Morning, church.
Our passage this morning is from the book of Hebrews,
chapter 4, verses 14 through 16.
You can find this on page 943 of one of the Bibles
in the pew in front of you.
If you're new to the Bible, the big numbers you see
on the pages of the chapters and the small numbers
are the verses, so you can also use that
to help you navigate to the passage this morning.
As you're finding your way there,
let me open us up with a word of prayer.
Father God, we confess to you this morning
that we are a people in need,
in need of your salvation, your wisdom, your strength,
your righteousness, and your comfort.
We ask that you would open our hearts and minds
as we study your word together, teach us your ways,
reveal to us our need for you,
and make known to us the path that you forged
so that we can be reconciled to you.
We pray these things in the name of Jesus,
our great high priest.
Amen.
Well, I probably don't have to work very hard
to convince you that suffering is something
of a fundamental human experience.
Everybody experiences suffering in different ways,
but I don't think anybody could stand up with honesty
and declare that they've lived a life
or expect to live a life free from suffering.
Many books have been written trying to understand,
address, and minimize our suffering,
and it turns out one of those books
is a popular bedtime book at our house right now.
It's called Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible,
No Good, Very Bad Day.
It's a wonderfully lighthearted exposition
on how we experience, how we process,
and how we respond to our suffering.
It starts out with Alexander, a young schoolboy
who wakes up one day to all kinds of irritating events.
And these events reveal to him the writing on the wall
that today is indeed going to be a terrible, horrible,
no good, very bad day.
And as you might imagine, his prophecy is progressively fulfilled
over the course of his otherwise ordinary activities.
In a single day, Alexander's subjected
to every kind of misfortune that a young child could dream of.
There's the disappointment of the cereal box with no prize,
embarrassment in the school hallways
as he's demoted from best friend to third best friend,
a health scare when the dentist finds a cavity,
the injustice of being forced to buy
the plain old white sneakers
instead of the ones that he actually wants.
And what's so entertaining about this story
is the light that it sheds
on how we're naturally disposed
to respond in these situations.
In the face of injustice, he rebels,
declaring they can buy him the shoes,
but they can't make him wear them.
When confronted with disappointment,
he longs to retreat far, far away to Australia.
When his best friend demotes him,
he curses him, wishing that his ice cream
would fall off the cone and land far away in Australia.
And the dentist?
Well, he won't have the opportunity to fix that cavity
because it turns out that Alexander is scheduled
to be in, of all places, Australia during his appointment.
We can probably all see a little bit of Alexander in ourselves, right?
So what's the lesson of the story here?
After a day of tragedy after tragedy befalling Alexander,
feeling tired, dejected, and alone,
he lays his head on his pillow
and declares that it has indeed been a terrible, horrible,
no good, very bad day,
to which his mother lovingly replies,
some days are just like that,
even in Australia.
On the one hand, this is a great lesson to learn
for children and adults.
There are two things asserted here.
The first is pretty explicit.
Bad days are going to happen,
and there's not much you can do about it.
The second is more implied.
Not every day is going to be a bad day,
and tomorrow is a new day.
The real lesson is that we can persevere
through our bad days
in hope of the better days that are to come.
And this is a wonderfully practical lesson
that everybody certainly needs to learn,
but it stops short a bit, doesn't it?
Aren't there some underlying questions
that still need to get answered?
Is it really just chance that today was a bad day?
Do I have any control over my bad days?
What if my bad day turns into a bad week,
or a bad month, or a bad year?
And if persevering is the way to handle my bad day,
where do I get the strength,
and what am I persevering toward?
These are deep questions that require rich answers,
and our text today has a lot to say about this.
So again, turn in your Bibles with me
or follow along on the screen
as I read our passage,
Hebrews chapter 4, verses 14 through 16.
Since then, we have a great high priest
who has passed through the heavens,
Jesus, the Son of God,
that has hold fast our confession.
For we do not have a high priest
who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses,
but one who in every respect
has been tempted as we are,
yet without sin.
Let us then with confidence
draw near to the throne of grace
that we may receive mercy
and find grace to help in time of need.
