Printer Friendly VersionMy wife and I have an only child. Her name is Nickie. When we
learned that we’d be having a child, we discussed at great length what
we would name the baby. I even went to a store and bought a paperback book
that was full of unacceptable names. My wife got the bright idea of combining
our two names - my name is Norman, her name is Vickie. So she suggested we
take Norman and Vickie and have Nickie. The other combination options would
have been Vorman or Norkie! To this very day our daughter, Nickie, appreciates
the option we selected.
When Nickie was an infant, Vickie discovered that our baby had
a fever. She phoned the hospital, and the nurse on duty at the emergency room
suggested that we try cool baths and liquid baby aspirin. Well, we did so
all day long and it didn’t do any good. So Vickie called again, and the
nurse said that we had better bring her in so the doctor on duty could check
her out and see what was going on.
It seemed like forever until I could get the attention of the
doctor and I asked him, “Doc, what’s the deal with my baby? I’m
a big boy, just shoot straight. What’s goin’ on?”
He replied, “Okay, I’ll give it to you straight. Your
daughter is in real trouble, and we don’t know what’s going on.
But we’re going to admit her and run some tests. We’ll do the best
we can, but I can’t give you any guarantees.”
Well, I wasn’t as big a boy as I thought. It was discovered
that she needed two major corrective surgeries before she was a year old!
Those were difficult days for us. During the days of her recovery on that
pediatric unit of the hospital, we got acquainted with other parents who had
children on that ward.
I remember next to Nickie’s crib there was a little chrome
crib with a baby in it about as big as a football. I asked his mom “What’s
his problem?”
She said, “I don’t remember the sophisticated medical
term, but what it means is failure to thrive.” I was surprised when she
told me he was almost a year old! And he wasn’t born premature. He slept
a lot. He didn’t eat much. He hardly ever moved. He just lay there. And
they called it “failure to thrive.”
I was glad to hear that failure to thrive is rare in new births
in America. It doesn’t happen that often. But the bad news is that failure
to thrive is rather common spiritually. There are folks who have been “born
again” but have never grown. Like the infant in the crib next to Nickie,
they never matured.
That’s the concern on the heart of the author to the Hebrews
in Chapters 5 and 6. At chapter 5, verse 11 through Chapter 6, verse 3 the
author is saying basically three things. First: folks, this is the way it
is, you’ve got “failure to thrive” and a major case of it.
Next, the author is saying: folks, this is the way it ought to be. And, finally,
the Hebrew author says: folks, this is how you fix it. So with that overview,
let’s look more closely to this passage.
At Chapter 5, verse 11, he writes, “We have much to say
about this.” I wondered, “This what?” I’m a curious Bible
student, and I want to understand the Scripture in its wider context. And
to grasp what he’s saying here, you have to back up all the way to Chapter
4, verse 14, where he begins a discussion of Jesus Christ, our “Great
High Priest” who functions for us as a mediator between The Holy God
and sinful man. Jesus is compared to a mystical Old Testament priest named
Melchizedek. When the author writes in verse 11, “we have much to say
about this,” he refers to the High Priestly role of Jesus in the order
of Melchizedek.
The author continues: “but it is hard to explain because
you are slow to learn.” What’s he getting at? He’s saying:
folks, I have some heavy, advanced insights to give you about Jesus and his
Priestly role, but its tough to explain because you have chosen not to grow.
The terms translated “slow to learn” do not mean remedial, mentally
deficient or incapable of learning. It means you’ve opted not to grow.
He’s saying you prefer to coast rather than to climb. You’ve got
“failure to thrive.”
He pursues the issue in verse 12, “In fact, though by this
time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you the elementary
truths of God’s Word all over again.” He’s confronting his
readers with their spiritual immaturity. Commenting they had known the Lord
long enough, they had been in the church long enough, they could have had
a significant impact in others’ lives through a helpful teaching ministry;
but the bottom line was that they needed someone to teach them the very basics.
The term translated elementary truths is the same term used for the basic
functions of carpentry. It’s the same term used for the A, B, C’s
in grammar school, just the basic beginner stuff.
Rather, confrontingly, the author presses: There are some heavy
truths I want to share with you about Jesus, but it’s tough to explain
because you’ve chosen not to grow. By now you could have been teaching
others, but the net result of your own spiritual growth and development is
that you need a review course in the Primary Department Sunday School Quarterly!
