A Sigh of Relief
Hebrews 4:12-16
Indeed, the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And before him no creature is hidden, but all are naked and laid bare to the eyes of the one to whom we must render an account.
Since, then, we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast to our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.
Today we have God’s Word meeting our word, thanks to Jesus. We have God’s all-powerful, heart-piercing truths that meet our small prayers. We have Jesus taking away our shame and fear before God by simply being human.
Last week we talked about the fact that it’s Jesus’s humanity that connects us to God and that makes God the perfect God for humankind… because God gave us a savior who has experienced every aspect of, and therefore understands the human condition. We are never alone in any of our feelings, whether they be grief and fear or joy and celebration, because Jesus has experienced it all with and for us.
And now the author of Hebrews is expanding on this. He’s talking about the fact that Jesus is the perfect interlocuter between our works and prayers and God’s word and love. Without Jesus, we feel the word of God is overwhelming. We feel naked in front of it, all too vulnerable. But when we have a savior who has experienced what we have, we can take a sigh of relief. We can know that there is an understanding that exists now— that there is grace now, because Jesus knows all too well the joys and sorrows of being human.
You know that feeling of relief you get when you’re maybe in a new place, you’re meeting new people for the first time, and you connect with someone over something? There’s that tension in the room, “what if these people don’t like me,” “what if we have nothing to talk about?” and then you realize you both have similar familial or cultural background and you realize, ‘oh this person gets me.’
A couple years ago when I lost my first pregnancy in such a unique and especially heartbreaking way, I found solace in a private online group called “Ending a Wanted Pregnancy.” I don’t know what I would have done without that group. It was a group of people from around the world who had been through the same thing I was going through—had gotten horrible news on an ultrasound; had raged and bargained and grieved. When different feelings about my experience would come up, months, even years later, I would always, and will always have a place to express it, where I knew people would understand. And then a few women from that group who had gotten pregnant around the same time that I became pregnant with Frankie started a little group chat. There are five us in that chat. We’re scattered across the country, one is in Europe. We would check in with each other through our ultrasounds and milestones—compare our morning sickness, compare our very unique anxieties. We all went on to have healthy babies. And we’re still in touch. We may never meet in person, and the messages are less frequent now, but every once in a while one of us will send a message or a picture or will check in. There’s a bond there that can’t be broken because of what we went through, first separately, and then together, even from a distance. There’s an openness in that group—in the group chat and the Facebook group that is so tragically unique, but entirely crucial to the small percentage of women who have gone through what we have. That knowledge that you’re not alone is so validating and empowering, and seeing people who have gone on to either be at peace with not being pregnant again, or have gone on to have a healthy and beloved baby, was inspiring.
Now, that feeling of relief and solidarity, it doesn’t just have to come from a deep or tragic experience. We can find all kinds of connections with people— maybe you find one someone you’re talking to is also an only child; or the youngest, oldest, or middle, and you’ve had similar experiences in your family that you can laugh or vent about; maybe you’ve discovered you’re both fans of the same out-of-state sports team—I know I always breathed a sigh of relief when I met a fellow Patriots fan when I lived in Eagles country.
Remember, Hebrews like so many books in the New Testament was written to encourage frustrated and impatient Jesus-followers. It was written to remind the author’s audience of what’s important—and in this case, what’s important to remember is that we have a God who is able “to sympathize with our weaknesses, [and] who in every respect has been tested as we are…” as it’s written in verse 15, and so we shouldn’t be shy about what we say to God; we shouldn’t be shy about the fact that we are “laid bare” to the eyes of God—because we have Jesus as that holy connection between us and God. We have a God who has experienced the human condition, has experienced our anger and our joy, our heartbreak and our love. With Jesus we always have someone in our corner with whom we can have that incredible feeling of relief—“oh, this person gets me.” Jesus truly understands us. And he, in turn, commands us to work to understand each other.
The goal is that we bring about the world in which we all understand each other— not that we should all suffer in the same ways. God sacrificed God’s only child in order that we might learn from that suffering and that sacrifice— in order that we might realize that we should be working for a world in which no one should suffer ever again. And that means we have to do the difficult work of really putting ourselves in other people’s shoes. We need to work to practice empathy, to understand where others might be coming from. And that’s hard work in a country as divided as ours. No matter what side of the aisle you’re on, it’s infuriating to read the news these days, isn’t it? In my head I’m constantly thinking, “oh my God, those people don’t get it.” And maybe they don’t. But, admittedly, I’m also having hard time practicing compassion myself and trying to get them. If we’re going to create the type of world that we’re called to create, we need to find common ground. We need to figure out how to connect, the way Jesus connects us to God.
