Wilderness Wanderings

By faith Isaac blessed Jacob and Esau in regard to their future. By faith Jacob, when he was dying, blessed each of Joseph's sons, and worshiped as he leaned on the top of his staff. By faith Joseph, when his end was near, spoke about the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt and gave instructions concerning the burial of his bones. (Hebrews 11:20-22)

I am acutely aware at the moment of something I've observed quite often in the lives of others: it is hard to end well. It is hard to let go. And no one ever has as much control as they might hope over the circumstances that bring the end they must face.

There are all sorts of endings we must face, and it begins quite early on. The end of diapers as we graduate to being fully potty-trained. The ends of school years, eventually graduating from grade 8, then grade 12, then perhaps other forms of schooling after that. The end of living at home. The end of relationships. The end of single life. The end of jobs, houses, and cities as moves fling us to and fro through life's middle-years. Eventually we come to the end of someone's life: a mother, father, sibling, friend. We come to retirement. We come to an empty nest, the end of our family home, we downsize. Eventually we come to the end of driving, independent living, good and dependable health. Until eventually we come to the end of our own life.

The early parts of life teach us that life is a journey of growing up and growing into—a journey of gaining and earning friends, skill, strength, knowledge, wealth, influence, and control. But that often causes us to miss the countermovement at work underneath in the form of all these endings and moments of letting go. It is similar to the waves on an ocean that come in quite visibly on the surface, bringing energy, sound, and a living quality of vitality to the experience. But what we cannot see is what lies underneath—the undertow, the countermovement, the waves that go back out and keep the sea from swallowing up the land. These waves underneath are the movement of release and erosion: the movement that can suck you under, pull you to your end, claim your life.

So it is. Our life rolls in toward the shore, cresting and breaking at any number of high points with sound and flourish. Underneath the surface, our life continues to be struck by the undertow in the form of endings and loses—but never enough to change our direction until that eventual moment when we reach the shore. Our life peaks, and the movement that dominates our journey is reversed. We then become the waves underneath, retreating from the shore. We interact with the waves sill moving in—celebrating their journey forward of growing up and growing into. But our path is a different one now—a journey marked mostly by endings.

The Christian life is an invitation to pay our first attention to the countermovement of undertow, loss, and letting go, rather than to the movement of gaining and earning. Jesus shows and tells us that we must die before we can live. It is only the one who loses their life who truly finds it.

By faith: Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph all did this. They did not learn these lessons quickly or early—especially in Jacob's case—but they did learn them and so were able to end well. They learned to let go and let God even while they lived so that when their end finally came, they did not meet it with bitterness, resentment, cynicism, or defeat. They met it with grace—with words of blessing on their lips for those who would take over their place. They met their end with faith—a faith that no matter what they had gained or lost—God would provide a future and a salvation yet for those who came after.

Let us meet all our endings in this same faith in the God who secures the future and invites us to end with blessing on our lips.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever he may send you.

May he guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm.

May he bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders he has shown you.

May he bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.

By faith Abraham, when God tested him, offered Isaac as a sacrifice. He who had embraced the promises was about to sacrifice his one and only son, even though God had said to him, "It is through Isaac that your offspring will be reckoned." Abraham reasoned that God could even raise the dead, and so in a manner of speaking he did receive Isaac back from death" (Hebrews 11:17-19).

In our ears, the story of God's command to offer Isaac as a sacrifice is laced with ethical problems. How could God ask this? There's much in this story, told in Genesis 22, that will leave any thoughtful reader with questions, or that seems downright unspeakable. But the spare, skillful narrative points the way to its beating heart.

The story is structured in three cycles. Three times, there's a summons to Abraham - first by God, then by Isaac, and then by the angel of God. Three times, Abraham's tender answer: "Here I am" (Genesis 22:1, 7, 11). Three times, a response. And those three cycles have Abraham's trembling reassurance to Isaac at their rhetorical center: "God himself will provide" - literally, "God himself will see to it."

