God Speaks
Intro:
There is a difference between listening and really hearing,
There is a difference between listening and really hearing, Jesus often cried, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear!” This statement suggests that it takes more than physical ears to hear the voice of God. It also requires a receptive heart. “Today, if ye will hear His voice, harden not your hearts” (Heb. 3:7–8).
C. S. Lewis memorably portrayed the growing Christian’s experience of an ever-enlarging Christ in his Chronicles of Narnia. Lucy, caught up in her spiritual quest, saw the lion Aslan—Christ—shining white and huge in the moonlight. In a burst of emotion Lucy rushed to him, burying her face in the rich silkiness of his mane, whereupon the great beast rolled over on his side so that Lucy fell, half-sitting and half-lying between his front paws. He bent forward and touched her nose with his tongue. His warm breath was all around her. She gazed up into the large, wise face.
“Welcome, child,” he said.
“Aslan,” said Lucy, “you’re bigger.”
“That is because you are older, little one,” answered he.
“Not because you are?”
“I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.”
Although most translations, including the NIV, present this introduction in several sentences, Hebrews 1:1–4 in Greek forms a single, multiclause sentence, built around the main clause “God … has spoken.” Thus God and his communication to humanity through the Son engage the author’s attention from the first. These beautifully crafted verses fall into two main subdivisions, the first addressing divine revelation (1:1–2a) and the second the person, work, and status of God’s Son (1:2b–4).
This clause is made of the main subject, “God” (theos), in v. 1 and the main verb, “he has spoken” (elalesen), in v. 2. The word translated “spoke” in the NIV’s v. 1 is actually a participle dependent on the main verb.
The word better is used thirteen times in this book as the writer shows the superiority of Jesus Christ and His salvation over the Hebrew system of religion. Christ is “better than the angels” (Heb. 1:4). He brought in “a better hope” (Heb. 7:19) because He is the Mediator of “a better covenant, which was established on better promises” (Heb. 8:6).
Christ’s superiority to the angels made him greater than the law, which was said to have been mediated by angels (2:2–3).
“Superior” is the translation of kreittōn, which is more usually rendered “better.” This is one of the author’s favorite words. He uses it thirteen out of the nineteen times it appears in the NT (1 Cor, with three occurrences, is the only other book that has the word more than once). So we read in Hebrews that there are better things (6:9) and that the less is blessed of the better (7:7); there is a better hope (7:19) and a better covenant (7:22; 8:6); there are better promises (8:6) and better sacrifices (9:23); there are a better possession (10:34), a better country (11:16), a better resurrection (11:35), something better (11:40), and blood that speaks better (12:24). This strong emphasis on what is “better” arises from the author’s deep conviction that Jesus Christ is “better” and that he has accomplished something “better” than anyone else.
No New Testament book has had more background research than Hebrews, and none has spawned a greater diversity of opinion. There is, of course, broad agreement about several of the most important things. Virtually all agree that the grand theme of this epistle is the supremacy and finality of Christ.
A consensus also exists regarding the general identity of the recipients: they were a group of Jewish Christians who had never seen Jesus in person, yet had believed. Their conversion had brought them hardship and persecution with the result that some had slipped back into Judaism. And, thus, the purpose for writing was to encourage them to not fall away, but to press on (cf. 2:1ff.; 3:12ff.; 6:4ff.; 10:26ff.; and 12:15ff.).
There is also universal agreement, first expressed by Origen, that “Only God knows certainly” who wrote this letter. There is also agreement that the author, whoever he was, was a magnificent stylist with an immense vocabulary and a vast knowledge of the Greek Old Testament.
We know they had already paid a price for their initial commitment to Christ. As the writer recalls in 10:32–34:
Remember those earlier days after you had received the light, when you stood your ground in a great contest in the face of suffering. Sometimes you were publicly exposed to insult and persecution; at other times you stood side by side with those who were so treated. You sympathized with those in prison and joyfully accepted the confiscation of your property, because you knew that you yourselves had better and lasting possessions.
The Epistle to the Hebrews opens with an important declaration: “God … has spoken to us in His Son” (Heb. 1:1–2, NASB). Near the close of the book, the writer states: “See to it that you do not refuse Him who is speaking” (Heb. 12:25, NASB). In other words, the theme of Hebrews seems to be: “God has spoken; we have His Word. What are we doing about it?”
