Heather Gorman 7-27-25

Good morning. Since we are just meeting, I should let you know. Okay, there. We've got it. We've got it.

Thank you all. Bless the people in the tech booth. They make everything happen. I'm so grateful. Since we're just meeting, I do want to let you know that I don't take lightly the task of studying and proclaiming God's word to God's people, especially to those of God's people who I don't really know yet and who don't really know me yet.

Just want to acknowledge that. And yet, at the same time, I think it's so neat that God's people are family. And so even though I don't know many of you, you are my brothers and sisters in Christ. And so we're part of a family together. And so I just want you to know how grateful I am to be here this morning.

So, as a Bible professor, I get asked pretty often what my favorite book of the Bible is. And my students come to know that the answer to that question is whatever book we're studying that day. So if we're in Matthew, of course, my favor book is Matthew because you have the Sermon on the Mount, and what more beautiful exposition of the ways of the kingdom is there than the Sermon on the Mount? And if we're in the Book of Acts, of course it's the Book of Acts because you see God's church just expanding and including all of these most unexpected people. And if we're in First Corinthians, this might be a little harder of a sell.

I love First Corinthians because it always, if nothing else, makes me feel better about God's people today, because, man, the dysfunction has been around for a while.

But there's a book that has always had a special place in my heart, and that is the Book of Hebrews. And it's special to me because of the way that it helps us navigate faith when life gets disorienting. It's the way that it calls us to endure in the midst of really deep brokenness. Sometimes that brokenness is in our communities around us. Sometimes it's the brokenness we witness on the evening news.

Sometimes it's broken relationships around us or we're a part of broken systems that really often hurt people. And I think we also know that that brokenness is often deep within ourselves. I've come to believe that for Christians, this disorientation at the brokenness in our world and in ourselves actually isn't the exception. At least not if we're paying Attention. I'm going to tell you what I mean by that.

I don't just mean that bad things happen. Job loss, sickness, death of a loved one. Things like that have been occurring since sin entered the world in Genesis 3, right? What I'm talking about when I talk about disorientation is that when we express religious conviction, on the one hand, Jesus is Lord, God is good, God is powerful. And then on the other hand, we have these experiences that don't seem to align with those convictions.

If God heals people, why does my dear friend struggle from such deep depression? If God is all powerful, why are there school shootings? If Jesus is Lord and master and sovereign, why is there cancer and. And Covid. And child abuse?

That is what I mean by disorientation. That our religious convictions don't always align with our experience in the world. Psychologists have a name for this experience. They call it cognitive dissonance. It's this experience of holding two related beliefs or opinions or experiences that don't always align.

This is what my daughter experienced a few years ago. This is my youngest daughter, Elise. She's a bit older now, eight. She was about three at this time. And we were sitting around the kitchen table eating a meal that we had eaten probably hundreds of time, grilled chicken.

And suddenly, out of the blue, Elise just starts laughing. And she says, mama, why do we call it chicken? That is so silly. Chickens are the pets that Jody has. Jody is our neighbor, and he raised chickens.

Jamie and I look at each other. Who's gonna tell her? Somewhere along the line, she had missed the vital information that the chicken that we eat is the same thing as the chickens that roam our neighbor's yard. Well, sweetie, we call it chicken because it's chicken. This used to be a living animal.

And when we eat animals, when we eat chicken, when we eat meat, we are. We are eating animals. She sits down, her fork, her sweet little face falls. And I just broke the heart of my little animal lover. It's cognitive dissonance, right?

On the one hand, I love animals. On the other hand, I eat them. Cognitive dissonance is also why we have the quip, never meet your heroes. Some of you are probably familiar with the life and story of Ravi Zacharias, a Christian minister and apologist for over 40 years. His preaching and teaching converted thousands.

Maybe more than that, I don't know. And strengthened the faith of so many people. And yet, after his death, he was accused of serious allegations of misconduct. And after several investigations, it seemed that those allegations were confirmed. The ministry with his namesake, apologized.

They removed many of his materials. His denomination even revoked his ordination. How can a prolific apologist and evangelist do such horrible things? It's cognitive dissonance. As humans, we've come up with various ways to handle this dissonance.

A very popular one is denial. Let's call it bacon instead of pig. So that way I don't think about this tasty breakfast food being an animal. There's no way he could have done that. I just can't believe that sometimes we try to justify the dissonance.

Well, that's what animals are for. We raise them to eat them.

Well, our heroes are human. Nobody's perfect. Maybe because of the distance, we change our beliefs or our actions. Perhaps we become a vegetarian. Perhaps we give up faith because the leaders are hypocrites.

