Embraced by Grace

May 14, 2022

“They embraced [the promises] and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth.” —Hebrews 11:13

Christians often speak of God’s promises in glowing terms—promises “to bless…and give a future with hope,” (Jeremiah 29:11), or “to be with us till the end of the age,” (Matthew 28:19-20), or to make sure that “the righteous [shall not be] forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.” (Psalm 37:25). However, it is one thing to claim God’s promises, and quite another to embrace them. 

Embrace is a strong word. When we embrace someone, we hold them close; we hold them tightly. There is nothing casual about an embrace, although it can be done deceitfully, like Judas betraying Jesus with a kiss. Embracing the promises of God is more than mere declaration; it includes the confession that we are strangers and pilgrims on the earth. So the question must be asked: “What do I really embrace?” Do I cling to, am I intimate with this world with all it has to offer? Do I cling to what I can see and touch more than I cling to promises of a better world that can only be seen by faith? It’s easy to deceive ourselves into imagining that we long for heaven while we are clinging desperately to earth.

What I embrace determines what I confess. My mouth may say one thing, but what I embrace always speaks more loudly. That which I hold tightly, even in secret, will eventually reveal itself in my confessions, and my confessions will eventually shape my actions. So what am I embracing? It’s easy to embrace the things of this world that give comfort and a sense of security—my home, my retirement income, the stuff I use to keep our home and lifestyle intact—even while confessing to embrace eternity.

This is more than idle talk, more than a mere academic reflection. Our son’s diagnosis of a melanoma in his lung pushes to the forefront our embracing of the family life we’ve enjoyed for so many years. We can’t know for sure, but what if God is calling us to embrace promises that require us to confess that we are only passing through this life; it isn’t our final home? I remember singing that old song, “This world is not my home; I’m just a-passing through…” It’s one thing to sing it, but quite another to embrace it, to cling tightly to promises that not only comfort, but challenge us. 

Embracing this kind of future is only possible through the faith exemplified in the entirety of Hebrews 11. We hold tightly, embracing this faith, but it is a faith that also holds us in the grip of a grace that is both savage and serene, flowing from the horrors of the Cross to the heart of Communion with the Father through the gift of the Holy Spirit.