I think you will see how they all hang together and present one message: heed God’s word.
Drifting from the Word—2:1–4 (neglect)
Doubting the Word—3:7–4:13 (hard heart)
Dullness toward the Word—5:11–6:20 (sluggishness)
Despising the Word—10:26–39 (willfulness)
Defying the Word—12:14–29 (refusing to hear)
If we do not listen to God’s Word and really hear it, we will start to drift. Neglect always leads to drifting, in things material and physical as well as spiritual. As we drift from the Word, we start to doubt the Word; because faith comes by hearing the Word of God (Rom. 10:17). We start to get hard hearts, and this leads to spiritual sluggishness which produces dullness toward the Word. We become “dull of hearing”—lazy listeners! This leads to a despiteful attitude toward the Word to the extent that we willfully disobey God; and this gradually develops into a defiant attitude—we almost “dare” God to do anything!
Like these great men and women of faith, we today should be “strangers and pilgrims on the earth” (Heb. 11:13). This is one reason why God is shaking everything around us. He wants us to turn loose from the things of this world and stop depending on them.
Abraham and Lot, his nephew, illustrate these two different attitudes (Gen. 13–14). Abraham was a wealthy man who could have lived in an expensive house in any location that he chose. But he was first of all God’s servant, a pilgrim and a stranger; and this meant living in tents. Lot chose to abandon the pilgrim life and move into the evil city of Sodom. Which of these two men had true security? It would appear that Lot was safer in the city than Abraham was in his tents on the plain. But Lot became a prisoner of war! And Abraham had to rescue him.
Instead of heeding God’s warning, Lot went back into the city; and when God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah, Lot lost everything (Gen. 19). Lot was a saved man (2 Peter 2:7), but he trusted in the things of this world instead of trusting the Word of God. Lot forfeited the permanent because he depended on and lived for the immediate.
Martyred missionary Jim Elliot said it best: “He is no fool to give what he cannot keep, to gain what he cannot lose.”
Therefore, in seeking to apply 1:1–4 we must focus on the heart of this passage and consider how we might apply these supporting themes at the points the author himself highlights in subsections of the sermon.
The author does not use his ability with stylistic flair to impress but to rivet the hearers’ attention and center it on God’s act of communication, especially heard in the person, works, and status of the Son.
(1) The introduction to Hebrews boldly and artistically states that God is a communicator who has spoken to the church. This communication has progressed beyond, but has continuity with, the older covenant revelation in that God is still the one speaking and the Old Testament bears witness to the new era. (2) God has communicated ultimately in the person of his Son. This Son is proclaimed as one with, but distinct from, God the Father, having a nature, activity, and position that identify him with God. The person and work of the Son is brought to climax and focus in his exaltation to God’s right hand, a position of ultimate authority and honor in the universe.
This description of their earlier sufferings fits well into the picture of the hardships that came to Jewish Christians under Claudius in A.D. 49. Suetonius’ Life of the Deified Claudius records that “There were riots in the Jewish quarter at the instigation of Chrestus. As a result, Claudius expelled the Jews from Rome” (25.4). “Chrestus,” historians believe, is a reference to Christ, and the riots and expulsion occurred when Jewish Christians were banished from the synagogue by the Jewish establishment.
Now, as the author of Hebrews writes, fifteen years have gone by since the Claudian persecution, and a new persecution looms. No one has been killed yet, but 12:4 raises the possibility that martyrdom may soon come—“In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood.”
Lane proposes here that the circumstances accord well with the Neronian persecution that would come with the great fire of Rome in A.D. 64. The historian Tacitus records that Nero made the Christians scapegoats to remove suspicion from himself (Annals of Rome 15:44). Lane concludes, “In the year A.D. 64 martyrdom became an aspect of the Christian experience in Rome. There were several house-churches in the city, and the group addressed in Hebrews had not yet been affected by the emperor’s actions. But the threat of death and arrest was real.”
The writer of Hebrews was writing to admonish and encourage his friends, a small group of Jewish Christians who were scared stiff! Some had begun to avoid contact with outsiders. Some had even withdrawn from the worshiping community altogether (10:25). The author feared there might be those who, if arrested, would succumb to the conditions of release—a public denial of Christ (6:6; 10:29). The tiny home-church was asking some hard questions: Did God know what was going on? If so, how could this be happening to them? Did he care? Only God could protect them, but where was he? Why did he not answer? Why the silence of God?
