeks. And notice the passage begins with "therefore," which points us back to 2:17–18: "Therefore, in all things He had to be made like His brethren... that He might be a merciful and faithful high priest... For in that He Himself suffered, being tempted, He is able to aid those who are tempted." Because Jesus suffered for us who are tempted, holy brethren, consider Him. And what do we consider? That He was faithful.

Only Jesus Is Always Faithful

Point number three: Jesus is better because only Jesus is always faithful. Do we have any Marines in the room? What is the Marine Corps motto? Semper Fidelis—always faithful. I have the utmost respect for the Marine Corps, but here is the reality: only Jesus is absolutely, one hundred percent, always faithful. We may strive to be always faithful and make it our aim, but only Jesus truly is.

The Hebrew Christian reading this might object, "But Moses was always faithful too." And there was the temptation to move trust away from Jesus and back to faithful Moses and the law he gave. The author does not deny it—he agrees Moses was faithful in his household. But look at 3:3: "For this one has been counted worthy of more glory than Moses, inasmuch as he who built the house has more honor than the house... And Moses indeed was faithful in all his house as a servant... But Christ as a son over his own house, whose house we are."

The Son Is Greater Than the Servant

Point number four: Jesus is better than Moses because the Son is always greater than a servant. Moses was faithful as a servant; Jesus was faithful as a Son. That is why Jesus is worthy of much more glory.

The author continues in 3:7, quoting Psalm 95: "Today, if you will hear his voice, do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion... I was angry with that generation... So I swore in my wrath, they shall not enter my rest."

The original readers understood this immediately. For us, here's a refresher. God sent Moses to Pharaoh saying, "Let my people go." Through ten plagues in Exodus 4–14, Pharaoh finally released Israel. They crossed the Red Sea, followed Moses to Mount Sinai, where God delivered the law through angels and entered into covenant with them. After about two years, they set out for the promised land that God had promised Abraham 400 years earlier.

But in the book of Numbers, when they reached the border, they sent twelve spies. Ten came back saying, "It's too hard; there are giants; we can't go in." The people who had trusted God to bring them out of Egypt lost their confidence. Two spies said, "God will give us the land; let's trust Him." But that night the people wept in unbelief and tested God—even though they had seen His power in Egypt and His provision for two years. They lost their confidence in the God who had parted the Red Sea. And so God swore they would not enter His rest. Even the great lawgiver Moses died in the wilderness and did not obtain the promise.

Beware an Evil Heart of Unbelief

The author continues in 3:12: "Beware, brethren, lest there be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief and departing from the living God, but exhort one another daily while it is called today... For we have become partakers of Christ if we hold the beginning of our confidence steadfast to the end." With whom was God angry for forty years? With those who sinned, whose corpses fell in the wilderness. They could not enter—not because their works weren't good enough, but because their confidence had swayed. Their faith had shifted; they no longer trusted God but began to trust something else.

Old Warnings Are No Less Important Than New

Point number five: old warnings are no less important than new ones. Just outside a ghost-town village in central Ukraine stands an old, rusted sign, hard to read, in several languages: "Danger—do not enter—radioactive." It's old, but it's no less important, because there's an invisible killer at Chernobyl.

There is an old sign in Scripture, too. Paul speaks of it in 1 Corinthians 10:11: "Now all these things happened to them as examples, and they were written for our admonition, upon whom the ends of the age have come. Therefore let him who thinks he stands take heed lest he fall." As Edmund Burke is often quoted, those who do not know history are doomed to repeat it.

Trust in Jesus Alone

So what does this say to us? The enduring message is this: trust in Jesus alone, because Jesus is better. There may be the temptation, the danger, of shifting your faith—having once walked strong and now turning aside to something else, brought back to the old pattern of life and thinking.

You may object, "That could never happen." I'd simply say there's a warning in the Bible, and warnings exist for a reason. We must be careful not to overeat the chocolate ice cream of eternal security until we fall asleep, fat and complacent, making ourselves feel better by saying, "Well, that brother of mine prayed a prayer once. He's left his spouse, returned to drunkenness or addiction, says he's an agnostic now—but he prayed a prayer; he'll be okay." Don't lull yourself to sleep on ice cream. Scripture says if we see a brother overtaken in a trespass, we who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness, considering ourselves, lest we also be tempted. Take heed when you think you stand, lest you fall.

As we sit here this morning, there may be dozens of phone calls that need to be made: "I'm concerned for your salvation." Research says Easter is the number-one Sunday when people return to church—and Easter is three weeks away. It might be an opportunity to call that person who once seemed to be walking in faith but now you're not so sure about. I would want to be sure. And the only way to be sure of someone's salvation is as long as they are abiding in Jesus. May our passion for Christ burn ever bright as we follow hard after Him, knowing His hand holds us up.

And notice this: the Calvinist says, "They could never lose their salvation—they must not have actually been a Christian." The Arminian says, "They could lose it, and they have." What do both conclude? They need to repent. They need the gospel. In the end, they come to the same conclusion. And it may be that the Lord wants to use you to share that good news with them again.

Closing Prayer

Lord Jesus, I thank You for Your grace, Your loving kindness, Your mercy. It's because of Your mercy that we are not consumed. You are holy, completely separate from sinners, and You are just; and yet time and again You have given us Your mercy and grace. We thank You so much for Your saving grace.

But Lord, I pray this moment, and I'm sure there are faces and names that come into our minds right now—friends and family members who once seemed to be walking with You and now are not. We pray that You would draw them by Your Spirit, and use some of us in this room to invite them back.

And maybe as we stand here this morning, you are someone who has come back to church for the first time in a long time, invited by a friend or family member, and you realize you want to put your faith and trust in Jesus again. Or maybe you've never done that, and you'd like to receive the grace and forgiveness of Jesus for your sin. Jesus died on the cross 2,000 years ago to deal with the penalty of our sin, and He makes that grace available to you right now.

If that's you, pray out loud with me: Dear Jesus, I recognize my need for You. I've failed and I've sinned, but I thank You that You died for my sin so that I could live with You forever. Would You come into my life? Forgive me of my sin. Help me to follow You by faith. In Jesus' name, amen.