By Faith: Isaiah 5: 1-7; Hebrews 11:29-12:2
Sarah was a good, old-fashioned, Appalachian woman. She was a short but strong lady who wore long dresses, had small, rimless glasses, and knew how to raise some vegetables in a garden and can every single one of them. She was a quiet woman with a big, warm smile that made you happy to see her. But most importantly, Sarah was what I would call a prayer warrior. She prayed for everybody, all the time. When she was waking up and making breakfast, she was praying, in her alone time—she was praying, as she canned beans, tomatoes, beets, okra, and everything else,—she was praying. In everything she did every day she found a way to incorporate prayer or have some sort of talk with God.
And her prayers were never selfish. When she became very ill several years ago, she was asked whether she prayed for God to heal her in all those prayer times. She replied, “Certainly, not! That’s my time to pray for others. God knows what I need. I don’t have to ask.” I’ve always wondered how she managed to do that. What exactly kept her so grounded, so in tune with God in this way. She actually had a simple answer. She’d shrug and say, “It’s by faith. Read Hebrews.”
If we are wise in life, we will look back on the folks like that and ask, “What can their faith teach us?” or “How can their lives of faith inspire us?” We will look for the lesson, then act on it. Such people are what we are told in Hebrews 12 are the “huge crowd of witnesses,” whether living or deceased, who teach us ways to deepen our own faith and trust in God. Hebrews 12 tells us, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us.”
In order to survive here on earth, we will need endurance. When I was 20, I used to think life was a sprint. You run from one thing to the next, chugging a long, getting everything done, enjoying daytime naps because you stayed up all night partying with friends. Now in my 30s, I’ve learned that life is more a long-endurance run. You need the training, the support, and the stamina to withstand life’s troubles for the long-run. You may run from one thing to the next, but it feels like you’re in six races, in different states, all being run at the same time in different directions; you get nothing done; and you take daytime naps because you have to, not because you were having fun.
We see that endurance in the saints who have gone before us and in the saints around us. Hebrews recalls stories of how the people of Israel overcame: miraculous trudging across the Red Sea when God parted the waters; conquering Jericho simply by God’s miracle of bringing down the wall; being able to send in spies to Jericho because God had worked a miracle in Rahab’s heart; and finally a whole list of saints whose lives of faith coupled with God’s miraculous works produced extraordinary things. It takes both of these: we have to be prepared to go “by faith,” and we have to be in-tune with God to expect and trust in the miracles God will work around us.
Isaiah gives us the warning of what happens when we fail in this respect of trusting and walking in faith. We are given a song about a vineyard which was cultivated in love. There are abundant details of fertile soil, best vines planted, careful watching, some of the best farming descriptions I’ve seen. This person knew how to plant a good vineyard, and you know what he or she got? Bitter grapes. It’s symbolic of life too. Sometimes, no matter how hard God works in our lives or how hard we work to help others, we still end up with a bunch of bitter grapes.
That…doesn’t turn out well. So here’s what happens: the vineyard is torn down and destroyed, walls pulled apart, trampled by animals, briers and thorns abundant, dried up with drought, and just plain nasty. Don’t let that be the description of our faith, the ultimate way our lives turn out all because of bitter grapes. We are told the path Israel took. God expected justice and found oppression. God expected righteousness and found violence and people dead in their faith. And so, they end up in ruin.
But we must be inspired not to turn out that way—bitter, thorny, desolate, and empty of God’s goodness hostile to and abandoned by the one who loves us so very much. There are many who have surely struggled for their faith and in spite of their trust in God. Look at Hebrews, death, fire, lions, oppression, poverty, abuse—so many suffered in the saints who have gone on. I spoke with someone who had bitter grapes once. No matter what I said, what prayers we prayed, what encouragement was given, it all came back to the same thing: there was one thing in life they wanted they couldn’t get and had a chip on their shoulder believing that God was no good because of their “struggle.”
Finally, at my wits end, and frankly, ready to destroy the bitter vineyard of grapes myself, I said, “Until you have been thrown into a giant amphitheater to be tortured and killed, I don’t want to hear that your life is too hard to bear.” Not exactly the best counseling technique, but sorry, not sorry.
Instead we should remember the saints who inspire us, who teach us, then we should put into practice what we have learned. I’ve seen many people of faith whose have endured great hardship, suffering, and struggle in life. And yet, they kept their eyes fixed on Jesus to strengthen and help them, and they spoke, sang, and told their story of love and redemption over, and over, and over. The secret to this life is not to find a way to fix all your problems, but to remember all of our problems will wash away in the grace of Christ. Therefore, there is no reason to let them rule our lives here on earth, for God will either deliver us in this life, or will deliver us in glory unto the next.
Sarah was a prayer warrior. Another from my childhood visited the hospital weekly showing love and care to the sick; another fixed cakes and meals for every hurting family around; another shared her faith in song and music; another quietly served doing all the little things to help out, the unsung hero; and another, and another. The lesson for us is clear, we see these saints before us and around us who teach us what faith looks like, inspire us to new and bold ways of sharing our own faith, and remind us to keep our eyes on Jesus as we run the race of endurance here on earth below. Though troubles come, though suffering will happen, this is my story, this is my song: praising my Savior, all the day long.