This is what the author of Hebrews draws to our attention. Isaac was the child of promise. Through him, the promise to bless the world, in fact, the promise to repair this sin-polluted creation, that promise would be fulfilled through Isaac. It was God's word, his promise. Now Abraham is commanded to sacrifice him. A test of faith indeed. God's promise and God's command are diametrically opposed to each other.

Abraham is now a man of faith. This is God's problem to solve, not his. So, he goes to the Mount with his son. When Isaac askes, "Where is the lamb?" Abraham simple responds, "God himself will provide." After God provides a ram for the sacrifice, Abraham names that mountain: Jehovah Jireh, "The LORD will provide."

The church father, John Chrysostom noted that Genesis 22 is a "sketch ahead of time in shadow" for how God would one day provide for the putting right of God's whole world, once and for all. I think he was right. God said to Abraham, "Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love" (Genesis 22:2). Later, at Jesus' baptism, God speaks again saying, "This is my Son, whom I love" (Matthew 4:17). Eerily similar words – a sketch ahead of time in shadow.

This dark story, in the end, foreshadows another journey taken untold centuries later. Jesus of Nazareth - Son of Abraham, and Son of God - would walk into that same mountain range, with wood on his back, and make the dreadful three-day journey into death. These are the lengths to which the divine Love would go for the sake of the world.

Abraham's son was spared death. But God did not spare his own son. Isaac knew not what lay ahead. Jesus did. He willingly took up his wood; he went willingly to the altar of the cross; he willingly offered himself unto death. But death could not hold him. Abraham was right – God can and will raise the dead.

Can we trust God in the face of a bleak future? Is God anywhere to be found when we're walking in darkness? Is God at all present in the horrors of human life? The empty cross and the empty tomb are the answer. The light has pierced the darkness. The promise of God is that someday, there will only be light, nor more darkness. With faith in that promise, we walk hopefully in the dark of our Mount Moriah.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them. (Hebrews 11:13-16)

They did not receive the things promised. But they believed anyway.

There are some moments in our lives when we feel like everything is going right. Life is good, our family is good, work is good, and the sun is shining. It is good to feel like we're living our best life. And sometimes we do feel that way.

But there are plenty of other times when the ground feels to have slipped out from beneath our feet. Something or someone in our home, work, or school context feels threatening. Our health is compromised. Someone we have a relationship with leaves or abandons us.

In those moments, we are reminded of how few and fleeting are the threads that hold up our security and sense of well being.

What we often fail to recognize however, is that this is also the proper context in which to really understand the meaning of our faith—because it is the truest sense we ever get of our real situation. We've always lived precariously. Nothing has ever been guaranteed. Death, suffering, and hardship are far more often the norm in human history than peace, order, and good government or life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. No one fully receives all the things promised until we arrive at life's end or Christ's return.

Citizenship in a stable, peaceful, and prosperous country (which both Canada and the United States are, despite what any politician might say to the contrary) can lull us away from the admission of Hebrews that in fact, we are all foreigners and strangers on earth. If our country on earth is pretty good—why would we look for a better country—a heavenly one?

So in those moments of feeling unsettled—say, when a pastor leaves, or a death occurs, or some other unsettling anxiety sweeps through your life—take it as an opportunity to live by faith and not by sight. Remember and believe that it is God who has promised us life and a future: not our RRSP, our children, our legacy, our government, or our or next vacation. Remember that our lives are lived in trust in God, and that our eyes ought always to be straining just beyond what we are given, to see Jesus who beckons us onward until we arrive finally and fully at our home with him. Then what we see now only as a poor reflection will be replaced with seeing our God, face to face. Then we shall know fully, even as we are fully known. Then only the good things like faith, hope, and love will remain. The greatest of which, is God's own love. This is what our lives finally rest upon.

Because God loves us, he "is not ashamed to be called [our] God, for he has prepared a city for [us]." A home, with him.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever he may send you.

May he guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm.

May he bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders he has shown you.

May he bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.