Well, before we dive in,
it's helpful to back up just a little bit
and get some context about the book of Hebrews.
This book was likely written
to a group of Jewish Christians
who were suffering under political pressure
and persecution on account
of their newly found faith.
The letter is meant to be an exhortation
and an encouragement,
an exhortation to persevere,
to not forsake their God and Savior
in response to their persecution,
and also an encouragement
that God himself is faithful to sustain us,
to equip us,
and to shape us through our suffering.
So we're picking up in a passage
that's about a third of the way
through the letter,
and the author's already been building up
to this point in his argument.
He's expounded on the person
and the work of Jesus
as superior in every way.
The person of Jesus is called
the radiance of the glory of God
and the exact imprint of his nature,
higher than angels,
and the one true Son of God.
And the work of Jesus
is that he has made purification for our sins
because he led a perfectly faithful
and obedient life
and then suffered and died
as the perfect and superior sacrifice
for our sake.
Jesus' nature and his work,
we're told,
make him the greatest high priest,
greater even than Moses,
with the job of rescuing humanity
and the creation that was his from the start.
And it's because of the person and work of Jesus
that we have an opportunity
to enter into a rest for the people of God.
And up to now in our passage,
this opportunity seems to be at risk
because of the temptation to forsake
their newly found faith.
So now we arrive at our passage,
which starts,
since then we have a great high priest.
The author is saying,
since Jesus is so great
and since he died for you and for me
and since your suffering
is tempting you to reject the rest
that God has offered,
listen to what I'm about to say.
In a nutshell,
the author is going to tell us
that Jesus,
as our all-sufficient high priest,
supplies us with everything we need
to rightly interpret,
process,
and respond to our suffering
and temptation in times of trial.
So in asking,
what do we do in the face
of suffering and temptation,
our passage lays out three helpful steps.
First, confess our weaknesses.
Second, cling to our great high priest.
And third, come to the throne for help.
Confess our weaknesses,
cling to our great high priest,
and come to the throne for help.
So in verse 14,
the first verse in our passage,
the author calls us
to hold fast our confession.
And what is this confession
that we're supposed to be
holding on to so tightly?
At a high level,
it's referring to holistic confession
of gospel teaching,
confessing the person
and the work of Jesus Christ
as we just talked about.
The more specific context
of our passage, though,
suggests that this confession
has something to do
with temptation and suffering.
So in this explicit
and ultimate confession
of who Jesus is
and what he's done for us,
there's also an implicit
and contextual confession
about who we are
in relation to Jesus.
We're confessing here
that Jesus is strong
and faithful
while we are weak
and wayward.
As we consider these terms,
suffering, weakness,
and temptation,
let's try to outline
their definitions
and their relationships
to one another
to sort of help ground
the discussion.
First, suffering.
If we want to know
how to rightly understand
and respond to our suffering,
then the best starting point
is to define
what we mean by suffering.
For our purposes,
it'll be helpful
to cast suffering
as directly experiencing
that the world
is not as it should be
and recognizing
that it's not within our power
to change it.
We might experience loneliness,
sickness,
separation, or death,
and it's natural to feel
that there's something
not right about our experiences
in the world.
And what's more,
because we're part
of this natural
and created world,
this brokenness,
this sin,
is not just around us,
it's also within us.
And whether it's sin
in the world
or sin in ourselves,
it often seems as though
we're powerless to fix it.
And this realization
can produce
a great deal of distress.
So if suffering
is recognizing
and experiencing
that the world
is not as it should be,
then it seems
that our suffering
stems in part
from our second term,
weakness.
Now,
weakness in and of itself
is not actually
a bad thing.
All of us have weaknesses,
and the Genesis account
clearly outlines
that by virtue
of being created,
that we are not God
and therefore
not self-sufficient.
There are some things,
many things,
in fact,
that we just can't
do ourselves.
We were created
to be fully dependent
on God,
and that was meant
for our good
and for God's glory.
Where our weakness
becomes a potential problem
is when temptation
enters the picture.
