Drawing on Pastor David Jang’s sermon,
this reflection follows Moses and the heroes of faith in Hebrews 11 to meditate
deeply on the fear of God, obedience, suffering, and the hope of the gospel.
The scene of Martin Luther standing
before the Diet of Worms in 1521 has long remained a defining image of faith.
Before him stood the authority of an emperor, and behind him lay a price from
which there could be no return. Yet what ultimately held fast to his soul was
not the majesty of the world, but a conscience standing before God. This sermon
on Hebrews 11 begins precisely there. Faith is not vague optimism, but the
direction of the soul that decides whom it will fear more. Through the story of
Moses, Pastor David Jang, founder of Olivet University, powerfully testifies
that true faith begins by fearing God above the commands of the world.
A Fear Deeper Than the Decree of an Empire
When the writer of Hebrews speaks of
Moses, the first spotlight falls not on the achievements of a great leader, but
on the faith of the parents who hid and held him. At a time when a decree of
death covered the land, Moses’ parents hid their child for three months and at
last placed him in a basket of reeds and set him afloat on the river. Scripture
calls that desperate decision faith. It does so because at the heart of it was
not merely the instinct to save their child, but a reverent fear that regarded
God as greater than the king’s command.
This sermon places that scene alongside
the faith of the Hebrew midwives, Shiphrah and Puah. The empire commanded
death, but those fragile women feared God and defied the king’s order. Here
faith becomes clear as a theological insight: true faith is not reckless
contempt for the world, but the wisdom to know that God is higher. That wisdom
preserves life, opens the way for God’s saving work in an age, and ultimately
raises up a figure like Moses in history. The gospel always begins like this:
by making a way through small acts of obedience born from the fear of God.
The Man Who Laid Down the Name of the Palace
Before the grown Moses lay two names.
One was the name of the son of Pharaoh’s daughter; the other was the name of
one who belonged to God’s suffering people. The first offered treasure, power,
and comfort. The second promised reproach, pain, and uncertainty. Yet Moses
refused the name of the palace and chose the path of solidarity with his
people. At this point, Pastor David Jang brings up the issue of identity. Faith
is not simply a matter of what one believes, but of never forgetting to whom
one ultimately belongs.
So Moses chose to suffer with the
people of God rather than enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin. He regarded
disgrace for the sake of Christ as greater wealth than all the treasures of
Egypt. Hebrews clearly tells us why: because he was looking to the reward. We
often hesitate to speak of reward when we speak of grace, but Scripture does
not hide the fact that God rewards those who seek Him. Love and obedience,
repentance and hope, are not separated from one another. Faith enables us to
forsake visible glory and choose a more eternal promise.
The Wilderness That Looks to the Invisible One
Yet the faith of Moses was not
completed all at once. After killing an Egyptian in a moment of impulsive zeal,
he withdrew into the wilderness, and there over many years he gradually became
a man of meekness. The sermon does not read this period as an empty gap of
failure. Rather, it sees it as the time in which God strips away from a person
the habits of the world and the logic of human power still clinging within.
Faith grows deeper not through instant triumph, but through the patience that
endures while fixing its eyes on the unseen God.
The night of Passover and the moment
before the Red Sea were both climaxes of that faith. To place blood on the
doorposts and wait for judgment to pass over was not human calculation, but
obedience that trusted God’s way. With the sea before them and chariots behind
them, Moses saw God’s salvation before he saw the terror of circumstances. Then
the sea parted, and the people crossed as though on dry ground. Faith is not
walking when the road is visible; it is looking to the path God will open even
when no road can yet be seen. At precisely this point, biblical meditation asks
us today: in moments of crisis, what do we look at first?
Beyond the Falling Walls, a Better Promise
Hebrews 11 does not end with Moses
alone. Joshua did not bring down Jericho by force, but by the obedience of
faith. Rahab, hearing only reports, recognized the living God and stood on the
side of Israel. Some conquered kingdoms and shut the mouths of lions, but
others endured flogging and chains, poverty and affliction, wilderness and
caves. The world of faith that Pastor David Jang presents sounds on one side
like a song of victory, but on the other side it is also a history stained with
blood, perseverance, and tears. And yet what binds all these paths together is
faith in God and a hope that never goes out.
The sermon’s conclusion is even more
majestic. The saints of old received God’s approval, yet they did not fully
obtain the substance of the promise. But God had prepared something better for
us. That better thing is the way of forgiveness and eternal life opened in
Christ, and the promise of an unshakable kingdom. The people of the Old
Testament saw it from afar, but we have been called into its fulfillment.
Therefore, believers today are not people who merely envy the past, but people
who understand what their waiting was pointing toward. The history of faith
continues in us, and their longing moves toward fulfillment within us.
In the end, the final question this
sermon leaves behind is quiet, yet piercing: What is moving us now? Is it the
world’s approval? Is it treasure we can hold in our hands? Or is it God, unseen
yet faithful to bring all things to completion? Faith is not a special power
reserved for heroes of a distant age. Even today, it comes alive again in those
who hold fast to their identity, fear God more deeply even in the midst of
fear, and choose sincere obedience over comfortable compromise. And right
there, the grace of the gospel spreads beyond one person’s life and becomes the
hope of an age.
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