← Contents Hebrews 11:1–40

Hebrews 11:1–40

1NOW FAITH IS being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. 2This is what the ancients were commended for.

3By 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.

4By faith Abel offered God a better sacrifice than Cain did. By faith he was commended as a righteous man, when God spoke well of his offerings. And by faith he still speaks, even though he is dead.

5By 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. 6And 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.

7By faith Noah, when warned about things not yet seen, in holy fear built an ark to save his family. By his faith he condemned the world and became heir of the righteousness that comes by faith.

8By 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. 9By 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. 10For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God.

11By faith Abraham, even though he was past age—and Sarah herself was barren—was enabled to become a father because he considered him faithful who had made the promise. 12And so from this one man, and he as good as dead, came descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as countless as the sand on the seashore.

13All 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. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. 14People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. 15If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. 16Instead, 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.

17By faith Abraham, when God tested him, offered Isaac as a sacrifice. He who had received the promises was about to sacrifice his one and only son, 18even though God had said to him, “It is through Isaac that your offspring will be reckoned.” 19Abraham reasoned that God could raise the dead, and figuratively speaking, he did receive Isaac back from death.

20By faith Isaac blessed Jacob and Esau in regard to their future.

21By faith Jacob, when he was dying, blessed each of Joseph’s sons, and worshiped as he leaned on the top of his staff.

22By faith Joseph, when his end was near, spoke about the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt and gave instructions about his bones.

23By faith Moses’ parents hid him for three months after he was born, because they saw he was no ordinary child, and they were not afraid of the king’s edict.

24By faith Moses, when he had grown up, refused to be known as the son of Pharaoh’s daughter. 25He chose to be mistreated along with the people of God rather than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a short time. 26He regarded disgrace for the sake of Christ as of greater value than the treasures of Egypt, because he was looking ahead to his reward. 27By faith he left Egypt, not fearing the king’s anger; he persevered because he saw him who is invisible. 28By faith he kept the Passover and the sprinkling of blood, so that the destroyer of the firstborn would not touch the firstborn of Israel.

29By faith the people passed through the Red Sea as on dry land; but when the Egyptians tried to do so, they were drowned.

30By faith the walls of Jericho fell, after the people had marched around them for seven days.

31By faith the prostitute Rahab, because she welcomed the spies, was not killed with those who were disobedient.

32And what more shall I say? I do not have time to tell about Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, David, Samuel and the prophets, 33who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, and gained what was promised; who shut the mouths of lions, 34quenched the fury of the flames, and escaped the edge of the sword; whose weakness was turned to strength; and who became powerful in battle and routed foreign armies. 35Women received back their dead, raised to life again. Others were tortured and refused to be released, so that they might gain a better resurrection. 36Some faced jeers and flogging, while still others were chained and put in prison. 37They were stoned; they were sawed in two; they were put to death by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated—38the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground.

39These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised. 40God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect.

Original Meaning

Overture (11:1–3)

THE WRITER OF Hebrews begins his example list with a two-part definition of faith: “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” The word hypostasis, translated by the NIV as a participle (“being sure”), is in fact a noun, which was used variously to communicate the idea of substance, firmness, confidence, a collection of documents establishing ownership, a guarantee, or a proof.2 It probably should be understood in 11:1, as in 3:14, in the sense of a “firm, solid confidence”3 or a “calm courage” with reference to things hoped for. Thus, we can translate this part of the verse: “Now faith is the resolute confidence.…”4 The examples that follow demonstrate a posture of firm confidence in the promises of God even though the believers had not yet received the fulfillment of those promises (11:39).

This interpretation stands in parallel with the assertion in the second half of the verse: “and certain of what we do not see.”5 The word elenchos, used here, means a

conviction [that] is not a static emotion of complacency but something lively and active, not just a state of immovable dogmatism but of a vital certainty which impels the believer to stretch out his hand, as it were, and lay hold of those realities on which his hope is fixed and which, though unseen, are already his in Christ.6

Some realities are unseen because they belong to the spiritual realm and some because they lie in the future, when that realm will break into the earthly sphere.7 In either case, the person of faith lives out a bold confidence in God’s greater realities.

It was by a life lived in this bold confidence, this firm assurance in what was not immediately observable, that the Old Testament saints “were commended” by God (v. 2). In other words, not only did they bear witness to God, he bore witness to them, affirming their lives of faith.

This principle of faith grasping the reality of the invisible may be seen in the believer’s confession that God created the world (v. 3). The author states what would have been a foundational point of theology for his community, namely, that God brought the visible, created order into being by his word and out of nothing. The author of Hebrews probably has in mind the creation song of Genesis 1, in which the creative word of God called forth the various aspects of creation.8 Faith is what looks at that created order and has a firm and resolute confidence in the God to whom it bears witness, who, though unseen, has provided a foundation for such a confidence through his mighty acts.

Bridging Contexts

TO STAY WITH the step-by-step progression of thought in the first ten chapters of Hebrews one must remain focused, analytical, and persevering. We have followed an argument that has taken us from heaven to earth and back to heaven again in dealing with truths about God’s Son, our great high priest. Furthermore, interwoven between sections dealing with Christ’s person and work, the author has challenged his readers relentlessly with promises and warnings, good examples and bad, words of encouragement and harsh rebuke. We have trekked through beautiful but imposing theological and homiletical terrain. Now, suddenly, we have come up over a rise to find Hebrews 11 stretched before us like a lovely, powerful, rolling river, winding its way across our path.

The beauty of the author’s example list in chapter 11 draws us into a melodic and sweeping look at God’s people down through the biblical ages. The change to a new ordering of material, one that is more narrative in approach, presents a pleasing shift of pace. However, we must not allow the change or its beauty to blind us to the author’s intention for this chapter—he wishes to challenge his readers to bold living for God.

Thus far in our treatment of Hebrews 11, we have worked our way through the rather lengthy catalogue of examples. For all its length, the chapter really presents us with a simple message that must not be missed: The life of faith is the only life that pleases God. The author uses the phrase “by faith” repeatedly throughout the chapter, calling the hearers to the manner by which one must live for God. The whole point of his example list is to provide voluminous evidence that faith is the posture by which people live lives of purposeful impact by and for God. We are convinced, as the original hearers certainly must have been, that these great heroes of faith are merely representatives of a much larger host to whom God has offered commendation. Yet, it may take some doing to imagine their circumstances and accomplishment as applicable to us. This brings us to the first pitfall that must be addressed before we can apply the passage to our contemporary contexts.

Pitfall 1: “I’m no hero.” As the author of Hebrews showcases spiritual luminaries marched before us across the stage of history, there exists a danger for us as contemporary readers. These people are different from us, we may reason. After all, they are in the Bible. So of course they were able to act nobly in relation to the unseen God and in response to a hostile world! We may see ourselves, by contrast, as much too normal, or worldly, or powerless to live extraordinary lives of faith.

But if this is our perspective we miss the whole point—this life of faith is normal for the people of God. This is “mere” Christianity, as C. S. Lewis put it. The author’s whole program is to call struggling, sometimes bumbling Christians to live boldly by faith. He calls us—with all our habits and hang-ups, warts and worries—to action. We are called to step out of step with the world, hop up on the stage of history, and take our place in God’s roll call of the faithful. Of course we are inadequate; but so have been all others who have evidenced the grace of God. It would not be grace otherwise.

There are our brothers and sisters around the world, in places like Saudi Arabia, China, and Cuba, who have long been thrust into lives of conflict in which faith is a necessary tool for survival. They are forced to discover their own spiritual fortitude, many living faithfully in light of eternity, in light of the unseen God and his kingdom. Those of us in the West often have lived, by contrast, in relative comfort with what is “seen.” Why focus on the coming world when the present one seems so nice? But this state of affairs may be changing. Philip Yancey, in his potent book What’s So Amazing About Grace? writes:

The culture war is under way. Ironically, every year the church in the United States draws closer and closer to the situation faced by the New Testament church: an embattled minority living in a pluralistic, pagan society. Christians in places like Sri Lanka, Tibet, Sudan, and Saudi Arabia have faced open hostility from their governments for years. But in the United States, with a history so congenial to the faith, we don’t like it.29

Thus Hebrews 11, a text highly relevant to any believer, may have increasing relevance even for those of us in parts of the world historically congenial to Christians. We must be ready, practicing faith in the little things of bank accounts and boardrooms, if we are to honor God with greater opportunities. In whatever our situation, we must hear God’s call to join the ranks of faith examples.

Pitfall 2: Misconceptions of faith. Another of our challenges in applying this chapter to contemporary life is the work of getting past certain misconceptions of faith. Use of the term “faith” calls to mind different things for different people. Here I mention four misconceptions, the first two normally held in Christian circles, and the second two normally held in the broader culture. (1) There is faith as faith in God’s goodness to me. This expression can be found in the “health-and-wealth” corners of Christendom as well as among other, idealistic Christians, who reason that a good God can only produce good things in lives lived in a good way. To these faith only has one aim, one fruit—a life of ease, blessing, and bounty. There is, of course, truth to the claim that God wishes to bless his children, but this vision of faith comes crashing down on the rocks of reality. Certainly God is the giver of good gifts (James 1:17), but those gifts sometimes come wrapped in odd packages (James 1:2–4).

(2) At times faith is misunderstood as summed up in a faith-equals-creed approach. The New Testament does refer to “the faith” as a set of beliefs (e.g., Gal. 1:23; 1 Tim. 4:1, 6; Jude 3), but generally the concept of faith denotes something much more dynamic and active—a life lived in a trust relationship with God. This active faith certainly rests on sound belief, but it cannot be summed up by “cognitive assent” (James 2:14–26). The stance of “faith-equals-creed” remains a danger for anyone who rightly places a great deal of emphasis on doctrine.

(3) Both those sympathetic and those hostile to religion can misunderstand faith as a blind leap into the unknown.30 Many moderns, for example, misunderstand faith as the antithesis of scientific endeavor. They reason that a true scientist cannot be a person of faith, for scientists are people grounded in facts. Even those of the broader culture sympathetic to religious belief often see faith as a warm-hearted step into the black, cavernous hole of one’s hopes or dreams. “You’ve just got to have faith” most often means, “You’ve just got to act contrary to all that you know to be true and trust that things are going to work out the way you want them to.”

(4) Still others understand faith as a life of reflective devotion to any god one happens to follow. “She is a person of deep faith” may be applied to a follower of Buddha, Krishna, or Christ. Thus, faith is seen as fairly synonymous with spirituality. In contradistinction to the faith-equals-creed approach, this definition of faith suggests that a particular set of beliefs is in essence unimportant. What matters is a sincerity and, perhaps, a commitment that transforms the individual into a more purposeful, loving person.

But none of these approaches to faith—faith as God’s goodness to me, faith as creed, faith as a blind leap, and faith as reflective devotion—does justice to the dynamic, challenging portrait of authentic Christian faith as presented in Hebrews 11. This picture, when carefully analyzed, eclipses the false visions of faith detailed above, showing them to be inadequate.

Faith as “defined” by Hebrews 11. As portrayed in the lives of God’s faithful through the ages, (1) faith involves confident action. Most of the examples delineated in Hebrews 11 involve a person acting confidently in accordance with what God says. By faith Abel offered to God a superior sacrifice, Noah built an ark, Abraham obeyed by leaving familiar territory and later by offering Isaac, Isaac blessed his sons, and one of those sons blessed Isaac’s great-grandsons, and on the list goes. The author spits out action words in rapid succession in verses 32–34: they conquered, administered, gained, shut, quenched, escaped, became powerful, and routed. Faith acts out a bold confidence.

(2) True faith is action taken in response to the unseen God and his promises. Faith, rather than merely static belief or cognitive assent, spurs one to act in accordance with God’s truth. Its boldness, however, seems especially to do with the fact that these great people of faith are backed up by the Unseen. They step forward with eyebrow-raising tenacity and confidence and with no perceptible reason for doing so. But God has spoken. God has manifested himself, and this is reason enough. Therefore, we too are called to an active, confident faith that finds its reason in the unseen God. If we have faith of another stripe, we need to reevaluate our “faith.”

(3) Faith involves God’s working extraordinary miracles in the lives of ordinary people. We call the example list of Hebrews 11 the “Hall of Faith” and think of these inductees as especially heroic. Yet if we stop and reflect for a moment, we realize that there is much about those on the list that was less than admirable. Noah, for example, got drunk and lay naked in his tent; Abraham lied about Sarah; Isaac lied about Rebekah; Jacob was a deceiver; Moses committed murder; the people of Israel were a bunch of ungrateful grumblers, Gideon a doubter, and David an adulterer. We may think that the author of Hebrews is stretching things a bit in holding these people up as exemplary if not for one thing—real faith must be expressed by real people, real pilgrims who have yet to reach the heavenly city. They are searching; they have not yet arrived. These are “heroes” not because they are perfect, but because they worked with God in his perfect work. Thus, we too are eligible for enlistment in the life of faith.

(4) Faith works in a variety of situations. It is striking that in the list of Hebrews 11 we do not have one healing, although support for that form of miracle can be found readily elsewhere in the New Testament. We have an offering, a transportation to heaven, the building of a boat, the moving of a family, the ability to have a child, obedience in offering that child back to God, the blessing of children, seeing into the future, defying an authority, the choosing of mistreatment above pleasure, the keeping of a religious ordinance, suffering persecution, and so on. Faith involves conquering in war, deliverance from animals and fire, and resurrection.

(5) Biblical faith may have a variety of outcomes as well. Notice that faith sometimes has an immediate, “positive” outcome, as when the children of Israel passed through the sea, the walls of Jericho fell, and widows received their dead back by resurrection. But we also find that faith can be rewarded with a “delayed” outcome or even a “negative” outcome. Abel still got murdered. Abraham had to wait for the son of the promise. Faith can also involve being tortured, mocked, beaten, destitute, stoned, put in prison, generally mistreated, and even mutilated. These do not fit easily into the “see all the wonderful things God wants to do in your life” gospel of modern, Western Christianity. Yet the picture is biblical. Our application of this passage must point out that faithful people sometimes do not see “results” in this life.

(6) However, faith is rewarded by God. One resounding point of Hebrews 11 is that God’s pilgrims look beyond the immediate to grasp the significance of the ultimate. Faith involves believing “that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.” One primary reward stands out in this chapter—God’s commendation (11:2, 39), his “well done” that every true believer longs to hear.

So what have we found characterizes biblical faith as depicted in Hebrews 11? What might be a definition? Faith is confidence that results in action carried out in a variety of situations by ordinary people in response to the unseen God and his promises, with various earthly outcomes but always the ultimate outcome of God’s commendation and reward. In its essence biblical faith involves people orienting their lives to God and his values against the “perceived” realities and values espoused by the world. Just as faith was applicable in a wide variety of situations during the biblical era, so our applications might be quite varied.

Those of our brothers and sisters around the world who “by faith” are facing severe persecution and death are an example to the rest of us. But we too are called to the life of faith. This means that in family life, work, education, intellect, social life, and countless other contexts we are called to reject a posture of fear and to live our lives with bold confidence in the unseen God, his Word, and his ultimate reward. Thus the life of faith—true, biblical faith—works to integrate life, and we must focus on greater realities than those easily seen with the eye, touched by the hand, or bought with financial resources.

