Dear Family,
On Sunday we dropped anchor, as it were, and looked at the metaphor that the writer to the Hebrews used for hope. Download the message for a full treatment. I pointed out that the anchor was one of the key symbols for the early Christians and used as a secret sign, possibly even more than the icthus, the fish. If we are going to exegete the metaphor we have to know what purpose an anchor serves for those who sail the seas.
• It keeps them in place: That means that there is something about this biblical hope that helps us to hold our position despite prevailing ungodly winds and waves that would sweep us off our bearings. Clearly then, hope is the vital contribution for the maintenance of spiritual faithfulness. If the anchor is not connected to something that will hold it fast, there will be no fixity or security. Our anchor of hope is secured in the ground of history, in the mighty acts of God. The remembrance of the historical works and miracles of God recovered hope for the psalmist when he was tempted to think that God’s love had faded or His promise had failed (Psalm 77:8-11). When hopelessness caused his spirit to faint he “remembered the days of long ago.” Remembering that the anchor was deep in history recovered his hope: “You are my God … I have put my hope in You” (Psalm 143: 5-11). Thus, the anchor of hope connects and secures our relationship with God and saves us from two main things:
Drifting: This is when the currents, whether of external conditions or internal emotions, whether of cultural persuasions or relational influences, determine our direction and movement. This may end up in us going backwards, an image of backsliding, or of returning to a place that we came from. So, an anchor does not only protect against the effects of external weather and water conditions but it is also strong enough to hold the weight of the vessel. Regardless of the weight of what we are bearing that would appear to threaten spiritual drowning or sinking, we can still maintain our place of safety, of surety, of stability. Hope is the great anti-drift virtue.
Driveness: To be drifted by contrary currents is one thing, but to be driven by contrary winds is another. There are undertows that we can choose to submit to, but there are external winds of circumstance that we did not choose that can drive us away from our mooring. Potentially the worst outcome of drifting is the slow slide into an exposed place where we are vulnerable to that which would make shipwreck of us. Remember Paul’s reference in to those who “have shipwrecked their faith” (1 Timothy 1:19). The anchor of hope, if held on to, serves to protect us from being driven by the forces of temptation or falsehood, specifically because it keeps us so focused on the gospel of hope, both its wonders and its warnings. Yes, future hope includes the redemption of our bodies, but also the judgment seat of Christ.
• It keeps them in peace: Our passage tells us that those who have this “hope as an anchor” experience a “strong consolation” (Hebrews 6:18-19). There is no peace where there is no hope. The prophet Isaiah understood that perfect peace was the experience of those who hoped in the Lord (Isaiah 26:3). The prophet Jeremiah lamented that he had been “deprived of peace” April 24, 2018 (Lamentations 3:17). A few verses later we learn that the only thing that restored it was the recovery of hope, specifically because of God’s great love and great faithfulness (3:21). The peace that is the fruit of hope is the antidote to fear. Despite the exterior conditions that might assail and rock the vessel, there is a protection from fear, because our hope is anchored in the outcomes that God has promised. Faith that looks forward in hope to God’s future, overcomes the fear that looks only toward the present immediate outcomes. When hope withers then fear flourishes (Zechariah 9:5). Again, was there any greater hopelessness than that experienced by the disciples after the crucifixion of Jesus? They huddled behind locked doors “for fear of the Jews.” Jesus appears to them, the risen Christ the hope of glory, and His first word to them is “Peace” (John 20:19). The peace of recovered hope dispelled the fear. Spurgeon wrote this: “The condition of every believer in Jesus is very similar to that of the landlubber on-board ship, who, when the sea was rather rough, asked, ‘Captain, we are in great danger, are we not?’ He received no answer, and so he said, ‘Captain, don’t you see great fear?’ Then the old seaman gruffly replied, ‘Yes, I see plenty of fear, but not a bit of danger.’ The ship was safely anchored.” Hope overcome fear; despite the threat there was peace.