Or we learn to live in the tension. I love animals, and I like to eat them. Both of these are true. My heroes have done some wonderful things and some awful things. One of the reasons I find Hebrews so compelling is because it's honest about the human experience.

It names this dissonance that we experience. The ancient audience of Hebrews was experiencing dissonance, at least in part because they were suffering. The author describes this in chapter 10, and I want to read that to you. He says, recall those earlier days when, after you had been enlightened, you endured a hard struggle with sufferings, sometimes being publicly exposed to insults and afflictions, and sometimes being partners with those so treated. You had compassion for those who were in prison, and you cheerfully accepted the plundering of your possessions, knowing that you yourselves possessed something better and more lasting.

They were suffering, at least in part because they followed Jesus, suffering abuse, imprisonment, loss of property. And yet it sounds like, at least in their early days, they endured it pretty well, right? They're partnering with others. They're cheerfully accepting it. I don't know about you, but when bad things happen to me, cheerfully accepting is not like my initial gut response.

But it seems like some time has passed since those early days, and the author has to encourage them. So he goes on and he says, do not therefore abandon that boldness of yours. It brings a great reward, for you need endurance, so that when you have done the will of God, you may receive what was promised. Endure, he says. Hold on.

Even when you're tired, even when you're worn out. Hebrews 10 here tells us what's causing that dissonance. Their suffering. But Hebrews 2, which is what was read this morning, is where the author really names this dissonance and helps them try to think through how to live within it. So after he spent chapter one exploring just how great Jesus is, he's greater than the angels.

Jesus is amazing. He then turns the corner in chapter two and writes this. Now, God did not subject the coming world about which we are speaking to angels, but someone has testified somewhere. And that someone is the author of Psalm 8. And that's what is then in italics on the screen.

What is man? That you are mindful of him, the Son of man, that you care for him. You have made him for a little while lower than the angels. You have crowned him with glory and honor, subjecting all things under his feet. The author here takes Psalm 8, which is originally a song celebrating humanity's prized place in God's creation.

It's a beautiful psalm, but what he does is he takes it and he reads it about Jesus. The early church loved to do this. Their world had been utterly turned upside down when God came in the flesh and lived and died and resurrected among them. And they could no longer read their scriptures the same again. And so he read Psalm 8 as being about Jesus incarnation.

So chapter one, which we don't have time to get into this morning, was BRO Boldly proclaiming how Jesus is greater than the angels. But then here in chapter two, the author reminds us that even so, Jesus was still for a little while lower than the angels. The powerful eternal reigning victorious one of chapter one also knew what it was like to be human. Perhaps he could understand this dissonance that we feel. The author then goes on and offers some commentary on Psalm 8.

He writes this now, in subjecting all things to him, God left nothing outside his control. As it is, we do not yet see everything in subjection to him. But we do see Jesus, who for a little while was made lower than the angels, now crowned with glory and honor because of the suffering of death, so that by the grace of God, he might taste death for everyone. On the one hand, God left nothing outside his control, right? That's our Christian confession.

Jesus is Lord, Master. Everything's in his control. That is the central conviction that we come to celebrate every Sunday. It's what we proclaim at our baptism. It's what we celebrate around the table.

It's what we sing and declare in our songs, that Jesus is Lord.

And yet, on the other hand, we do not see everything in subjection to him. We don't see our anxiety subject to Jesus. We don't see Texas floodwaters subject to Jesus. We don't see terrorists and Dictators and bullies subject to Jesus. And honestly, sometimes we don't see the day in, day out grind where nothing seems to get better and we can't catch a break.

And how our groceries this expensive and those people, even those close to us disappointed, we just don't see it subject to Jesus. And the author of Hebrews names that. I don't think that point should be lost on us. There are too many versions of Christianity that deny the real suffering in our world as you just focus on heaven, put on a happy face and spout off some cliches because we don't want people to know that maybe Christianity isn't just going to be an easy fix to all their problems. But I think few things have done disservice to the gospel more than denying the extent of real suffering in our world and in our own lives.

Denial is not the answer to the cognitive dissonance. Because if we're honest, if we have to choose what is most real of the two things causing the dissonance, the religious conviction is going to go. And because the infertility and the job loss and the broken relationships are just too in our face to deny.

Some Christians have gone the denial route. But the author of Hebrews doesn't, nor does he justify it or insist on some false choice. Instead, he teaches them how to live in the tension, how to live with the dissonance. He acknowledges as it is, we do not yet see everything in subjection to Jesus. He acknowledges it, but then he insists, but we do see Jesus.

