October 5, 2003


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Read Hebrews 2:14-18


These are the words of neurosurgeon Mel Cheatham from his book (which can be found in our church library), Living a Life That Counts:


I can still hear the words.  Cold and real.  Dropped into my lap without warning.


“You probably won't live beyond age fifty.  You should get your living done while you can.”


The doctor's voice echoed in my head. ... And everything in the room seemed to slow down.


I was thirty.  I was married with two small children.  As I tried to take all of this in, I couldn't escape the irony that I was the doctor who did not want to accept the truth.  I was nine months into my neurological surgery residency, looking forward to a career as a neurosurgeon and a future with my wife Sylvia, and our son and daughter.


It was perhaps the saddest evening of my entire life.  It was also the beginning of an unexpected turn of events that has since left me professionally exhilarated, emotionally exhausted, and personally fulfilled beyond what I ever dreamed at the time.


Mel Cheatham’s book tells the story of a man who was set free of his fear of death and so found that he was set free of his fear of life.


In our text this morning, we learn that Jesus died for us so that we could be set free of our fear of death, a fear that has the power to hold us in slavery.


That is the tragedy of the fear of death.  It is not just about the fear that can cloud our lives for a few years, or a few months, or a few days before our own inevitable death.  It goes far beyond the fear of that moment when the last breath will escape from our lips.  If we are not set free from the fear of death, it will cloud our whole life.  Fear of death will hold us in slavery and keep us from
living.


A story is told of an old hand pump that was attached to the top of a deep well in the middle of a vast stretch of desert. On the pump were two things. A bottle of water that was tightly capped. And an engraved message on the side of the pump itself, which read:


Dear traveler.  You have a choice to make.  You are desperately thirsty.  You can take the bottle and try to make it across the rest of the journey on that one bottle of water.  However, I warn you, without more water to fill your canteens, you will not make it the rest of the way.


Or, you can resist the desire to preserve this water, Instead, pour the water slowly in the top of the pump.  It will take the whole thing.  Wait a few moments for the dry cork sleeves of the plunger to swell, and then obtain all the clear, cold water you can drink.  Fill your canteens, all of them to the top--for the journey ahead.


This little story illustrates the difference between the person who lives his life as a slave to the fear of death and a person who lives his life freed, not only from the fear of death, but from the corresponding fear of life.


People who are afraid of death look at their life as a small bottle of water.  It’s their bottle.  It belongs to them.  It’s all they have.


And their response to life is to try to preserve the water as long as they can.  As they trudge across the desert of life, they are always thirsty, never satisfied, as they try to ration the water on their journey.


On the other hand, a person who is set free from the fear of death is also freed from the fear of life.  A person who is freed from death looks at his life, not as something to grasp and preserve,  but as something to pour out, as something that belongs to God.  A person freed from death knows it is only when he gives his life to God that God will turn it into an artesian spring of blessings and true life.


Jesus on several occasions makes a statement that reflects these two ways of living.  In Luke 17:33, He writes: “Whoever tries to keep his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life will preserve it.”


Turn with me to Luke 1:74.  This is the prophecy of Zechariah after the birth of his son--the man who would become known as John the Baptist.  He was prophesying about the things Jesus would accomplish for his people: “.. to rescue us from
the hand of our enemies, and to enable us to serve him without fear in holiness and righteousness before him all of our days.”


Jesus came so that we could serve him without fear. In other words, He came so that we could live a kind of life that involved, not a desperate, fearful attempt to control and hang onto a life we see as belonging to us, but rather a kind of life we find only by relinquishing our lives to Him.


Going back to the story of the pump, we all know which is the right choice to make. Certainly it makes sense to prime the pump so that you can get all the water you need.


So what would keep us from making that obvious choice?


It would be the fear that the pump wouldn't work.


What if we pour the water down the pump, but the pump doesn't work.  And so we throw away the little water that we had in our hand. If we were faced with that choice, what would make it easier to be confident that the pump will work?


If we had known someone who had taken the same journey, had primed the pump, and finished their trek across the desert...If we had known someone who had done that before we
took the journey, surely their experience would help us to make the right choice.


But I can think of something even better.


What if the person who had already made the journey once, had already primed the pump before, was actually right there with us on the journey? Then we would surely have even more courage to make the right choice.


Returning to our text in Hebrews 2, this is
our situation.  This is why we can have the courage to lose our life and then find it. First, Jesus took on our flesh and blood so that he could die the same death we die. Jesus died the death of a human being. In dying a death like ours, he sealed the destruction of Satan and stripped him of his power to hold people in slavery to the fear of death.