Although some may think that hope is a fluke in the sense of that word when it means an unlikely or chance occurrence, that is clearly not the sense I am using it here. It is important that an anchor has sufficient substance and weight to secure in place, and in peace, what it is attached to. From being just a bag of heavy rocks, the anchor soon developed into having two arms, or flukes as they are known, that can dig and lodge into the seabed. It is really interesting that the anchor of hope in our passage has two such strong flukes, representing the double certification that God gives to hope:
The promise: “God made His promise … what was promised” (6:13, 17). This is the guarantee of the inheritance, the promise of the completion of our salvation which is firmly secured.
The oath: “He confirmed it with an oath” (6:17). This is the sheer grace of God that would give man what he needed for his assurance. As God cannot swear by a higher authority, He swears by himself. Thus, the hope for the future is sealed “By two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for God to lie” (6:18).
There are also two words used to describe the two flukes:
Sure: our anchor hope is outwardly strong, it is attested, and safe against external threat
Steadfast: our anchor of hope is internally unalloyed; it is pure, integral because integrous. We have a grip on hope but this is not about being clear about an idea, but being connected to a person, to Christ. Spurgeon put it best: “Be sure you have a secure hold on your sure anchor.” How unsafe is it not to be in the place of refuge, the anchorage of hope, with the conviction and assurance of our eternal destiny and hope.
Holding on to the anchor that holds us
This is a two-way street. You see, as much as it is about our hold on hope, the other part of this truth is that the anchor at the other end of the rope has a grip on us, because it holds us. It has the effect, against all the conditions and currents, of pulling us toward itself. It is this invisible hope that is hidden like an anchor beneath the surface of the sea, but nonetheless doing its assuring and securing work. Of course, the more the pressure and strain, the deeper the anchor goes. Even so, the more that the storms challenge our hope, the stronger hope becomes as it holds us firm and steady against that which would pull us away. Instead of a defeat, it gives us another victory. In one of his sermons on hope, Spurgeon had a lovely thought: “Our anchor will never return to us but it is drawing us home; it is drawing us to itself, not downward beneath devouring waves but upward to ecstatic joys. Do you feel it? You who are growing old, do you not feel it drawing you home?” He then quotes the lines of an old hymn: “O that we now might grasp our guide / O that the Word were given / Come Lord of Hosts, the waves divide / And land us all in heaven.” The writer longed for hope to give the final pull. He then drops this gorgeous but poignant line. “My cable has grown shorter lately.” That is true for all of us. We too are losing some links as we get closer to where the anchor is holding us fast.
The anchorage But what about the anchorage?
This is what everything has been leading up to. As we grasp God’s promises, as we lay hold of our future hope and choose to follow the rope to see where it leads and where the anchor actually is, what do we find? The text tells us that the anchor is “within the veil” (6:19). Our anchor is in heaven. We have no need to drop anchor anywhere else. We have no other anchorage. We need worry no more about our security. We can go anywhere and minister anywhere, and there may be some swells and even sea-sickness but wherever we are harbored by the leading of the Holy Spirit, we will be able to minister and live with authority and surety, because the end of the rope is secure. The anchor of our hope is already in the presence of God and that is where we are already moored and attached and being drawn to. To emphasize the point, Jesus is described as the “forerunner” – He “went before us” (6:20). He has already entered there for us. Since Jesus is there and He is our hope, our anchor is inseparably linked with Him. He is not going anywhere so nor are we, other than to be where He is. He will not slip or lose His grip and nor will we. We cannot be separated, we are secured, there is a place prepared. What a brilliant hope! Because He is the forerunner, we will follow. Truly He has gone to prepare a place for us, so that we may be where He is. In the end, our hope is all about who Jesus is, and where Jesus is. It is not primarily about our secure position, though that is surely true. It is all about the person we are secured by. Our hope is not something but someone.
Fully hoping,
Stuart