Ingmar Bergman, the celebrated Swedish filmmaker, recounts that one day while he was listening to Stravinsky, he had a vision of a nineteenth-century cathedral. In the vision Bergman found himself wandering about a great building and finally coming before a picture of Christ. Realizing its importance, Bergman said to the picture, “Speak to me! I will not leave this cathedral until you speak to me!” But of course the picture did not speak. That same year he produced The Silence, a film about characters who despair of ever finding God.
Bergman’s problem was, he was looking at the wrong picture. Rather, he needed to listen to the massive eloquence of the Christ of Scripture—“in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son.” He needs to see the eloquence of Christ’s character and speech and actions and, above all, the sublime eloquence of the cross, for there he speaks salvation.
The apparent silence of God in the face of imminent persecution that troubled that tiny house-church two millennia ago provides a touch-point with today, for Ingmar Bergman well-represents our troubled world that bristles at the imagined silence of God. God has eloquently spoken to us in creation and through his prophets in the Old Testament and now, most of all, through the awesome eloquence of his Son.
The first divine activity commented on is that God has spoken in a variety of ways. He spoke to Moses in the burning bush (Exod 3:2ff.), to Elijah in a still, small voice (1 Kings 19:12ff.), to Isaiah in a vision in the temple (Isa 6:1ff.), to Hosea in his family circumstances (Hos 1:2), and to Amos in a basket of summer fruit (Amos 8:1). God might convey his message through visions and dreams, through angels, through Urim and Thummim, through symbols, natural events, ecstasy, a pillar of fire, smoke, or other means. He could appear in Ur of the Chaldees, in Haran, in Canaan, in Egypt, in Babylon. There is no lack of variety, for revelation is not a monotonous activity that must always take place in the same way. God used variety.
The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world. (Psalm 19:1–4)
God utilized great devices to instruct his prophets. God spoke to Moses at Sinai in thunder and lightning and with the voice of a trumpet. He whispered to Elijah at Horeb in “a still small voice” (1 Kings 19:12, KJV). Ezekiel was informed by visions and Daniel through dreams. God appeared to Abram in human form and to Jacob as an angel. God declared himself by Law, by warning, by exhortation, by type, by parable.
And when God’s seers prophesied, they utilized nearly every method to communicate their message. Amos gave direct oracles from God. Malachi used questions and answers. Ezekiel performed bizarre symbolic acts. Haggai preached sermons. And Zechariah employed mysterious signs.
The significance of this immensely creative and variegated communication is that it dramatically demonstrated God’s loving desire to communicate with his people. It was never hackneyed, never boring, never inscrutable, never irrelevant. It was always adequate for the time. It was always progressive, revealing more of God and his ways. It was always in continuity with the previous words of God.
Quoting from Ps. 45:6, 7, the writer argues for the deity and the lordship of the Son over creation (cf. v. 3). The text is all the more significant since the declaration of the Son’s deity is presented as the words of the Father Himself (cf. Is. 9:6; Jer. 23:5, 6; John 5:18; Titus 2:13; 1 John 5:20). It is clear that the writer of Hebrews had the 3 messianic offices in mind: Prophet (v. 1), Priest (v. 3), and King (vv. 3, 8). Induction into those 3 offices required anointing (v. 9). The title Messiah (Christ) means “anointed one” (cf. Is. 61:1–3; Luke 4:16–21).
Creator, Prophet, Priest, and King—Jesus Christ is superior to all of the prophets and servants of God who have ever appeared on the sacred pages of the Scriptures. It is no wonder that the Father said, at the hour of Christ’s transfiguration, “This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye Him” (Matt. 17:5). Two of the greatest prophets were there with Jesus—Moses and Elijah; but Christ is superior to them.
The Son is such a revelation of the Father that when we see Jesus, we see what God’s real being is.
