Faith Always Points to Jesus - Hebrews 12: 1-3

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Epistle lesson from Hebrews 11 and 12, especially these words:  Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us,  looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

Across the hall from my study hangs the photos of the pastors of St. Paul’s. We had a similar wall at Zion in Mission Valley. Both here and at Zion, more than one parishioner referred to the wall as a wall of honor. I don’t know about that. Maybe I’m still too close to it. I’ll tell you, I have spent more than a little time in both places, looking at those faces and the time that those men served the parishes. It’s humbling to stand in the long shadows of those who served before me.  What I have come to realize, though, is that those photos aren’t so much about the men and their time of service, as it was the Lord working in and through, pointing God’s people to Jesus and the promises of God that are both already fulfilled and are yet to come.

Perhaps that’s why I was drawn to these words in Hebrews. I would encourage you to go back and re-read all of chapter 11 this afternoon – it won’t take you long, and it’ll help make the connection. If you do spend the time, you’ll see the refrain repeated over and over, “by faith.” Those two simple words are worth taking time to explore this morning.Across the hall from my study hangs the photos of the pastors of St. Paul’s. We had a similar wall at Zion in Mission Valley. Both here and at Zion, more than one parishioner referred to the wall as a wall of honor. I don’t know about that. Maybe I’m still too close to it. I’ll tell you, I have spent more than a little time in both places, looking at those faces and the time that those men served the parishes. It’s humbling to stand in the long shadows of those who served before me.  What I have come to realize, though, is that those photos aren’t so much about the men and their time of service, as it was the Lord working in and through, pointing God’s people to Jesus and the promises of God that are both already fulfilled and are yet to come.

Perhaps that’s why I was drawn to these words in Hebrews. I would encourage you to go back and re-read all of chapter 11 this afternoon – it won’t take you long, and it’ll help make the connection. If you do spend the time, you’ll see the refrain repeated over and over, “by faith.” Those two simple words are worth taking time to explore this morning. 

As Christians, we speak of faith in two aspects.

The first is faith as a noun, as in the Christian Faith. This is the faith as revealed in the Scriptures, confessed in the Creeds, and taught in our Lutheran Confessions. This is the faith that teaches we are saved by God’s grace through faith in Christ Jesus. You said it a few moments ago - “I believe in God the Father Almighty…and in Jesus Christ, His Only Son, our Lord…and in the Holy Spirit….” This is the sure and certain Christian faith that proclaims Christ’s resurrection as the Lord of Life and that those who believe in Him will also live eternally. Most importantly, the empty grave demonstrates the Father accepted the Son’s payment on our behalf and it is the prelude of our own resurrection when He returns. This faith is objective: it is steadfast and true and does not change like shifting shadows.

This is the faith that the writer of Hebrews speaks of through chapter eleven, the refrain echoing over and over, “By faith.” Maybe it would be helpful, here, to think of faith as promises, that The Faith is the promises of God which were to come. The Promise, begun in the Garden that God would provide a Seed to crush Satan’s head, continued to Abraham and on and on, generation to generation, the Promise, the Faith, remained constant. He lists the heroes of the faith: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, the story of the Exodus, Rahab, Gideon, Barach, Samson, Jepthah, David, Samuel, the prophets – the list is veritable catalog of who’s who among the Old Testament. By faith, these men – and Rahab, the single named woman – trusted the promises of God, even though they were unsure of what was ahead. For God's Old Testament, the Promise was ahead of them, in Messiah to come; for us as New Testament people, the Promise is both behind us, fulfilled in Christ, and yet to come in the Resurrection of all flesh.  

And then there is faith that is personal, a Christian’s trusting and believing, as in “I have faith.” e are enabled to speak of my faith and say, “I believe these sure and certain promises of God” only by the power of the Holy Spirit working through Water and Word. Spirit-given faith, even the size of a mustard seed, is saving faith because it trusts Christ alone as the source of our salvation. Where the Bible and the Creeds proclaim, “This is the Christian faith,” subjective faith says, “Amen,” and makes it personal. A long time ago in my confirmation class, Pastor Rossow taught us to think while making the sign of the cross, “I know, I believe + I trust, I rely.” To the Creeds, faith says “I believe that Jesus Christ, true God, begotten of the Father from eternity, also true man, born of the Virgin Mary, is my Lord. Who has redeemed me, a lost and condemned creature, purchased and won me from all sins, from death, and from the power of the devil; not with gold or silver, but with His holy, precious blood and his innocent suffering and death, that I may be His own and live under Him in His kingdom…” This faith is personal, but it is always a gift of God to His children. It also ebbs and flows, sometimes it is a hot, roaring fire, sometimes it isn’t much more than a smoldering wick, but it is always grounded in the sure and certain faithfulness of Jesus. This faith takes the objective faith, we are saved by grace through faith, and in that personal, subjective believing, Christ’s faithfulness becomes ours.  