Contemporary Significance

ON BECOMING ORDINARY “heroes.” How would you and I live today if we believed absolutely that God existed and loved us completely and had a destination for us that made all the world pale by just one square foot of its turf? How would we live if we believed that God cared about our every action and every concern and wished to reward us magnanimously for our faith? How would you and I live in the face of opposition if we believed in God, really believed as if our whole lives depended on him and his? You say, “But I do; I do believe absolutely. I believe with all I am and all I have.”

Then how would you live differently if you did not believe? Would there be much difference? This is a critical question. If all I am and have and do differs little from my unbelieving neighbor, then I have embraced his world and his values and fool myself by saying I am living for another world and kingdom values. My life must be radically different in what I embrace—the values of a heavenly kingdom. When I live “by faith,” I then will be one to whom God can bear witness and one who bears witness to God in such a way that others will be stimulated to faith. My life will portray that “faith works!” Then I will be a “hero” in the best sense of the word, for I will live a life that helps others and honors Another. Then I will be extraordinary, having chosen a narrow path.

This is not the provenance of “super Christians,” however. Do not check the “Not Applicable” box yet. As Christians we are extraordinary because of what God has done in the midst of and in spite of our spiritual dullness. Speaking of the humbling amateurishness of those with whom God works, author Annie Dillard writes:

A high school stage play is more polished than this service we have been rehearsing since the year one. In two thousand years, we have not worked out the kinks. We positively glorify them. Week after week we witness the same miracle: that God is so mighty he can stifle his own laughter. Week after week, we witness the same miracle: that God, for reasons unfathomable, refrains from blowing our dancing bear act to smithereens. Week after week Christ washes the disciples’ dirty feet, handles their very toes, and repeats, It is all right—believe it or not—to be people.31

Just a few pages later Dillard reflects on a tall Catholic priest in his sixties who, “when he knelt at the altar, and when he rose from kneeling, his knees cracked. It was a fine church music, this sound of his cracking knees.”32 So God makes his own sweet, often unappreciated music with second-hand, pawn-shop instruments cast off by the world. Only eternity will reveal their true worth, but at times even earth time gives glimpses.

Living boldly. A great and significant shift in the posture of Eastern European Christians happened during the 1970s. For years members of the underground church had met in secret, used code for communication, rarely talked on public telephones, and wrote pseudonymous essays for underground papers. Believers in Poland and Czechoslovakia decided that this posture of fear must change, so they began to live boldly, meeting openly, signing their names and addresses to articles, and handing out newspapers on street corners. They paid a price for their dissidence, such as time in jail, but they reaped a much greater reward as the infrastructure of communist ideology began to crumble before their eyes. A rag-tag group of peasants, poets, and clergy brought down a seemingly impregnable ideological fortress—by faith.33

In May 1990, the May Day Celebration was carried out in Red Square as dusk began to settle on the U.S.S.R. Myriads of troops and tanks filed through the Square in an impressive, oppressive show of force as banners and pictures of Marx, Lenin, and Engels pointed to the sky. Communist leaders watched the scene from a seemingly unapproachable platform, as the common person was held back by barricades.

Suddenly, eight men began pushing their way thorough the barricades. The police and the army tried to run over and stop them, but six of them got away and rushed between tanks to the front of the platform while Gorbachev looked down. One of them shouted, “Mikhail Sergeyevich, Christ has risen!” and lifted an 8-foot-high crucifix into the sky. And the crowd responded with a great swell, “Christ is risen, indeed!”34

A bold act. An act of faith. An act undertaken in light of the unseen but living God. The staunchest structures of the world have given way before God’s pilgrims of faith.

We are challenged by our contemporaries around the world who have lived out such public, God-honoring displays of courage. Yet the life of faith, the life of bold confidence in God, is not only the call of those forced by oppression to stand or shrink before a hostile world. God’s examples of this virtue may be found in all corners of the world and in a wide variety of circumstances.

John and Brenda Green, friends and fellow church members of mine, recently sat on their front lawn as they watched their house burn. Church people and pastors gathered around them, consoling them in their loss. John is a doctor. The home was beautiful, filled with beautiful things. As I arrived on the scene, the first thing Brenda said to me was, “George, pray for our neighbors. This is going to give us a great opportunity to witness to them.” Later, as a helper aided in cleaning up the inside of the charred and smoke-smeared interior, she commented to Brenda on the devastating loss. Brenda replied with conviction, “All we lost were material things.” For John and Brenda the kingdom and people are more important than their possessions.

Prior to the fire, a single mother from our church who has come far in her faith in the past year was living with them, a testimony to John and Brenda’s priorities. That faith has sustained them thus far through a difficult chapter of their lives. Faith is seeing beyond the smoke-clouded, hard-nosed realities of this world to a greater and lasting reality. Helen Keller once noted, “I can see … in what you call the dark, but which to me is golden. I can see a God-made world, not a man-made world.”35

By faith the director of an inner-city youth outreach program ministers to at-risk teens. By faith a missionary couple shares the gospel with Arab Muslims over a span of decades. By faith a businessman lives with integrity and openness about his relationship with Christ—and is fired by an unbelieving boss. By faith a money manager gives three-quarters of his income to the church’s work, setting a financial cap on his family’s standard of living. By faith a successful saleswoman leaves her job to enroll in seminary, believing that God has called her to the mission field. By faith a church decides to stay in a land-locked, downtown location, rather than moving to suburbia, believing God has not abandoned the residents of the downtown area. By faith these all live out their lives as if God “exists and … rewards those who earnestly seek him” (v. 6).

A “blind” and focused journey. My wife, Pat, and I just celebrated our ten-year anniversary. For our honeymoon ten years ago we were to fly into El Paso, Texas. From there we would drive up into the southern Rockies of New Mexico to my aunt’s cabin. On the day of our flight, however, El Paso (yes, El Paso, Texas!) received a record twenty-two inches of snow—a real blizzard by West Texas standards. Being unable to land because of conditions, we were taken on to Phoenix (I had gotten food poisoning the day before at a five-star restaurant and was still suffering the effect, but that is another story).

Immediately upon touching down, however, the pilot informed us that the snowstorm had stopped. He told us to stay on the jet; we were going back to El Paso. Yet by the time we got back to El Paso the storm had cranked up its white fury again, and the pilot now told us we would be landing “in almost zero visibility.” This was not comforting. The jet descended through a white, winter curtain that opened only at the last second, revealing the ghostly lights of the runway. We flew in on the instruments, and the ride was neither comfortable nor enjoyable. I do not like flying blind.

The Christian journey is a sure-but-blinded flight, brought home on the instruments of divine revelation. The blinding sin-rage and naturalistic wisdom of the age blow relentlessly against the windshield of our progress in the faith, but faith keeps a steady nose pointed to where God’s Word indicates we have a promised destination. Just as the pilot in the storm had a bold though, perhaps, tension-filled confidence in his flight plan, so the Christian lives step by steady step on a path whose Maker and end are imperceptible to an earthbound eye.

I lie awake in bed some nights listening to the night noises that play around the rooms of my semirural home in Tennessee. My wife stirs comfortably next to me; the old oak beams crack in the cold; pipes pop; a log falls in the fireplace. Occasionally a pack of coyotes ventures to our side of the cornfield across the road, tossing its unsettling, surreal yelp-barks to the sky and down through our roof upon sleepy ears. Yet, there is a sound that brings great comfort to me as I lie awake. Our gas heating unit resides in the attic on the bedroom end of the house. Suddenly, as I strain to listen for a child’s cough or an intruder’s step, the gas burner ignites with a gentle “whoosh.” Almost immediately the electric brain of the contraption clicks and begins to blow warmth throughout every cooling corner of our home. In the dead of winter I have become fairly adept at judging the temperature outside by the frequency with which the heater rumbles to life inside. The heater, mostly unseen, makes its presence ever known by surrounding my family with its radiance. Its presence rumbles in the background of my life, weaving a thread of comfort through night after dark night, as I lie awake and listen to my wife’s gentle breathing.

During these nighttime awakenings, at this stage in my life, I am tempted to hear the call of various fears: the fear that something might happen to Pat or one of the children; fear that something might happen to me, preventing me from being there for my family; fear that I might not be able to follow through on a project (like this book!); fear of evil people who oppose the gospel; fear of something going wrong at work; fear of mid-life; and so on and so forth. There is much of which to be afraid in this dark and morbid world. One session of the evening news provides ample evidence that the world has much harm to offer us as people. These fears call me to shrink back from life and, at times, from the Lifegiver. As people of faith we must not answer this call.

Although the world is dark, the presence of God rumbles in the background, blowing evidence of his presence and blessings into its every corner. It is a comforting presence, a warming against the cold night of meaninglessness, hostile selfishness, and fear that otherwise would consume us. How cold the world would be if not for the unseen God. How comforted those who know the path of faith, who have submitted themselves to the beautiful work of God in their groping lives. There really is no other way to live.

Original Meaning

Movement 1: First Examples of Faith (11:4–12)

THE WRITER NOW follows, in sequence, great examples of faithfulness from Genesis, beginning with Abel and progressing to an initial discussion of Abraham’s faith. In each example the emphasis lies both on an act accomplished by faith and the right spiritual posture of the exemplar.

By faith Abel presented God with a sacrifice superior to that of Cain (v. 4). The account of this action in Genesis 4:4 does not provide us with details as to why Abel’s offering was pleasing to God and Cain’s was not, but we are given hints. Abel’s sacrifice consisted of “fat portions from some of the firstborn of his flock,” which may speak to his giving the best of what he had. Notice that the Genesis text reports “the LORD looked in favor on Abel and his offering,” while he rejected Cain and his offering. Cain had not done what was right (4:7), revealing that he himself was not right spiritually. His brother Abel, by contrast, was “a righteous man” (according to Heb. 11:4), the author tying Abel’s example back to the Old Testament quotation found in 10:37–38, which states, “But my righteous one will live by faith.” Consequently, he was “commended” by God9 and still today “speaks” even though he has been dead for a long time. His attitude and action were such that his example of faithfulness continues among people of faith.10 Thus Hebrews emphasizes this vital link between internal attitudes and external actions.

The emphasis in the Enoch example (11:5–6) rests even more squarely on the importance of one’s spiritual posture. This faithful believer, according to Hebrews’ interpretation of the Old Testament text, was taken out of this world by God without experiencing death (Gen. 5:24). Why? Because in his life he was “commended as one who pleased God”; that is, he brought God pleasure. This observation reflects a conviction inherent to the Genesis text, which tells us that Enoch “walked with God.” Most significantly, however, the author still has in mind the quotation of Habakkuk 2:3–4 (Heb. 10:37–38), which speaks of God’s lack of pleasure toward one who shrinks back from commitment. By contrast, Enoch was resolute in his commitment, thus bringing God pleasure.

Although the Old Testament text does not mention Enoch’s faith, our author can assume that he exemplifies such a stance towards God, based on that Habakkuk quote. “Without faith,” he goes on to tell us in 11:6, “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.” In other words, the life of faith may be said to have at least three components. (1) It involves a life of coming to God and seeking him earnestly. This point is in keeping with the author’s challenge to approach or draw near to God (4:16; 10:22). Thus God’s people are called to live lives of radical openness to and in conversation with God.

(2) This life of faith involves believing that God exists. It is absurd to think that a person can sincerely come to God in prayer without a firm confidence in his existence. A foundational belief in God supports further acts of faith in which the believer comes to God for help.

(3) This life of faith involves confidence that God will reward those who exercise such faith. The acts of persons expressing confidence in the living God do not go unnoticed or unrewarded. God, by his nature and in accordance with his promises, rewards those who act in faith toward him.

Rounding off his account of exemplars prior to Abraham, the author introduces Noah (Gen. 6:1–9:17), the first to act in faith based on a message from God. Noah acted on the divine warning in regard to a flood that was not yet seen and did so “in holy fear” (a form of the verb eulabeomai, meaning that he paid close and reverent attention to God’s instruction). Accordingly, Noah built an ark to save his family and, correspondingly, condemned the world. His building of the ark both bore witness to the unseen God and his Word and constituted a stark, prophetic rebuke to that godless generation.11 Their unbelief stands in bold relief to Noah’s faith stance toward God. As one who lived by faith, or confident boldness, with regard to God’s Word, he became an heir of righteousness.

The author now moves to an extensive treatment of the greatest example of faith in the Old Testament, Abraham the patriarch. Verses 8–12 focus on two foundational events from the great exemplar’s life as evidencing his faith. (1) Abraham obediently followed God’s call to move to a place with which he was unfamiliar (see Gen. 12:1–9). Abram’s father, Terah, originally had taken his son Abram and his family from Ur of the Chaldeans and settled in Haran, intending to go to Canaan (Gen. 11:31). In Haran Abram received the word of the Lord (12:1–3):

Leave your country, your people and your father’s household and go to the land I will show you.

I will make you into a great nation

and I will bless you;

I will make your name great,

and you will be a blessing.

I will bless those who bless you,

and whoever curses you I will curse;

and all peoples on earth

will be blessed through you.

Abraham demonstrates his faith by obeying God, even though he was completely unfamiliar with the land to which he was going. This thought continues the motif that faith consists of acting with reference to the unseen. It is important to note that the promise that his descendants would inherit the land did not come until Abraham was already in Canaan, and the promise would not be realized by Abraham himself but by his offspring. Thus, he did not go to the land to possess it but to live out an act of obedience to God. Also, his mode of living in Canaan—dwelling in tents—served as a symbol of his commitment not to settle into the earthly cities of the Canaanites, but to seek a more permanent city built by God.

(2) Abraham was enabled to become a father because he believed God (see Gen. 18:10–15; 21:1–7).12 Faith, moving beyond the normal boundaries of possibility, works miracles. Abraham, an old man, and Sarah, his wife, well past the age of being able to conceive, became parents, trusting in the faithfulness of God. Again the emphasis here challenges the hearers to take their eyes off of the obvious—in this case the inability of old people to become pregnant—and to focus on the faithful God of integrity, who keeps his promises.

In verse 11 the writer alludes to Genesis 15:6: “Abram believed the LORD, and he credited it to him as righteousness.” The happy result, in accordance with the promise of God (Gen. 15:5), is recorded in Hebrews 11:12: “And so from this one man, and he as good as dead, came descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as countless as the sand on the seashore.” Out of nothing comes a multitude too numerous to count.

Bridging Contexts

TO STAY WITH the step-by-step progression of thought in the first ten chapters of Hebrews one must remain focused, analytical, and persevering. We have followed an argument that has taken us from heaven to earth and back to heaven again in dealing with truths about God’s Son, our great high priest. Furthermore, interwoven between sections dealing with Christ’s person and work, the author has challenged his readers relentlessly with promises and warnings, good examples and bad, words of encouragement and harsh rebuke. We have trekked through beautiful but imposing theological and homiletical terrain. Now, suddenly, we have come up over a rise to find Hebrews 11 stretched before us like a lovely, powerful, rolling river, winding its way across our path.

The beauty of the author’s example list in chapter 11 draws us into a melodic and sweeping look at God’s people down through the biblical ages. The change to a new ordering of material, one that is more narrative in approach, presents a pleasing shift of pace. However, we must not allow the change or its beauty to blind us to the author’s intention for this chapter—he wishes to challenge his readers to bold living for God.