His whole epistle shows that the thing that had gripped him was that the very Son of God had come to deal with the problem of man’s sin. He sees him as a priest and the essence of his priestly work as the offering of the sacrifice that really put sin away. The author has an unusual number of ways of referring to what Christ has done for man: The Savior made a propitiation for sins (2:17). He put sins away so that God remembers them no more (8:12; 10:17). He bore sin (9:28), he offered a sacrifice (thysia) for sins (10:12), he made an offering (prosphora) for sin (10:18), and brought about remission of sin (10:18). He annulled sin by his sacrifice (9:26). He brought about redemption from transgressions (9:15). In other passages the author speaks of a variety of things the former covenant could not do with respect to sin, the implication in each case being that Christ has now done it (e.g., 10:2, 4, 6, 11). It is clear from all this that the author sees Jesus as having accomplished a many-sided salvation. Whatever had to be done about sin he has done.
The word “purification” (katharismos) is most often used in the NT of ritual cleansing (e.g., Mark 1:44), but here (and in 2 Peter 1:9) it refers to the removal of sin. It also points to the defiling aspect of sin. Sin stains. But Christ has effected a complete cleansing. The verb “provided” is in the aorist tense; the cleansing in question, being based on a past action, is complete. The purification was accomplished at Calvary. The genitive “of sins” probably means that Christ took the sins away rather than that the person was cleansed “from sins.” The word for sin (hamartia) occurs in this epistle twenty-five times, a total exceeded only by Romans with forty-eight. The author sees hamartia (“sin”) as a great problem; and in this epistle “sin appears as the power that deceives men and leads them to destruction, whose influence and activity can be ended only by sacrifices” (BAG, s.v.). But the usual sacrifices could not remove sin, and it is the author’s conviction that Jesus Christ was needed to remove it. In him and him alone are sins really dealt with.
The seventh in the series of statements about the Son is that when his work of purification was ended, “he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven.” Sitting is the posture of rest, and the right-hand position is the place of honor. Sitting at God’s right hand, then, is a way of saying that Christ’s saving work is done and that he is now in the place of highest honor. By contrast, the posture for a priest is standing (10:11). The word translated “Majesty” (megalōsynē) appears again in the NT only in 8:1; Jude 25. It means “greatness” and thus came to signify “majesty.”
Christ is presented here as the ultimate Word of God; ancient Judaism identified God’s Word with his Wisdom. That God had created all things through Wisdom or his Word was noted in the Old Testament (e.g., Prov 8:30; Ps 33:6, alluding to Gen 1) and developed further in Judaism. As the fullness of the Word, Christ was superior to the authentic but partial revelation of God in the law.
His sitting indicates that, unlike Old Testament priests who never sat when making sacrifices, Jesus has finished his work. There is no other sacrifice for sin besides Jesus’ offering of himself to God on the cross. And because of where he sat—at God’s right hand, the place of greatest honor and authority in the universe—his work is perfect. It cannot be improved upon. And because his work is finished and perfect, it is effective to forgive sins.
various ways. These included visions, symbols, and parables, written in both poetry and prose. Though the literary form and style varied, it was always God’s revelation of what He wanted His people to know. The progressive revelation of the OT described God’s program of redemption (1 Pet. 1:10–12) and His will for His people (Rom. 15:4; 2 Tim. 3:16, 17).
sat down at the right hand. The right hand is the place of power, authority, and honor (cf. v. 13; Rom. 8:34; 1 Pet. 3:22). It is also the position of subordination, implying that the Son is under the authority of the Father (cf. 1 Cor. 15:27, 28). The seat that Christ has taken is the throne of God (8:1; 10:12; 12:2) where He rules as sovereign Lord. This depicts a victorious Savior, not a defeated martyr. While the primary thrust of this phrase is the enthronement of Christ, His sitting might also imply the completion of His atoning work.
Cambridge physicist Stephen Hawking, who has been called “the most brilliant theoretical physicist since Einstein,” says in his best-selling A Brief History of Time that our galaxy is an average-sized spiral galaxy that looks to other galaxies like a swirl in a pastry roll and that it is over 100,000 light-years across —about six hundred trillion miles. He says, “We now know that our galaxy is only one of some hundred thousand million that can be seen using modern telescopes, each galaxy itself containing some hundred thousand million stars.” 7 It is commonly held that the average distance between these hundred thousand million galaxies (each six hundred trillion miles across and containing one hundred thousand million stars) is three million light-years! On top of that, the work of Edwin Hubble, based on the Doppler effect, has shown that all red-spectrumed galaxies are moving away from us—and that nearly all are red. Thus, the universe is constantly expanding. Some estimates say that the most distant galaxy is eight billion light-years away—and racing away at two hundred million miles an hour. Finally, the fact of the expanding universe demands a beginning, though Hawking now doubts that a Big Bang was its beginning.9
We have recited all this to emphasize the stupendous creative power of Christ. He created every speck of dust in the hundred thousand million galaxies of the universe. He created every atom—the sub-microscopic solar systems with their whimsically named quarks (from James Joyce’s Three Quarks for Master Mark) and leptons (the same Greek word used for the widow’s mite) and electrons and neutrinos (“little neutral ones”)—all of which have no measurable size.
