Skidding Into a Steadfast Hope (Hebrews 6)

A quick (but extremely thorough) bout with a stomach virus provided some quiet in which to ponder the word hope. Skidding to a stop, writing not one word, reading not one sentence, resting in the enforced quiet, I was able to see some road signs that the busy blur had obscured.

The thought came to me in the midst of my virus-riddled thinking: It’s just as easy for me to lose my hope in God when things are going really well as it is when times are rough. At the end of the skid came the realization that I had begun to put my hope health, productivity, and a predictable schedule— all completely unworthy objects for my hope!

The writer of Hebrews speaks of a hope that is an anchor for the soul, a mighty hope sworn by the immutable God concerning my future in heaven and the security of my soul in the meantime.

“This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which enters the Presence behind the veil.” (Hebrews 6:19)

Notice the strange configuration of images attached to this anchor. I’m no sailor, but the anchors I have seen always hang downward when they are doing their job. This anchor is running into the Holy of Holies, through the veil that was split by Jesus’ redemptive death. Spreading His own blood on the altar of sacrifice on my behalf, Jesus made atonement for me, and as my Great High Priest, he has secured a hope of future blessing that should be impacting the way I view every aspect of life — that is, if I have eyes to see. This hope becomes a lens, bringing focus to the mundane duties here at home and clarity to my motivation for any ministry activity.

Looking over my shoulder at the long skid leading to this pondering of the steadfast hope, I see in God’s invitation to lay hold of the hope set before me an implicit promise:

He is holding me in that hope.

This reassures me that even though I become distracted by other lesser hopes, my end of the rope is not left dangling. The security of my anchorage in Christ does not depend upon these weak hands or my shifting loyalties. Rather, my continual holding fast is a work of God.

How delightful that the Apostle Paul strengthens this reciprocal metaphor of holding on and being held:

“I press on that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me.” (Philippians 3:12)

Through Christ’s enabling, we take up the rope holding fast to the anchor which has been sunk deep into the soil at the bottom of the New Covenant. This (and only this) is a hope through which to view with peace the rolling billows of everyday life.