How Shall We Escape?
Although muted by the blind’s wooden slats, enough natural light filters in through my bedroom window to sustain my vision as I read and reflect upon Hebrews 2:3.
“[H]ow shall we escape if we neglect such a great salvation?”
What does that really mean?
What's so great about salvation?
To be painfully honest, I empathize with the person who asks, “What’s so great about salvation?”
From the vantage point of the here and now, salvation is a pretty abstract concept.
Understandably, then, it is hard to imagine salvation to be of greater worth than say…
Hearing a knock at the door. Hesitating. Expecting to see the sheriff and foreclosure crew hired to throw your family’s belongings onto the front lawn. Instead, you're greeted by a messenger dispatched to announce that your mortgage has been paid in full.
Returning to the hospital room. Grieving. Preparing to comfort your precious four-year-old child suffering from a painful and fatal illness. Instead, you're greeted by the doctor who announces that your child has been completely and inexplicably healed.
Now those two scenarios describe a “great salvation”!
Salvation in the life to come is all good and well, but how does it relate to the clamor of challenges I face today?
I live in this life.
When salvation becomes precious
The sky is overcast. I pause to gaze outside at the morning stillness. Birdsong and a delicate breeze reach me through the open window ... as the analogy gradually comes into focus.
Salvation is like this window. A source of light and fresh air. Vaguely appreciated. But not startling. Not precious.
Merely present. Until …
… the house catches fire and I’m trapped in my bedroom and this window is my only way of escape.
Now, suddenly, this window is everything to me.
It is life.
In reality, abstract though it may seem, my house is smoldering.
Once it bursts into flames, I will instantly recognize the magnitude of this gift I’ve been offered.
And I will stagger at the thought that I could’ve neglected such a great salvation—JESUS—and chosen a windowless room.
How can we "think the thoughts of God" if we don't know His Word?