This stupendous reality is richly corroborated by other cosmic statements in the New Testament.
Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. (John 1:3)
There is but one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom all things came and through whom we live. (1 Corinthians 8:6)
For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen. (Romans 11:36)
He is not passively sustaining the universe like “Atlas sustaining the dead weight of the world.” Rather, he is actively holding up all things. He does it by his spoken word. The writer is very specific here. He does not use logos (“word”), which is used to indicate revelation, but rhema (“word”), the spoken word. Just as the universe was called into existence with a spoken word, so it is sustained by the utterance of the Son. The Colossian hymn of creation sings of his sustaining power: “He is before all things, and in him all things hold together” (1:17). He holds all those quarks and leptons of the microcosm together by the mysterious coulomb electrical force he made and maintains, and he likewise sustains the fleeing galaxies of the universe.
He is Ruler. The overarching significance here is that priests never sat down. Levitical priests always were standing, standing, standing—because no sacrifice was complete. The borders of the high priest’s garment was sewn with bells so the people could hear him moving inside the Holy of Holies—and thus know he had not been struck dead. See him enter the Holy Place trembling as he bore the sacrificial blood before the glowing mercy-seat. There he entered and stood year after year, high priest after high priest, for the work was never done.
• Inheritor. As Creator he is heir to the universe. As Redeemer he bought our souls and so made us his personal inheritance.
• Creator. He created the universe’s one hundred thousand million galaxies, each with a hundred thousand million stars, each six hundred trillion miles across—and each fleeing away in never-ending expansion. Awesome!
• Sustainer. He is sustaining the galloping galaxies as well as the sub-microscopic universe of atoms—all by his spoken word.
• Radiator. Like the sun, he is the source and radiator of divine glory—not a reflection, but part of it! He is God.
• Representor. He is the exact representation of the Father’s being. He is everything God is, yet separate. He is with God.
• Purifier. He is the cosmic sacrifice who paid for our sins with his blood in order to purify us.
• Ruler. He sits, having paid for our sins once and for all, as the supreme priest. He is at the right hand of Majesty in ineffable exaltation. And wonder of wonders, he prays for us.
(3) Four participial clauses flank and support the author’s next main statement concerning the Son’s exaltation to the right hand of God (1:4). The first of these deals with the Son’s divine nature: He “is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being.” The two parts of this statement affirm the same truth. In biblical literature the “glory” often refers to the luminous manifestation of God’s person. The word translated “radiance” (apaugasma), used only here in the New Testament, carries the sense of “splendor” or “intense brightness.” One cannot separate the experience of looking at the brightness of a light from seeing the light itself because they are too closely associated. By analogy, to see the Son is to view God’s glory or manifest presence. So as the “radiance of his glory” the Son is the manifestation of the person and presence of God (e.g., Luke 9:32; John 1:14; 2:11; 17:5; Rom. 8:17; 1 Cor. 2:8; Phil. 3:21; 2 Thess. 2:14).
(5) “Purification for sins” constitutes one of the author’s major concerns (see esp. 9:1–10:18, which addresses the superior offering for sin under the new covenant).
How much greater is his position? “As much superior … as the name he inherited is superior to theirs.” The first word translated “superior” in 1:4 (kreitton) is the author’s favorite when drawing attention to the preeminence of Christ and the new covenant religion. Christ is a superior priest (7:7); Christ’s followers have a superior hope (7:19) because they are involved in the Son’s superior covenant (7:22; 8:6), which is based on superior promises (8:6); Christ made a superior sacrifice (9:23; 12:24); therefore, believers have a superior possession (10:34), a superior country (11:16), a superior resurrection (11:35), and a superior privilege (11:40). A comparative, the other term translated “superior” (diaphoroteron), can also be rendered “more excellent” and is used again at 8:6 to describe Christ’s ministry in comparison with the old covenant system.
