Hope

Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God... My son, do not despise the chastening of the Lord, nor be discouraged when you are rebuked by Him; for whom the Lord loves He chastens... Now no chastening seems to be joyful for the present, but painful; nevertheless, afterward it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who are trained by it.

How do we endure through trial and continue to press on through suffering? Hebrews 12 answers by pointing our eyes upward—to Jesus and the glory that lies beyond our pain.

A Gem from the Ashes: Viktor Frankl and the Necessity of Hope

One of the most brutally grotesque evidences of the deep depravity of humanity is the horror of the Second World War, especially the Holocaust. Names like Dachau, Treblinka, and Auschwitz are indelibly scripted on our minds. Hardly anything good is associated with their memory. Yet out of that horror a few gems emerged. One such gem is a book written by a concentration camp survivor named Viktor Frankl.

Frankl was a Jewish neurologist and psychiatrist who lived in Vienna. In the mid-1940s he and his family found themselves in the German concentration camps, and amazingly he survived a time in Auschwitz. After the war he wrote his best-selling work in just nine days: Man's Search for Meaning. The first two-thirds chronicle his experience in the camps, and the last third explains his theories on the mind, will, and heart of man.

Frankl writes of the amazing ability of man to survive horrible things—and of the many who died, not only by the machinery of death, but of natural causes. He observed that the first to die were those who lost hope. He recounts speaking to fellow prisoners in a hut, all of them sick with typhus, freezing, and starving:

He told them they must not lose hope, that someone looks down on each of us in our difficult hours—a friend, a wife, someone alive or dead, or a God—and that this one would expect us not to disappoint him, hoping to find us suffering proudly, not miserably, knowing how to die. When the electricity came back on, his friends limped toward him with tears to thank him. Hope, Frankl concluded, is essential to life. Without hope, we give up.

The Phenomenal Power of Hope

It is an amazing thing what happens in the soul of a person who has the hope that their suffering has meaning, or that there is something better on the other side. A good friend of mine, a pastor in this area, spent twelve years as a Navy SEAL. At the beginning of SEAL training there were about 150 in his group; only 18 made it through. When I asked what kept him going, he eventually admitted, "I honestly can't tell you—I think I put it out of my memory." But something kept him pushing through, because there was a prize on the other side.

In the 1950s a Johns Hopkins researcher studied hope using laboratory rats placed in a jar of water. On average they gave up and drowned within two to fifteen minutes. But when the researchers pulled the rats out just before they gave up, dried them, rested them, and put them back, those rats swam for sixty hours straight. Something triggered in them gave them hope. It's a twisted study—PETA would have a field day—but it shows the power of hope in what seems a hopeless situation.

Proverbs 13:12 says, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick." Many have experienced that sickness. Another Johns Hopkins study, published in the New England Journal of Medicine in February 2005, documented "broken heart syndrome." Acute or long-term stress and hopelessness cause the body to release hormones and chemicals that can break down arterial walls, mirroring a heart attack. People literally die of a broken heart, because hope deferred makes the heart sick.

Hope Compels Endurance Through Present Trials

But that's not the whole verse. "Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but when the desire comes it is a tree of life." When the desire is fulfilled, it brings life. Hope for a better future compels our endurance through present trials.

The original recipients of this letter, around AD 65, faced a seemingly hopeless situation. They had already endured trials—some disowned by family, disavowed and excommunicated from their Jewish communities for trusting Jesus. Some had been beaten, tormented, and imprisoned. Now persecution was ramping up, no longer only from their former community but from the Roman Empire. Shortly after this, Peter would be crucified and Paul beheaded for their faith. The future in this life did not look good. Yet the author exhorts them to press on and endure.

Look back to Hebrews 10:35: "Therefore do not cast away your confidence, which has great reward. For you have need of endurance, so that after you have done the will of God you may receive the promise... we are not of those who draw back to perdition, but of those who believe to the saving of the soul." Press on. Don't draw back. Hold your confidence, for there is a great reward and a promise coming.

Surrounded by a Cloud of Witnesses

In chapter 11 the author chronicles the great Hall of Faith—Enoch, Abel, Noah, Abraham, Moses, Sarah, Rahab, Joshua, Samuel, David, and many unnamed others who were mocked, scourged, imprisoned, stoned, sawn in two, and killed for their faith. They ran the race with endurance, looking forward to their hope, though they never received the promise in this life.