Thus far in our treatment of Hebrews 11, we have worked our way through the rather lengthy catalogue of examples. For all its length, the chapter really presents us with a simple message that must not be missed: The life of faith is the only life that pleases God. The author uses the phrase “by faith” repeatedly throughout the chapter, calling the hearers to the manner by which one must live for God. The whole point of his example list is to provide voluminous evidence that faith is the posture by which people live lives of purposeful impact by and for God. We are convinced, as the original hearers certainly must have been, that these great heroes of faith are merely representatives of a much larger host to whom God has offered commendation. Yet, it may take some doing to imagine their circumstances and accomplishment as applicable to us. This brings us to the first pitfall that must be addressed before we can apply the passage to our contemporary contexts.

Pitfall 1: “I’m no hero.” As the author of Hebrews showcases spiritual luminaries marched before us across the stage of history, there exists a danger for us as contemporary readers. These people are different from us, we may reason. After all, they are in the Bible. So of course they were able to act nobly in relation to the unseen God and in response to a hostile world! We may see ourselves, by contrast, as much too normal, or worldly, or powerless to live extraordinary lives of faith.

But if this is our perspective we miss the whole point—this life of faith is normal for the people of God. This is “mere” Christianity, as C. S. Lewis put it. The author’s whole program is to call struggling, sometimes bumbling Christians to live boldly by faith. He calls us—with all our habits and hang-ups, warts and worries—to action. We are called to step out of step with the world, hop up on the stage of history, and take our place in God’s roll call of the faithful. Of course we are inadequate; but so have been all others who have evidenced the grace of God. It would not be grace otherwise.

There are our brothers and sisters around the world, in places like Saudi Arabia, China, and Cuba, who have long been thrust into lives of conflict in which faith is a necessary tool for survival. They are forced to discover their own spiritual fortitude, many living faithfully in light of eternity, in light of the unseen God and his kingdom. Those of us in the West often have lived, by contrast, in relative comfort with what is “seen.” Why focus on the coming world when the present one seems so nice? But this state of affairs may be changing. Philip Yancey, in his potent book What’s So Amazing About Grace? writes:

The culture war is under way. Ironically, every year the church in the United States draws closer and closer to the situation faced by the New Testament church: an embattled minority living in a pluralistic, pagan society. Christians in places like Sri Lanka, Tibet, Sudan, and Saudi Arabia have faced open hostility from their governments for years. But in the United States, with a history so congenial to the faith, we don’t like it.29

Thus Hebrews 11, a text highly relevant to any believer, may have increasing relevance even for those of us in parts of the world historically congenial to Christians. We must be ready, practicing faith in the little things of bank accounts and boardrooms, if we are to honor God with greater opportunities. In whatever our situation, we must hear God’s call to join the ranks of faith examples.

Pitfall 2: Misconceptions of faith. Another of our challenges in applying this chapter to contemporary life is the work of getting past certain misconceptions of faith. Use of the term “faith” calls to mind different things for different people. Here I mention four misconceptions, the first two normally held in Christian circles, and the second two normally held in the broader culture. (1) There is faith as faith in God’s goodness to me. This expression can be found in the “health-and-wealth” corners of Christendom as well as among other, idealistic Christians, who reason that a good God can only produce good things in lives lived in a good way. To these faith only has one aim, one fruit—a life of ease, blessing, and bounty. There is, of course, truth to the claim that God wishes to bless his children, but this vision of faith comes crashing down on the rocks of reality. Certainly God is the giver of good gifts (James 1:17), but those gifts sometimes come wrapped in odd packages (James 1:2–4).

(2) At times faith is misunderstood as summed up in a faith-equals-creed approach. The New Testament does refer to “the faith” as a set of beliefs (e.g., Gal. 1:23; 1 Tim. 4:1, 6; Jude 3), but generally the concept of faith denotes something much more dynamic and active—a life lived in a trust relationship with God. This active faith certainly rests on sound belief, but it cannot be summed up by “cognitive assent” (James 2:14–26). The stance of “faith-equals-creed” remains a danger for anyone who rightly places a great deal of emphasis on doctrine.

(3) Both those sympathetic and those hostile to religion can misunderstand faith as a blind leap into the unknown.30 Many moderns, for example, misunderstand faith as the antithesis of scientific endeavor. They reason that a true scientist cannot be a person of faith, for scientists are people grounded in facts. Even those of the broader culture sympathetic to religious belief often see faith as a warm-hearted step into the black, cavernous hole of one’s hopes or dreams. “You’ve just got to have faith” most often means, “You’ve just got to act contrary to all that you know to be true and trust that things are going to work out the way you want them to.”

(4) Still others understand faith as a life of reflective devotion to any god one happens to follow. “She is a person of deep faith” may be applied to a follower of Buddha, Krishna, or Christ. Thus, faith is seen as fairly synonymous with spirituality. In contradistinction to the faith-equals-creed approach, this definition of faith suggests that a particular set of beliefs is in essence unimportant. What matters is a sincerity and, perhaps, a commitment that transforms the individual into a more purposeful, loving person.

But none of these approaches to faith—faith as God’s goodness to me, faith as creed, faith as a blind leap, and faith as reflective devotion—does justice to the dynamic, challenging portrait of authentic Christian faith as presented in Hebrews 11. This picture, when carefully analyzed, eclipses the false visions of faith detailed above, showing them to be inadequate.

Faith as “defined” by Hebrews 11. As portrayed in the lives of God’s faithful through the ages, (1) faith involves confident action. Most of the examples delineated in Hebrews 11 involve a person acting confidently in accordance with what God says. By faith Abel offered to God a superior sacrifice, Noah built an ark, Abraham obeyed by leaving familiar territory and later by offering Isaac, Isaac blessed his sons, and one of those sons blessed Isaac’s great-grandsons, and on the list goes. The author spits out action words in rapid succession in verses 32–34: they conquered, administered, gained, shut, quenched, escaped, became powerful, and routed. Faith acts out a bold confidence.

(2) True faith is action taken in response to the unseen God and his promises. Faith, rather than merely static belief or cognitive assent, spurs one to act in accordance with God’s truth. Its boldness, however, seems especially to do with the fact that these great people of faith are backed up by the Unseen. They step forward with eyebrow-raising tenacity and confidence and with no perceptible reason for doing so. But God has spoken. God has manifested himself, and this is reason enough. Therefore, we too are called to an active, confident faith that finds its reason in the unseen God. If we have faith of another stripe, we need to reevaluate our “faith.”

(3) Faith involves God’s working extraordinary miracles in the lives of ordinary people. We call the example list of Hebrews 11 the “Hall of Faith” and think of these inductees as especially heroic. Yet if we stop and reflect for a moment, we realize that there is much about those on the list that was less than admirable. Noah, for example, got drunk and lay naked in his tent; Abraham lied about Sarah; Isaac lied about Rebekah; Jacob was a deceiver; Moses committed murder; the people of Israel were a bunch of ungrateful grumblers, Gideon a doubter, and David an adulterer. We may think that the author of Hebrews is stretching things a bit in holding these people up as exemplary if not for one thing—real faith must be expressed by real people, real pilgrims who have yet to reach the heavenly city. They are searching; they have not yet arrived. These are “heroes” not because they are perfect, but because they worked with God in his perfect work. Thus, we too are eligible for enlistment in the life of faith.

(4) Faith works in a variety of situations. It is striking that in the list of Hebrews 11 we do not have one healing, although support for that form of miracle can be found readily elsewhere in the New Testament. We have an offering, a transportation to heaven, the building of a boat, the moving of a family, the ability to have a child, obedience in offering that child back to God, the blessing of children, seeing into the future, defying an authority, the choosing of mistreatment above pleasure, the keeping of a religious ordinance, suffering persecution, and so on. Faith involves conquering in war, deliverance from animals and fire, and resurrection.

(5) Biblical faith may have a variety of outcomes as well. Notice that faith sometimes has an immediate, “positive” outcome, as when the children of Israel passed through the sea, the walls of Jericho fell, and widows received their dead back by resurrection. But we also find that faith can be rewarded with a “delayed” outcome or even a “negative” outcome. Abel still got murdered. Abraham had to wait for the son of the promise. Faith can also involve being tortured, mocked, beaten, destitute, stoned, put in prison, generally mistreated, and even mutilated. These do not fit easily into the “see all the wonderful things God wants to do in your life” gospel of modern, Western Christianity. Yet the picture is biblical. Our application of this passage must point out that faithful people sometimes do not see “results” in this life.

(6) However, faith is rewarded by God. One resounding point of Hebrews 11 is that God’s pilgrims look beyond the immediate to grasp the significance of the ultimate. Faith involves believing “that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.” One primary reward stands out in this chapter—God’s commendation (11:2, 39), his “well done” that every true believer longs to hear.

So what have we found characterizes biblical faith as depicted in Hebrews 11? What might be a definition? Faith is confidence that results in action carried out in a variety of situations by ordinary people in response to the unseen God and his promises, with various earthly outcomes but always the ultimate outcome of God’s commendation and reward. In its essence biblical faith involves people orienting their lives to God and his values against the “perceived” realities and values espoused by the world. Just as faith was applicable in a wide variety of situations during the biblical era, so our applications might be quite varied.

Those of our brothers and sisters around the world who “by faith” are facing severe persecution and death are an example to the rest of us. But we too are called to the life of faith. This means that in family life, work, education, intellect, social life, and countless other contexts we are called to reject a posture of fear and to live our lives with bold confidence in the unseen God, his Word, and his ultimate reward. Thus the life of faith—true, biblical faith—works to integrate life, and we must focus on greater realities than those easily seen with the eye, touched by the hand, or bought with financial resources.

Contemporary Significance

ON BECOMING ORDINARY “heroes.” How would you and I live today if we believed absolutely that God existed and loved us completely and had a destination for us that made all the world pale by just one square foot of its turf? How would we live if we believed that God cared about our every action and every concern and wished to reward us magnanimously for our faith? How would you and I live in the face of opposition if we believed in God, really believed as if our whole lives depended on him and his? You say, “But I do; I do believe absolutely. I believe with all I am and all I have.”

Then how would you live differently if you did not believe? Would there be much difference? This is a critical question. If all I am and have and do differs little from my unbelieving neighbor, then I have embraced his world and his values and fool myself by saying I am living for another world and kingdom values. My life must be radically different in what I embrace—the values of a heavenly kingdom. When I live “by faith,” I then will be one to whom God can bear witness and one who bears witness to God in such a way that others will be stimulated to faith. My life will portray that “faith works!” Then I will be a “hero” in the best sense of the word, for I will live a life that helps others and honors Another. Then I will be extraordinary, having chosen a narrow path.

This is not the provenance of “super Christians,” however. Do not check the “Not Applicable” box yet. As Christians we are extraordinary because of what God has done in the midst of and in spite of our spiritual dullness. Speaking of the humbling amateurishness of those with whom God works, author Annie Dillard writes:

A high school stage play is more polished than this service we have been rehearsing since the year one. In two thousand years, we have not worked out the kinks. We positively glorify them. Week after week we witness the same miracle: that God is so mighty he can stifle his own laughter. Week after week, we witness the same miracle: that God, for reasons unfathomable, refrains from blowing our dancing bear act to smithereens. Week after week Christ washes the disciples’ dirty feet, handles their very toes, and repeats, It is all right—believe it or not—to be people.31

Just a few pages later Dillard reflects on a tall Catholic priest in his sixties who, “when he knelt at the altar, and when he rose from kneeling, his knees cracked. It was a fine church music, this sound of his cracking knees.”32 So God makes his own sweet, often unappreciated music with second-hand, pawn-shop instruments cast off by the world. Only eternity will reveal their true worth, but at times even earth time gives glimpses.

Living boldly. A great and significant shift in the posture of Eastern European Christians happened during the 1970s. For years members of the underground church had met in secret, used code for communication, rarely talked on public telephones, and wrote pseudonymous essays for underground papers. Believers in Poland and Czechoslovakia decided that this posture of fear must change, so they began to live boldly, meeting openly, signing their names and addresses to articles, and handing out newspapers on street corners. They paid a price for their dissidence, such as time in jail, but they reaped a much greater reward as the infrastructure of communist ideology began to crumble before their eyes. A rag-tag group of peasants, poets, and clergy brought down a seemingly impregnable ideological fortress—by faith.33

In May 1990, the May Day Celebration was carried out in Red Square as dusk began to settle on the U.S.S.R. Myriads of troops and tanks filed through the Square in an impressive, oppressive show of force as banners and pictures of Marx, Lenin, and Engels pointed to the sky. Communist leaders watched the scene from a seemingly unapproachable platform, as the common person was held back by barricades.

Suddenly, eight men began pushing their way thorough the barricades. The police and the army tried to run over and stop them, but six of them got away and rushed between tanks to the front of the platform while Gorbachev looked down. One of them shouted, “Mikhail Sergeyevich, Christ has risen!” and lifted an 8-foot-high crucifix into the sky. And the crowd responded with a great swell, “Christ is risen, indeed!”34

A bold act. An act of faith. An act undertaken in light of the unseen but living God. The staunchest structures of the world have given way before God’s pilgrims of faith.

We are challenged by our contemporaries around the world who have lived out such public, God-honoring displays of courage. Yet the life of faith, the life of bold confidence in God, is not only the call of those forced by oppression to stand or shrink before a hostile world. God’s examples of this virtue may be found in all corners of the world and in a wide variety of circumstances.

John and Brenda Green, friends and fellow church members of mine, recently sat on their front lawn as they watched their house burn. Church people and pastors gathered around them, consoling them in their loss. John is a doctor. The home was beautiful, filled with beautiful things. As I arrived on the scene, the first thing Brenda said to me was, “George, pray for our neighbors. This is going to give us a great opportunity to witness to them.” Later, as a helper aided in cleaning up the inside of the charred and smoke-smeared interior, she commented to Brenda on the devastating loss. Brenda replied with conviction, “All we lost were material things.” For John and Brenda the kingdom and people are more important than their possessions.

Prior to the fire, a single mother from our church who has come far in her faith in the past year was living with them, a testimony to John and Brenda’s priorities. That faith has sustained them thus far through a difficult chapter of their lives. Faith is seeing beyond the smoke-clouded, hard-nosed realities of this world to a greater and lasting reality. Helen Keller once noted, “I can see … in what you call the dark, but which to me is golden. I can see a God-made world, not a man-made world.”35

By faith the director of an inner-city youth outreach program ministers to at-risk teens. By faith a missionary couple shares the gospel with Arab Muslims over a span of decades. By faith a businessman lives with integrity and openness about his relationship with Christ—and is fired by an unbelieving boss. By faith a money manager gives three-quarters of his income to the church’s work, setting a financial cap on his family’s standard of living. By faith a successful saleswoman leaves her job to enroll in seminary, believing that God has called her to the mission field. By faith a church decides to stay in a land-locked, downtown location, rather than moving to suburbia, believing God has not abandoned the residents of the downtown area. By faith these all live out their lives as if God “exists and … rewards those who earnestly seek him” (v. 6).

A “blind” and focused journey. My wife, Pat, and I just celebrated our ten-year anniversary. For our honeymoon ten years ago we were to fly into El Paso, Texas. From there we would drive up into the southern Rockies of New Mexico to my aunt’s cabin. On the day of our flight, however, El Paso (yes, El Paso, Texas!) received a record twenty-two inches of snow—a real blizzard by West Texas standards. Being unable to land because of conditions, we were taken on to Phoenix (I had gotten food poisoning the day before at a five-star restaurant and was still suffering the effect, but that is another story).

