Like One Of Us
Hebrews 2:9-18
We live in a cultural climate that
is eager to validate any and every religion. And while we must certainly
respect the freedom of every individual to choose for him or herself what is to
be believed in, it would be a mistake to extend this into thinking that all
ideologies are equally tenable, or that all ideologies are really different
manifestations of a single principle.
Even with a cursory study of some of
the other world religions, we should be immediately struck by the uniqueness
of the Christian faith. The uniqueness of Christianity is, perhaps, most
evident in the assertion that the Creator of the cosmos came to live on this
earth as a human being with the express purpose of suffering at the hands of
those whom He created as a means to securing their forgiveness.
Let that sink in for a minute. The
Creator of the Universe came to live on this earth as a human being and was
prepared to suffer at the hands of those whom He created in order to secure
their forgiveness.
This combination of the
Incarnation and the crucifixion of God, in Christ, sets Christianity
apart from Islam, Buddhism, and Hinduism. And I submit to you that those who
would suggest that ‘all religions are basically the same’ have not spent much
time studying world religions.
What God has done in Christ is
without parallel. The fundamental nature of Christ is without parallel. The
Westminster Divines have said it well, “two whole, perfect, and distinct
natures, the Godhead and the manhood, were inseparably joined together in one
person, without conversion, composition, or confusion.”
You just don’t see that in the other
world religions.
I have no doubt that the Westminster
Divines drew from the deep well of the Book of Hebrews on this subject. The
author of Hebrews spends the first chapter establishing for us the supremacy
of Christ, presenting Him as equal with God the Father (1:3). And then, as
the purpose of Christ’s death is explained, the author of Hebrews presents
Christ as being like one of us.
What a blessed mystery! On one
level, the eternal Son of God, the One through whom the world was made, is
nothing like us. But now, since His Incarnation, there is a level on which the
Son of God is very much like us.
In verse 11, the author testifies
that the One “who sanctifies”—namely, Christ—and “those who are
sanctified”—namely, us—“have the same origin”.
Initially, it may not appear obvious
which origin is being referenced. Is the author talking about our shared
connection to God the Father, or is he talking about our shared connection to
humanity through Adam? The most prudent approach to resolving this interpretive
dilemma, or any interpretive challenge for that matter, is to let the context
of the passage govern us. That is, we look at the verses that closely precede
and follow for help. As we do this it becomes manifest that it is the human
connection that is being spoken of here.
More than that, the author of
Hebrews wants us know that our connection to Christ is not a superficial or a
tenuous connection. Having first established the supremacy of Christ over all
things, the author of Hebrews now declares Christ’s solidarity with humanity.
Having become fully human, we are now told, “for this reason (Christ) is not
ashamed to call (us) brethren” (2:11).
In my mind, this is one of the most
comforting texts in all of Scripture—the Creator of the cosmos, the eternal Son
of God, Jesus Christ is “not ashamed” to call me “brother”! Jesus Christ
is not ashamed to call you “sisters” and “brothers”!
I think back to my childhood as the
youngest of three children. I am eight and ten years younger than my two
siblings and I remember occasions when they would have friends over and I would
arrive on the scene wanting to be included in the gathering. As an eight-year
old, however, I lacked the social skills to effectively mingle with my teenage
siblings and their friends. And what I sometimes found, was that they were
“ashamed” to have their misbehaving little brother around.
I think now of how I’m getting on in
this world as an adult. Once again, I find myself trying to belong, but this
time it is the favour and acceptance from God that I am longing for. And, yet
again, I am aware of my unbefitting behaviour. I want to please God, but I
recognize that I’m doing things, and failing to do things, that God requires of
me.
But then I come to Hebrews 2:11 and
I read that Christ “is not ashamed” to call me “brother”.
As human beings we long for solidarity,
we long to fit in with those we respect and admire. And with some people, no
matter how hard we try, we are excluded from their ‘inner circle’. Thankfully,
our relationship with the Creator of this Universe is different. Our longing
for friendship with Christ is all that is required. If we turn to Christ,
in spite of all our shortcomings, He will not be ashamed to call you “friend”.
What kind of friend is Jesus,
anyway? He is the best kind of friend. In my mind, the first line of the great
hymn is unmatched by the subsequent verses,
What a friend we have in Jesus,
All our sins and griefs to bear!