Next he gives us a helpful, built-in illustration: “you
need milk, not solid food.” At verse 13: “Anyone who lives on milk,
being still an infant, is not acquainted with the teaching about righteousness.
I mentioned our daughter, Nickie, earlier. In her first few
months, her mother nursed her. Then it came time for that Similac formula.
Have you ever smelled that formula? You know, it’s worse the second time
around! I was glad when I got to do my “daddy duty” and feed the
baby her formula. I learned after a while you must “burp” the baby,
but don’t pat too hard. Nickie had an instinctive timing of unloading
that unwanted formula on the lapel of my suits and sport jackets. I wondered
if it was somehow related to “original sin”.
Then it came time for the Gerber’s program. It was fun
for me to feed the baby in her adjacent high chair in the parsonage kitchen.
I even played the “airplane game” with a spoon loaded with food.
Nickie liked strained fruit: peaches, pears, and apple sauce was great. But
when it came time for spinach, yams, or green peas, she would aggressively
spit out her mouthful and stucco my shirt and tie.
After she had some teeth, I was able to feed her from my own
plate. I’d dice up some chicken or roast beef and feed her off of my
own fork. I’d get a minimal amount of mashed potatoes and immerse it
in the brown gravy. Her food was more substantial and it was resulting in
her growth.
At verse 13 the author to the Hebrews reminds his readers that
remaining a milk-fed Christian results in spiritual immaturity and failure
to thrive. How should it be? He answers that at verse 14: “But solid
food is for the mature who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish
good from evil.” Synonymous for mature are: advanced, holy, complete
or full-grown.
Some terms in verse 14 need special highlight: “constant
use” and “trained themselves”. Consider “constant use”.
Does that sound different than hit and miss? “But solid food is for the
mature (advanced, holy, complete and full-grown), who by constant use (means
daily, deliberate, diligent disciplines)…”
Next: “have trained themselves”. We are responsible
for our own spiritual nourishment. Did you have breakfast yesterday? How about
lunch? What about dinner? Just out of curiosity I timed it, wondering “how
long does it take us to eat a meal in our culture?” It’s about 20
minutes. Well, it takes about an hour and a half if it’s your anniversary
and you’re at a fancy French restaurant. Vickie and I did that for one
year. The light was so dim you couldn’t even read the menu. But even
if they turned the lights on, you couldn’t read it. But what it meant
was yucky sauce over duck. There was a lady in a blue silk gown playing the
harp, and a waiter in a black tux who kept interrupting our conversation.
It took an hour and a half that night. It only takes ten minutes if you go
to a drive-up window and don’t mind catsup or hot sauce running down
your shirt while you try to drive and eat your burger or taco at the same
time. But, on an average, we will spend about 20 minutes, three times each
day, to nourish a body that will return to dust.
Why, then, do we spend an hour daily to feed our body, and so
often spend little time nourishing our soul?
In verse 14, his words “have trained themselves” show our responsibility
for our own spiritual nutrition. The result of this conscientious spiritual
discipline is seen in the words at the end of verse 14: “to distinguish
good from evil.”
The Holy Spirit gives us discernment for holy living. And it
is positively influenced by, and connected to, a “constant use”
and “trained themselves” kind of commitment. That’s the way
it ought to be.
So how do you fix it? Chapter 6, verse 1 has the answer: “Therefore,
let us leave the elementary teachings about Christ and go on to maturity”.
It is a deliberate, willful exit.
Nearly every week I go to the airport, to fly to the area for
my next revival. At a specific time I load my luggage in the trunk, back out
of the garage, and drive to the airport. I pull up to the curb near the entrance
by the ticket counter of the airline. Next, I check my luggage, get my seat
assignment, and wait in the line to get through security. Then I wait for
the boarding announcement, walk down the Jetway, find my seat, buckle up,
listen to the same speech, and we take off. In order for me to arrive at my
new destination, I had to leave home. It’s a deliberate, willful, specific
choice.
That’s exactly what the Hebrews author is saying how we
overcome a spiritual failure to thrive. We leave the elementary and go on
to maturity. If you want to go to the deep, you have to leave the shallow.
If you want to go to the heavy, you have to leave the lightweight. If you
want to go holy, you have to leave the carnal.
Let’s remember the author’s positive conclusion of these thoughts: “And God permitting, we will do so” (verse 3).