Although this chapter mentions Christ’s prophetic and priestly offices, its major idea is his royal office. He inherits the name of divine Son (King) when he sits at God’s right hand (vv. 3–5). In this way he surpasses the angels who, as creatures and servants of God, worship the Son. His throne lasts forever and his rule is righteous. This means that he has the right to command and the power to rescue.
1:7. Although Psalm 104:4 could mean that God uses winds and fire as his messengers, Jewish writers in the first century commonly took the text the other way and often thus suggested that angels were made of fire. (This notion also fit some Greek speculations about the elements. For many, the soul was made of fire—like the stars—or breath; for Stoics, the whole world would be resolved back into the primordial fire from which it had come.) The writer’s point is simply that angels are subordinate to God in character, in contrast to the Son (1:8).
1:14. He already proved to his readers that angels were “ministering spirits” in 1:7. That they minister not only on behalf of the one who inherited a greater name (1:4) but also for those who inherit salvation (v. 14) would resonate with Jewish readers, who would be familiar with the concept of guardian angels assigned to the righteous by God.
1:13, 14 The writer re-emphasizes the lordship of the Son by quoting Ps. 110:1. While Christ’s destiny is to reign (cf. v. 3; Matt. 22:44; Acts 2:35), the angels’ destiny is to serve the recipients of salvation (see note on 1 Cor. 6:3). This is the seventh and final quotation from the OT to bolster the argument that as Son and Lord the Messiah is superior to the angels.
1:6. The prerogatives of the One who bears this superlative title are set forth beginning with this verse. Instead of the NIV‘s And again, when God brings His Firstborn into the world, it would be preferable to translate, “and when He again brings the Firstborn into the world.” The reference is to the Second Advent when the kingly prerogatives of the Son will be recognized with open angelic worship (cf. Ps. 97:7 where the LXX rendering “angels” correctly renders the text).
That the readers were under external pressure there is little reason to doubt. They had endured persecution in the past and were exhorted not to give up now (Heb. 10:32–36). Here the writer reminded them that the final victory over all enemies belongs to God’s King and that the angels presently serve those who are destined to share in that victory, that is, to “inherit salvation.”
This long section on angels is divided into three sections. First, there is an affirmation (Heb. 1:4–14) of the superiority of Christ to the angels. The proof presented consists of seven quotations from the Old Testament. Second, there is an exhortation (Heb. 2:1–4) that the readers (and this includes us) pay earnest heed to the Word God has given through His Son. Finally, there is an explanation (Heb. 2:5–18) as to how Christ, with a human body, could still be superior to angels who are spirits.
He sits in royal state; they, however, are no more than servants. “All” applies without distinction. Not only are they servants, but they are servants of saved men. “Spirits” preserves their place of dignity, but their function is service (eis diakonian, “to serve”). Diakonia is the usual NT term for the service Christians render God and man, but nowhere else is it used of the service angels render.
Angels definitely can be awesome. But what are angels? What does God’s Word tell us? Angels are mentioned over one hundred times in the Old Testament and more than 160 times in the New Testament. They exist in vast numbers. On one occasion they are described as assembling in a great throng “numbering thousands upon thousands, and ten thousand times ten thousand” (Revelation 5:11). In most cases they are invisible, as was the experience of Balaam when the Lord had to open his eyes so he could see the angel blocking his way (Numbers 22:31). Or consider Elisha’s servant who had his eyes opened so he could see that he was protected by encircling chariots of fire (2 Kings 6:17).
Ordinarily when angels are visible, they have a human-like appearance and are often mistaken for men (see Genesis 18:2; 19:1, 2; Mark 16:5). Sometimes they have shined with glorious light (Matthew 28:3; Luke 2:9). Other times they have appeared as fabulous winged creatures—seraphim and cherubim (Exodus 25:20; Isaiah 6:2). The Hebrew word for angel is malak and the Greek angelos. Both mean “messenger,” designating their essential functions as divine message-bearers. As God’s messengers they can wield immense power—for example, staying entire armies (2 Kings 19:35) or delivering captives (Acts 12:7–11).
Regarding angels’ specific function, there are at least four:
1) Angels continuously worship and praise the God they serve (Job 38:7; Psalm 103:20; Isaiah 6:1–3; Revelation 4:8; 5:9–12).