Or,
as the author of Hebrews puts it, “Since then the children share in flesh
and blood, (Christ) Himself likewise also partook of the same, that through
death He might render powerless him who had the power of death, that is, the
devil; and might deliver (us) who through fear of death were subject to slavery
all (our) lives” (2:14, 15).
The sense is that our salvation
could not be procured any other way. The eternal Son of God, clothing Himself
in the fullness of humanity, is presented as being essential to the saving
process. This point is emphasized in verse 17, “Therefore, (Christ) had
to be made like His brethren in every respect, that He might become a merciful
and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God, to make atonement for the
sins of the people.”
In other words, the combination of Christ’s Divinity
and His humanity was the perfect configuration to save us from sin, death, and
the devil. As God He possessed the power to save us from these things,
and as man He could ably represent us and substitute for us.
This is solidarity of the most profound kind.
According to the author of Hebrews, apart from Christ, humanity is enslaved by
a fear of death. Look around in this world and that is not hard to see. In
addition, not only were we enslaved by a fear of death but we were like a ‘dead
men walking’ as the phrase goes for those who have been issued a death
sentence. But then along comes the Son of God, “made like (us) in every
respect” except sin. And though we are tainted by this sin while Christ
remains sinless, He nevertheless is unashamed to call us “brothers”.
Friends, if you have turned towards Christ, the
Scriptures assure you of your solidarity with the One who holds the keys to
heaven and hell (Rev. 1:17, 18).
The authors of The Heidelberg Catechism understood
this blessed assurance and gave it prominence in Question One of the Catechism:
What is the only comfort in life and death?
Answer: That I, with body and soul, both in life
and in death, am not my own, but belong to my faithful Saviour Jesus Christ,
who with His precious blood has fully satisfied for all my sins, and redeemed
me from all the power of the devil; and so preserves me that without the will
of my Father in heaven not a hair can fall from my head; yea, that all things
must work together for my salvation. Wherefore, by His Holy Spirit, He also
assures me of eternal life, and makes me heartily willing and ready henceforth
to live unto Him.
Would
that be our answer? Is your solidarity with Christ and His benefits your only
true comfort in life and death?
Practically, I don’t know if I can answer that in the
affirmative. I don’t know if my lifestyle appropriately reflects an affirmative
answer. But I can tell you that I desperately want that. I want
Christ to be ‘my only comfort in life and death’. I am also convinced that I
desperately need that. I am convinced that my ultimate happiness hinges
on my connection to Christ.
Now, how do I get there? Well, first, I need to be
convinced that this is possible. And, I’m sufficiently encouraged out of
the starting gates as I read here that Christ is for me. Christ is not
ashamed of me. Christ is committed to me and has demonstrated that in the most
profound way possible—with His very life. So, there is no question about
Christ’s commitment to me. If I’m not connected, that’s my doing, not His. I
grant then that what I desperately want and need is possible. I can see myself
‘heartily willing . . . to live unto Him.’
Secondly, I need to prepare myself for some serious
obstacles. If you haven’t figured it out already; being a Christian in this
world of ours is not easy. Temptation rages on every side, and the competition
for our devotion is fierce.
Such are the challenges to our faith that we consider:
‘Even if I come to Christ, ready and willing, how do I stay the course?’
The author of Hebrews provides some encouragement in
this regard, “since (Christ) Himself was tempted in that which He has
suffered, He is able to come to the aid of those who are tempted” (2:18).
We find a similar message in chapter 4, “For we do
not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weakness, but One who has
been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin” (4:15).
The Son of God knows, first hand, the struggles human
beings face. Jesus is acquainted with our vulnerabilities and our weaknesses.
And, marvelously, we are promised more than just His sympathy—we are told, “(Christ)
is able to come to the aid of those who are tempted” (2:18).
Are you struggling with sin? Do not fear; Christ is
able to save you. Are you struggling to overcome the challenges to your
Christian faith? Are you struggling to live for Christ as you ought? Then, I implore
you to call upon the One who is willing and able to help you.
Draw close to the One who, in spite of all your
failings, is not ashamed to call you “friend”.
In His arms He’ll take and shield thee;
Thou wilt find a solace there. Amen.