Thoughts on Hebrews: God's Rest, Part 3

In the last two posts, we began our approach to understanding God’s rest. I briefly addressed in the first part that rest as Sabbath, cannot be fully embraced as an issue of law: obey the Sabbath or not. While the law is excellent, the law (as clearly reflected in Jesus’ incisive exposition of the law) was meant to instruct towards greater principles than mere observances like going to church and watching the Redskins on Sunday. Thinking of His rest in that limited, Mosaic way is not particularly helpful; and in any event would not explain why God swore in His anger, “They shall never enter into my rest.”

Next, in the second part, I suggested that sins don’t populate columns of rights and wrongs. Sins are the products of sin, as a principle of living, a way of life so interwoven into our hearts and minds that we are rightly confused where we end and sin within us begins. In fact, that confusion has become a cultural hallmark of self-justification: I was born this way.

Sins don’t require an accounting. Sin requires the cross of Jesus Christ, the death of Jesus Christ, the execution of Jesus at our hand.

You would be right to ask, “why are you focusing so much on sin?”

I would answer that we won’t have a fair appreciation of His offer of rest without a fair appraisal of our original condition, which is indelibly marked by sin—a force, a desire, a compulsion much greater than we are.

James says,

[E]ach person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.

That’s as fair a summary as Paul’s was in Romans 1, which we looked at previously in Part 2.

If we overlay Paul and James we see that a desire away from God, or a desire ignoring God, has fathered the multitude of sins with which we are all familiar. The growth in sin has certainly led to death, as James says. But I want to explore another of this death. God said to our desiring parents in Genesis Chapter 3,

Cursed be the soil for your sake, with pangs shall you eat of all the days of your life. Thorn and thistle shall it sprout for you, and you shall eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your brow shall you eat bread till you return to the soil, for from there were you taken, for the dust you are and to the dust you shall return.

God declared our lives would thereafter be a struggle, hard fought against the very earth itself. Much less than dominion, we would earn our existence, by exertion and pain; the riches of the land would be thorns and thistles to choke out meaningful living, and, in the end we would rise no higher than the soil we must till.

What a contrast to the goodness we see and which He repeatedly proclaims in Chapters 1 and 2! Now judgment and death—a hard word from a good God. So, how do we enjoy His favor once again? Well, we don’t, if we fail to acknowledge Him or give Him thanks (Paul). We don’t, if we let our desires run their courses (James). We simply compound the problem Adam and Eve caused in each successive generation.

That’s miserable. Painful. Hopeless. What a judgment!

We learn quite a bit about this hopelessness in Ecclesiastes. And we also learn that man is afraid to die, and that this fear has enslaved us further. (Hebrews 2:15). But that’s not all. We learn that we are slaves, not just to fear, but also to the desires within us:

Don’t you know that when you offer yourselves to someone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one you obey—whether you are slaves to sin, which leads to death . . . (Rom. 6:16)

Even one so forthright as Paul lamented,

I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it. (Rom. 7:15-20)

and again,

What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? (Rom. 7:24).

Great question: who will do it? For God has proclaimed judgment. Will He repent? Nope. Look at Psalm 119:137 (Upright are your judgments) and Psalm 33:5: He loves righteousness and judgment; the earth is full of the goodness of the LORD. How do we square that circle? His judgment and His goodness dwelling together? We don’t. We can’t We have to look to Him, and no other, to satisfy both aspects of His character.

I find that crushing, dreadful. Unless He acts, we are bereft of life, and burdened by hard labor. It’s a real tragedy for us if we fail to appreciate how truly desperate we are, making bricks for Pharoah. Rich, poor, young, and old—all desperate for the goodness of God.

The Scriptures hold up a mirror, and we would do well to look at ourselves seriously. In that vein, understanding our desperation is a critical first step in hearing His voice, in recognizing it is still Today, the day of His salvation.

Let’s keep pushing forward in the successive posts. Thank you for reading.

Image courtesy of Unsplash and whoislimos.