“Because they hated knowledge and did not choose the fear of the Lord, would have none of my counsel and despised all my reproof, therefore they shall eat the fruit of their way, and have their fill of their own devices” (Proverbs 1:29–31). “If your people won’t listen to the Bible, they won’t listen to you.” —Anonymous I’ve served in varying ministry capacities for a while now. It’s never been in the leading seat though. I’ve seen this play out from afar, watching my leaders navigate through peril and difficulty. Some were like seasoned sailors navigating stormy waters. Some capsized. Still others chugged along trying to get to greater health, greater strength, a more committed holiness, yet still a ways off. Of the healthier “captains” that I’ve served under at the healthier churches, they prioritized Scripture as their charted course and Jesus’ fame as their great North Star. I’ve sought to do that in my first year. Not perfectly executed, of course. First years are...
I could almost here seamen and their captain shouting to
each other, fighting alongside one another amid a terrifying storm. No coast guard
to call. No radios to scream out to before your ship capsized. The only people
that can save you from the waves are your comrades on your ship.
“Houd vast!” Hold tight! Make the ropes as tight as
possible!
Maybe you’ll make it through the night.
Storybooks are filled with great men fighting back against
the elements. Some coming back as conquerors. Others broken, beaten, or lost by
the tyrannical force of the waves. As terrifying as it would be to be lost at
sea with one’s best mates battling against swells and winds though, there is
yet a more dreadful, more malevolent force at work that has only lost once: The
cascading presence and power of sin.
The Gettys get it. “I could never keep my hold, through life’s
fearful path….” Against its power, there is no tightening the rope. No lifeboat.
No brothers to call upon as it pulls you under. And it will claim everyone in
its wake, dragging each life down under crushing darkness.
But there is a story about One who has conquered its waves.
Calmed its storms. Guides the way for weary travelers. Leads besides streams of
still waters.
Jesus of Nazareth.
“…We who have fled
for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before
us. We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters
into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone…having become a
high priest forever…”[1]
Hebrews 6 is largely about both Jesus’ otherworldly, awesome
nature and the challenge for Christians to continue in following Christ until
the end. There is a gem here though for the skeptical, the worrier, the weary
who lives in a broken, dark world. A world that threatens their very
life. The command for us is to hold fast (κρατῆσαι—AAI) to the hope given to us in
Christ. Our holding fast though hinges completely—entirely—upon our…
…Steadfast Anchor of the soul…
…Hope…
…Jesus…
…High Priest…
Weary friends and scared travelers, know this: He will hold
you fast. He must hold you fast. He’ll not let your soul be lost; his promises
shall last. Bought by him at such a cost, He will hold you fast.
When your grip loosens, his won’t. When the callouses on
your hands break open from fighting the waves, his won’t. When you fear your
life will be shipwrecked, trust him.
Thanks to the Gettys for their incredibly helpful
songs, like He Will Hold Me Fast.
When your grip loosens, his won’t." Thanks for reminding me that it's His promise to hold fast that is crucial. It's the fact that He refuses to let go that gives me strength.
When your grip loosens, his won’t." Thanks for reminding me that it's His promise to hold fast that is crucial. It's the fact that He refuses to let go that gives me strength.
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