What we look at matters. And here the author of Hebrews points to the whole story of Jesus, not just the exalted, greater than the angels part of chapter one. And he goes on and he says, we do see Jesus, who for a little while was made lower than the angels, now crowned with glory and honor. That's part of the story, but that's because of suffering and death. So that by the grace of God, he might taste death for everyone suffering death of the Son of God.

That's part of the story.

Why part of the answer is there at the end of verse 9? So that he might taste death for everyone. This is at the heart of Christian doctrine, right? Mark says that Jesus gave his life as a ransom for many. John tells us that Jesus flesh is bread given on behalf of the world.

Paul says that Christ died on our behalf while we were still sinners. And so here Hebrews aligns with the larger New Testament witness that Jesus death was purposely undertaken for others. And yet a theology of atonement doesn't exhaust the meaning of Jesus death. Hebrews says that Jesus suffering and death is what creates a familial bond between him and us. It's what unites us with the Father as one family.

He goes on and he says, for the one who sanctifies, of course, that's Jesus. And those who are sanctified, that's all of us have one father. For this reason, Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters. Did you hear that? Jesus calls us brothers and sisters.

Our suffering and Christ's suffering, what makes us family? Those of you in here who grew up with siblings know that there's a special bond that you have that you share with just your brother or sister because you alone endured your parents. You know what I'm talking about? Uh huh. All right, now kids, I want to make you a deal here.

You are welcome to come up to me after the service and tell me all the things you've had to endure under your parents, but you are not allowed to ask my daughters, Anna and Elise. They will have nothing to tell you, so don't waste your time. Okay, we have a deal.

I have one sibling. Her name's Christy. We're only 17 months apart. And part of what we endured together growing up in our family is that our mom is a nurse. Now those of you who don't have a parent who is a nurse or perhaps a doctor might be thinking, oh, that must be so nice.

I bet she knew just what to do when you were sick. But those of you who have a parent who is a nurse or a doctor know you are not going to the doctor unless you are on your deathbed or one of your limbs is physically detached from your body. Now for some reason, that rule doesn't apply to my mom with her granddaughters, but it did for me as a kid. So when I was 14, I went on a mission trip to Mexico. It was my first time ever leaving the country.

And we were charged with building a house for someone in the church. Did my 14 year old self know how to build a house? Absolutely not. Did that stop anyone from giving me or any other 14 year olds power tools? It did not.

And so this is the beginning of a potentially disastrous story. Some things went wrong is what I want to tell you. This morning I was climbing out, we had like dug this 10 foot pit into the ground and I was climbing out to get some water. And as I'm going up the ladder and I'm about to like step to the edge, my foot slips. If you're squeamish.

Cover your ears. And I fall face first into a barbed wire fence. Yeah. And I catch one of my lips on one of the barbs. Now you might be thinking, oh, her mom is a nurse.

Surely she did not go to Mexico on a construction based mission trip without an updated tetanus shot. Surely she didn't. Friends, I did. You are wrong. Were there cell phones to call for help?

There were not. It was 1999 friends. So naturally my sister watches in horror as I climb into this teeny tiny Mazda truck with like a guy from the mission on the one side and a translator on the other and we zip off to some clinic. But we had to stop on the way because it was apparently a bring your own syringe and needle. And so we stopped and we bought that.

And then we went to the clinic and they gave me a shot. Was it a tetanus shot? I don't know. Because my mom the nurse sent me on a construction mission trip without an updated tetanus shot. I promise you, she's a lovely mother.

I hope one day you all can meet her. She'll come visit. It'll be great. But there's something that my sister and I know about co suffering in this family because we've been in it together. She has her own stories.

We're sisters. We share the same parents. The Christian story claims that we are in the family of God and that it's a true family. Not because of biology. We all know that's not actually what makes someone family.

Right? We are part of the family because God suffered with us through Jesus. God didn't just imagine what it was like to be human. God didn't just imagine what it was like to suffer and die like some of you might be imagining what it's like to have a mom as a nurse. God actually became one of us.

He knows the rest of Hebrews two fleshes this out. Since therefore the children share flesh and blood. He himself likewise shared the same things so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is the devil, and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death. For it is clear that he did not come to help angels, but the descendants of Abraham. Therefore he had to become like his brothers and sisters in every respect so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God to make a sacrifice of atonement for the sins of the people.