2) Angels communicate God’s message to man. They assisted in bringing the Law (Acts 7:38, 53). Angels revealed the future to Daniel and to the Apostle John (Daniel 10:10–15; Revelation 17:1; 21:9; 22:16). Gabriel announced the births of both John the Baptist and Jesus (Matthew 1:19–24; Luke 1:11–28; 2:9–12).
3) Angels minister to believers. “The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and he delivers them” (Psalm 34:7). “For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone” (Psalm 91:11, 12). Angels have dramatically delivered believers from prison (Acts 5:19; 12:6–11). Angels rejoice at the conversion of sinners (Luke 15:10). They are present within the Church (1 Corinthians 11:10). They watch the lives of believers with interest (1 Corinthians 4:9; 1 Timothy 5:21). They carry believers away at death to the place of blessedness (Luke 16:22).
4) Angels will be God’s agents in the final earthly judgments and Second Coming. They will call forth the elect with a loud trumpet from the four winds (Matthew 24:31; 1 Thessalonians 4:16, 17) and will then separate the wheat from the chaff (Matthew 13:39–42). The book of Revelation tells us they will open the seals, blow the trumpets, and pour out the bowls of wrath. They will also execute the judgment against Satan and his servants (Revelation 19:17–20:3, 10).
Its obvious application is to the angelic worship that had its first occurrence on earth at the Incarnation when all God’s angels worshiped Christ as “Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest’ ” (Luke 2:13, 14a). Jesus was undoubtedly worshiped by angels in eternity past; he was worshiped by angels during his thirty-three years on earth; and he is worshiped in eternity present—a worship to which we have been given a dizzy glimpse:
Then I looked and heard the voice of many angels, numbering thousands upon thousands, and ten thousand times ten thousand. They encircled the throne and the living creatures and the elders. In a loud voice they sang:
“Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!”
Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and on the sea, and all that is in them, singing:
“To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be praise and honor and glory and power, for ever and ever!”
(Revelation 5:11–13)
Angels (unless they are fallen angels) do not worship other angels, for that would be angelolatry! The only one they can and do worship is God. Our job is to lift up Jesus!
On a dark night about a hundred years ago, a Scottish missionary couple found themselves surrounded by cannibals intent on taking their lives. That terror-filled night they fell to their knees and prayed that God would protect them. Intermittent with their prayers, the missionaries heard the cries of the savages and expected them to come through the door at any moment.
But as the sun began to rise, to their astonishment they found that the natives were retreating into the forest. The couple’s hearts soared to God. It was a day of rejoicing!
The missionaries bravely continued their work. A year later the chieftain of that tribe was converted. As the missionary spoke with him, he remembered the horror of that night. He asked the chieftain why he and his men had not killed them. The chief replied, “Who were all those men who were with you?” The missionary answered, “Why, there were no men withus. There were just my wife and myself.” The chieftain began to argue with him, saying, “There were hundreds of tall men in shining garments with drawn swords circling about your house, so we could not attack you.”
This story, recorded in Billy Graham’s book Angels, is one of the great tales of missionary history. The missionary was the “legendary” John G. Paton of the New Hebrides.
In 1956 during the Mau Mau uprisings in East Africa, a band of roving Mau Maus came to the village of Lauri, surrounded it, and killed every inhabitant including women and children, 300 in all. Not more than three miles away was the Rift Valley Academy, a private school where missionary children were being educated. Immediately upon leaving the carnage of Lauri the natives came with spears, bows and arrows, clubs, and torches to the school with violent intentions.
In the darkness lighted torches were seen coming toward the school. Soon there was a complete ring of terrorists around the academy, cutting off all avenues of escape. Shouts and curses could be heard coming from the Mau Maus. They began to advance on the school, tightening the circle, shouting louder and louder, coming closer. Then inexplicably, when they were close enough to throw spears, they stopped. They began retreating and soon were running into the jungle. The army was called out and fortunately captured the entire band of raiders. Later, at their trial, the leader was called to the witness stand. The judge questioned him: “On this particular night, did you kill the inhabitants of Lauri?” “Yes.” “Well, then, why did you not complete the mission? Why didn’t you attack the school?” The leader of the Mau Maus answered, “We were on our way to attack and destroy all the people and school… but as we came closer, all of a sudden, between us and the school there were many huge men, dressed in white with flaming swords and we became afraid and ran to hide!”