Immediately upon touching down, however, the pilot informed us that the snowstorm had stopped. He told us to stay on the jet; we were going back to El Paso. Yet by the time we got back to El Paso the storm had cranked up its white fury again, and the pilot now told us we would be landing “in almost zero visibility.” This was not comforting. The jet descended through a white, winter curtain that opened only at the last second, revealing the ghostly lights of the runway. We flew in on the instruments, and the ride was neither comfortable nor enjoyable. I do not like flying blind.

The Christian journey is a sure-but-blinded flight, brought home on the instruments of divine revelation. The blinding sin-rage and naturalistic wisdom of the age blow relentlessly against the windshield of our progress in the faith, but faith keeps a steady nose pointed to where God’s Word indicates we have a promised destination. Just as the pilot in the storm had a bold though, perhaps, tension-filled confidence in his flight plan, so the Christian lives step by steady step on a path whose Maker and end are imperceptible to an earthbound eye.

I lie awake in bed some nights listening to the night noises that play around the rooms of my semirural home in Tennessee. My wife stirs comfortably next to me; the old oak beams crack in the cold; pipes pop; a log falls in the fireplace. Occasionally a pack of coyotes ventures to our side of the cornfield across the road, tossing its unsettling, surreal yelp-barks to the sky and down through our roof upon sleepy ears. Yet, there is a sound that brings great comfort to me as I lie awake. Our gas heating unit resides in the attic on the bedroom end of the house. Suddenly, as I strain to listen for a child’s cough or an intruder’s step, the gas burner ignites with a gentle “whoosh.” Almost immediately the electric brain of the contraption clicks and begins to blow warmth throughout every cooling corner of our home. In the dead of winter I have become fairly adept at judging the temperature outside by the frequency with which the heater rumbles to life inside. The heater, mostly unseen, makes its presence ever known by surrounding my family with its radiance. Its presence rumbles in the background of my life, weaving a thread of comfort through night after dark night, as I lie awake and listen to my wife’s gentle breathing.

During these nighttime awakenings, at this stage in my life, I am tempted to hear the call of various fears: the fear that something might happen to Pat or one of the children; fear that something might happen to me, preventing me from being there for my family; fear that I might not be able to follow through on a project (like this book!); fear of evil people who oppose the gospel; fear of something going wrong at work; fear of mid-life; and so on and so forth. There is much of which to be afraid in this dark and morbid world. One session of the evening news provides ample evidence that the world has much harm to offer us as people. These fears call me to shrink back from life and, at times, from the Lifegiver. As people of faith we must not answer this call.

Although the world is dark, the presence of God rumbles in the background, blowing evidence of his presence and blessings into its every corner. It is a comforting presence, a warming against the cold night of meaninglessness, hostile selfishness, and fear that otherwise would consume us. How cold the world would be if not for the unseen God. How comforted those who know the path of faith, who have submitted themselves to the beautiful work of God in their groping lives. There really is no other way to live.

Original Meaning

Interlude (11:13–16)

THE AUTHOR NOW pauses in his person-by-person account of the faithful to tease out certain implications he wishes his hearers to recognize. The interlude is both didactic (the principles here are highly instructional for their current crisis) and rhetorical (the author, ever the skilled orator, interrupts his rapid-fire list to heighten his audience’s attention). The “all these” of 11:13 almost certainly refers to Abraham and his family and does not include Abel, Enoch, and Noah, since the travel motif found in verses 13–16 fits best the patriarch and his company. Enoch for sure cannot be included since the author has already noted that he did not see death (11:5), which means he was not among those “living by faith when they died.” Rather, the focus continues on Abraham, his wife, and his son Isaac.

That “they did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance” alludes to the content of God’s promises to Abraham in Genesis 12:2–3; 15:5; 17:1–8. The possession of the land, the multitude of descendants (including those who would be kings), and the blessing of the nations all would be fulfilled in a time after Abraham and his immediate family passed from the scene.

Yet to what does the author refer when he says, “And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth”? In the Old Testament narratives the patriarchs and their descendants refer to themselves as “aliens and strangers” in the land (e.g., 1 Chron. 29:15; cf. Gen. 23:4; Ps. 39:12). Both in Jewish theology during the New Testament era and in the New Testament itself, this concept developed to emphasize the disparaging of earthly desires and the longing for a heavenly home.13 For example 1 Peter 2:11 reads, “Dear friends, I urge you, as aliens and strangers in the world, to abstain from sinful desires, which war against your soul.” In Hebrews 11:13–16 the author likewise wishes to emphasize that the patriarchs’ faith relationship to God was their preeminent commitment, not the obtaining of an earthly, secure place of residence. They died in a state of trust, never having seen their descendants’ reception of the land. Thus, the true object of their deepest desire was God himself and God’s city. Consequently, “God is not ashamed to be called their God.”

The message to the original hearers must not be missed, for their circumstance must be seen as analogous to that of the patriarchs. Perhaps their current experience of persecution has highlighted the alien nature of their earthly existence. They cannot perceive the fulfillment of God’s promises to them; all they can see is the difficulty of their present crisis. The writer’s point is that this is normal for people of faith. The promises of God must be embraced even though their fulfillment lies in the future. Life must be lived in our challenging, terrestrial cities in light of a better, heavenly country that will be experienced in the future. God is not ashamed of identifying with those who live in this way.

Bridging Contexts

TO STAY WITH the step-by-step progression of thought in the first ten chapters of Hebrews one must remain focused, analytical, and persevering. We have followed an argument that has taken us from heaven to earth and back to heaven again in dealing with truths about God’s Son, our great high priest. Furthermore, interwoven between sections dealing with Christ’s person and work, the author has challenged his readers relentlessly with promises and warnings, good examples and bad, words of encouragement and harsh rebuke. We have trekked through beautiful but imposing theological and homiletical terrain. Now, suddenly, we have come up over a rise to find Hebrews 11 stretched before us like a lovely, powerful, rolling river, winding its way across our path.

The beauty of the author’s example list in chapter 11 draws us into a melodic and sweeping look at God’s people down through the biblical ages. The change to a new ordering of material, one that is more narrative in approach, presents a pleasing shift of pace. However, we must not allow the change or its beauty to blind us to the author’s intention for this chapter—he wishes to challenge his readers to bold living for God.

Thus far in our treatment of Hebrews 11, we have worked our way through the rather lengthy catalogue of examples. For all its length, the chapter really presents us with a simple message that must not be missed: The life of faith is the only life that pleases God. The author uses the phrase “by faith” repeatedly throughout the chapter, calling the hearers to the manner by which one must live for God. The whole point of his example list is to provide voluminous evidence that faith is the posture by which people live lives of purposeful impact by and for God. We are convinced, as the original hearers certainly must have been, that these great heroes of faith are merely representatives of a much larger host to whom God has offered commendation. Yet, it may take some doing to imagine their circumstances and accomplishment as applicable to us. This brings us to the first pitfall that must be addressed before we can apply the passage to our contemporary contexts.

Pitfall 1: “I’m no hero.” As the author of Hebrews showcases spiritual luminaries marched before us across the stage of history, there exists a danger for us as contemporary readers. These people are different from us, we may reason. After all, they are in the Bible. So of course they were able to act nobly in relation to the unseen God and in response to a hostile world! We may see ourselves, by contrast, as much too normal, or worldly, or powerless to live extraordinary lives of faith.

But if this is our perspective we miss the whole point—this life of faith is normal for the people of God. This is “mere” Christianity, as C. S. Lewis put it. The author’s whole program is to call struggling, sometimes bumbling Christians to live boldly by faith. He calls us—with all our habits and hang-ups, warts and worries—to action. We are called to step out of step with the world, hop up on the stage of history, and take our place in God’s roll call of the faithful. Of course we are inadequate; but so have been all others who have evidenced the grace of God. It would not be grace otherwise.

There are our brothers and sisters around the world, in places like Saudi Arabia, China, and Cuba, who have long been thrust into lives of conflict in which faith is a necessary tool for survival. They are forced to discover their own spiritual fortitude, many living faithfully in light of eternity, in light of the unseen God and his kingdom. Those of us in the West often have lived, by contrast, in relative comfort with what is “seen.” Why focus on the coming world when the present one seems so nice? But this state of affairs may be changing. Philip Yancey, in his potent book What’s So Amazing About Grace? writes:

The culture war is under way. Ironically, every year the church in the United States draws closer and closer to the situation faced by the New Testament church: an embattled minority living in a pluralistic, pagan society. Christians in places like Sri Lanka, Tibet, Sudan, and Saudi Arabia have faced open hostility from their governments for years. But in the United States, with a history so congenial to the faith, we don’t like it.29

Thus Hebrews 11, a text highly relevant to any believer, may have increasing relevance even for those of us in parts of the world historically congenial to Christians. We must be ready, practicing faith in the little things of bank accounts and boardrooms, if we are to honor God with greater opportunities. In whatever our situation, we must hear God’s call to join the ranks of faith examples.

Pitfall 2: Misconceptions of faith. Another of our challenges in applying this chapter to contemporary life is the work of getting past certain misconceptions of faith. Use of the term “faith” calls to mind different things for different people. Here I mention four misconceptions, the first two normally held in Christian circles, and the second two normally held in the broader culture. (1) There is faith as faith in God’s goodness to me. This expression can be found in the “health-and-wealth” corners of Christendom as well as among other, idealistic Christians, who reason that a good God can only produce good things in lives lived in a good way. To these faith only has one aim, one fruit—a life of ease, blessing, and bounty. There is, of course, truth to the claim that God wishes to bless his children, but this vision of faith comes crashing down on the rocks of reality. Certainly God is the giver of good gifts (James 1:17), but those gifts sometimes come wrapped in odd packages (James 1:2–4).

(2) At times faith is misunderstood as summed up in a faith-equals-creed approach. The New Testament does refer to “the faith” as a set of beliefs (e.g., Gal. 1:23; 1 Tim. 4:1, 6; Jude 3), but generally the concept of faith denotes something much more dynamic and active—a life lived in a trust relationship with God. This active faith certainly rests on sound belief, but it cannot be summed up by “cognitive assent” (James 2:14–26). The stance of “faith-equals-creed” remains a danger for anyone who rightly places a great deal of emphasis on doctrine.

(3) Both those sympathetic and those hostile to religion can misunderstand faith as a blind leap into the unknown.30 Many moderns, for example, misunderstand faith as the antithesis of scientific endeavor. They reason that a true scientist cannot be a person of faith, for scientists are people grounded in facts. Even those of the broader culture sympathetic to religious belief often see faith as a warm-hearted step into the black, cavernous hole of one’s hopes or dreams. “You’ve just got to have faith” most often means, “You’ve just got to act contrary to all that you know to be true and trust that things are going to work out the way you want them to.”

(4) Still others understand faith as a life of reflective devotion to any god one happens to follow. “She is a person of deep faith” may be applied to a follower of Buddha, Krishna, or Christ. Thus, faith is seen as fairly synonymous with spirituality. In contradistinction to the faith-equals-creed approach, this definition of faith suggests that a particular set of beliefs is in essence unimportant. What matters is a sincerity and, perhaps, a commitment that transforms the individual into a more purposeful, loving person.

But none of these approaches to faith—faith as God’s goodness to me, faith as creed, faith as a blind leap, and faith as reflective devotion—does justice to the dynamic, challenging portrait of authentic Christian faith as presented in Hebrews 11. This picture, when carefully analyzed, eclipses the false visions of faith detailed above, showing them to be inadequate.

Faith as “defined” by Hebrews 11. As portrayed in the lives of God’s faithful through the ages, (1) faith involves confident action. Most of the examples delineated in Hebrews 11 involve a person acting confidently in accordance with what God says. By faith Abel offered to God a superior sacrifice, Noah built an ark, Abraham obeyed by leaving familiar territory and later by offering Isaac, Isaac blessed his sons, and one of those sons blessed Isaac’s great-grandsons, and on the list goes. The author spits out action words in rapid succession in verses 32–34: they conquered, administered, gained, shut, quenched, escaped, became powerful, and routed. Faith acts out a bold confidence.

(2) True faith is action taken in response to the unseen God and his promises. Faith, rather than merely static belief or cognitive assent, spurs one to act in accordance with God’s truth. Its boldness, however, seems especially to do with the fact that these great people of faith are backed up by the Unseen. They step forward with eyebrow-raising tenacity and confidence and with no perceptible reason for doing so. But God has spoken. God has manifested himself, and this is reason enough. Therefore, we too are called to an active, confident faith that finds its reason in the unseen God. If we have faith of another stripe, we need to reevaluate our “faith.”

(3) Faith involves God’s working extraordinary miracles in the lives of ordinary people. We call the example list of Hebrews 11 the “Hall of Faith” and think of these inductees as especially heroic. Yet if we stop and reflect for a moment, we realize that there is much about those on the list that was less than admirable. Noah, for example, got drunk and lay naked in his tent; Abraham lied about Sarah; Isaac lied about Rebekah; Jacob was a deceiver; Moses committed murder; the people of Israel were a bunch of ungrateful grumblers, Gideon a doubter, and David an adulterer. We may think that the author of Hebrews is stretching things a bit in holding these people up as exemplary if not for one thing—real faith must be expressed by real people, real pilgrims who have yet to reach the heavenly city. They are searching; they have not yet arrived. These are “heroes” not because they are perfect, but because they worked with God in his perfect work. Thus, we too are eligible for enlistment in the life of faith.

(4) Faith works in a variety of situations. It is striking that in the list of Hebrews 11 we do not have one healing, although support for that form of miracle can be found readily elsewhere in the New Testament. We have an offering, a transportation to heaven, the building of a boat, the moving of a family, the ability to have a child, obedience in offering that child back to God, the blessing of children, seeing into the future, defying an authority, the choosing of mistreatment above pleasure, the keeping of a religious ordinance, suffering persecution, and so on. Faith involves conquering in war, deliverance from animals and fire, and resurrection.

(5) Biblical faith may have a variety of outcomes as well. Notice that faith sometimes has an immediate, “positive” outcome, as when the children of Israel passed through the sea, the walls of Jericho fell, and widows received their dead back by resurrection. But we also find that faith can be rewarded with a “delayed” outcome or even a “negative” outcome. Abel still got murdered. Abraham had to wait for the son of the promise. Faith can also involve being tortured, mocked, beaten, destitute, stoned, put in prison, generally mistreated, and even mutilated. These do not fit easily into the “see all the wonderful things God wants to do in your life” gospel of modern, Western Christianity. Yet the picture is biblical. Our application of this passage must point out that faithful people sometimes do not see “results” in this life.

(6) However, faith is rewarded by God. One resounding point of Hebrews 11 is that God’s pilgrims look beyond the immediate to grasp the significance of the ultimate. Faith involves believing “that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.” One primary reward stands out in this chapter—God’s commendation (11:2, 39), his “well done” that every true believer longs to hear.

So what have we found characterizes biblical faith as depicted in Hebrews 11? What might be a definition? Faith is confidence that results in action carried out in a variety of situations by ordinary people in response to the unseen God and his promises, with various earthly outcomes but always the ultimate outcome of God’s commendation and reward. In its essence biblical faith involves people orienting their lives to God and his values against the “perceived” realities and values espoused by the world. Just as faith was applicable in a wide variety of situations during the biblical era, so our applications might be quite varied.

