
Hebrews 2:5-9
Now it was not to angels that God subjected the world to come, of which we are speaking. It has been testified somewhere, what is man that you are mindful of him, or the son of man that you care for him? You have made him a little lower than the angels; you have crowned him with glory and honor, putting everything in subjection under his feet. Now in putting everything in subjection to him, he left nothing outside of his control. At present, we do not see everything in subjection to him. But we see him who for a little while was made lower than the angels, namely Jesus, crowned with glory and honor because of the suffering of death, so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone.
I love New York City. Both my siblings and their families have lived there over the past ten years, and thus I have had multiple opportunities to visit. The city has become one of John Mark and my favorite places to travel to, and it really breaks my heart to think of what is happening there right now. The loss of life, and the loss of many of the things that make a life—community, worship, work, fun. It is hard to see pictures of a hospital in Central Park, an empty Park Ave, and a dark Broadway. These images stir up in us that deep longing for sickness and sorrow and death to be no more, and for life to be restored—both in the right now and in the ultimate sense. They stir up in us heartbreak, and they also stir up in us hope—sure hope that what we celebrated yesterday is true. In his resurrection, Jesus has defeated sin and death, and he will come again to make all things new!
One of my favorite aspects of traveling to New York is the view you get of Manhattan as you come in on the plane. Especially when traveling in from Chattanooga, this aerial view of the city can be an awe-inspiring sight. The skyscrapers are majestic and endless. The city blocks are all in order. It is exciting to pick out your favorite landmarks from the sky—Central Park, Yankee Stadium, the Brooklyn Bridge, or the Statue of Liberty.
The view from above the ground is quite different than the view you get on the streets. On the street level nearly every building looks the same. Without looking up, it is nearly impossible to tell the Empire State Building from a normal corporate office—that is except for tour buses and the long lines of people with their iPhones out. The street level can be busy, noisy, and messy. For us tourists, the street level can be confusing. For many residents of this great city, life at the street level can be hard. Not so from a few hundred feet above the ground. The view from above the ground has order, it has beauty, and is pretty glorious.
In this passage, the author of Hebrews gives us a view from above the ground. He gives us a view from above the place where things are lonely, broken, painful, and sad. He gives us a view from the throne of Christ—where the risen and reigning King sits, crowned with glory and honor, where everything is in his control and under his authority. This view was intended to impart hope to a body of struggling believers who were on the verge of giving up and abandoning their faith. Wherever we find ourselves this morning—weary, lonely, fearful, angry, sad—this view of Jesus Christ sitting on his throne is intended to impart hope to our hearts as well.
Our hope is grounded in the authority possessed by our risen and reigning Savior. Four times in these short verses we see some form of the word “subjected.” The repetition impresses the theme of the power, authority, and control of Jesus Christ. Three times it is written that everything is in subjection to him. This word is so familiar to us that we can easily miss the vastness of its scope. It is all-encompassing. The Greek word here for “everything” is ta panta, and nearly every time it is used throughout the New Testament, it has the entire universe in view. Consider its use in Colossians 1:
For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities- all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him, all things hold together. (ESV)
All things have been subjected to Jesus, both in our lives and in our world. He rules over them all with authority and power and with goodness. This subjection is sure. His authority is absolute. This is our view from above the ground.
The view of our risen and reigning King is glorious. But the reality is that we are living life here on the ground, at the street level. As we hear these words, these glorious truths during this season, a catalog can run through our minds of all the realities that are difficult to see how they are under his control and authority—the loneliness and loss. The sickness and sadness and death. The growing physical needs around us. The uncertainty of what the future holds; how long this will continue to go on; what life will look like when it is all over. Questions that we cannot answer weigh upon our minds—Why? How? How long?
It was to these questions that I found the passage to speak most powerfully. For the author of Hebrews knows he is writing to people on the ground level, the place where the world is broken and the place where life is hard. He does not write in order to urge us to disregard all of the difficult things in our lives with a flippant answer that God is in control. But rather, he writes to give us hope in the midst of what is real, what is human, and what is hard. We see this in the way he anticipates our questions. He writes, “At present, we do not yet see everything in subjection to him. . . . ” The reality of Christ’s authority does not make light of our trials, our struggles, our pain, but rather gives weight to it and hope in the midst of it. How? Through what the author writes next…
. . .But we see him. . . .
My dad is one of my heroes and a pastor. If I remember anything he preached growing up, it was that but was the most beautiful word in all the Scriptures. But signals God, in some gracious and glorious way, entering into our reality. This is what we see in these verses, “But we see him.” We see one who knows our experience, who was made lower than the angels, who was made like us, who took on sorrow and sin, and suffered death in our place. This is what we have pondered and celebrated in this past week. But. . . .
The cross, however, was not the end of the story. Though we celebrated Easter most abnormally yesterday, the resurrection is no less true. He has defeated sin and suffering and death. And now he sits—crowned with glory and honor and in control of all things.
He is crowned with glory and honor because of the suffering of death. Christ’s suffering is part of his glory. Tim Keller has often said that for Jesus the way to the crown came by way of the cross. The same is true for us. God is using our present afflictions, whatever they may be, to prepare us for “an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.” (2 Corinthians 4:17) We can have sure hope that this is true for us because it was the pattern of our Savior, too.
As we live life on the ground, in these trying, fearful, and often monotonous days, our hope must be one that looks up. Our hope is in the view, not from where we sit, but from above the ground. Our hope is fixed upon the one who has endured the cross and is now crowned with glory and honor. Our hope is that all things are subjected to his power, and goodness, and sovereignty, and nothing is outside of his control. Our hope is that he has promised to come again to where we are. We look forward to that great and glorious day, when heaven comes to earth, and the view from above the ground becomes the view from where we stand!