Pastor’s Story File, March 1987, “Angels,” Vol. 3, No. 5, p. 1. The story was recounted by Phil Plotts, son of veteran missionary,
Jim Marstaller recounts the following story, told to him by his “Uncle Clyde,” Clyde Taylor, founder of the National Association of Evangelicals:
Dr. Clyde Taylor, who married my grandfather’s sister… and my Uncle Charlie Marstaller were missionaries in the early 1920’s to a head hunting tribe in South America. They were beside a river in the forest living in a thatched hut.
One day, late in the afternoon, they noticed a dugout being paddled down the river with only one man in it. Their immediate thought was that the warriors were coming to kill them that night. The dugout could hold over 40 men and they realized that the men were probably going to try to kill them that night.
Uncle Clyde and Charlie had a .22 rifle in their hut and took it and some ammo out into the tall grass off to the side of their dwelling. There they stayed all night, in their own private prayer meeting, expecting that if attacked they would fire the gun into the air to frighten the head-hunters.
Nothing happened that night and they had no trouble with the tribe for the rest of their term in South America.
They both returned home after their term was over, and it wasn’t until 9 years later that Clyde was able to visit the field. One day he encountered one of the men from the tribe who had since become a Christian; so he asked the native about what happened that night.
The former head-hunter said, “I remember that night, there were 44 of us and we were coming to set fire to your hut. When we got there and surrounded the hut we realized we could not attack because there were hundreds of men, dressed in white, with swords and shields, standing all around your hut and even on the roof. That is why I am a Christian now.”
Uncle Clyde realized then that God had protected them with His angels and used this account to be an encouragement to many others throughout the rest of his life.
Jim Marstaller, in a letter dated December 14, 1990.
What astounding stories! And what a unified witness not only to the power of angels, but to the superiority of Christ who makes his “angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation” (v. 14).
The message to the harried, trembling church of the writer’s day, and to the Church universal, is this: Our superior Christ has assigned his angels to minister to you. And if he wills, he can deliver you anytime and anywhere he wishes. Christ is superior to everything. He is adequate in your hour of need. You must believe it, and trust him with all you are and have.
The first pair (Ps. 2:7; 2 Sam. 7:14) proclaims the Son’s superiority by virtue of his unique relationship to the Father (Heb. 1:5). The second (Ps. 97:7; 104:4) focuses attention on the angels’ positive, but inferior, position and ministry (Heb. 1:6–7). The Son’s eternality constitutes the topic of the third pair of texts (Ps. 45:6–7; 102:25–27).
But what of the temporal imagery in these two texts? What does it mean that God has “become” the Son’s Father “today” and that he “will be” his Father? These, of course, are not references to a bringing into existence, nor what some in the church would later call “the eternal generation of the Son,” speaking of the eternal nature of the relationship between God and his Messiah. We have already seen that Jesus was considered the Son prior to creation itself and is later referred to as “Son” in the Incarnation (e.g., Heb. 5:8). Rather, the early church understood these passages to refer to Jesus’ induction into his royal position as King of the universe at the resurrection and exaltation. With these events God vindicated Jesus as Messiah and established his eternal kingdom (see Acts 13:32–34; Rom. 1:4). God’s becoming the Son’s Father, then, refers to God’s open expression of their relationship upon Christ’s enthronement, an interpretation that fits both Old Testament contexts in question.
The preacher marshals these Old Testament quotations to provide a clear picture of the status of the angels relative to the Son. The Son sits at the preeminent position in the universe, with the angels in an inferior position as the servants who worship him. The Son has an eternal throne, from which the angels are sent out to minister. God has never spoken such proclamations as found in 1:5, 8–13 to the angels. Rather, his proclamations concerning them (1:6–7) show the angels’ inferiority. The Son alone is the favored object of divine decrees expressing royalty. By the end of this string of texts, no one in the author’s audience can doubt the superiority of the Son over the angels.
These beings have specific functions in the mind of this preacher, especially the worship of God and ministry to his people.
The listeners were overwhelmed with the sense that forces around them were out of their control. Therefore, they questioned God’s control of their circumstances (e.g., 2:8–9).
These assumptions concerning the Old Testament and reality as the readers were experiencing it provide a theological framework from which the author approaches his material in 1:5–14. He presents his message with the conviction and vigor of one convinced that his worldview reflects reality.