By faith, with Sarah's involvement, he received power of procreation, even though he was too old, because he considered him faithful who had promised. Therefore, from one person, and this one as good as dead, descendants were born, "as many as the stars of heaven and as the innumerable grains of sand by the seashore" (Hebrews 11:11-12).

The Heidelberg Catechism defines true faith as "not only a knowledge and conviction that everything God reveals in his Word is true; it is also a deep-rooted assurance, created in me by the Holy Spirit through the gospel, that, out of sheer grace earned for us by Christ, not only others, but I too, have had my sins forgiven, have been made forever right with God, and have been granted salvation" (A 21).

The author of Hebrews would probably not disagree with this definition. However, I suggest, recognizing that I am skating on thin ice, that according to Hebrews 11, more should be added to this confessional definition.

Hebrews 11 faith often involves a physical response to God. It involves action taken in response to the unseen God and his promises. Faith is not merely static belief or cognitive assent. It spurs us to act in accordance with God's truth. There is a boldness to faith that caused Noah to build an Ark, Abraham to leave home and Moses' parents to hide their son. This courage is rooted in the faith that, in the end, God will come through; he will keep his promises.

The folks mentioned here stepped forward with eyebrow-raising tenacity and confidence. There was no perceptible reason for doing so, except that God had spoken. God revealed himself, and that was reason enough to act. Their faith caused them to behave in certain ways, in ways expectant of promises fulfilled.

Along with the promise of a new homeland, God promised Abraham children. Well, there was only one thing to do with that promise. But this promise tested Abraham's faith severally. He got very old, and so did Sarah; well beyond childbearing age. God continued to promise, and Abraham kept working on his faith. Finally, he was enabled to become a father because he believed God.

Abraham, an old man, and Sarah, his wife, as good as dead, became parents, trusting in the faithfulness of God. We are challenged to take our eyes off the obvious—in this case the inability of old people to become pregnant—and to focus on the faithful God who keeps his promises.

There is more hidden in this promise. The number of Abraham and Sarah's descendants would continue to expand until their children included not just those of their blood line, but all those with their kind of faith. Paul said it best, "Understand, then, that those who have faith are children of Abraham" (Galatians 3:7).

As the Catechism put it, true faith "is also a deep-rooted assurance, created in me by the Holy Spirit through the gospel, that, out of sheer grace earned for us by Christ, not only others, but I too, have had my sins forgiven, have been made forever right with God, and have been granted salvation." All those with this faith are children of Abraham and recipients of the promises God made to him.

The question remains, how will that faith effect the way that we live?

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going. By faith he made his home in the promised land like a stranger in a foreign country; he lived in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God. (Hebrews 11:8-10)

Without exaggerating too much, this more or less feels like my life right now—except for the "inheritance" part—as we prepare to follow the call to Orillia. "He obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going… like a stranger in a foreign country…"

Of course there is also something universal in the story of Abraham. It is not just a story for pilgrims who happen to be moving house, but for all Christians who journey toward God and the promises he has set before us in Jesus. It is a lifelong journey—the journey of discipleship.

It is a journey marked by not knowing entirely where we are going. What will we become when we follow Jesus? What does God call us to do with the few days and limited resources in our possession? Who will we encounter and befriend along the way?

We often fear that God will make us do the opposite of what we want—that if we happen to make eye contact with the Almighty and get pressed into his call, he'll ship us off to some far-flung continent to suffer deplorable conditions as a missionary or something. It happened to Abraham, after all (to Femke and I too!). But this notion misunderstands something about our God.

Does he sometimes call us to do hard things? Sure. But God just as often works with our desires as against them—indeed the journey of the Christian life is a journey of purifying and refining our desires. God placed desires in the human heart so that we might desire him and his gifts. When lived well—the journey of our Christian lives bends our desires increasingly toward God to the point where we may begin to trust those desires to lead us home.

In the example of Abraham—he made his home in the promised land, but despite arriving in this good place of God's calling, the promised land always pointed beyond itself to "the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God." So Abraham lived always as a stranger in a foreign country. Not because he had no claim on the land on which he lived—but because his true home was with God.