The brokenness
within us
and around us
presses in
on our weaknesses
and drives a temptation
to turn from God
and look for our own solution
to our problems.
If then our faith
in God
is marked
by a joyful
and confident
dependence
on our Creator,
then when sin
enters the equation,
our faith is challenged
by temptation
and suffering,
threatening to rob
our joy
and our confidence
in God's care
and provision for us.
So now we've arrived
at our third term,
temptation.
What does temptation
actually look like?
The majority
of temptations,
I think,
can be boiled down
to doubting God
and more specifically
doubting His goodness,
His sovereignty,
or both.
Maybe God is so good
that He wants the best
for me,
but He must not be
powerful enough
to make it happen.
Or alternatively,
maybe God is so powerful
that He could make
everything perfect for me,
but He must not love me enough
to care to do it.
In either case,
when we're suffering,
it can quickly feel
as though God
is uninterested in
or unable to resolve
what's wrong
in our lives.
But Jesus is very clear,
though.
In John chapter 16,
He says,
in the world,
you will have tribulation,
but take heart.
I have overcome
the world.
If we have Jesus
as our great high priest,
then we have
an infinitely capable
and caring master
who's gone before us
in our suffering.
And in doing so,
He's overcome
the darkness in the world
so that sorrow
might be turned to joy.
But doubt can begin
to creep in,
even for the most faithful
among us.
Sometimes the doubt
leads us to question
God's provision for us
and we're tempted
to take control
for ourselves.
The temptation
always sounds something like,
if I don't do this thing
for myself,
then I'll never experience
the full joy
that I desire.
So better get to work
finding the right spouse,
getting a good job,
making a good living,
raising a good family,
taking care of your body,
taking care of your community.
Otherwise,
we'll never find
our true fulfillment.
Right?
Now, these things
are all certainly
good things to pursue,
but remember our confession.
The world is broken
and so are we.
So what happens
when despite our best efforts,
we're unable to accomplish
these goals for our lives?
If these are the things
that bring true joy,
where are we left
without them?
Well, friends,
we suffer greatly
because at the end of the day,
we've recognized
the brokenness in our world
and we put our faith
in something
that can't ultimately
fix the problem.
But suffering doesn't come
only when we give in
to temptation,
but even and sometimes
especially as we resist
temptation,
we might find ourselves
dealing with a chronic
health condition,
a struggling marriage,
chronic unemployment,
and the like.
And it's here
that we might feel
as though we've reached
the end of our
spiritual endurance.
It's natural
to find ourselves
asking with the psalmists,
how long,
oh Lord?
And it's important
to recognize
that even in this,
there is a rightness
to confessing our weakness
and our temptation
to despair.
Consider again
the passage
that was read
this morning
from Lamentations,
starting in verse 17.
My soul is bereft
of peace.
I have forgotten
what happiness is.
So I say,
my endurance
has perished.
So has my hope
from the Lord.
Even in the midst
of great perseverance
through trials
and suffering,
you might find
in your weakness
that you feel
as though
you can't persevere
any longer.
And you begin
to doubt
if even the Almighty God
is big enough
to pull you out
of your deep well
of suffering.
But the beauty
of the gospel
is that when God
reaches into our lives
and pulls us
out of the darkness
and into the light,
we're raised
to a new spiritual life.
And like any new life,
the starting point
involves a lot
of weakness.
And so,
from the start,
God begins in us
a very good work
of sanctification
or molding us
into the people
that he's created us
to be.
This looks a lot
like a lifelong
spiritual workout
kind of challenging
a muscle
to make it stronger.
There are many ways
in which our faith
is weak
and we're not
at all aware
of it
until God
graciously intervenes
in our lives
to issue a challenge
to those muscles.
But you can be sure
that whatever
difficulty
or injury
you sustain
in the process
of this workout,
he'll be there
to carry you
through the entire thing.
So when we suffer,
we said we should
confess our weaknesses,
but is that it?
Do we just finally
fess up
and then everything
is magically better?
Well, turn back again
with me to our passage
from Lamentations,
picking up in verse 21.
