Anyone who lives on milk, being still an infant, is not acquainted with the teaching about righteousness. But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil. (Hebrews 5:13-14)
Posted in Hebrews
In fact, though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you the elementary truths of God’s word all over again. You need milk, not solid food! (Hebrews 5:12)
Posted in Hebrews
We have much to say about this, but it is hard to make it clear to you because you no longer try to understand. (Hebrews 5:11)
I’ve been spending the last three days with a group of clever folks planning Sunday School lessons to be taught all over the country next year and the years following. As we discuss the approaches that we’ll take to answering such questions as “Is there absolute truth?” or “What happens to Christians when they die?” we invariably wind up unpacking our thoughts to such an extent that we completely overfill the one-hour lesson possibilities.
One guy, a sort of philosopher and former missionary, continually brings up complex philosophical questions, questions completely relevant to the matter at hand but way too complicated to be thoroughly understood by our target audience: fifth and sixth graders. He’ll say something like this, “That’s great, but it is essential that we not ignore the epistemological ramifications of the propositional nature of revelation in the form of Scripture.” Okay, he didn’t really say that, but he does bring up interesting, complicated matters, sure to cross the eyes of intelligent adults.
When it comes to understanding something as simple as the nature of an infinite God, it’s no wonder that we cannot complete the task in sixty minutes, especially when teaching kids on the cusp of middle school, especially when using mostly non-specialists as teachers, especially when we consider that the lesson is more of a lifetime than an hour. I don’t fully understand the nature of God. I don’t fully understand my wife, so how can I hope to understand God?
The key, it seems to me, in this endeavor is not so much whether we fully understand the nature of God but whether we actually try to understand. The author of Hebrews here criticizes his readers for ceasing to try to understand. They don’t get it, not because they’re incapable but because they’re not making the effort.
While I will never fully comprehend the God who created the universe, I should never cease to try. Granted, as I learn more, I may recognize even more completely just how ignorant I am. I might die seeing more clearly just how far from full understanding I am. So be it. The more I know, the more I’ll know Him. I trust that the reward will be worthwhile.
and, once made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him and was designated by God to be high priest in the order of Melchizedek. (Hebrews 5:9-10)
Looking in the mirror today, I couldn’t help but notice my lack of perfection. My hair is receding in uneven and undesirable directions. My belly is advancing over my belt. My eyes struggle to focus. I’m a bit of a wreck. My quest for perfection will have to wait until–oh, who am I kidding? It’s a lost cause.
As I read today’s verse, a continuation of the sentence in yesterday’s, I’m struck by something. Jesus, if I read this correctly, did not start out perfect. That’s not to say that he started out sinful and the worked his way to sinless. I don’t see that sort of thing ever happening. Instead, I think it means that he simply wasn’t perfect at the outset. Like a tiny green tomato on a vine, Jesus began as potentially perfect. He suffered in the wilderness, resisting temptation. He suffered undoubtedly before that. His temptation may have continued after the wilderness, although apparently Satan left him alone for a time.
When did Jesus become perfect? I’m not sure. If that verse, the one saying, “And with that piece of suffering Jesus officially became perfect,” apparently didn’t make any of the gospels. What we do know is that suffering led to obedience, which led to perfection, which made him the proper vessel for my salvation.
No amount of suffering or obedience can make me the Lamb slain before the foundation of the world, but, happily, that job has already been filled. In fact, no amount of suffering or obedience will ever perfect me, but that’s okay.
Even as my body betrays the passage of years and my poor eating habits, my spirit, through suffering and obedience can become, if not perfect, less imperfect. Once again, if such a thing was desirable for Jesus, then it’s good for me as well. Perhaps tomorrow, as I look into the mirror, I can see myself as not better looking but a bit closer to perfect than what I saw today.
Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered (Hebrews 5:8)
I’ve been suffering today. There’s been food sitting in front of me pretty much from the rising of the sun to the setting of the same. Breakfast, at the Hampton Inn in Goodlettsville, Tennessee, included omelets and muffins. Good stuff. Lunch was taken at Chick fil-A. For dinner, we had oodles of pizza and then ice cream at the Baskin Robbins next door. In between, lest we waste away, we had a steady availability of candy and shortcake.
Okay, that wasn’t really suffering. In fact it wasn’t suffering at all. Perhaps if I had eaten the fruit for breakfast, the salad for lunch, and a couple of slices of cheese pizza at dinner, I might have been both sensible and (to a degree) suffering.
I’d never really thought of it before looking at today’s verse, but it’s really on in suffering that we’re being obedience. Could I claim to be obedient when my host tonight said, “Get some ice cream, Mark”? I followed his direction, but in doing so I simply did what I wanted. Big deal.
We learn obedience when we do what does not come naturally, what chafes against the sinful spirit. We learn obedience when we roll out of bed at an unkind hour, deprive the body of the food that it would love to ingest, or read scripture rather than watching NCIS.
How, precisely, did Jesus suffer? Beyond the cross, I’m not entirely sure, but I don’t believe that the author of Hebrews referred here only to those eighteen hours. Perhaps Jesus suffered in rising at hours that his body resisted. Perhaps he suffered each time he had to smell the stench of life in first century Judea.
I don’t know that it matters. He suffered and learned obedience. If Jesus needed that learning, how much more do I need it?
The devotions, notes, and observations collected here, reflect the contemplations of Mark Browning. At their heart, these entries represent his reflections upon God's Word. Should you find them to be useful in your walk, make yourself welcome.
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Mark also posts occasional essays upon Christianity and literature at A Noble Theme.
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