This is perhaps a strange thing to wrap our heads around—but its true for us as well. Whether one rents, tents, or owns a house and cottage—we too are naught but strangers in a foreign country. Why? Because our true home is not here at all—but with God in Christ. He is the one to whom we belong. Home is the place of rest we will know with him when this earth and its heavens are made new and we see him at last as he is: face to face.

Until then: we journey forward in faith, trusting that the one who made the promise is faithful and will provide everything needful until at long last he brings us home.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever he may send you.

May he guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm.

May he bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders he has shown you.

May he bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.

A Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text 2 Samuel 3. Dive In discussion questions are below for further reflection!

To see this sermon in the context of the worship service it comes from, find it here on YouTube. Or, head to our website to connect with the worshiping community of Immanuel CRC: immanuelministries.ca

1. Spiritual ECGs usually happen through the discipline of confessing sin. How regularly do you take time for this? Should you take more time for it?
2. How well do you read the Word of God? Once you have read it, what do you do with it? Consider James 1:23-25. Choose one of the gospel's accounts of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane and meditate on this story.
3. When you pray, what it your goal? Is it an act of submission to God. Consider 1 Peter 5:6-7 – let your praying be shaped by these words.
4. Jesus calls us to be peacemakers. How well do you live this out? Or are you more like Joab? To be shaped by peace we must go to the cross of Jesus. As you reflect on Ephesians 2:11-22, hear Jesus speaking his words to you, "My peace I give you" (John 14:27).
5. What signs of weakness are given in this chapter? Jesus does perfectly what David only did imperfectly. Choose to follow him.

"Noah had faith. So, he built an ark to save his family. He built it because of his great respect for God. God had warned him about things that could not yet be seen. Because of his faith Noah showed the world that it was guilty. Because of his faith he was considered right with God" (Hebrews 11:7).

Noah had faith. What does faith mean? It can be understood as 'faith equals creed'. So, if we believe everything professed in the Apostle's Creed, then we have faith. Years ago, the Christian Reformed Church put a lot of emphasis on the Heidelberg Catechism; we might have been left with the impression that if we had it memorized than had sufficient faith to join the church. The Bible does at times refer to faith as a set of beliefs. For example, check out 1 Timothy 4:6 and Jude 3.

But generally, the idea of faith implies something much more dynamic and active: a life lived in a trusting relationship with God. This active faith certainly rests on sound teaching, but it cannot be summed up by intellectual assent. This is James' point in much of his letter which he sums up with, "As the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without deeds is dead" (2:26). And Paul agrees, writing in Galatians 5:6, "The only things that counts is faith expressing itself through love".

And of course, the author of Hebrews, fully concurs. In our text, we learn that God, who is unseen, warned Noah that a flood, a form of judgement on evil, was coming. And so, Noah built an ark far away from any water. It is often assumed that it took Noah about 100 years to build the ark, but we have no evidence for that. And that is not the most important matter. We ought to note Noah's 'holy fear' or 'great respect' for God. He paid close and reverent attention to God's instruction. When God spoke, Noah believed and built an ark, even though he could not see the waters. This is faith. The hymn writer put it like this, "there is no other way to be happy in Jesus but to trust and obey."

But there is more. As he built the ark, his faith stood in sharp contrast to the unbelief of those around him. They had to choose whether to believe God's word. If they believed, they would need to join Noah in building the ark. It is still true today: Christian obedience has powerful evangelistic value. People are influenced not only by what we say to them, but by the way we respond to what God says to us.

Good examples will either lead unbelievers to faith or condemn them. There is something very convincing in a life of holiness and regard to God; it convicts people's conscience calling them to choose for or against Jesus. This is the best way the people of God can confront unblievers; not by harsh and condemnatory language, but by a holy exemplary conversation and deeds arising from our faith.