Those of our brothers and sisters around the world who “by faith” are facing severe persecution and death are an example to the rest of us. But we too are called to the life of faith. This means that in family life, work, education, intellect, social life, and countless other contexts we are called to reject a posture of fear and to live our lives with bold confidence in the unseen God, his Word, and his ultimate reward. Thus the life of faith—true, biblical faith—works to integrate life, and we must focus on greater realities than those easily seen with the eye, touched by the hand, or bought with financial resources.

Contemporary Significance

ON BECOMING ORDINARY “heroes.” How would you and I live today if we believed absolutely that God existed and loved us completely and had a destination for us that made all the world pale by just one square foot of its turf? How would we live if we believed that God cared about our every action and every concern and wished to reward us magnanimously for our faith? How would you and I live in the face of opposition if we believed in God, really believed as if our whole lives depended on him and his? You say, “But I do; I do believe absolutely. I believe with all I am and all I have.”

Then how would you live differently if you did not believe? Would there be much difference? This is a critical question. If all I am and have and do differs little from my unbelieving neighbor, then I have embraced his world and his values and fool myself by saying I am living for another world and kingdom values. My life must be radically different in what I embrace—the values of a heavenly kingdom. When I live “by faith,” I then will be one to whom God can bear witness and one who bears witness to God in such a way that others will be stimulated to faith. My life will portray that “faith works!” Then I will be a “hero” in the best sense of the word, for I will live a life that helps others and honors Another. Then I will be extraordinary, having chosen a narrow path.

This is not the provenance of “super Christians,” however. Do not check the “Not Applicable” box yet. As Christians we are extraordinary because of what God has done in the midst of and in spite of our spiritual dullness. Speaking of the humbling amateurishness of those with whom God works, author Annie Dillard writes:

A high school stage play is more polished than this service we have been rehearsing since the year one. In two thousand years, we have not worked out the kinks. We positively glorify them. Week after week we witness the same miracle: that God is so mighty he can stifle his own laughter. Week after week, we witness the same miracle: that God, for reasons unfathomable, refrains from blowing our dancing bear act to smithereens. Week after week Christ washes the disciples’ dirty feet, handles their very toes, and repeats, It is all right—believe it or not—to be people.31

Just a few pages later Dillard reflects on a tall Catholic priest in his sixties who, “when he knelt at the altar, and when he rose from kneeling, his knees cracked. It was a fine church music, this sound of his cracking knees.”32 So God makes his own sweet, often unappreciated music with second-hand, pawn-shop instruments cast off by the world. Only eternity will reveal their true worth, but at times even earth time gives glimpses.

Living boldly. A great and significant shift in the posture of Eastern European Christians happened during the 1970s. For years members of the underground church had met in secret, used code for communication, rarely talked on public telephones, and wrote pseudonymous essays for underground papers. Believers in Poland and Czechoslovakia decided that this posture of fear must change, so they began to live boldly, meeting openly, signing their names and addresses to articles, and handing out newspapers on street corners. They paid a price for their dissidence, such as time in jail, but they reaped a much greater reward as the infrastructure of communist ideology began to crumble before their eyes. A rag-tag group of peasants, poets, and clergy brought down a seemingly impregnable ideological fortress—by faith.33

In May 1990, the May Day Celebration was carried out in Red Square as dusk began to settle on the U.S.S.R. Myriads of troops and tanks filed through the Square in an impressive, oppressive show of force as banners and pictures of Marx, Lenin, and Engels pointed to the sky. Communist leaders watched the scene from a seemingly unapproachable platform, as the common person was held back by barricades.

Suddenly, eight men began pushing their way thorough the barricades. The police and the army tried to run over and stop them, but six of them got away and rushed between tanks to the front of the platform while Gorbachev looked down. One of them shouted, “Mikhail Sergeyevich, Christ has risen!” and lifted an 8-foot-high crucifix into the sky. And the crowd responded with a great swell, “Christ is risen, indeed!”34

A bold act. An act of faith. An act undertaken in light of the unseen but living God. The staunchest structures of the world have given way before God’s pilgrims of faith.

We are challenged by our contemporaries around the world who have lived out such public, God-honoring displays of courage. Yet the life of faith, the life of bold confidence in God, is not only the call of those forced by oppression to stand or shrink before a hostile world. God’s examples of this virtue may be found in all corners of the world and in a wide variety of circumstances.

John and Brenda Green, friends and fellow church members of mine, recently sat on their front lawn as they watched their house burn. Church people and pastors gathered around them, consoling them in their loss. John is a doctor. The home was beautiful, filled with beautiful things. As I arrived on the scene, the first thing Brenda said to me was, “George, pray for our neighbors. This is going to give us a great opportunity to witness to them.” Later, as a helper aided in cleaning up the inside of the charred and smoke-smeared interior, she commented to Brenda on the devastating loss. Brenda replied with conviction, “All we lost were material things.” For John and Brenda the kingdom and people are more important than their possessions.

Prior to the fire, a single mother from our church who has come far in her faith in the past year was living with them, a testimony to John and Brenda’s priorities. That faith has sustained them thus far through a difficult chapter of their lives. Faith is seeing beyond the smoke-clouded, hard-nosed realities of this world to a greater and lasting reality. Helen Keller once noted, “I can see … in what you call the dark, but which to me is golden. I can see a God-made world, not a man-made world.”35

By faith the director of an inner-city youth outreach program ministers to at-risk teens. By faith a missionary couple shares the gospel with Arab Muslims over a span of decades. By faith a businessman lives with integrity and openness about his relationship with Christ—and is fired by an unbelieving boss. By faith a money manager gives three-quarters of his income to the church’s work, setting a financial cap on his family’s standard of living. By faith a successful saleswoman leaves her job to enroll in seminary, believing that God has called her to the mission field. By faith a church decides to stay in a land-locked, downtown location, rather than moving to suburbia, believing God has not abandoned the residents of the downtown area. By faith these all live out their lives as if God “exists and … rewards those who earnestly seek him” (v. 6).

A “blind” and focused journey. My wife, Pat, and I just celebrated our ten-year anniversary. For our honeymoon ten years ago we were to fly into El Paso, Texas. From there we would drive up into the southern Rockies of New Mexico to my aunt’s cabin. On the day of our flight, however, El Paso (yes, El Paso, Texas!) received a record twenty-two inches of snow—a real blizzard by West Texas standards. Being unable to land because of conditions, we were taken on to Phoenix (I had gotten food poisoning the day before at a five-star restaurant and was still suffering the effect, but that is another story).

Immediately upon touching down, however, the pilot informed us that the snowstorm had stopped. He told us to stay on the jet; we were going back to El Paso. Yet by the time we got back to El Paso the storm had cranked up its white fury again, and the pilot now told us we would be landing “in almost zero visibility.” This was not comforting. The jet descended through a white, winter curtain that opened only at the last second, revealing the ghostly lights of the runway. We flew in on the instruments, and the ride was neither comfortable nor enjoyable. I do not like flying blind.

The Christian journey is a sure-but-blinded flight, brought home on the instruments of divine revelation. The blinding sin-rage and naturalistic wisdom of the age blow relentlessly against the windshield of our progress in the faith, but faith keeps a steady nose pointed to where God’s Word indicates we have a promised destination. Just as the pilot in the storm had a bold though, perhaps, tension-filled confidence in his flight plan, so the Christian lives step by steady step on a path whose Maker and end are imperceptible to an earthbound eye.

I lie awake in bed some nights listening to the night noises that play around the rooms of my semirural home in Tennessee. My wife stirs comfortably next to me; the old oak beams crack in the cold; pipes pop; a log falls in the fireplace. Occasionally a pack of coyotes ventures to our side of the cornfield across the road, tossing its unsettling, surreal yelp-barks to the sky and down through our roof upon sleepy ears. Yet, there is a sound that brings great comfort to me as I lie awake. Our gas heating unit resides in the attic on the bedroom end of the house. Suddenly, as I strain to listen for a child’s cough or an intruder’s step, the gas burner ignites with a gentle “whoosh.” Almost immediately the electric brain of the contraption clicks and begins to blow warmth throughout every cooling corner of our home. In the dead of winter I have become fairly adept at judging the temperature outside by the frequency with which the heater rumbles to life inside. The heater, mostly unseen, makes its presence ever known by surrounding my family with its radiance. Its presence rumbles in the background of my life, weaving a thread of comfort through night after dark night, as I lie awake and listen to my wife’s gentle breathing.

During these nighttime awakenings, at this stage in my life, I am tempted to hear the call of various fears: the fear that something might happen to Pat or one of the children; fear that something might happen to me, preventing me from being there for my family; fear that I might not be able to follow through on a project (like this book!); fear of evil people who oppose the gospel; fear of something going wrong at work; fear of mid-life; and so on and so forth. There is much of which to be afraid in this dark and morbid world. One session of the evening news provides ample evidence that the world has much harm to offer us as people. These fears call me to shrink back from life and, at times, from the Lifegiver. As people of faith we must not answer this call.

Although the world is dark, the presence of God rumbles in the background, blowing evidence of his presence and blessings into its every corner. It is a comforting presence, a warming against the cold night of meaninglessness, hostile selfishness, and fear that otherwise would consume us. How cold the world would be if not for the unseen God. How comforted those who know the path of faith, who have submitted themselves to the beautiful work of God in their groping lives. There really is no other way to live.

Original Meaning

Movement 2: More Examples of Faith (11:17–31)

HEBREWS 11:17–19 CONTINUES the author’s exposition on Abraham, offering a third major event exemplifying this father’s faith. Abraham, in a test by God, “offered Isaac as a sacrifice.” As an interpreter of Old Testament material in the tradition of the rabbis, the author of Hebrews draws out implications of Genesis 22:1–8, a brief narrative that had come to carry great significance in Jewish interpretation by the time of our book’s writing.14 This is the example par excellence of a magnanimous act of faith, born as it was of an excruciating decision placed before the patriarch by God. The crux of Abraham’s crisis is the seeming contradiction between the promises of God, which were to be fulfilled through his heir, Isaac (Heb. 11:18), and the command of God to sacrifice that heir (11:17). Thus Abraham was forced into a radical posture of trusting God. Our author’s logical deduction is that “Abraham reasoned that God could raise the dead” (11:19)—the only way that both the promises and the command could be fulfilled.

The author of Hebrews moves rapid-fire through the next three generations in his example list, using his formulaic pattern cited above (11:20–22). By faith Isaac offered a blessing to Jacob and Esau (Gen. 27:27–40). By faith Jacob continued the pattern, blessing the sons of Joseph, Ephraim and Manasseh (48:8–22). By faith Joseph himself spoke about the exodus from Egypt and provided instructions as to what should be done with his bones (50:24–25). In each of these events death confronted the person of faith, who spoke of things that were as yet unseen.

Moses has been presented already as a stellar example of faithfulness in 3:1–6. In that passage the author uses the lawgiver as a picture of “servant faithfulness,” who fulfilled his duty to God as leader of the Israelites. The author focused on the greatness of Moses to highlight the even greater status of Jesus as God’s faithful Son. Moses was specially venerated by Greek-speaking Jews of the first century as one who was unusually close to God. In certain expressions of Jewish tradition he was considered to be the greatest person in history.15 Therefore, it is not surprising that in his example list (11:23–28) the writer gives sustained attention to Moses.

The author’s treatment of Moses actually begins with the faith expressed by Moses’ parents (the emphasis in the Hebrew text is on Moses’ mother) when he was a baby: “By faith Moses’ parents hid him for three months after he was born, because they saw he was no ordinary child, and they were not afraid of the king’s edict.” This synopsis recounts the narrative of Exodus 2:1–4. Two points of the retelling are significant. (1) In describing the child Moses, the author of Hebrews follows the LXX in using the word asteion, a word meaning “beautiful, attractive.” The only other New Testament text to use the word is Acts 7:20, where we are told that Moses was “beautiful before God.” This probably communicates a superior quality about the child. Thus, the NIV translates Hebrews 11:23 with the phrase “no ordinary child.” The writer, therefore, depicts the parents as having spiritual insight into his significance.16

(2) As a result of this insight they directly disregarded the king’s command to drown the boy in the Nile (Ex. 1:22). The author of Hebrews states that “they were not afraid of the king’s edict,” deducing this fact from their action of hiding the child. This lack of fear does not speak to the parents’ not having the negative emotions we generally associate with fear, but rather suggests a firm boldness in which they refused to shrink before the hostility of Pharaoh.

Moses himself also exhibited such boldness, and the writer to the Hebrews points out three events from the lawgiver’s life that illustrate his faith. (1) Moses chose to identify with God’s people rather than with the godless (11:24–26). The author already has made much of the virtue of standing with those under duress because of their commitment to God (e.g., 10:32–34). Moses chose his biological family over his adoptive family at great personal cost: loss of wealth, relinquishment of status, and intense mistreatment. The author explains that he “regarded disgrace for the sake of Christ as of greater value than the treasures of Egypt.” The NIV ’s “disgrace for the sake of Christ” (lit., “disgrace of Christ”) renders the genitive tou Christou in terms of the “benefit” or “advantage” for Christ. Yet, the sense of this phrase may be understood more accurately as “the disgrace experienced by Christ.” P. E. Hughes comments:

[This disgrace] was not simply the reproach accepted by identifying himself with the people of God but, more precisely, the reproach of the coming Messiah with whom he was united by faith. Hence (as Stephen reminded his accusers) his assurance to the Israelites: “God will raise up for you a prophet from your brethren as he raised me up” (Acts 7:37); and hence, also, the rebuke of Jesus Christ to his adversaries: “If you believed Moses, you would believe me, for he wrote of me” (John 5:46).17

Thus Moses experienced the same kind of reproach experienced later by Christ—rejection faced by a prophet standing on the side of God, proclaiming the word of the Lord in boldness against an ungodly generation.

(2) By faith Moses left Egypt and persevered in the mission given him by God (11:27). This verse seems to discount Exodus 2:14, which says that Moses was afraid concerning the consequences of his act of killing the Egyptian. But the author of Hebrews wishes to emphasize the boldness of Moses’ actions rather than his negative emotion of dread. He made a decision to leave Egypt, and that step the writer understands as a step of faith. In line with his larger emphasis on endurance (e.g., 10:32, 36; 12:1–3, 7), the author notes that Moses persevered because he paid attention to the unseen God rather than to a visible king.

(3) By faith Moses led the Israelites in the observance of the Passover ordinance (11:28). The mention of “the sprinkling of blood” calls to mind the author’s earlier references to Christ’s sacrifice as paralleling the old covenant sacrificial rituals (9:12–14, 18–22). Here, however, he specifically has in mind the smearing of blood on the Israelites’ door posts to avoid the death angel’s work. This act was an act of faith since Moses led the Israelites in obedience to God’s command with regard to an as-yet-unseen event.

The author rounds out his primary example list with three other events from the life of God’s covenant people. In 11:29 he mentions briefly the crossing of the Red Sea (see Ex. 13:17–14:31). The confession that they passed through the body of water “by faith” does much to illustrate the emphasis the author puts on acts of obedience carried out in light of God’s command. This group of people, according to the Old Testament narrative, in general was marked by timidity, complaining, and a lack of trust in God or his deliverance, as the author already has detailed in Hebrews 3:7–19. However, when God told them to “move on” (Ex. 14:15) they did so, and this constituted an act exemplifying faith.18

In obedience to another seemingly illogical command, the Israelites, under the command of Joshua, marched around the city of Jericho for seven days. Their obedience was rewarded with the walls falling down (11:30).