But this I call
to mind
and therefore
I have hope.
The steadfast love
of the Lord
never ceases.
His mercies
never come
to an end.
They're new
every morning.
Great is your faithfulness.
The Lord
is my portion,
says my soul.
Therefore,
I will hope
in Him.
You see,
as we confess
our weaknesses
and our waywardness,
we ought not
to get weighed down
by our sin
and by our weaknesses,
kind of dwelling
on the ways
in which we're not
strong enough
or smart enough
or good enough.
Rather,
when we're confessing
our weaknesses
to the Lord,
we're confessing
to the one
who is infinitely strong,
completely sovereign,
and perfectly good
all of the things
that we are not
we find in lamentations
that our endurance
has perished,
but the mercy
and the faithfulness
of the Lord
is unending,
and as long
as we cling
to Him
as our portion,
our weakness
is not the end of us.
And this leads us
to our second point.
We said,
to rightly understand
and respond
to our suffering,
we have to first
confess our weaknesses
and temptations,
and second,
we have to cling
to our great high priest.
This is part of the
since then
in verse 14,
let us hold fast
or cling to Him,
our great high priest,
who is indeed
our confession.
And verse 15
expounds on why
we can and should
do this.
It says,
for we do not
have a high priest
who is unable
to sympathize
with our weaknesses,
but one who
in every respect
has been tempted
as we are,
yet without sin.
So what is
a high priest
exactly?
We said we should
be confessing
to the Lord,
but the problem
in the Old Testament
was that because
of our sin,
there was no way
to actually stand
in the presence
of an infinitely
holy God
to proceed
with the confession.
So God,
in His mercy,
appointed one high priest
who each year
would go into the room
in the tabernacle
where God was dwelling,
and He would offer
sacrifices on behalf
of Himself,
and all of the people
of Israel.
If we look ahead
to chapter 5 in Hebrews,
it says,
every high priest
chosen from among men
is appointed to act
on behalf of men
in relation to God
to offer gifts
and sacrifices
for sins.
He can deal gently
with the ignorant
and wayward
since He Himself
is beset
with weakness.
This high priest
was a person
who was well acquainted
with weakness
and could therefore
effectively empathize with
and advocate
for those in His community
who would confess
their own weaknesses.
Only this one person
who was appointed
by God
could go into His presence
to offer the necessary
sacrifices for Himself
and for the people.
These sacrifices
were meant to be
an acknowledgement
and repentance
of our weakness
and sinfulness
in the sight of the Lord
as well as a reminder
that the ultimate consequence
of sin
is death.
But it was also
a reminder
of God's faithfulness,
a reminder
that God had intervened
to cover over
our iniquity
so that we could be
reconciled to Him.
In these sacrifices,
God was graciously
transferring
our record of sin
to another
and wiping our slate clean.
Of course,
this sacrificial procedure
had to continue annually
because the sacrifices
were never really enough
to cover over
everyone's sins
once and for all.
No single high priest
could ever be
the eternal high priest
until Jesus.
God came to dwell
with His creation
in human form
so that He might live
the perfect life,
become the perfect
sacrificial offering,
and secure His status
as the eternal high priest.
And importantly,
this was going to require
suffering.
Hebrews tells us
that Jesus is the founder
and perfecter of our faith
and He was made perfect
by the suffering
which He endured
on our behalf.
You see,
by joining His own creation,
God was eliminating
any claim
that He is a distant God,
that He's somehow aloof
and uninterested in
our suffering.
Rather,
He is so interested
in His creation
that He joined it,
experiencing in full
every form of weakness,
temptation,
and suffering
that we have experienced
and more,
and yet without sin.
And He did this
all for the sake
of our reconciliation
to Him.
Consider Matthew 4
where we find Jesus
in the wilderness
after fasting
for 40 days
and 40 nights.
And the passage says
that He was hungry.
Makes sense.
Satan leverages
that weakness
to challenge
Jesus' faith
by seeding doubt
and tempting Him
to use His power
to turn stones
into bread
and meet His own
physical needs.
