Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.
Hebrews 11:1 (NIV)
Unseen.
That’s the word that leapt off the page again and again this morning as I meditated on the well-known chapter. It’s known as faith’s Hall of Fame.
The author starts by saying that faith is assurance of what we do not see. The word faith in Greek (pistis) was a term from relationship and politics: loyalty, trustworthiness, fidelity. In Roman culture, it was the glue of friendships and alliances. When the author of Hebrews repeatedly pens the words “by faith,” he’s whispering: “They aligned their lives with God. They trusted His character enough to follow, to act.”
And with each example, the author points out that they are following and acting upon the “unseen.”
Creation that came into being from unseen nothingness.
Enoch, who walked so intimately with God he was no longer seen.
Noah, who built a boat in the desert in preparation for unseen storms.
Abraham, who followed God to a land promised but not yet seen.
The author is speaking at once on a grand eternal scale and a dusty, earthly one. He points out that this entire temporal life journey is leading to a City, a home, an eternal reality that we do not see. In this we are sharing the same journey with all of these well-known characters in the Great Story who have gone before us.
At the same time, it’s that assurance of the unseen that shapes the way I enter and traverse my 21,759th day walking through this world. Everyone mentioned in today’s chapter had their own mundane days to trek through. These people aren’t flawless, they’re faith-full. A drunk, a murderer, a vain self-centered jock, a liar, an adulterer. They are remembered for their trust, not their perfection. What God was looking for was faith amidst the rough edges of their very human flaws, not a polished religious finish meant to hide them. They each pressed on daily toward promises unseen.
I love that Rahab is chosen for mention. A woman, a Canaanite, and a sex worker. The author could have chosen Miriam, Deborah, or Hannah. He chooses Rahab and breaks every box of religiosity. Faith loves people with a past.
As I sat in the quiet and meditated on this, it struck me that all these ancient lovers of God are not far away. They’re not marble statues in a faith hall of fame. They’re close. A cloud of witnesses pressed up around me like warm bodies in a crowded room, whispering, “Keep going, Tom.
Don’t stop. We’ve walked this way too.”
So, in the quiet this morning, I realize that I am seduced by the unseen. God wired me for wonder. My spirit is tuned to that point-of-tension between what is and what’s still just beyond the veil. When today’s chapter speaks of the unseen — of walking toward a country you’ve never seen, of trusting a God that cannot be measured — it presses all my deepest buttons:
My longing for meaning.
My hunger to taste the divine in every bland task.
My desire to be drawn into something bigger, riskier, holier.
And so, on this Monday of a short work week leading to an annual day of gratitude, I’m lacing up my walking boots. I’m pressing on in the journey towards an earthly future and an eternal City that are both unseen. But I feel it in my spirit. It burns in my bones. It continues to seduce me to press on while an unseen cloud of witnesses whisper their encouragement.
Have a great week friends.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