The story of Noah brings us to the waters of baptism which speak of both judgement and salvation. A baptism prayer puts it this way, "In the time of Noah, you destroyed evil in the water of the flood; and by your saving ark, you gave a new beginning". These waters teach us that evil, even our evil, must be washed away in the blood of Christ. Faith that believes in the cleansing blood of Christ is faith that also pursues godly living (Titus 2:11-14).

As God was patient in the days of Noah, he remains patient today. His judgement is not quick in coming. "[God] is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance" (2 Peter 3:9). Let us live by this faith.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

By faith Enoch was taken from this life, so that he did not experience death: "He could not be found, because God had taken him away." For before he was taken, he was commended as one who pleased God. And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him. (Hebrews 11:5-6)

Enoch is someone we know next to nothing about. His life is covered in a couple short verses in Genesis. However, we do know a few things. In Genesis 5, he is listed as the 7th individual in a genealogy of 10 people that ends with Noah. 7 and 10 are important numbers in Hebrew reckoning: both conveying a sense of "completeness." 7 gaining its importance from the 7 days of God's completed Creation and 10 from the number of commandments. Genealogies are often elongated or contracted to ensure that the places of honour of the 7th and 10th spots are given to significant individuals. So it is with Enoch and Noah who both wind up in our list here in Hebrews 11.

Enoch is described in Genesis 5 as one who "walked with God; then he was no more, because God took him away." This scant bit of information plus the allusion to Enoch being the only person besides Elijah who did not taste death led to all sorts of speculation and superstitions about Enoch by the time the book of Hebrews was written. The Book of Enoch (not written by Enoch, but a whole tradition of made-up stories about him) was already old and well known by this point.

Yet the writer of Hebrews does not engage in wild fantasies about the Nephilim, angels, watchers, and the like (as all this other Jewish superstition around Enoch did). Instead, the writer of Hebrews drags the story of Enoch from other-worldly fantasy and grounds it back in everyday, ordinary faith of the sort Pastor Michael talked about yesterday.

The story of Enoch is rather simple according to Hebrews: Enoch pleased God. Without faith, this is impossible. Therefore Enoch had faith. Nothing more, nothing less.

But we can still learn something from Enoch, says the author: we can take up this same simple faith of just the sort we've been talking about here so far. Faith believes that an invisible God really does exist, and not only that he exists, but also that he acts in the affairs of human history, "rewarding those who earnestly seek him." The writer of Hebrews does not mean rewards like nice jobs, houses, and boats, nor is he necessarily talking about eternal life. In Enoch's case, the reward was not having to face death and entering more fully into God's presence.

Most of us will probably still have to face death, but if we look back to what the writer might mean by God's rewards—we see it does indeed look a lot like that second thing: entering more fully into God's presence. God's reward according to Hebrews is "rest." The promise is that we might enter God's rest. It is a place of mercy, peace, and a permanent 7th-day Sabbath rest with God. If you remember, Enoch is the representative of this 7th day Sabbath rest as the holder of that 7th spot in the Genesis genealogy.

Amid all our toil and cares in this world—this sort of rest in the presence of God is very much what we hope for. Rest from our labours. Rest from our misery and suffering. Rest from our fears. Faith—like the faith of Enoch—is confidence in just that sort of thing: "confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see." A place of rest in God's presence for each of us who earnestly seek God in faith.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever he may send you.

May he guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm.

May he bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders he has shown you.

May he bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.

"By faith Abel brought God a better offering than Cain did. By faith he was commended as righteous, when God spoke well of his offerings. And by faith Abel still speaks, even though he is dead" (Hebrews 11:4).

The story of the brothers, Cain and Able referred to here, is told in Genesis 4. Here, as in Genesis, the details are stark and sparse. Our curious minds want more details; we want more information on the difference between the two offerings. Why was Able's offering better than Cain's? Over the centuries, proposals have been offered; the most common that Able offered blood, pointing forward to Christ.

But the sparse details should cause us to focus on what is here, not on curiosity satisfaction. What we know is that Able had faith and, according to Genesis, that he brought an offering from the firstborn of his flock. We also know that God counselled Cain, "Do what is right and then you will be accepted" (4:7).