Finally, Rahab, in accordance with God’s will, helped the spies who had come to investigate the land (Josh. 2:1–15). Her faith is expressed in her confession of 2:9 (“I know the LORD has given this land to you”) and was rewarded with deliverance from death.

Bridging Contexts

TO STAY WITH the step-by-step progression of thought in the first ten chapters of Hebrews one must remain focused, analytical, and persevering. We have followed an argument that has taken us from heaven to earth and back to heaven again in dealing with truths about God’s Son, our great high priest. Furthermore, interwoven between sections dealing with Christ’s person and work, the author has challenged his readers relentlessly with promises and warnings, good examples and bad, words of encouragement and harsh rebuke. We have trekked through beautiful but imposing theological and homiletical terrain. Now, suddenly, we have come up over a rise to find Hebrews 11 stretched before us like a lovely, powerful, rolling river, winding its way across our path.

The beauty of the author’s example list in chapter 11 draws us into a melodic and sweeping look at God’s people down through the biblical ages. The change to a new ordering of material, one that is more narrative in approach, presents a pleasing shift of pace. However, we must not allow the change or its beauty to blind us to the author’s intention for this chapter—he wishes to challenge his readers to bold living for God.

Thus far in our treatment of Hebrews 11, we have worked our way through the rather lengthy catalogue of examples. For all its length, the chapter really presents us with a simple message that must not be missed: The life of faith is the only life that pleases God. The author uses the phrase “by faith” repeatedly throughout the chapter, calling the hearers to the manner by which one must live for God. The whole point of his example list is to provide voluminous evidence that faith is the posture by which people live lives of purposeful impact by and for God. We are convinced, as the original hearers certainly must have been, that these great heroes of faith are merely representatives of a much larger host to whom God has offered commendation. Yet, it may take some doing to imagine their circumstances and accomplishment as applicable to us. This brings us to the first pitfall that must be addressed before we can apply the passage to our contemporary contexts.

Pitfall 1: “I’m no hero.” As the author of Hebrews showcases spiritual luminaries marched before us across the stage of history, there exists a danger for us as contemporary readers. These people are different from us, we may reason. After all, they are in the Bible. So of course they were able to act nobly in relation to the unseen God and in response to a hostile world! We may see ourselves, by contrast, as much too normal, or worldly, or powerless to live extraordinary lives of faith.

But if this is our perspective we miss the whole point—this life of faith is normal for the people of God. This is “mere” Christianity, as C. S. Lewis put it. The author’s whole program is to call struggling, sometimes bumbling Christians to live boldly by faith. He calls us—with all our habits and hang-ups, warts and worries—to action. We are called to step out of step with the world, hop up on the stage of history, and take our place in God’s roll call of the faithful. Of course we are inadequate; but so have been all others who have evidenced the grace of God. It would not be grace otherwise.

There are our brothers and sisters around the world, in places like Saudi Arabia, China, and Cuba, who have long been thrust into lives of conflict in which faith is a necessary tool for survival. They are forced to discover their own spiritual fortitude, many living faithfully in light of eternity, in light of the unseen God and his kingdom. Those of us in the West often have lived, by contrast, in relative comfort with what is “seen.” Why focus on the coming world when the present one seems so nice? But this state of affairs may be changing. Philip Yancey, in his potent book What’s So Amazing About Grace? writes:

The culture war is under way. Ironically, every year the church in the United States draws closer and closer to the situation faced by the New Testament church: an embattled minority living in a pluralistic, pagan society. Christians in places like Sri Lanka, Tibet, Sudan, and Saudi Arabia have faced open hostility from their governments for years. But in the United States, with a history so congenial to the faith, we don’t like it.29

Thus Hebrews 11, a text highly relevant to any believer, may have increasing relevance even for those of us in parts of the world historically congenial to Christians. We must be ready, practicing faith in the little things of bank accounts and boardrooms, if we are to honor God with greater opportunities. In whatever our situation, we must hear God’s call to join the ranks of faith examples.

Pitfall 2: Misconceptions of faith. Another of our challenges in applying this chapter to contemporary life is the work of getting past certain misconceptions of faith. Use of the term “faith” calls to mind different things for different people. Here I mention four misconceptions, the first two normally held in Christian circles, and the second two normally held in the broader culture. (1) There is faith as faith in God’s goodness to me. This expression can be found in the “health-and-wealth” corners of Christendom as well as among other, idealistic Christians, who reason that a good God can only produce good things in lives lived in a good way. To these faith only has one aim, one fruit—a life of ease, blessing, and bounty. There is, of course, truth to the claim that God wishes to bless his children, but this vision of faith comes crashing down on the rocks of reality. Certainly God is the giver of good gifts (James 1:17), but those gifts sometimes come wrapped in odd packages (James 1:2–4).

(2) At times faith is misunderstood as summed up in a faith-equals-creed approach. The New Testament does refer to “the faith” as a set of beliefs (e.g., Gal. 1:23; 1 Tim. 4:1, 6; Jude 3), but generally the concept of faith denotes something much more dynamic and active—a life lived in a trust relationship with God. This active faith certainly rests on sound belief, but it cannot be summed up by “cognitive assent” (James 2:14–26). The stance of “faith-equals-creed” remains a danger for anyone who rightly places a great deal of emphasis on doctrine.

(3) Both those sympathetic and those hostile to religion can misunderstand faith as a blind leap into the unknown.30 Many moderns, for example, misunderstand faith as the antithesis of scientific endeavor. They reason that a true scientist cannot be a person of faith, for scientists are people grounded in facts. Even those of the broader culture sympathetic to religious belief often see faith as a warm-hearted step into the black, cavernous hole of one’s hopes or dreams. “You’ve just got to have faith” most often means, “You’ve just got to act contrary to all that you know to be true and trust that things are going to work out the way you want them to.”

(4) Still others understand faith as a life of reflective devotion to any god one happens to follow. “She is a person of deep faith” may be applied to a follower of Buddha, Krishna, or Christ. Thus, faith is seen as fairly synonymous with spirituality. In contradistinction to the faith-equals-creed approach, this definition of faith suggests that a particular set of beliefs is in essence unimportant. What matters is a sincerity and, perhaps, a commitment that transforms the individual into a more purposeful, loving person.

But none of these approaches to faith—faith as God’s goodness to me, faith as creed, faith as a blind leap, and faith as reflective devotion—does justice to the dynamic, challenging portrait of authentic Christian faith as presented in Hebrews 11. This picture, when carefully analyzed, eclipses the false visions of faith detailed above, showing them to be inadequate.

Faith as “defined” by Hebrews 11. As portrayed in the lives of God’s faithful through the ages, (1) faith involves confident action. Most of the examples delineated in Hebrews 11 involve a person acting confidently in accordance with what God says. By faith Abel offered to God a superior sacrifice, Noah built an ark, Abraham obeyed by leaving familiar territory and later by offering Isaac, Isaac blessed his sons, and one of those sons blessed Isaac’s great-grandsons, and on the list goes. The author spits out action words in rapid succession in verses 32–34: they conquered, administered, gained, shut, quenched, escaped, became powerful, and routed. Faith acts out a bold confidence.

(2) True faith is action taken in response to the unseen God and his promises. Faith, rather than merely static belief or cognitive assent, spurs one to act in accordance with God’s truth. Its boldness, however, seems especially to do with the fact that these great people of faith are backed up by the Unseen. They step forward with eyebrow-raising tenacity and confidence and with no perceptible reason for doing so. But God has spoken. God has manifested himself, and this is reason enough. Therefore, we too are called to an active, confident faith that finds its reason in the unseen God. If we have faith of another stripe, we need to reevaluate our “faith.”

(3) Faith involves God’s working extraordinary miracles in the lives of ordinary people. We call the example list of Hebrews 11 the “Hall of Faith” and think of these inductees as especially heroic. Yet if we stop and reflect for a moment, we realize that there is much about those on the list that was less than admirable. Noah, for example, got drunk and lay naked in his tent; Abraham lied about Sarah; Isaac lied about Rebekah; Jacob was a deceiver; Moses committed murder; the people of Israel were a bunch of ungrateful grumblers, Gideon a doubter, and David an adulterer. We may think that the author of Hebrews is stretching things a bit in holding these people up as exemplary if not for one thing—real faith must be expressed by real people, real pilgrims who have yet to reach the heavenly city. They are searching; they have not yet arrived. These are “heroes” not because they are perfect, but because they worked with God in his perfect work. Thus, we too are eligible for enlistment in the life of faith.

(4) Faith works in a variety of situations. It is striking that in the list of Hebrews 11 we do not have one healing, although support for that form of miracle can be found readily elsewhere in the New Testament. We have an offering, a transportation to heaven, the building of a boat, the moving of a family, the ability to have a child, obedience in offering that child back to God, the blessing of children, seeing into the future, defying an authority, the choosing of mistreatment above pleasure, the keeping of a religious ordinance, suffering persecution, and so on. Faith involves conquering in war, deliverance from animals and fire, and resurrection.

(5) Biblical faith may have a variety of outcomes as well. Notice that faith sometimes has an immediate, “positive” outcome, as when the children of Israel passed through the sea, the walls of Jericho fell, and widows received their dead back by resurrection. But we also find that faith can be rewarded with a “delayed” outcome or even a “negative” outcome. Abel still got murdered. Abraham had to wait for the son of the promise. Faith can also involve being tortured, mocked, beaten, destitute, stoned, put in prison, generally mistreated, and even mutilated. These do not fit easily into the “see all the wonderful things God wants to do in your life” gospel of modern, Western Christianity. Yet the picture is biblical. Our application of this passage must point out that faithful people sometimes do not see “results” in this life.

(6) However, faith is rewarded by God. One resounding point of Hebrews 11 is that God’s pilgrims look beyond the immediate to grasp the significance of the ultimate. Faith involves believing “that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.” One primary reward stands out in this chapter—God’s commendation (11:2, 39), his “well done” that every true believer longs to hear.

So what have we found characterizes biblical faith as depicted in Hebrews 11? What might be a definition? Faith is confidence that results in action carried out in a variety of situations by ordinary people in response to the unseen God and his promises, with various earthly outcomes but always the ultimate outcome of God’s commendation and reward. In its essence biblical faith involves people orienting their lives to God and his values against the “perceived” realities and values espoused by the world. Just as faith was applicable in a wide variety of situations during the biblical era, so our applications might be quite varied.

Those of our brothers and sisters around the world who “by faith” are facing severe persecution and death are an example to the rest of us. But we too are called to the life of faith. This means that in family life, work, education, intellect, social life, and countless other contexts we are called to reject a posture of fear and to live our lives with bold confidence in the unseen God, his Word, and his ultimate reward. Thus the life of faith—true, biblical faith—works to integrate life, and we must focus on greater realities than those easily seen with the eye, touched by the hand, or bought with financial resources.

Contemporary Significance

ON BECOMING ORDINARY “heroes.” How would you and I live today if we believed absolutely that God existed and loved us completely and had a destination for us that made all the world pale by just one square foot of its turf? How would we live if we believed that God cared about our every action and every concern and wished to reward us magnanimously for our faith? How would you and I live in the face of opposition if we believed in God, really believed as if our whole lives depended on him and his? You say, “But I do; I do believe absolutely. I believe with all I am and all I have.”

Then how would you live differently if you did not believe? Would there be much difference? This is a critical question. If all I am and have and do differs little from my unbelieving neighbor, then I have embraced his world and his values and fool myself by saying I am living for another world and kingdom values. My life must be radically different in what I embrace—the values of a heavenly kingdom. When I live “by faith,” I then will be one to whom God can bear witness and one who bears witness to God in such a way that others will be stimulated to faith. My life will portray that “faith works!” Then I will be a “hero” in the best sense of the word, for I will live a life that helps others and honors Another. Then I will be extraordinary, having chosen a narrow path.

This is not the provenance of “super Christians,” however. Do not check the “Not Applicable” box yet. As Christians we are extraordinary because of what God has done in the midst of and in spite of our spiritual dullness. Speaking of the humbling amateurishness of those with whom God works, author Annie Dillard writes:

A high school stage play is more polished than this service we have been rehearsing since the year one. In two thousand years, we have not worked out the kinks. We positively glorify them. Week after week we witness the same miracle: that God is so mighty he can stifle his own laughter. Week after week, we witness the same miracle: that God, for reasons unfathomable, refrains from blowing our dancing bear act to smithereens. Week after week Christ washes the disciples’ dirty feet, handles their very toes, and repeats, It is all right—believe it or not—to be people.31

Just a few pages later Dillard reflects on a tall Catholic priest in his sixties who, “when he knelt at the altar, and when he rose from kneeling, his knees cracked. It was a fine church music, this sound of his cracking knees.”32 So God makes his own sweet, often unappreciated music with second-hand, pawn-shop instruments cast off by the world. Only eternity will reveal their true worth, but at times even earth time gives glimpses.

Living boldly. A great and significant shift in the posture of Eastern European Christians happened during the 1970s. For years members of the underground church had met in secret, used code for communication, rarely talked on public telephones, and wrote pseudonymous essays for underground papers. Believers in Poland and Czechoslovakia decided that this posture of fear must change, so they began to live boldly, meeting openly, signing their names and addresses to articles, and handing out newspapers on street corners. They paid a price for their dissidence, such as time in jail, but they reaped a much greater reward as the infrastructure of communist ideology began to crumble before their eyes. A rag-tag group of peasants, poets, and clergy brought down a seemingly impregnable ideological fortress—by faith.33

In May 1990, the May Day Celebration was carried out in Red Square as dusk began to settle on the U.S.S.R. Myriads of troops and tanks filed through the Square in an impressive, oppressive show of force as banners and pictures of Marx, Lenin, and Engels pointed to the sky. Communist leaders watched the scene from a seemingly unapproachable platform, as the common person was held back by barricades.

Suddenly, eight men began pushing their way thorough the barricades. The police and the army tried to run over and stop them, but six of them got away and rushed between tanks to the front of the platform while Gorbachev looked down. One of them shouted, “Mikhail Sergeyevich, Christ has risen!” and lifted an 8-foot-high crucifix into the sky. And the crowd responded with a great swell, “Christ is risen, indeed!”34

A bold act. An act of faith. An act undertaken in light of the unseen but living God. The staunchest structures of the world have given way before God’s pilgrims of faith.

We are challenged by our contemporaries around the world who have lived out such public, God-honoring displays of courage. Yet the life of faith, the life of bold confidence in God, is not only the call of those forced by oppression to stand or shrink before a hostile world. God’s examples of this virtue may be found in all corners of the world and in a wide variety of circumstances.

John and Brenda Green, friends and fellow church members of mine, recently sat on their front lawn as they watched their house burn. Church people and pastors gathered around them, consoling them in their loss. John is a doctor. The home was beautiful, filled with beautiful things. As I arrived on the scene, the first thing Brenda said to me was, “George, pray for our neighbors. This is going to give us a great opportunity to witness to them.” Later, as a helper aided in cleaning up the inside of the charred and smoke-smeared interior, she commented to Brenda on the devastating loss. Brenda replied with conviction, “All we lost were material things.” For John and Brenda the kingdom and people are more important than their possessions.

