Hebrews 11:1-6

A couple years ago, our family visited the Basketball Hall of Fame. On display are pictures documenting the development of the game, giant Nike’s that made mine look like toddlers’ shoes, and players’ handprints that my head could fit into. These people deserve their fame, and everything about them that has been preserved for us makes that point.

Hebrews 11 invites us to linger like we’re staring at snapshots documenting ancient faith, following giant footprints of those who’ve gone before us, and noticing the massive handprint of the One who held them all the way. 

If we rolled out the red carpet, the subjects of this chapter would probably look over their shoulders wondering who was being honored. Fame wasn’t the path they walked; faith was. Hebrews 11 describes the effect that faith had in their lives, but first, it reaches back in time to start the discussion on faith with the beginning of the world, before any human made their mark.

Verses 1-3. Faith agrees that when God spoke, atoms arranged, molecules bonded, chemicals reacted, and matter came into being. Life formed, because God said it should. Life continues because He upholds it by the Word of His power. What I see with my eyes was created because God opened His mouth. 

Faith accepts that life itself depends on the Word of God. 

Verses 4-6. Life is full of endings, often unexpected ones, as seen in the first two examples highlighted in this chapter. These men didn’t know their days would be cut short: one is murdered, taken at the hand of his angry brother; the other is taken by the hand of God and avoided experiencing death. Their sudden departures from life only amplify their legacy of faith. 

Unlike his brother, Abel drew near to God in faith. This pleased God but infuriated his brother enough to kill Abel for it. All over the world today, martyrs’ blood declares their faith long after they’re gone. 

Unlike his ancestors, whose sin caused them to hide from God as God walked through the garden, Enoch walked with God.  He stood in contrast to the sin of his people, prophesying about the Lord’s coming judgment on it. In response to his close relationship with God, God essentially “raptured” him from Earth.  His was a faith that was eager to be in God’s presence.

Both Abel and Enoch believed God, unlike many of their family, ancestors, or contemporaries, and this kind of faith still speaks.  They lived before the Flood, preceded Abraham, and lived generations prior to the Exodus, but the limited revelation from God that they had by their lifetime was enough to change the way they lived. And I complain that God hasn’t made things clear enough for me to step out in faith! 

Sometimes the step of faith He’s calling us to brings an end to something. Most endings we face regularly aren’t as drastic as loss of life - they’re just the close of a season of life.  Some are predictable, but others are not. I find that it’s hardest on my faith when it seems that the song of a particular season is only half-sung when change comes, or like I’m stopping mid-stride to pivot with God’s plan. How could God use efforts that seem so “unfinished”? Abel and Enoch teach me that when things end before the time I had imagined:

Faith to the end speaks loudly in an unexpected end.  

We’ll keep moving down the Hall of Faith, stopping to read the plaques and signs along the way.

For now, we’re left to ponder these questions from verses 1-7:

Do I believe the Word like my life depends on it?

If my life or a particular season of life ended suddenly tomorrow, would there be evidence from today that I lived by faith?

Trials & Testing

Throughout life, it seems that the trials of my faith prove just how little of it I have. I could assume the nickname for myself that Jesus compassionately created for His disciples, “Little-faith ones”. The trying circumstances in which Jesus used this unique term are recorded in Matthew’s Gospel, and they highlight reactions to life that come much more naturally - at least to me - than faith does.

Anxiety: “Will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious…” Matthew 6:30-31. 

Draw me into dependence on You as my Father. You’re enough for today.

Fear: “Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?” Matthew 8:26.  

Calm me as my Creator, present with me in the rocking boat.

Doubt: “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” Matthew 14:31. 

Reassure me as my Rescuer with your reliable Word and steady hand.

Inattention: “O you of little faith, why are you discussing among yourselves the fact that you have no bread?...Do you not perceive? Don’t you remember the five loaves…or the seven loaves?” Matthew 16:5-12.  

Show me all your past evidence as Provider, so that I trust you right now. 

May we respond to this nickname like the apostles did in humble desperation before the Lord, “Increase our faith!” Luke 17:5.

“If you have faith like a grain of mustard seed…nothing will be impossible for you.” Matthew 17:20. 

Psalm 19: in my own words

The Spirit of God inspired His Word in their original languages, and diligent scholars translated it into ours. Reading any text, examining it, and then rewriting it, is an exercise that uncovers, personalizes, and internalizes the meaning, but it is not to be held on equal grounds with inspiration or even translation. Based on my study of this chapter, below is my paraphrase and amplification of it.  May it breathe fresh joy into your heart.

From sunrise to sunset, the sky breaks out 

in unspoken declaration and wordless proclamation across the globe:

God is glorious, and this is His creation!

There is no language barrier or geographic limitation 

preventing this message from spreading. 

The sun rises and sets, faithfully and fully, 

touching every inch of the earth with its warmth.

The law of the LORD is completely without defect, 

restoring wholeness to our souls.

The testimony of the LORD is confirmed, 

making the naive wise.

The precepts of the LORD are level and straight, 

delighting our hearts with a perfect fit.

The commandment of the LORD is radiant, 

making our eyes glow with illumination.