Let me make a couple of quick clarifications here:


Hebrews 2 does not say that when Christ died, Satan was destroyed.  It says that Christ's death insured that Satan would be destroyed.  The destruction of Satan was sealed when Jesus Christ died. Hebrews 2 also does not say that when Jesus died, death was destroyed.  This is evident when we look around.  The statistics regarding death remain impressive.  One out of one.  No exceptions.  It does
say that when Jesus died, death’s enslaving hold, which keeps us in fear, was broken, stripped of its power. Just as Satan will ultimately be destroyed, so death will ultimately be destroyed. It will be gone. It will be taken out of the dictionaries because it will no longer be. 1 Corinthians 1 5:26 says, "The last enemy to be destroyed is death.”


But the emphasis here is that Jesus actually went through physical death--
he has been there and done that. Then in verse 1:6 we have this little sentence: “For surely it is not angels he helps, but Abraham's descendants.” God helps angels. I could take you to scriptures where we are told God helps angels. The author means he doesn't help angels as he helps us.


God never became an angel.


God did become a human being.


Just how human did he become? In verses 17 and 18 we read: For this reason he had to be made like his
brothers in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the sins of the people.  Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.


He is leading us through territory that he has already conquered.  That is why we don't have to fear. Jesus was also tempted to hang on to his life. But at every point he did not. He laid down his life in service to God and to minister to people.  And we can have the courage to do the same because of two tremendous truths we see in this text.


1. He has already faced all we have faced and has conquered.


This does not mean that He has done exactly everything we have done; for example, Jesus was never a CPA, or a policeman, or any number of other occupations. But he faced all the temptations that we face in our lives.


Let’s think about some examples.


If we give our life to Jesus Christ, we will face being misunderstood by other people./
Did Jesus?


Big time. His own family once came to get Jesus when he was teaching because they thought he had gone crazy. The religious leaders of the day told people that he was of Satan.


If we give our life to Jesus Christ, we, too, will serve people in ways that are costly to us.


Did Jesus?


Many times after long days, Jesus was called upon to continue to minister to people even when he was tired. Jesus often stayed up all night to pray and seek His Father's wisdom. Jesus gave up his comfortable life as a carpenter and entered a world where he made a lot of enemies and encountered the rigors of constant travel and poor living conditions.


If we give our lives to Jesus, we will likely suffer tragedy and loss and grief.


Did Jesus?


Jesus' earthly father probably died during his teen years. One of Jesus' best friends, undoubtedly a childhood playmate, his cousin John, was imprisoned and beheaded because he was doing the right thing. Jesus knew the betrayal of those who professed to love him.  Every one of his disciples left him at the moment of his greatest need.


If we give our lives to Jesus, we will have to speak the truth at times that
will make us very unpopular and might even jeopardize our lives.


Did Jesus?


On several occasions he made people so mad they tried to seize him and kill him.


During his entire three years of public ministry, some of the greatest minds of his day dedicated themselves to trying to trip him up in his words and actions in order to discredit him.


If we give our lives to Jesus, we may have to put ourselves at risk in order
to help other people.


Did Jesus?


Jesus embraced lepers. He put himself in the company of the great unwashed. He healed people on the Sabbath, knowing full well he would incur the murderous wrath of many.


As the text reads, “... he had to be made like his brothers in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God.”


So we can have the courage to give our life away instead of trying to preserve it because Jesus has already been through all the fears we will ever encounter. It gives us great strength of heart and mind to know that our leader, our savior, has faced it all before. 


2. The second reason we can have courage is even better:


He is present with us as we go through what we go through, and he can help us very effectively.


"Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.”


So we can pour our water bottle down the pump. Because not only has Jesus done it before us, but he is with us this moment as we pour.


I want to relate to you a true story of a young, wealthy, suburban California homemaker named Diane Bringgoid.


Her story illustrates how Jesus can give us  the strength to walk though any great difficulty because of His promise that He will
walk through it with us, dramatically revealing what is true of all of our lives.  Again, by conquering our fear of death, Jesus also conquers something even greater--our fear of life.  He sets us free from thinking of our lives as little bottles of water we need to preserve. Instead we are free to place our lives in his hands, pour out our bottles--our lives--into his hands and find His Life as abundantly flowing as an artesian well.


Diane's husband was a young, ambitious attorney.  His skill and ability caused him to quickly become a partner in a Ventura California law firm.


Diane had a career, too.  She “retired” at the birth of their first child to devote herself to being a wife and mother. The Bringgold's net worth was increasing rapidly. Not only in money but in things far more valuable. First there was Scott.  The spitting image of his father. Loved to hunt with Dad. Loved sports. Played sports. Breathed sports. Adored as a first child, a cherished son.


Then three years later, a daughter, Mary. Very serious. Liked to turn Mother's kitchen into a cooking club. Five or six third graders messing up Mom's kitchen.  And making Mom feel included in their adventure.