We speak of faith these ways, and they are both true and both are good. Subjective faith – my faith, your faith, our faith – clings to the objective faith – the solid truth, the Promise of the Scripture - which always rests in Christ Jesus.

That’s the definition of faith, remember, “the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things unseen,” (11:1). When the writer says “hoped for,” don’t think of this like we use hope so often: “I hope I win the lottery,” or “I hope the electric bill isn’t so high next month.” Not much of hope there is it? Often, hope is rather wishy-washy; to use the expression, we don’t hold our breath with this kind of hope. Christian hope is certain; it is expectant; it is the “amen” that allows us to cling to the unseen, yet-to-be-fulfilled promises of God.

But, I suspect that sometimes, and I think this is truer in our generation today than in previous generations, I suspect sometimes we look at those heroes of old and we stand in awe of them, for the greatness of faith that enabled them, by faith, to cling to the faith, those unseen-yet-certain promises of God. That expectant, trusting, confident hope allowed these heroes of the faith to cling to His Word, even when it seemed to contradict itself – like Abraham being told to sacrifice the very son through whom the promises are to be fulfilled – or when it seemed to make no sense – like march around Jericho while carrying torches and shouting.

And, to be very honest, there is part of us that is jealous. Yes, jealous, because in each of those people, God worked remarkable things, giving them extra-ordinary faith to trust His promises against extra-ordinary moments. Well, I say, “us,” but maybe I should just say “me.” There is part of me that is jealous. See, faith is not my spiritual gift. O, I know The Faith. I trust Jesus is my Savior. I trust that in Christ, my sins are paid in full. I trust that baptized into His name, I have the promised assurance of salvation into eternity. I have faith in these Second and Third Article gifts of God. But when it comes to living the faith, when life is hard, and it narrows down, that subjective daily faithfulness under the cross of Jesus, I struggle. I struggle  with First Article gifts, daily bread gifts, and I struggle with the word “enough.” I’m not proud of that fact. In fact, I even struggle with knowing that about myself.

Perhaps you do, too – especially when life hits hard, and there is more uncertainty than certainty, and your prayers seem unanswered, and your hope, that sure, confident hope that we are called to have as Christians, is more like a question mark than an exclamation point.

So, I take great comfort in these words from chapter 12. These first three verses of chapter 12 take the wow of the catalog of the heroes of the faith and deposits you firmly, terra firma, at the cross of Jesus.

First, you are not alone. Those heroes, that cloud of witnesses, surrounds you at the cross. They know what it is to live under the cross, this side of heaven, with promises – The Faith - spoken by God, having to look to those promises with eyes of faith, seeing what is ahead, not yet seeing what is in store in their lifetime. Those witnesses share the same faith, the “I believe,” even when those promises seemed impossible. Centuries before Christ was conceived in Mary’s womb, they believed this would happen because it was God’s promise – spoken, yet unseen; pledged, yet unfulfilled. 

It wasn’t their own doing, by their own power that they believed the promises. Jesus is both the author of the faith and the finisher of the faith. He sends His Spirit to His People, to His Church, calling, gathering, enlightening, enabling the child of God to believe the promises, to declare, “I believe,” even if having to add, “help my unbelief.” You know, there is a vast difference between “I am struggling to believe” and “I refuse to believe.” He has great sadness for the latter who reject Him; He has great mercy and compassion for the former.

We are not called to have perfect faith. We are called to have faith in the One whose perfect faith sent Him to the cross, who perfectly believed the Promise, even when it seemed impossible. “Father, if possible, take this cup from me; nevertheless, not my will, but yours be done.” In the silence of the cross, the damnable weight of the world’s doubts and lack of faith pressing down upon Him, His perfect faith clung to the Father’s mercy. In the silence of the cross, the Father’s absence making it hell on earth, Jesus still believed the Father’s will was being done. And, when He breathed His last, He commended Himself to His silent Father’s mercy.

Christ’s perfect faith-filled and faithful action perfectly satisfied the Father’s plan of salvation, the promise complete. With His resurrection, the Church knows that The Faith – the Promise – is believable, it is trustworthy, it is most certainly true. So, the Church proclaims The Faith, we as God’s people live The Faith with Easter joy and hope.

Earlier, I said “Life is hard and life narrows down.”  I took that line from a devotion written by Rev. Arnold Kuntz. The rest of the quote is this, "Life narrows down, and crisis comes. And suddenly only one thing matters, and there, in the narrow place, stands Jesus." (Devotions for the Chronologically Gifted, St. Louis: CPH, © 1999; p. 46)

That is the faith that you live. That is the faith you believe and confess. That is the faith that you share with each other. That is the faith that enables you to say, we don’t know how today will go, let alone tomorrow, but we trust the promises of God, which are both now and not yet in Christ Jesus.