…And others had trial of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea,
moreover of bonds and imprisonment: They
were stoned, they were sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain with the sword:
they wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins; being destitute, afflicted,
tormented; (Of whom the world was not worthy:) they
wandered in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth. Hebrews 11:36-38
I love these verses.
I’ve probably read them a million times. Every time I do, I want to stand up
and shout them…getting even louder with “Of whom the world was not worthy!”
Perhaps it’s the verses leading up to these that make me excited, listing the
exploits of the Old Testament heroes as if they were real-life Marvel
characters (only way better). Then you come to the price they paid for the
amazing things God called them to do and it’s…well, it’s astounding. Because
the cost of true heroism is high and costly. And these men and women weren’t
Spiderman or Captain America who lived to fight another day. Most of them died.
Horribly. And all for Christ.
Every month I read
the Voices of the Martyrs magazine and I wonder: Could I pay that cost for my
faith? Even more, could I sacrifice my kids to pay that cost for my faith? It’s
a question I can’t answer. I can hope I will answer as the persecuted are
answering every day, but I really don’t know. And often it makes me feel sad.
Because it makes my faith seem small. And it certainly doesn’t put me in the
same class as the heroes of Hebrews 11. No where close. Or does it?
Last Sunday, we were
studying Hebrews 11 in Sunday School. For the first time, versus 39 and 40
really stood out:
And these all, having obtained a good report through faith,
received not the promise: God having provided some better thing for us, that
they without us should not be made perfect.
Wait a minute. I read
it again. And then again. And probably two or three more times as I pondered
that little clause, “that they without us”. Without us? Did he mean me? That
these amazing heroes of the faith have yet to obtain their full, glorious
reward because it won’t be complete until…me?
Not me specifically, of course. I’m
not the cornerstone of the whole building, but the whole building which sets
upon the Cornerstone isn’t complete until every stone is set. And, as one of
God’s elect children, I am one of the stones. Set in the same building as Abel,
David, Moses, Rahab and every other saint whose exploits are worth shouting
from the mountaintop. I will share their reward. Me.
It’s a humbling
thought…but it also gives me courage.
