Sermon: The Anchor of the Soul
Text: Hebrews 6:17-20
I want you to imagine for a moment a small vessel upon the great and mighty sea. The sun is bright, the water is like glass, and the journey is pleasant. But as any mariner will tell you, the sea is a fickle master. Without warning, the sky can turn to iron, the winds can begin to howl with a terrifying fury, and the placid water can rise into mountainous waves that threaten to swallow the ship whole. In such a moment of tempest and terror, what is the sailor's only hope? It is not the strength of the mast, nor the skill of the helmsman alone. It is the anchor. An anchor that can be cast down into the deep, to find purchase on something solid, something unseen, something that will hold the vessel fast against the rage of the storm.
We, you and I, are that vessel upon the sea of life. And there are storms. Oh, are there not storms? The winds of anxiety blow hard against us. The waves of grief and loss crash over our decks. The currents of uncertainty and fear try to pull us out into a hopeless expanse, to be dashed upon the rocks of despair. In this tumultuous world, the human heart cries out for something solid, something unshakeable, something to hold onto.
Our text this morning from the book of Hebrews speaks directly to this deep, human need. It presents to us the glorious, divine provision for the storms of our soul: a heavenly anchor. Let us unpack these profound verses together.
I. The Unshakeable Foundation of Our Hope (vv. 17-18a)
The writer begins by taking us into the very heart of God. Look at verse 17: "Wherein God, willing more abundantly to shew unto the heirs of promise the immutability of his counsel, confirmed it by an oath." Who are the "heirs of promise"? That, beloved, is us. All who are in Jesus Christ are heirs of the promise made to Abraham, the promise of salvation and an eternal inheritance. And notice the heart of our God. He is not reluctant. He is not distant. He is "willing more abundantly." He overflows with a desire to show us, to prove to us, the "immutability of his counsel." "Immutability" is a grand word. It simply means "unchangeable." God's plan, His purpose, His promise to you does not shift with the changing tides of this world. It is fixed. It is eternal.
But our God, in His infinite grace, knew our fearful and doubting hearts. He knew we would struggle to believe. So He did something astonishing. He did more than just give His word. The scripture says He "confirmed it by an oath."
Now, when a man makes an oath, he swears by something or someone greater than himself to show his sincerity. But who is greater than God? There is none. So, as Hebrews 6:13 tells us, "when God made promise to Abraham, because he could swear by no greater, he sware by himself." Think of the weight of this! God has staked His very own character, His divine nature, on His promise to you. This leads us to verse 18: "That by two immutable things, in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong consolation..."
What are these two unchangeable things?
* His Counsel (His sovereign, eternal Promise).
* His Oath (His divine, unbreakable Swearing to that promise).
Both His promise and His oath are founded upon His very nature, and the Bible is clear: it is impossible for God to lie. He cannot. It is contrary to who He is. The result of this double guarantee is not a weak comfort, not a flimsy assurance, but a "strong consolation." It is a powerful, rugged, storm-proof comfort for our souls.
II. The Powerful Function of Our Hope (vv. 18b-19a)
Who is this strong consolation for? The verse tells us. It is for those "who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us." This is the posture of a Christian. We are not those who stand defiantly in the storm, trusting our own strength. We are those who have recognized the danger. We have seen the coming judgment for sin and the chaos of a life without God, and we have fled. We have run, not in aimless panic, but we have run for refuge. We have run to the cross of Jesus Christ. And there, we "lay hold" of the hope He offers. We grab onto it like a drowning man grabs a life-raft.
And what is this hope? Verse 19 gives us that breathtaking metaphor: "Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stedfast..."
This is the function of our hope in Christ. It is an anchor for the innermost part of our being, our soul. Notice its qualities.
First, it is sure. The Greek word is asphales, from which we get our word "asphalt." It means it will not slip. It is secure, reliable, and guaranteed. It will not fail to hold.
Second, it is stedfast. The Greek is bebaios, meaning firm, stable, and durable. The anchor itself will not break under the strain. The chain of God's promise that connects us to that anchor will not snap.
The world offers us many anchors, does it not? We try to anchor our souls to our careers, to our bank accounts, to our relationships, to our health. But friends, these are anchors made of sand. A pink slip, a market crash, a painful breakup, a doctor's report-and these anchors are ripped away, leaving us adrift. But the hope we have in Jesus Christ is an anchor forged in heaven, and it is both sure and stedfast.
III. The Unseen Location of Our Hope (vv. 19b-20)
This is the most glorious part of the passage. Where is this anchor cast? A ship's anchor is cast downward, into the mud and rock of the seabed. But our anchor, the anchor of the soul, is cast upward. Look at the text: "...and which entereth into that within the veil; Whither the forerunner is for us entered, even Jesus..."
The "veil" was the thick, heavy curtain in the Jewish Temple that separated the Holy Place from the Holy of Holies. The Holy of Holies was the symbolic dwelling place of God on earth. It was a place of such immense holiness that no ordinary person could ever enter. Only the High Priest could enter, and only once per year on the Day of Atonement, and never without the blood of a sacrifice. The veil was a constant, physical reminder of the separation between sinful man and a holy God.
But listen to the good news of the Gospel! Our anchor has gone through the veil! Our hope is not anchored in this world. It is not anchored in our feelings. It is not anchored in our circumstances. Our hope is anchored in the very throne room of the cosmos, in the immediate, unfiltered, glorious presence of Almighty God! The storm may be raging here on the surface of your life, but your soul is tethered to the unshakable reality of heaven itself.
How is this possible? How did we gain such access? Verse 20 gives us the beautiful answer. "Whither the forerunner is for us entered, even Jesus."
Jesus is our forerunner. A forerunner was a scout who ran ahead of an army or a dignitary to make sure the way was safe and to prepare for their arrival. Jesus has not gone to heaven simply for His own glory. He has gone there for us. He is the pioneer. He is the trailblazer. When He died on the cross, the veil in the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom, signifying that the way into God's presence was now thrown wide open. He has entered as our "high priest for ever after the order of Melchisedec," an eternal priest who has offered one perfect sacrifice Himself securing our place in God's presence forever. He is there right now, in the Holy of Holies of heaven, holding our anchor fast.
Conclusion
So, my beloved, what storm are you facing this week? Is it the storm of a difficult marriage? A rebellious child? Financial pressure? A frightening medical diagnosis? Is it the quiet storm of loneliness or the raging tempest of temptation?
Do not look at the waves. The waves are high. Do not listen to the wind. The wind is loud. Lift your eyes from the storm and remember your anchor.
Your hope is not a wish. It is not a "maybe." Your hope is a person, and His name is Jesus. It is founded on the two immutable things of God's promise and His oath. It functions as an anchor for your soul, both sure and stedfast. And its location is not in the shifting sands of this earth, but it is fixed and secure within the veil, in the very presence of God, held fast by our forerunner and Great High Priest, Jesus Christ.
Therefore, take heart. Be of good cheer. You may feel the rocking of the boat, but you will not be lost. You will not be overcome. You will not be shipwrecked. Why?
Because the anchor holds.
