I have to be honest with you––

I found preparing this week’s sermon quite hard to do.

To start with…

I couldn’t find––

or I couldn’t think of––

some interesting or quirky way with which to begin.

And yet, that wasn’t the real difficulty that I’m talking about.

Rather, I found it hard to prepare a sermon on this reading.

Now…

that wasn’t because this morning’s reading from the book of Hebrews is particularly difficult…

in and of itself.

Apart from the slightly cryptic references to someone by the name of “Melchizedek”…

which I’m not going to go into because––

while it was of particular interest to the author––

frankly, it’s rather boring, especially for us, today.

But, apart from that, the reading is actually pretty straight forward.

It’s not as though our reading is particularly difficult grammatically- or linguistically-speaking.

And it’s not as though our reading is particularly dense theologically-speaking.

Because it’s not.

And, sure…

there are some cute little nuances that I could draw out…

but they don’t fundamentally alter the meaning of the reading.

And the meaning is pretty clear.

Once again, the author is reflecting upon the role of Jesus as our “Great High Priest”.

In fact, that’s the central focus from the beginning of chapter four…

right through until the end of chapter ten.

There are seven whole chapters devoted to the minutiae of how Jesus is our Great High Priest…

and why the author thinks that’s important.

But it makes my job…

as a preacher…

rather difficult.

 

Indeed, as a preacher, the book of Hebrews… 

as a whole… 

is a very frustrating piece of work––

that’s why I have avoided it until now…

despite having studied it when I did my Honours programme.

It’s a frustrating piece of work because the author is fascinated by–– 

and relies heavily upon–– 

images of the Jerusalem Temple and the way that it operated…

in order to construct his argument.

And, let’s be honest, that’s not really very interesting…

let alone very relevant…

to most non-academic theologians today.

It’s a frustrating piece of work because the author spends three chapters describing…

in minutiae…

what it means for Jesus to be “Son of God”––

in a functional but not an existential or what’s called an “ontological” sense;

then, as I said, he spends seven chapters describing… 

in minutiae…

what it means for Jesus to be our “High Priest”;

before he concludes with three chapters exhorting his readers…

to a life of faith and perseverance––

based on those two images of Jesus and his function…

or his role.

 

And I understand why he’s doing it.

While he’s clearly been educated in Greek philosophy…

he comes from a Hebrew background.

And…

it seems most likely that he’s writing to people who… similarly… 

come from a Hebrew background.

And it appears that they’re experiencing ostracism…

even persecution…

because of their faith in Jesus Christ.

And–– 

because of the suffering, ostracism, and persecution that they’re experiencing––

they’re tempted simply to return to the safety of the synagogue…

and the Hebrew community…

as a means of avoiding all of that.

So, in this book––

which, as I said a couple of weeks ago…

is a sermon rather than a letter––

he’s trying to convince them that they can’t or they shouldn’t go back…

because Jesus offers them something distinctively better.

So… 

given that whole background… 

that’s why here…

in our reading this morning––

like in our reading last week––

his whole point seems to be that Jesus is our High Priest.

Jesus understands what it means to be human.

He’s not “out of touch” with our experience…

because he’s experienced what we have too.

He’s been through what we have.

He’s experienced suffering–– 

perhaps even more than what most or all of us have…

but he’s done so without faltering or wavering or giving up.

As I said, I get what the author’s doing here…

and why.

But that doesn’t make it easy for me, today, to prepare something that’s helpful for you.

Because there’s really nothing that’s particularly new here…

nothing that he hasn’t said already––

albeit in a slightly different way…

or with slightly different words.

And he’s certainly labouring the point:

Jesus, as our High Priest, has suffered;

he understands;

he knows what it is that you’re going through…

and, as a result, so does God;

trust in that…

trust in him…

and keep going.

 

As I said, he’s certainly labouring the point.

 

And, maybe, that’s the point.

 

After all, in their suffering…

in their ostracism…

in their strained relationships…

in their grief…

they’re afraid.

And they’re probably feeling isolated and misunderstood.

And isn’t that a common experience?

C. S. Lewis once observed that grief feels a lot like fear.

While David Kessler––

who, along with Elisabeth Kübler-Ross has done most to explain the whole grief process––

defines grief as “a change we didn’t want”.

In grief, the world that we knew…

the life that we knew…

has been taken from us.

And, in the process, we lose a sense of who we are…

or, our sense of the world…

and our sense of ourselves and our identity…

change…

or are called into question.

And, along with that…

when we feel pain, when we feel loss…

it’s a common experience to feel that no one understands you;

that no one in the world knows or understands your pain;

that no one understands what it is that you’re going through.

And while we’re indebted to Kübler-Ross for outlining the grief process––

that we go through stages of denial…

and anger…

and bargaining…

and depression…

and, finally, acceptance…

although we don’t necessarily go through each of those stages in a straightforward, linear way––

David Kessler suggests that there is a vital sixth stage.

That is…

our grief will not be fully resolved until we find some meaning from it;

until, in a sense, we are able to reconstruct a sense of self…

and a sense of the world…

out of that change…

out of that sense of pain, and suffering, and loss.

 

And… 

perhaps… 

the starting point for that process of reconstruction is the awareness…

that…

ultimately…

we are not alone;

that our experience is not completely unique;

that someone does understand what we’re going through;

that someone else has also been through this…

and come out the other side…

and that we’re going to be okay.

 

And, I think…

that’s the point that the author of Hebrews is trying to make…

through his laboured image of Jesus as our High Priest.

Whatever it is that you have experienced;

whatever pain you might feel;

whatever you have suffered;

whatever it is that you are grieving…

Jesus understands.

And, as a result, so does God.

Take courage…

and hold on.

You are not alone.