Because he himself was tested by what he suffered. He is able to Help those who are being tested. The Incarnation God fully experiencing what it is to be human is Hebrews response to the cognitive dissonance. We look not only to the divine Exalted son of Hebrews 1. He is Lord of all all things are subject to Him.

But we also look at the human suffering Jesus of Hebrews 2 to know that our suffering doesn't negate his lordship. For it was through the suffering of death that he was crowned with glory and honor, says verse nine. And it was through death that he destroyed the one who has the power of death and freed us from being held in slavery by the fear of death, say verses 14 and 15. And it was through suffering that he's able to help us because he too was tested in his suffering. Verse 18.

But notice there verse 17. He became like us in every respect. Jesus knew hurt. He knew betrayal from his closest friends.

He knew what it was to weep when his friend died. He knew what it was like to be misunderstood and doubted by his family. He knew what it was like to have the religious folk of the day turn on him. He knew what it was like, says Hebrews 5, to cry out to God with loud cries and tears and not get the answer they hoped for. He knew what it was like to suffer and be humiliated, and he knew what it was like to die.

Jesus shared our flesh and blood, lived the depth of the human experience. He is with us. I was going to ask you if you are familiar with the worship song My Living Hope, but as I listened to you all sing it this morning, I learned, yes, you are. I will tell you, I have a love hate relationship with this song. I love it because I think much of the theology in it is really beautiful and rich, but I hate it because it always makes me cry and I don't like to cry in front of people.

I don't know if it was the Holy Spirit or Jeff that was testing my emotional capacity this morning, but the reason this song makes me cry is because it takes me back to a very specific moment of cognitive dissonance. In August of 2019, one of my dear friends, Becky, passed away quite tragically and unexpectedly, leaving behind a heartbroken husband and three children who really needed their mama. Her death, in and of itself wasn't necessarily what prompted the dissonance that came about three weeks later when we were in worship and we sang the third verse of My Living Hope, which we just sang this morning. I will not sing it for you, but I do have the lyrics here. Then came the morning that sealed the promise Your buried body began to breathe out of the silence the roaring lion declared, the grave has no claim on me.

And usually, as we did, you sing that twice and then you get the hands up in the air and everyone is ready to proclaim, Jesus, yours is the victory. I'd sung this song dozens of times before Becky's death, but ever since then, even six years later, I get that lump in my throat, right? Tears in my eyes, trying to sing, the grave has no claim on me. Jesus, yours is the victory. I want to be clear, I absolutely, utterly believe those lines to be true down deep in my bones.

And yet, since her death, I've also experienced the untimely death of two of my former students. One of my best friends was diagnosed with stage four cancer. All of that, keep that dissonance alive and well. I do not yet see everything in subjection to Jesus, but I think, at least on my best days, I'm learning that the goal isn't to resolve the dissonance. It's not to pretend that the death or the divorce or the diagnosis doesn't exist or doesn't hurt.

It does.

No, the goal is to keep holding on to our faith in the midst of that dissonance. And please know, I don't say that in a cheap way. That just says, if you just believe harder, everything's going to get better. That's not what I mean. I'm talking about a way that holds the religious conviction in the one hand and the hard life experiences in the other.

Talking about the way that proclaims in one breath Jesus is Lord, and in the next breath humbly acknowledges that we, he don't see everything subject to him. So where does this leave us? It leaves us living in the tension. It leaves us as people who are willing to name the pain and not pretend it away, who stare brokenness in the face, perhaps with a tremble in our voice, and say, even now, even still, Jesus is Lord. It means we're honest about what we don't yet see.

The healing, the peace, the justice that we so long for, all the while clinging to what we do see through faith, which is Jesus. We see one who suffered like us and with us and for us. He's the one who makes us family, not just by calling us siblings, but by walking through suffering as our brother. And so we endure, not by ignoring the dissonance, but by following the one who has already walked through it, who tasted death for everyone and who now reigns in glory. And until all things are set under his feet, we look to Jesus and we walk on together.

Will you pray with me this morning?

Good and gracious Heavenly Father, you are with us. That gives us great comfort knowing that we are not alone, not alone in our suffering, our doubt, our fear, our pain. To have a God who knows what it is to be human and to struggle is good news indeed. God, thank you for becoming one of us and for all that that means. We are grateful that you are our God and we are grateful that you have called us your sons and daughters, your people.

We pray this through the name of your son Jesus by the power of your Holy Spirit. Amen. Church as you stand for our benediction would you thank Heather for joining us this.

Brothers and sisters in Christ and of Christ may this week we have the courage to endure to receive the fullness of the gospel and to live it out every day in face of everything going on around us. Go in peace.