And if we’re meant to imitate Jesus, to do our best to act as Jesus acted, then we not only have to work to connect with other people we may not always agree with; but we also have to try to be that connection between others. We have to work to bring others together. And I think we do that in this congregation. People from all different walks of life come through these doors, and we greet them, we introduce them to others, and we make sure they feel comfortable, safe, and at home. We make sure we’ve created a space here in which not only can they open up to me, but to anyone in this congregation. We have to act as that point of connection here on earth. We have to be brave and bold by being approachable and open, by allowing our souls to be pierced by the love of God. That, I believe, is part of our duty; that’s how we bring people together and create a safe and loving community.
Now Church— election season is here. I’m personally, like a lot of people, sort of mentally checked out of the whole process. I mean, I’m going to vote, I know who I’m voting for; but the discourse and the media circus is all just so toxic and anxiety-inducing, it’s just too stressful to follow closely, to constantly worry about. And I know I’m not the only one who feels this way. But when we’re thinking of these connections… of Jesus being that perfect connection to God, helping us feel comfortable being open and vulnerable, allowing us to bold and unafraid to admit our faults and yell our joys, because he has experienced and fully understands our faults and our joys, I think we can use this, use this integral part of our faith, to help inform our choices when we vote—and not just this general election, but every time. When we vote, we can think of the people on the ballot who we believe really understand us… or at least understand us the best of any of the options. We can use this to think about which of the candidates, whether it’s for president, senator, congress, or the selectboard, who would welcome us in being bold and passionate in our petitions, our demands, and our questions. We want the people representing us to really be able to understand and empathize with our plights and our worries.
The author of Hebrews was writing at a time when these new Jesus-followers needed reassurance and encouragement. They needed to be reminded that even in their frustration and impatience; in their worries and their anxieties, they were not alone. They would never be alone because they had a savior who was without sin, and yet could sympathize with our sins—with our weaknesses, with our missteps. We have a savior who shows us grace because he wholly understands us. And even if we’re still waiting for that second coming, for that new world, we will always have that connection to God that will never be lost thanks to Jesus’ solidarity with us.
Maybe we’re all relatively content and at peace with our Christian beliefs, especially in a time and in a country in which Christians are no longer persecuted… but are we content in the state of this country? Are we content with the constant division and uncertainty and rage? I would venture to guess the majority are not. We are in dire need of some encouragement and some reassurance. We are in dire need of some hope right now, and some peace. And so we need to use our faith to inform our choices in November. We need to use our faith inform our choices in life, in general. We need to use our faith to work for a world in which everyone feels connected, and in turn feels safe and at ease; where everyone has the freedom to speak their truths without worry of belittlement or even violence.
Imagine a world in which we never have to feel anything other than that incredible sigh of relief when we enter a room in which we know the people in that room truly understand us—a world in which we are all wise enough and enlightened enough, full of enough love to give everyone the grace they deserve, the way Jesus give us that unconditional grace, and to know that we’ve been given that grace in return. Imagine a world in which we can approach anyone on “boldness” and openness, knowing we’ll be understood and loved no matter what questionable or difficult choices we’ve made or traumatic maybe formerly alienating experiences we’ve had.
The author of Hebrews refers to Jesus’ throne as the “throne of grace.” It’s the only time in the Bible that the throne is named that—it’s usually “glory” or something similar. But in this instance, it’s been transformed. It’s no longer some unapproachable, intimidating throne— it’s something we can feel comfortable in front of. It’s a place we can be vulnerable. It’s a place we can be bold in our approach, where we can ask the most challenging question, where we can cry our most painful tears, where we can celebrate our greatest joys.
And so our call on this earth is to change this place into a world of grace. No more a world of glory; no longer a world on intimidation and power; no longer a world in which we’re ashamed to be ourselves and to say our truths. We’re working for a world of grace, of understanding. A world of compassion and of love. We’re working for a world in which we can feel that perpetual sigh of relief—that things will be okay because we know that we are surrounded by those who really get us and who will give us grace, and to whom we will give it in return. We will use that dream of perpetual grace to inform our every decision from the voting booth to the dinner table—to bring about a world where we can boldly tell our stories and ask our questions and speak our deepest truths—to bring about a world in which sight of relief is never-ending because we are truly understood and loved and supported by all those who surround us… to bring about an earth as it is in heaven. Amen.