Prior to the fire, a single mother from our church who has come far in her faith in the past year was living with them, a testimony to John and Brenda’s priorities. That faith has sustained them thus far through a difficult chapter of their lives. Faith is seeing beyond the smoke-clouded, hard-nosed realities of this world to a greater and lasting reality. Helen Keller once noted, “I can see … in what you call the dark, but which to me is golden. I can see a God-made world, not a man-made world.”35

By faith the director of an inner-city youth outreach program ministers to at-risk teens. By faith a missionary couple shares the gospel with Arab Muslims over a span of decades. By faith a businessman lives with integrity and openness about his relationship with Christ—and is fired by an unbelieving boss. By faith a money manager gives three-quarters of his income to the church’s work, setting a financial cap on his family’s standard of living. By faith a successful saleswoman leaves her job to enroll in seminary, believing that God has called her to the mission field. By faith a church decides to stay in a land-locked, downtown location, rather than moving to suburbia, believing God has not abandoned the residents of the downtown area. By faith these all live out their lives as if God “exists and … rewards those who earnestly seek him” (v. 6).

A “blind” and focused journey. My wife, Pat, and I just celebrated our ten-year anniversary. For our honeymoon ten years ago we were to fly into El Paso, Texas. From there we would drive up into the southern Rockies of New Mexico to my aunt’s cabin. On the day of our flight, however, El Paso (yes, El Paso, Texas!) received a record twenty-two inches of snow—a real blizzard by West Texas standards. Being unable to land because of conditions, we were taken on to Phoenix (I had gotten food poisoning the day before at a five-star restaurant and was still suffering the effect, but that is another story).

Immediately upon touching down, however, the pilot informed us that the snowstorm had stopped. He told us to stay on the jet; we were going back to El Paso. Yet by the time we got back to El Paso the storm had cranked up its white fury again, and the pilot now told us we would be landing “in almost zero visibility.” This was not comforting. The jet descended through a white, winter curtain that opened only at the last second, revealing the ghostly lights of the runway. We flew in on the instruments, and the ride was neither comfortable nor enjoyable. I do not like flying blind.

The Christian journey is a sure-but-blinded flight, brought home on the instruments of divine revelation. The blinding sin-rage and naturalistic wisdom of the age blow relentlessly against the windshield of our progress in the faith, but faith keeps a steady nose pointed to where God’s Word indicates we have a promised destination. Just as the pilot in the storm had a bold though, perhaps, tension-filled confidence in his flight plan, so the Christian lives step by steady step on a path whose Maker and end are imperceptible to an earthbound eye.

I lie awake in bed some nights listening to the night noises that play around the rooms of my semirural home in Tennessee. My wife stirs comfortably next to me; the old oak beams crack in the cold; pipes pop; a log falls in the fireplace. Occasionally a pack of coyotes ventures to our side of the cornfield across the road, tossing its unsettling, surreal yelp-barks to the sky and down through our roof upon sleepy ears. Yet, there is a sound that brings great comfort to me as I lie awake. Our gas heating unit resides in the attic on the bedroom end of the house. Suddenly, as I strain to listen for a child’s cough or an intruder’s step, the gas burner ignites with a gentle “whoosh.” Almost immediately the electric brain of the contraption clicks and begins to blow warmth throughout every cooling corner of our home. In the dead of winter I have become fairly adept at judging the temperature outside by the frequency with which the heater rumbles to life inside. The heater, mostly unseen, makes its presence ever known by surrounding my family with its radiance. Its presence rumbles in the background of my life, weaving a thread of comfort through night after dark night, as I lie awake and listen to my wife’s gentle breathing.

During these nighttime awakenings, at this stage in my life, I am tempted to hear the call of various fears: the fear that something might happen to Pat or one of the children; fear that something might happen to me, preventing me from being there for my family; fear that I might not be able to follow through on a project (like this book!); fear of evil people who oppose the gospel; fear of something going wrong at work; fear of mid-life; and so on and so forth. There is much of which to be afraid in this dark and morbid world. One session of the evening news provides ample evidence that the world has much harm to offer us as people. These fears call me to shrink back from life and, at times, from the Lifegiver. As people of faith we must not answer this call.

Although the world is dark, the presence of God rumbles in the background, blowing evidence of his presence and blessings into its every corner. It is a comforting presence, a warming against the cold night of meaninglessness, hostile selfishness, and fear that otherwise would consume us. How cold the world would be if not for the unseen God. How comforted those who know the path of faith, who have submitted themselves to the beautiful work of God in their groping lives. There really is no other way to live.

Original Meaning

Crescendo and Conclusion (11:32–40)

THE AUTHOR REALIZES that time constraints do not permit him to continue a detailed account of old covenant men and women of faith.19 So, with the rhetorical “and what more shall I say?” he turns a corner, finishing the section with what one commentator calls a “sledge-hammer style”20 summary of Old Testament and, perhaps, intertestamental acts of faith.

The writer begins his summary with six figures spanning the era of the judges through the united monarchy, and to these adds the expansive “the prophets.” Many commentators note that the six names are not listed in chronological order, since the author, rather, intends to provide random examples of valor in the face of great challenges.21 Presumably he hoped to prompt his audience to think of memorable events behind these names. The list of mighty deeds that follows would call to mind a whole host of those who lived faithfully before God in a hostile world. This is the intention of an example list—to provide a sample of people and events that point to a much larger body of data that can be brought to bear on a given subject—and the author brings his list to a crescendo with enviable skill.

Gideon, of course, serves as a powerful example of faith, since he and his three hundred select men routed the massive Midianite army with torches and empty jars (Judg. 7:7–25). Barak, a military leader who served under Deborah, led Israel in a defeat of Sisera and the Canaanites (4:8–16). Samson, in spite of his vices, served as a great champion of the Israelites during a period of Philistine oppression (13:1–16:31), and Jephthah, in spite of his foolish, horrific vow, led in the defeat of the Amorites and Ammonites (10:6–12:7). Samuel serves as somewhat a bridge-figure between the time of the judges and the united monarchy,22 with his great commitment and sensitivity to God’s laying the foundation for the monarchy’s golden years. David (the only king named), although having his own faults and grievous sins, lived a life of devotion to God, performing outstanding acts for God. Finally, the author of Hebrews mentions “the prophets,” presenting a host of stellar figures who, by their words and deeds, lived for the unseen God in mostly hostile circumstances.

The passage now turns from the great “performers” of faith to their actions (11:33–38). They “through faith conquered kingdoms,” especially calling to mind the period of the judges through the reign of King David. That they “administered justice” speaks of governmental administration and is an extension of their conquering. As God’s servants they carried out his justice and righteousness to the people under their rule (e.g., 2 Sam. 8:15; 1 Kings 10:9).

These saints of old “gained what was promised,” an affirmation that can be interpreted as their reception of the promises themselves or as their reception of the fulfillment of those promises. From the context it would seem that the emphasis lies on God’s giving them promises, some of which were not fulfilled in the receptor’s lifetime (cf. 11:39).23 Nevertheless, the covenant promises to Abraham’s children, such as the Promised Land and the promise of God’s abiding presence with his people, are certainly in view. The author’s twin points are that the promise-making God is faithful to his oaths, and that people of faith live in light of God’s promises. With this confession the author echoes his earlier treatment of God’s oaths in 6:13–20.

These great heroes of the faith, moreover, “shut the mouths of lions,” an obvious reference to that great exemplar Daniel, of whom it was written, “no wound was found on him, because he had trusted in his God” (Dan. 6:23). Daniel’s associates, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, who were cast into the furnace because of their stubborn refusal to serve false gods, “quenched the fury of the flames” (3:16–30). Several prophets, including Elijah, Elisha, and Jeremiah, “escaped the edge of the sword.”

There were many others “whose weakness was turned to strength; and who became powerful in battle and routed foreign armies.” One thinks, for example, of the boy David facing Goliath, or of Gideon, a most unimpressive figure of his day; nevertheless, God used both as instruments of power and victory. The author may also have in mind the Maccabees, who, during our author’s time, were considered among the greatest of military heroes of history. Even death could not stop the work of God on behalf of his people, for women such as the poor widow of Zarephath and the woman of Shunem received their sons back from the dead by the hands of Elijah and Elisha respectively (1 Kings 17:17–24; 2 Kings 4:17–37).

In the middle of verse 35 the writer to the Hebrews shifts gears from more positive outcomes encountered by faith to faith expressed in the face of great hardship. Although some experienced resurrection, others expressed faith by embracing torture and death, refusing deliverance in light of a greater reward beyond the grave. F. F. Bruce, for example, points to the account of Eleazar of the Maccabean period, who chose death over disloyalty to God (2 Macc. 6:19, 28). He also refers to the story of a mother and her seven sons who spoke eloquently of the afterlife even while being tortured to death (2 Macc. 7:1–41; 4 Macc. 8:1–17:24).24 It could have been said of many throughout the era of the prophets, the intertestamental period, and even the New Testament era that they “faced jeers and flogging while still others were chained and put in prison.” The author has already stated these uncomfortable circumstances had occurred among those in the community to which he is writing (Heb. 10:32–34).

Still others “were stoned” (e.g., Jeremiah, according to tradition), “sawed in two” (the fate of Isaiah, according to tradition), or “put to death by the sword.” When the author speaks of those who wore “sheepskins and goatskins,” who were “destitute, persecuted and mistreated,” wandering “in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground” (11:37–38), he may be referring to prophets such as Elijah, Elisha, and Ezekiel, as suggested by Clement of Rome (1 Clement 17:1). But these words also describe the Jews persecuted under Antiochus IV Epiphanes during the Maccabean revolt.25 By its rejection of such great figures of faith, the world condemned itself as unworthy of those who live for an eternal reward (11:38).

The author concludes his example list with a fitting epilogue (11:39–40), contrasting these great exemplars of faith, who were commended by God, with the new covenant community. The wording of verse 39 echoes that of 11:2, forming an inclusio that marks the beginning and ending of the passage.26 When the author notes that the great heroes of faith “were commended by God,” he means that God himself had born witness to their faithfulness. They had faced a plethora of trials, tortures, and tests and, therefore, paralleled the challenging experiences of the recipients of this book, who, however, had yet to experience martyrdom (12:4). Moreover, by living out faith in the unseen God these men and women of history had established themselves as appropriate examples for the hearers, who were now being faced with choosing the path of faith or the alternative, the path of faithlessness.

The author’s main point through his example list is that faith is the only right path for God’s people. The heroes of faith demonstrate a resolute determination to live faithfully even though “none of them received what was promised.” True, the author has mentioned that some indeed did receive certain promises (11:11, 33), but his point here is that they did not receive “the definitive fulfillment of God’s promise,” that is, the eternal inheritance known through the new covenant established by Christ.27

When the author says that “God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect” (v. 40), he means that historically these people of old did not experience the coming of Messiah and the new covenant. Yet now they are made “perfect,” seeing that the great community of faith that had lived for God throughout history has been “brought to fulfillment” or “to a desired goal.”28 Their faith in God has been vindicated since God has broken into the world in the person of his Son, Jesus Christ. With us they now know the perfecting power of Christ’s sacrifice and the eternal inheritance of the saints.

Bridging Contexts

TO STAY WITH the step-by-step progression of thought in the first ten chapters of Hebrews one must remain focused, analytical, and persevering. We have followed an argument that has taken us from heaven to earth and back to heaven again in dealing with truths about God’s Son, our great high priest. Furthermore, interwoven between sections dealing with Christ’s person and work, the author has challenged his readers relentlessly with promises and warnings, good examples and bad, words of encouragement and harsh rebuke. We have trekked through beautiful but imposing theological and homiletical terrain. Now, suddenly, we have come up over a rise to find Hebrews 11 stretched before us like a lovely, powerful, rolling river, winding its way across our path.

The beauty of the author’s example list in chapter 11 draws us into a melodic and sweeping look at God’s people down through the biblical ages. The change to a new ordering of material, one that is more narrative in approach, presents a pleasing shift of pace. However, we must not allow the change or its beauty to blind us to the author’s intention for this chapter—he wishes to challenge his readers to bold living for God.

Thus far in our treatment of Hebrews 11, we have worked our way through the rather lengthy catalogue of examples. For all its length, the chapter really presents us with a simple message that must not be missed: The life of faith is the only life that pleases God. The author uses the phrase “by faith” repeatedly throughout the chapter, calling the hearers to the manner by which one must live for God. The whole point of his example list is to provide voluminous evidence that faith is the posture by which people live lives of purposeful impact by and for God. We are convinced, as the original hearers certainly must have been, that these great heroes of faith are merely representatives of a much larger host to whom God has offered commendation. Yet, it may take some doing to imagine their circumstances and accomplishment as applicable to us. This brings us to the first pitfall that must be addressed before we can apply the passage to our contemporary contexts.

Pitfall 1: “I’m no hero.” As the author of Hebrews showcases spiritual luminaries marched before us across the stage of history, there exists a danger for us as contemporary readers. These people are different from us, we may reason. After all, they are in the Bible. So of course they were able to act nobly in relation to the unseen God and in response to a hostile world! We may see ourselves, by contrast, as much too normal, or worldly, or powerless to live extraordinary lives of faith.

But if this is our perspective we miss the whole point—this life of faith is normal for the people of God. This is “mere” Christianity, as C. S. Lewis put it. The author’s whole program is to call struggling, sometimes bumbling Christians to live boldly by faith. He calls us—with all our habits and hang-ups, warts and worries—to action. We are called to step out of step with the world, hop up on the stage of history, and take our place in God’s roll call of the faithful. Of course we are inadequate; but so have been all others who have evidenced the grace of God. It would not be grace otherwise.

There are our brothers and sisters around the world, in places like Saudi Arabia, China, and Cuba, who have long been thrust into lives of conflict in which faith is a necessary tool for survival. They are forced to discover their own spiritual fortitude, many living faithfully in light of eternity, in light of the unseen God and his kingdom. Those of us in the West often have lived, by contrast, in relative comfort with what is “seen.” Why focus on the coming world when the present one seems so nice? But this state of affairs may be changing. Philip Yancey, in his potent book What’s So Amazing About Grace? writes:

The culture war is under way. Ironically, every year the church in the United States draws closer and closer to the situation faced by the New Testament church: an embattled minority living in a pluralistic, pagan society. Christians in places like Sri Lanka, Tibet, Sudan, and Saudi Arabia have faced open hostility from their governments for years. But in the United States, with a history so congenial to the faith, we don’t like it.29

Thus Hebrews 11, a text highly relevant to any believer, may have increasing relevance even for those of us in parts of the world historically congenial to Christians. We must be ready, practicing faith in the little things of bank accounts and boardrooms, if we are to honor God with greater opportunities. In whatever our situation, we must hear God’s call to join the ranks of faith examples.