And three years later, a second daughter, Laura. Brunette. Affectionate. Loved her brother and sister.  Shared a bedroom with them until another room was added.


Everything changed on a Monday.


Bruce, Diane, Scott, Mary, and Laura were seated snugly inside a Cessna 210 with friends Jim and Virginia Dixon.  They had just spent a weekend with close friends at their vacation home near Mt. Shasta in Northern California.


They had planned to leave Saturday, but the weather prevented it. By Monday afternoon, the low overcast was clearing as they took off.  But as quickly as the sky had seemed to clear, the low-lying clouds moved in again. As a worried Bruce tried to make his flight path follow the outline of Highway 5, a thousand feet below, Diane grew more quiet, more tense.


Suddenly they had no visibility.  Then came the moment that changed her life.  A moment without warning of what the next 20 years would bring.  A moment only Diane, herself could describe, as she does in the following excerpt:


“Oh my God, Bruce, the trees!”


I screamed.  Bruce, at the controls, saw them too. Instantly, he reacted, banking the plane sharply left, but not in time to avoid the onrushing mountain.


I remember the crash landing did not seem as rough as I expected. Then...it was all over...the end....the end of everything...nothing ....


I don't know how long I was unconscious, but probably no more than a few moments. Suddenly, I was aware of the flames bursting out from below the instrument panel. I still had my seat belt on, but I had slid down in my seat.  Bruce was leaning on top of me.  He wasn't moving.  There was no sound at all in the plane except the crackling of flames.  They were searing my legs, my hands, my face.  Somehow, wriggling and squirming, I got my seat belt unfastened, and pushed Bruce off me. He still did not move.


I slid out the open door and crawled away from the plane second before the gas tanks exploded.


I crawled away from the flames and behind a large rock to die. There I placed the back of my hands on the snow-covered rock to ease my pain. I wished it were colder so I could freeze to death quickly.


Suddenly something caused me to look up. About eight or ten feet away, I saw a white-robed figure.  THE figure was radiant, but the radiance did not dispel the fog. It seemed to be a man, though I couldn't distinguish His features clearly.  Somehow I knew it was the Lord.

“Diane.” His voice was warm but full of authority. “It is not up to you to decide whether to live or die. That decision is Mine alone to make.”


I don't know why, but somehow I was not surprised that He was there with me, that He was speaking to me. I wanted Him to know that I really couldn't go on living. “Lord, that's easy for you to say, but I can't face being widowed, being childless, and being badly burned. Two out of three maybe, but not all three.”


I wasn't trying to bargain with Him. I did not expect Him to restore my husband or my children or to heal me, although He could have. I just wanted Him to know it was the combination of circumstances that had overwhelmed me.


He remained silent, as if He were waiting for me to continue. “Lord,” I said “if you want me to live, I will give you my life. I will give you my problems. You will have to cope with the pain, the loneliness, and with the grief. I can't.”


Still he did not speak, but such love flowed from Him that I knew He would care for me-- that he would handle the grief, the pain, the loneliness. I knew that I was in His care and that everything would be all right...As suddenly as he had appeared, the Lord was no longer there. I don't know how long He had been with me on the mountain--a few minutes or a few seconds. Time was unimportant.


Diane had been burned over 30 percent of her body. All of her family was dead.


For ten years after the accident, Diane remained alone. She experience loneliness, anger, and moments of wanting to give up. But always in her loneliness and anger, in her times of doubt and uncertainty, she turned to God, asking for His help, His guidance, and found her prayers answered.  This was not a storybook ending, but a long-term chapter of being human and remaining humble. Her greatest fear was standing up in front of an audience and telling her story. Yet, over the last 20 years, she has stood before hundreds of groups, telling audiences what has been given to her to share with them:


"Most of us are raised to be self-reliant. As long as we handle things, we don't need His love. Yet, now that you've heard my story, you know that I have no other option than to live the rest of my life for Him."


We conquer our fear of life when we realize, as Diane did as she lay on that mountain, that life is not and never has been our own.  We are ultimately powerless to control our own destiny.  It has to do with humility.  It has to do with the fact that once we are stripped of all our creature comforts, our titles, our reputations, we see how helpless we really are--and how much we need God.


We cannot really hang onto the little bottle of our lives.  When we believe we can, we delude ourselves.


Instead, Jesus, gives us the courage to surrender our bottle to Him. To pour our water into His pump. In doing so, we allow Him make of our lives something that of our own power we could never accomplish. And we are able to do this because He was made like us, His brothers and sisters, in every way. We will face nothing that He has not already encountered.


And better yet, He is present with us:


"Because he himself suffered when he
was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted."


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