Then he says, "Therefore we also." This brings it home to us. "Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight and every sin that so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us." I think of Frankl's words: someone looks down on us in difficult hours, hoping to find us suffering proudly, not miserably. The cloud of witnesses is all those who came before us in faith. Run the race proudly. Lay aside anything that would hinder you, and run with endurance.

Looking Unto Jesus

If the example of faithful men and women is not enough, he goes further: "Looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." We run this race by faith—our trust in Christ gives us hope for a future far better than even the best present we could imagine.

The suffering of Christ reminds us that our suffering is temporary and purposeful. The word translated "looking" means to turn one's eyes away from one thing and fix them on another. Paul wrote the same thing in Colossians 3: "If then you were raised with Christ, seek those things which are above... Set your mind on things above, not on things on the earth."

But if you've ever tried this, you know it's difficult. Suffering has an amazing way of turning us inward; we become myopic. Living in a broken and fallen world, every one of us will be affected by suffering to some degree. When we are, our nature causes us to focus on it until people begin to identify themselves by their suffering. It becomes an echo chamber—turning inward causes the suffering to double, and double again, until it engrosses a person's entire life. The author of Hebrews says we must, by a decision of the will, remove our focus and fix it on Christ.

The Joy Set Before Him

Jesus is the perfecter of our faith, its pinnacle. Everyone in Hebrews 11 was looking forward to Him—the promised one who would bring salvation and joy, the light shining in darkness for all peoples. So we, too, fix our affection upon Him.

He endured the cross—the center point of Christianity, which is why the cross has long been its symbol. His suffering was not only physical pain but the spiritual heaviness of bearing all our sin and the wrath of Almighty God. The physical pain was nothing compared to that wrath poured out for our sin; we cannot comprehend it. He did not enjoy the cross—He despised the shame. Yet He endured it for the joy set before Him.

Many teachers say the joy set before Jesus was you and your salvation. We have a very man-centered gospel. That may be one reading, but it's helpful to read the passage rather than read into it. The text says He "endured the cross... and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." The outcome was our salvation, yes, but more than that—the glory of God. He looked forward to the glory and joy of being there at the throne. The cross was the necessary path to glory. It had a purpose, and thank God it was temporary.

Light Affliction, Eternal Weight of Glory

Our sufferings also have a purpose, even when they seem arbitrary. A good friend many of you knew, Mike Callahan, was an usher here for many years and a great man of God. He suffered the last seven years of his life with a large brain tumor and ultimately died from it, yet he always had a big smile and loved to serve as a doorkeeper in the house of the Lord. His favorite passage was 2 Corinthians 4:16:

Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.

Our suffering is light, momentary, and working something in us. Our flesh does not like this one bit—my nature hates the idea that suffering is purposeful. But here's a heavy thing I've come to realize walking with Jesus all these years: God is far less concerned about my flesh than I am. That doesn't mean He doesn't love me; it means He knows my flesh is temporary and expendable, while He has something far better for me. So we must consider Him, "lest you become weary and discouraged in your souls." Turn your attention from the thing absorbing you—the irritation, the trial, the harassment—and consider Him.

Fix My Eyes on You

As I studied this passage last Friday, I had music shuffling in my office. A song came on, and one lyric caught my attention: "Fix my eyes on You." That was exactly what I was writing about. The words continued: "The things of the earth are dimming in the light of Your glory and grace. I'll set my sights upon heaven, I'm fixing my eyes upon You." How necessary it is to fix our eyes on the Lord so that the brokenness of a dark world grows strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace, so we do not become weary and discouraged in our souls. Despair is the complete absence of hope—the harbinger of hopelessness.

A Word of Perspective: God's Loving Chastening

The text continues: "You have not yet resisted to bloodshed, striving against sin. And you have forgotten the exhortation which speaks to you as sons: My son, do not despise the chastening of the Lord, nor be discouraged when you are rebuked by Him; for whom the Lord loves He chastens."

I've loved Pixar movies since high school. In Ratatouille, the food critic Anton Ego comes to the restaurant and the waiter asks what he'd like. He answers, "I'd like some perspective—some fresh, well-seasoned perspective." Hebrews 12:4–6 is perspective. We have not resisted to bloodshed; Jesus fought against sin to the point of bloodshed for us. And we have forgotten that God's discipline is the discipline of a loving Father.