Pitfall 2: Misconceptions of faith. Another of our challenges in applying this chapter to contemporary life is the work of getting past certain misconceptions of faith. Use of the term “faith” calls to mind different things for different people. Here I mention four misconceptions, the first two normally held in Christian circles, and the second two normally held in the broader culture. (1) There is faith as faith in God’s goodness to me. This expression can be found in the “health-and-wealth” corners of Christendom as well as among other, idealistic Christians, who reason that a good God can only produce good things in lives lived in a good way. To these faith only has one aim, one fruit—a life of ease, blessing, and bounty. There is, of course, truth to the claim that God wishes to bless his children, but this vision of faith comes crashing down on the rocks of reality. Certainly God is the giver of good gifts (James 1:17), but those gifts sometimes come wrapped in odd packages (James 1:2–4).

(2) At times faith is misunderstood as summed up in a faith-equals-creed approach. The New Testament does refer to “the faith” as a set of beliefs (e.g., Gal. 1:23; 1 Tim. 4:1, 6; Jude 3), but generally the concept of faith denotes something much more dynamic and active—a life lived in a trust relationship with God. This active faith certainly rests on sound belief, but it cannot be summed up by “cognitive assent” (James 2:14–26). The stance of “faith-equals-creed” remains a danger for anyone who rightly places a great deal of emphasis on doctrine.

(3) Both those sympathetic and those hostile to religion can misunderstand faith as a blind leap into the unknown.30 Many moderns, for example, misunderstand faith as the antithesis of scientific endeavor. They reason that a true scientist cannot be a person of faith, for scientists are people grounded in facts. Even those of the broader culture sympathetic to religious belief often see faith as a warm-hearted step into the black, cavernous hole of one’s hopes or dreams. “You’ve just got to have faith” most often means, “You’ve just got to act contrary to all that you know to be true and trust that things are going to work out the way you want them to.”

(4) Still others understand faith as a life of reflective devotion to any god one happens to follow. “She is a person of deep faith” may be applied to a follower of Buddha, Krishna, or Christ. Thus, faith is seen as fairly synonymous with spirituality. In contradistinction to the faith-equals-creed approach, this definition of faith suggests that a particular set of beliefs is in essence unimportant. What matters is a sincerity and, perhaps, a commitment that transforms the individual into a more purposeful, loving person.

But none of these approaches to faith—faith as God’s goodness to me, faith as creed, faith as a blind leap, and faith as reflective devotion—does justice to the dynamic, challenging portrait of authentic Christian faith as presented in Hebrews 11. This picture, when carefully analyzed, eclipses the false visions of faith detailed above, showing them to be inadequate.

Faith as “defined” by Hebrews 11. As portrayed in the lives of God’s faithful through the ages, (1) faith involves confident action. Most of the examples delineated in Hebrews 11 involve a person acting confidently in accordance with what God says. By faith Abel offered to God a superior sacrifice, Noah built an ark, Abraham obeyed by leaving familiar territory and later by offering Isaac, Isaac blessed his sons, and one of those sons blessed Isaac’s great-grandsons, and on the list goes. The author spits out action words in rapid succession in verses 32–34: they conquered, administered, gained, shut, quenched, escaped, became powerful, and routed. Faith acts out a bold confidence.

(2) True faith is action taken in response to the unseen God and his promises. Faith, rather than merely static belief or cognitive assent, spurs one to act in accordance with God’s truth. Its boldness, however, seems especially to do with the fact that these great people of faith are backed up by the Unseen. They step forward with eyebrow-raising tenacity and confidence and with no perceptible reason for doing so. But God has spoken. God has manifested himself, and this is reason enough. Therefore, we too are called to an active, confident faith that finds its reason in the unseen God. If we have faith of another stripe, we need to reevaluate our “faith.”

(3) Faith involves God’s working extraordinary miracles in the lives of ordinary people. We call the example list of Hebrews 11 the “Hall of Faith” and think of these inductees as especially heroic. Yet if we stop and reflect for a moment, we realize that there is much about those on the list that was less than admirable. Noah, for example, got drunk and lay naked in his tent; Abraham lied about Sarah; Isaac lied about Rebekah; Jacob was a deceiver; Moses committed murder; the people of Israel were a bunch of ungrateful grumblers, Gideon a doubter, and David an adulterer. We may think that the author of Hebrews is stretching things a bit in holding these people up as exemplary if not for one thing—real faith must be expressed by real people, real pilgrims who have yet to reach the heavenly city. They are searching; they have not yet arrived. These are “heroes” not because they are perfect, but because they worked with God in his perfect work. Thus, we too are eligible for enlistment in the life of faith.

(4) Faith works in a variety of situations. It is striking that in the list of Hebrews 11 we do not have one healing, although support for that form of miracle can be found readily elsewhere in the New Testament. We have an offering, a transportation to heaven, the building of a boat, the moving of a family, the ability to have a child, obedience in offering that child back to God, the blessing of children, seeing into the future, defying an authority, the choosing of mistreatment above pleasure, the keeping of a religious ordinance, suffering persecution, and so on. Faith involves conquering in war, deliverance from animals and fire, and resurrection.

(5) Biblical faith may have a variety of outcomes as well. Notice that faith sometimes has an immediate, “positive” outcome, as when the children of Israel passed through the sea, the walls of Jericho fell, and widows received their dead back by resurrection. But we also find that faith can be rewarded with a “delayed” outcome or even a “negative” outcome. Abel still got murdered. Abraham had to wait for the son of the promise. Faith can also involve being tortured, mocked, beaten, destitute, stoned, put in prison, generally mistreated, and even mutilated. These do not fit easily into the “see all the wonderful things God wants to do in your life” gospel of modern, Western Christianity. Yet the picture is biblical. Our application of this passage must point out that faithful people sometimes do not see “results” in this life.

(6) However, faith is rewarded by God. One resounding point of Hebrews 11 is that God’s pilgrims look beyond the immediate to grasp the significance of the ultimate. Faith involves believing “that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.” One primary reward stands out in this chapter—God’s commendation (11:2, 39), his “well done” that every true believer longs to hear.

So what have we found characterizes biblical faith as depicted in Hebrews 11? What might be a definition? Faith is confidence that results in action carried out in a variety of situations by ordinary people in response to the unseen God and his promises, with various earthly outcomes but always the ultimate outcome of God’s commendation and reward. In its essence biblical faith involves people orienting their lives to God and his values against the “perceived” realities and values espoused by the world. Just as faith was applicable in a wide variety of situations during the biblical era, so our applications might be quite varied.

Those of our brothers and sisters around the world who “by faith” are facing severe persecution and death are an example to the rest of us. But we too are called to the life of faith. This means that in family life, work, education, intellect, social life, and countless other contexts we are called to reject a posture of fear and to live our lives with bold confidence in the unseen God, his Word, and his ultimate reward. Thus the life of faith—true, biblical faith—works to integrate life, and we must focus on greater realities than those easily seen with the eye, touched by the hand, or bought with financial resources.

Contemporary Significance

ON BECOMING ORDINARY “heroes.” How would you and I live today if we believed absolutely that God existed and loved us completely and had a destination for us that made all the world pale by just one square foot of its turf? How would we live if we believed that God cared about our every action and every concern and wished to reward us magnanimously for our faith? How would you and I live in the face of opposition if we believed in God, really believed as if our whole lives depended on him and his? You say, “But I do; I do believe absolutely. I believe with all I am and all I have.”

Then how would you live differently if you did not believe? Would there be much difference? This is a critical question. If all I am and have and do differs little from my unbelieving neighbor, then I have embraced his world and his values and fool myself by saying I am living for another world and kingdom values. My life must be radically different in what I embrace—the values of a heavenly kingdom. When I live “by faith,” I then will be one to whom God can bear witness and one who bears witness to God in such a way that others will be stimulated to faith. My life will portray that “faith works!” Then I will be a “hero” in the best sense of the word, for I will live a life that helps others and honors Another. Then I will be extraordinary, having chosen a narrow path.

This is not the provenance of “super Christians,” however. Do not check the “Not Applicable” box yet. As Christians we are extraordinary because of what God has done in the midst of and in spite of our spiritual dullness. Speaking of the humbling amateurishness of those with whom God works, author Annie Dillard writes:

A high school stage play is more polished than this service we have been rehearsing since the year one. In two thousand years, we have not worked out the kinks. We positively glorify them. Week after week we witness the same miracle: that God is so mighty he can stifle his own laughter. Week after week, we witness the same miracle: that God, for reasons unfathomable, refrains from blowing our dancing bear act to smithereens. Week after week Christ washes the disciples’ dirty feet, handles their very toes, and repeats, It is all right—believe it or not—to be people.31

Just a few pages later Dillard reflects on a tall Catholic priest in his sixties who, “when he knelt at the altar, and when he rose from kneeling, his knees cracked. It was a fine church music, this sound of his cracking knees.”32 So God makes his own sweet, often unappreciated music with second-hand, pawn-shop instruments cast off by the world. Only eternity will reveal their true worth, but at times even earth time gives glimpses.

Living boldly. A great and significant shift in the posture of Eastern European Christians happened during the 1970s. For years members of the underground church had met in secret, used code for communication, rarely talked on public telephones, and wrote pseudonymous essays for underground papers. Believers in Poland and Czechoslovakia decided that this posture of fear must change, so they began to live boldly, meeting openly, signing their names and addresses to articles, and handing out newspapers on street corners. They paid a price for their dissidence, such as time in jail, but they reaped a much greater reward as the infrastructure of communist ideology began to crumble before their eyes. A rag-tag group of peasants, poets, and clergy brought down a seemingly impregnable ideological fortress—by faith.33

In May 1990, the May Day Celebration was carried out in Red Square as dusk began to settle on the U.S.S.R. Myriads of troops and tanks filed through the Square in an impressive, oppressive show of force as banners and pictures of Marx, Lenin, and Engels pointed to the sky. Communist leaders watched the scene from a seemingly unapproachable platform, as the common person was held back by barricades.

Suddenly, eight men began pushing their way thorough the barricades. The police and the army tried to run over and stop them, but six of them got away and rushed between tanks to the front of the platform while Gorbachev looked down. One of them shouted, “Mikhail Sergeyevich, Christ has risen!” and lifted an 8-foot-high crucifix into the sky. And the crowd responded with a great swell, “Christ is risen, indeed!”34

A bold act. An act of faith. An act undertaken in light of the unseen but living God. The staunchest structures of the world have given way before God’s pilgrims of faith.

We are challenged by our contemporaries around the world who have lived out such public, God-honoring displays of courage. Yet the life of faith, the life of bold confidence in God, is not only the call of those forced by oppression to stand or shrink before a hostile world. God’s examples of this virtue may be found in all corners of the world and in a wide variety of circumstances.

John and Brenda Green, friends and fellow church members of mine, recently sat on their front lawn as they watched their house burn. Church people and pastors gathered around them, consoling them in their loss. John is a doctor. The home was beautiful, filled with beautiful things. As I arrived on the scene, the first thing Brenda said to me was, “George, pray for our neighbors. This is going to give us a great opportunity to witness to them.” Later, as a helper aided in cleaning up the inside of the charred and smoke-smeared interior, she commented to Brenda on the devastating loss. Brenda replied with conviction, “All we lost were material things.” For John and Brenda the kingdom and people are more important than their possessions.

Prior to the fire, a single mother from our church who has come far in her faith in the past year was living with them, a testimony to John and Brenda’s priorities. That faith has sustained them thus far through a difficult chapter of their lives. Faith is seeing beyond the smoke-clouded, hard-nosed realities of this world to a greater and lasting reality. Helen Keller once noted, “I can see … in what you call the dark, but which to me is golden. I can see a God-made world, not a man-made world.”35

By faith the director of an inner-city youth outreach program ministers to at-risk teens. By faith a missionary couple shares the gospel with Arab Muslims over a span of decades. By faith a businessman lives with integrity and openness about his relationship with Christ—and is fired by an unbelieving boss. By faith a money manager gives three-quarters of his income to the church’s work, setting a financial cap on his family’s standard of living. By faith a successful saleswoman leaves her job to enroll in seminary, believing that God has called her to the mission field. By faith a church decides to stay in a land-locked, downtown location, rather than moving to suburbia, believing God has not abandoned the residents of the downtown area. By faith these all live out their lives as if God “exists and … rewards those who earnestly seek him” (v. 6).

A “blind” and focused journey. My wife, Pat, and I just celebrated our ten-year anniversary. For our honeymoon ten years ago we were to fly into El Paso, Texas. From there we would drive up into the southern Rockies of New Mexico to my aunt’s cabin. On the day of our flight, however, El Paso (yes, El Paso, Texas!) received a record twenty-two inches of snow—a real blizzard by West Texas standards. Being unable to land because of conditions, we were taken on to Phoenix (I had gotten food poisoning the day before at a five-star restaurant and was still suffering the effect, but that is another story).

Immediately upon touching down, however, the pilot informed us that the snowstorm had stopped. He told us to stay on the jet; we were going back to El Paso. Yet by the time we got back to El Paso the storm had cranked up its white fury again, and the pilot now told us we would be landing “in almost zero visibility.” This was not comforting. The jet descended through a white, winter curtain that opened only at the last second, revealing the ghostly lights of the runway. We flew in on the instruments, and the ride was neither comfortable nor enjoyable. I do not like flying blind.

The Christian journey is a sure-but-blinded flight, brought home on the instruments of divine revelation. The blinding sin-rage and naturalistic wisdom of the age blow relentlessly against the windshield of our progress in the faith, but faith keeps a steady nose pointed to where God’s Word indicates we have a promised destination. Just as the pilot in the storm had a bold though, perhaps, tension-filled confidence in his flight plan, so the Christian lives step by steady step on a path whose Maker and end are imperceptible to an earthbound eye.

I lie awake in bed some nights listening to the night noises that play around the rooms of my semirural home in Tennessee. My wife stirs comfortably next to me; the old oak beams crack in the cold; pipes pop; a log falls in the fireplace. Occasionally a pack of coyotes ventures to our side of the cornfield across the road, tossing its unsettling, surreal yelp-barks to the sky and down through our roof upon sleepy ears. Yet, there is a sound that brings great comfort to me as I lie awake. Our gas heating unit resides in the attic on the bedroom end of the house. Suddenly, as I strain to listen for a child’s cough or an intruder’s step, the gas burner ignites with a gentle “whoosh.” Almost immediately the electric brain of the contraption clicks and begins to blow warmth throughout every cooling corner of our home. In the dead of winter I have become fairly adept at judging the temperature outside by the frequency with which the heater rumbles to life inside. The heater, mostly unseen, makes its presence ever known by surrounding my family with its radiance. Its presence rumbles in the background of my life, weaving a thread of comfort through night after dark night, as I lie awake and listen to my wife’s gentle breathing.

During these nighttime awakenings, at this stage in my life, I am tempted to hear the call of various fears: the fear that something might happen to Pat or one of the children; fear that something might happen to me, preventing me from being there for my family; fear that I might not be able to follow through on a project (like this book!); fear of evil people who oppose the gospel; fear of something going wrong at work; fear of mid-life; and so on and so forth. There is much of which to be afraid in this dark and morbid world. One session of the evening news provides ample evidence that the world has much harm to offer us as people. These fears call me to shrink back from life and, at times, from the Lifegiver. As people of faith we must not answer this call.

Although the world is dark, the presence of God rumbles in the background, blowing evidence of his presence and blessings into its every corner. It is a comforting presence, a warming against the cold night of meaninglessness, hostile selfishness, and fear that otherwise would consume us. How cold the world would be if not for the unseen God. How comforted those who know the path of faith, who have submitted themselves to the beautiful work of God in their groping lives. There really is no other way to live.