Certainly,
this temptation
to doubt God's provision
must have yielded
some physical suffering.
Later in Matthew,
we see as Jesus
is knowingly approaching
His own execution,
He tells His disciples
that His soul
is overwhelmed
with sorrow
to the point
of death.
And later,
as He hung
on the cross,
scorned,
hated,
and despised,
Jesus quotes
the Psalms
in His darkest moment
saying,
My God,
my God,
why have you
forsaken me?
Can you hear
the agony
in Jesus' words?
Friends,
if this isn't
a temptation
to doubt God
and to despair
in our circumstances,
I don't know
what is.
And yet,
Jesus remains faithful
to the bitter end,
and in doing so,
He bears the ultimate
experience
that we deserved,
separation
from our Creator.
Importantly,
the mere fact
that Jesus suffered
greatly did not
diminish the effectiveness
of His ministry,
His standing before God,
or His sufficiency
as the ultimate sacrifice.
On the contrary,
He is our great
High Priest
because of His suffering.
He's merciful to us
through His suffering,
and He's the perfect
sacrifice for us
by His suffering.
So if the perfect
Holy Creator
can enter into
our suffering with us
and redeem
that very suffering
for our good
and His glory,
then ought we not
view our own suffering
with hope.
Jesus' life,
death,
and resurrection
mean that He is not
only the perfect sacrifice
for our sins,
but also the conqueror
of sin and death
and the risen,
eternal High Priest.
Our sin was laid
upon Him,
and because of
His great love for us,
He advocates for us
at the throne of God
so that when God
looks at us,
He doesn't see our sin,
but He sees Jesus'
righteousness,
and He welcomes us
into fellowship with Him.
And this leads us
to our final point.
If we confess our weakness
and we cling
to our great High Priest,
then by His merit,
we can come to the throne
for help.
We're encouraged
in verse 16,
let us then with confidence
draw near
to the throne of grace
that we may receive mercy
and find grace to help
in time of need.
You see,
the one who was faithful
until the bitter end
was faithful so that
we could be reconciled
to God.
And part of being
reconciled to God
means being regenerated
into the person
that God created us to be,
a process called
sanctification.
This process isn't easy.
Scripture compares it
to a refiner's fire,
a process of melting down
a metal such as gold
for purification purposes.
The refiner would apply
heat to the metal
and the impurities
or the dross
would rise to the surface
for removal
so that the only thing
remaining
was the precious metal itself.
Sanctification is a similar
process for us.
The heat applied
can be painful indeed,
but we can rest assured
that the heat exists
with the explicit purpose
of filtering sin
and brokenness
from our lives.
And here's the thing.
Jesus was so perfectly faithful
that he willingly died
to reconcile us to God.
And if part of that reconciliation
requires sanctification,
then the one who is
perfectly faithful,
totally sovereign,
and completely loving
must certainly be faithful
to complete the good work
that he's begun in us.
Think about it this way.
Imagine going to a flea market
and stumbling upon something
that's nearly priceless.
Maybe it's a rare jewel,
a historic painting,
or a memento
of some iconic figure
that you greatly admire.
And in your excitement,
you pay a massive price
to possess this treasure.
Now, you're at the flea market,
so this thing's been out
in the elements
for quite some time,
and so it's pretty banged up.
It's got dirt all over it.
It's covered in scratches and dents.
It's just totally worn down.
And now that you've got it,
you have a choice.
You can clean it up
so that you can put it on display
so that everyone can see it
and admire its beauty
and magnificence.
Or you can leave it
broken, dirty, and haggard
only to continue degrading
in its current form
until it's completely unrecognizable.
What are you going to do?
Obviously, you're going to clean it up, right?
I mean, what sense would it make
to pay a great price
for a wonderful treasure
and never care for it,
leaving it to decay?
Friends, the God who is faithful
considered us,
his creation,
to be so valuable
that he was willing
to empty himself completely
to save us,
even as we were covered
in complete sin and brokenness.
And this same God promises us
that he is fully committed
to our sanctification.
Certainly, this God
must also be compassionate enough
to meet us and sustain us
through our moments of suffering.