The fear of the LORD is pure, 

standing the test of time.

The rules of the LORD are stable and righteous in their unity.

They satisfy our cravings more

than all the pleasures of wealth or exquisite food.

By them your servant is warned; 

by keeping them, your servant is rewarded.

Who can discern, on their own, all their mistakes?

Acquit me of hidden faults.

Hold me back from arrogant sins; 

don’t let them hold me under their power.

Then I will be blameless and acquitted of great wrongdoing.

When I open my mouth, may my words be aligned with your Word;

When I’m silent, may my thoughts embody your beautiful truth like the sky does.

In this way, I long to bring a smile to your face, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.

1 Kings 17:1-7

We all have experiences, interactions, and conversations which, unbeknownst to us, shape our trajectory early in life and become a regular source of our development over time. Whether positive or negative, each contributes to who we are and who we’re becoming. I grieve with you any early trauma, harsh words, or mistreatment, and I pray that those are being redeemed under the power of Jesus for your own beautiful and purposeful identity as God’s child. 

God’s work of using His Word in my heart began before I had a choice in the matter. I was born to first-time parents, Bob and Carla, in the early 80’s and given the pre-meditated name, Cherith.  Growing up, I knew I would never walk into a store and find a pencil or a keychain with my name on it, although I would always scan the C’s, just in case. 

But my parents made sure that I knew the backstory for Cherith, found in 1 Kings 17. Elijah the prophet had informed the wicked king Ahab that there would be no rain for three years, a terrible plight for an agrarian society.  God told Elijah to run for his life - probably from both the king and the famine - to the brook Cherith, where he could hide near a water source and be fed by ravens for a while.  

From this scene, my parents set a vision for me to be, what they defined as, “a provider of encouragement” like the brook Cherith in a desert season.  I didn’t know then what a gift they gave in speaking a purpose statement like that over me. I owe so much to them. As I grew older and fell in love with Hebrew, I learned that Cherith means cutting, a separation. Hmm. That doesn’t sound encouraging. 

Cuts 

Valleys

Ravines 

Crevices 

Gouges in rock

Deep slices in the earth

These are the places, broken and opened, where a source of water could be found in a time of famine.  

And so it is with encouragement: it flows best out of those parts of our lives that were once whole, then split in two. Out of these crevices, carved and scarred, God can miraculously sustain someone else if we’re willing to invite them to the riverbank. May your valleys shape you into a deep source of encouragement in another’s famine, even if you feel you're just a trickle of hope.

What friend, colleague, or child could you inspire with a vision for their life, like my parents did for me, by pointing out a truth that “has their name written all over it”?

Matthew 6:19-34

I remember looking out my window during the early days of Covid, watching the birds pecking at the ground in tireless expectation and noticing the flowers blooming once again, just as they always did every spring. How normal our backyard seemed for them. The worries of the world hadn’t changed their routines, and I found myself longing with King David in his fifty-fifth Psalm, “Oh that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest.”

But I don’t have wings, so there is no escaping anxiety by fleeing to a fantasy world. The real world threatens, so I busy my hands resolving worries with work: investing, gathering, saving, making, learning, planning, earning, spending, fixing, beautifying, perfecting... and all this effort brings me face to face with my limitations.  

Whether it’s abilities, gifting, or season of life, there’s a limit to my activity, and limits often seem disadvantageous to existence in the world. Beyond that, living for kingdom priorities of heavenly treasure instead of earthly possessions, and of generosity instead of self-absorption, intensifies the question of how will I survive? Do I even dare ask, is there a chance I can thrive?

Jesus answers the first anxious question by pointing to the birds. These tiny creatures are limited to life without hands to plant, harvest, or store away, but their Creator, whose design for them was intentional, feeds them their daily portion. Every worm plucked from the ground is an act of God’s provision. He doesn’t father the birds, yet he feeds them.

But is mere survival all we can expect in kingdom living? Interestingly, Jesus does not continue to use utilitarian design in order to illustrate the Father’s concern for us.  If the basics of food, water, and shelter were His strict parameters for care, Jesus could have continued His speech with, “And don’t you see how fluffy the birds become in winter? They have all the protection they need to survive, so don’t worry about clothes.”

Instead, He asks us to consider wild lilies whose lifespan and contribution is limited, but whose adornment is unrivaled by royalty. Their flourishing indicates something more than brand names and gold rings can indicate in our human world: it indicates thriving from the inside out. Jesus refers to these wildflowers as evidence that the body is more to Him than just the fabric we layer on top of it, and our obsession with externals is backwards. God doesn’t father the flowers, yet he provides for and delights in their brief and genuine flourishing. Imagine his delight in ours. 

God is not just Creator, but Father to His children, those of us with a little faith and countless limitations. He is fully aware of what hinders us and of the limitations we wish were not ours, but it’s often those that point to His care.  When we are as diligent as the birds in our daily pursuit of His kingdom and as dependent as the wildflowers to flourish with His character, we operate within the kingdom ecosystem. Our surviving and thriving, as a result, will be to our Father’s credit and delight.

Do some bird watching with Him, and notice the wildflowers.