Sometimes our suffering serves God's purposes—and more often than we'd like to realize. My flesh loves comfort and ease and hates to suffer. But God is not interested in sustaining my flesh; it needs to die. So when His chastening comes in the form of earthly suffering, He says, "Do not despise it." This is God working in your life. I don't discipline other people's children—I discipline my own, because I love them. That's exactly how it is with our Father.

If you endure chastening, God deals with you as with sons; for what son is there whom a father does not chasten?... He for our profit, that we may be partakers of His holiness. Now no chastening seems to be joyful for the present, but painful; nevertheless, afterward it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who are trained by it.

Our Suffering Is for Our Profit

Underline those words: "He for our profit." What is God doing? Trying to make us more like Him. Our suffering is for our profit. This is our hope—that what we go through is not meaningless but purposeful, that God is doing something with a plan. If we take these words seriously, our perspective on suffering must change: "Lord, maybe this is for a reason; you're trying to teach me, to do something."

Let me be clear: I do not hold a deterministic view of God, that every suffering, every child's death, every rape is orchestrated and determined by God. If that were true, God would be a monster. But neither do I hold a deistic view, that God sits absent on the edge of the universe, uninterested in what happens to us. The truth is somewhere in between. God knows what is happening, and He knows how to take suffering in a wicked, fallen, broken world and use it for His purpose. That is why so many cling to Romans 8:28: "We know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose."

God desires our endurance in suffering not because He's trying to destroy us, but because through our endurance He is growing us into the image of His Son. If we grasp this, we might even reach the point of rejoicing in suffering. You say that's insane—I think so too, but Paul said it in Romans 5:3: "We also glory in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope." Hope does not disappoint—it is the absolute certainty of coming good.

Knowing the Purpose Motivates Our Hope to the End

"Therefore strengthen the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees, and make straight the paths for your feet." Encourage yourselves in this reality: God is working in the midst of this trial. Knowing that there is purpose and profit in suffering motivates our hope until the end.

So the text continues: "Pursue peace with all people, and holiness, without which no one will see the Lord; looking carefully lest anyone fall short of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness spring up... lest there be any fornicator or profane person like Esau, who for one morsel of food sold his birthright."

Keep running the race. Pursue peace and holiness. Hold on to God's grace. Don't become bitter at God or others over what you're going through, and don't turn to carnality to cure the pain like Esau—who is not in the Hall of Faith because he was not a man of faith. He lived by sight, seeking only what he could receive from this world. That is all the world offers until you follow Jesus and discover there is something far better than this.

A Kingdom That Cannot Be Shaken

He then takes us back to the first covenant at Sinai—the mountain that burned with fire, blackness, darkness, and tempest, so terrifying that even Moses said, "I am exceedingly afraid and trembling." You have not come to that. "But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, to an innumerable company of angels... to God the Judge of all... to Jesus the Mediator of the new covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling that speaks better things than that of Abel."

He reorients our focus from the physical and temporal to the eternal glory of heaven. Your name is registered in heaven—that is good news. "See that you do not refuse Him who speaks... whose voice then shook the earth; but now He has promised, saying, 'Yet once more I shake not only the earth, but also heaven.'" The shaking removes what can be shaken, so that what cannot be shaken may remain. "Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom which cannot be shaken, let us have grace, by which we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear. For our God is a consuming fire."

This world can be shaken—your world can be shaken by trials, suffering, and the terror of a fallen world. But we look forward to a city with foundations, whose builder and maker is God, that cannot be shaken. Our hope is not here. If your hope is here, you have every reason for shaky hope. But our hope is with God in heaven, and your name in Christ is registered there.

Grasping this helps me comprehend a great reality: the end of my suffering is not the end of my story. One day we will come into a new kingdom with God in Christ, a place prepared for us, where there is no sickness, no sin, no death, and every tear is wiped away—a place that does not shake with war or anything else, because there is no sin and no death. So run the race with endurance, looking unto Jesus. Amen.

Closing Prayer

God, would You help us, because we need Your grace to lift us up and carry us through. I recognize that, relative to others who suffer famine, starvation, and persecution, we have it pretty easy. But in this room there are people who are suffering, going through severe trials that don't seem to let up and only seem to compound. God, would You encourage them today with Your grace. Lord, help us to recognize that the sufferings of this time and place are temporary and are working for us a far more eternal weight of glory. Help us to see that the suffering we're going through might be serving Your purpose and is for our profit. So, God, help us to run this race with endurance. Support Your church by Your Spirit, in Jesus' name. Amen.