But this doesn't relieve us
of our personal responsibility
to persevere in our faith.
So, what do we do?
What does it mean
to approach the throne of grace
as it says in verse 16?
Well, on one level,
it's important to recognize
that we are physical beings
living in a broken world.
And by common grace,
God's revealed many ways
that we can manage
the experiences
of our brokenness.
Maybe it's diet and exercise,
counseling,
modern medicine,
or other avenues
of physical care.
And just as we know
that God designed our bodies
to function with certain inputs,
he also designed us as people
to function as a community
and not as individuals.
We're called to be
a people of community
so that we can one another well.
God never intended
that we should experience
hardship and suffering
and isolation,
but rather he knew
that in our weakness,
we would need support.
We receive our support
principally through him,
but one of the ways
in which he meets needs
is through those
whom he's called
to a community.
So if you're struggling,
find a trusted friend
or mentor.
Share openly
about your temptations
and your suffering.
Open the door
for God to work in your life
through others
that have been shaped
by his grace
through their own trials
and tribulations.
And tribulations.
But at its core,
when we talk about
approaching the throne
for help,
it means approaching God
in the ways
that he's instructed us,
reading his word
and praying regularly.
God's revealed himself
to us through his word,
both his written word
and the living word,
Jesus Christ,
and through his word,
we're instructed
to be anxious about nothing
but by prayer
and supplication
and with thanksgiving
to submit a request
to God.
And the promise,
the peace of God
which transcends
all understanding
will guard your hearts
and your minds
in Christ Jesus.
Jesus gives us
an example
of what it looks like
to do this
in our moments of suffering.
In the garden of Gethsemane,
as he awaits his executioners,
he prays,
My Father,
if it be possible,
let this cup pass from me.
Nevertheless,
not as I will,
but as you will.
You see,
Jesus is fully immersed
in the weakness
of humanity
in this moment
and in the weakness
of the flesh,
he's confronted
with significant temptation
to defect
from God's ultimate plan.
He certainly had the power
to escape,
but in faithful submission,
he says,
not as I will,
but as you will.
This is our ultimate prayer
because we know
that the will of the one
who is faithful
is a will
for our sanctification,
for our eternal good
and his glory.
And what could be better
than that?
I wonder if you're struggling
today with suffering,
temptation,
or despair.
Maybe you miss a loved one
or you're longing
for connection
or companionship.
Maybe you lost your job,
received a difficult
health diagnosis,
or maybe you're battling
addiction
or depression.
whatever it is,
don't relent
in your faith.
Persevere.
Hold fast
your confession.
Continue reading
the scripture.
Continue praying.
Continue gathering
together
and continue
worshiping.
Remember
that by confessing
our weaknesses
and clinging
to Jesus,
we have confidence
in the purpose
of our suffering
and the right
to boldly ask
for help
in our time of need.
Jesus has gone before us
and walks with us
through our suffering
and the one
who is perfectly faithful
will not forsake us
as we endure
the fog
and the fire
of sanctification.
One commentator
says it well,
sanctification
is glory begun
and glory
is sanctification
completed.
Friends,
any suffering
we experience
serves only
to promote
the sanctification
which God
has for us
and the very nature
of sanctification
is that it's temporary
and it's purposeful.
Sanctification
is a process
with a clear
and amazing end.
It's moving us
toward glory,
a glory
where there's
no more suffering
and where we finally
end up
where we were created
to be,
resting in the presence
of our Creator
and Lord.
Let's pray.
Father,
we thank you
that because of your
great love,
you joined us
in our suffering
and went before us
to forge a path
of reconciliation
and regeneration.
and we thank you
that by the power
of the blood
of Jesus
we can boldly
approach you
to ask for your help
in our great times
of need.
We ask that your peace
would be a reality
to us
and that we would not
grow weary
by the trials
and temptations
of this life
but that we would look
confidently
and joyously
to the day
of ultimate redemption
when we can rest
in glory
with you.
We pray this
in the name
of our great
high priest
Jesus Christ.
Amen.