We have this certain hope like a strong, unbreakable anchor holding our souls to God himself. Hebrews 6:19 (TPT)
An Unbreakable Anchor – The Promise Series – Part 2
In this analogy, our soul is like a boat, the Divine is the like the bottom of the ocean, and hope is the line connecting the two.
It feels like that sometimes: God is miles away through dark and murky waters of unknown territory and terror… we can’t see how we’re connected, but we’re certain (almost) that our anchor has caught onto some non-descript solid through the deep dark.
We (humanity) have explored less than 5% of the ocean. “Much remains to be learned from exploring the mysteries of the deep. The ocean is the lifeblood of Earth, covering more than 70 percent of the planet's surface, driving weather, regulating temperature, and ultimately supporting all living organisms. Throughout history, the ocean has been a vital source of sustenance, transport, commerce, growth, and inspiration. Yet for all of our reliance on the ocean, 95 percent of this realm remains unexplored, unseen by human eyes.” (from www.oceanservice.noaa.gov).
Perhaps our verse in Hebrew 6:19 is less platitude, and more complex.
If the ocean is the lifeblood of the earth (quick note here that we have been entrusted to take care of this mysterious place that covers 70% of our planet! the least we can do is #take3forthesea), providing us with food and water; driving our weather and temperature; supporting us even though we don’t acknowledge or see that it does, I can see how this analogy of hope anchoring our lives to God is thorough.
Of course, the writer of Hebrews didn’t have the science to know it it back then. What they wrote was more poetry than science: things that are both true in different, yet supportive, ways.
Or perhaps deeper still, the ocean represents our hope. Hope is a vital source of sustenance, transport, commerce, growth, and inspiration. This hope we have connects us to the “something else” that must be going on in the world. Some call that “something else” God, or the Divine (like I do), or ultimate source, or energy… Whatever it is, hope anchors us to something beneath the surface of how things appear to be. It connects our sometimes tranquil, often deep and terrifying waters of life, to the foundation that has been there from the very beginning.
It’s hope that sees violence and can imagine healing.
It’s hope that sees tragedy and can imagine restoration.
It’s hope that sees abuse and can imagine redemption.
It’s hope that looks at death and sees life.
It’s hope that connects the boats of our lives through the murky and wonderful and terrifying experiences of the oceans of life to the God beneath it all, sometimes hidden, sometimes caught hold of, and when the ocean meets the shore, is there in plain sight.
For all our reliance on hope, we’re not really sure how this realm works. Some abuse it, pillage the depths of the hope of others, taking advantage of their trust and subsequently polluting the water and its vitality. And hope becomes ever more mysterious, and sometimes seemingly dangerous as it reacts to our experimentation and/or abuse of it.
It’s hope that saw Abraham and Sarah – a couple who were not able to have children and were well past the age of it ever being possible – and saw descendants as numerous as the stars.
But that’s not to say that the journey between those two points wasn’t hard work.
It’s the lifeblood of the earth.