The end of Hebrews 10 helps our understanding. There, God is quoted, "But my righteous one will live by faith. And I take no pleasure in the one who shrinks back" (10:38). The reference here is to the Israelites who, hearing of the size of those who lived in the Promised Land, doubted that God could give it to them. They shrank back trying to return to Egypt. But they did not make it, dying in the wilderness. Faith says, God can do this and acts accordingly.

Able leads the way in faith, as such, he still speaks today. He was declared righteous because of his faith, not his actions. Yet, his faith propelled him to do what was right. His righteous acts were not an effort to grain credit with God, rather, they arose out of his faith in God's Word. It says in Genesis that Able gave of his firstfruits, implying a trust that God would provide enough for tomorrow.

Sometimes, we are inclined to limit faith to the big occasions in life, like when we are invited to help with a new church plant, or go on a mission trip, or give up a lucrative income to go into church work. Certainly, these things take faith. But the more common and more frequent acts of faith come in an ordinary day: putting God first, using his name respectfully, carving out time for rest and spiritual renewal, honouring those in authority, refusing to harm other people with word or action, expressing our sexuality as God intended, respecting other people's property, speaking the truth, and refusing to covet other people's stuff.

These are not easy things to do, as they are contrary to the way that many folks live. Yet, believers follow them because they are God's word and will for this world. With them, we lay up treasure in heaven. The warnings against the way of Cain echo down through the ages, "The Lord hates the sacrifice of sinful people. But the prayers of honest people please him" (Proverbs 15:8). "Seek good not evil, that you may live…I hate, I despise your religious festivals…Away with the noise of your songs! But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!" (Amos 5:14,21,23,24).

The danger is always that we focus on the actions: do enough good things and God will be happy. But God sees and tests the heart. Able believed in God's invisible Word and lived accordingly. He trusted God; as a result, he did what was right. It was his faith for which he was commended. His faith in God, led his life. Let the Holy Spirit test your motivations. Ask the Spirit to deepen your faith.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for. By faith we understand that the universe was formed at God's command, so that what is seen was not made out of what was visible. (Hebrews 11:1-3)

Maybe you've not noticed it, but these opening three verses of Hebrews 11 run almost directly parallel to the opening verses of the book. Let me give them to you, from Hebrews 1:1-2:

In the past God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom also he made the universe.

Faith is what the ancient ancestors were commended for says Hebrews 11. Hebrews 1 says that their faith arose from the fact that God himself spoke to them at many times and in various ways. And now Hebrews 11 will tell us how God not only gives the word that speaks faith into being, but also how God commends that faith—how it pleases him. But first, the writer wishes to communicate something about the invisible nature of faith.

Out of the invisible, God speaks. Visible acts of faith result wherever God's Creation responds to his word, through the creation itself and through the lives of the ancients who've gone before us. But the place where that faith anchors itself is in the still-invisible future sustained by nothing more than God's word.

We make a lot out of what we can see. The question always being: what have you produced, what have you earned, what you have made? What do you have to show for yourself?

It is difficult to believe therefore that all of reality is actually created out of words—not out of what is seen, but out of what is heard. This is the essence of Jesus as the "word-made-flesh." The invisible nature of sound waves turns into a visible reality—a person, in the flesh, born into our world. It was just the self-same thing that God did at the dawn of time through Jesus. He spoke an invisible word that generated rock and sea, tree and sky, stars and animals, even you and me. A word that became flesh.

This is the nature of faith: do you believe that nothing but God's word can create such concrete realities as the ground under your feet? It happened twice before you know—at Creation and redemption. In just this way God has commended himself to us and to our five senses. And he has promised more. A creation re-made, sin and death destroyed, an eternity of life to the full in a visible relationship, face to face with our God.

Do you believe that nothing but God's word can create all this in a way that's as concrete to you as the ground under your feet? That kind of faith is what the ancients were commended for, and the kind of faith that we are invited to.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever he may send you.

May he guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm.

May he bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders he has shown you.

May he bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.