Moreover we have had the fathers of our flesh as chasteners, and we reverenced [them]; shall we not much rather be in subjection to the Father of spirits, and live?
The writer moves from God's correction to plain family life. We respected the men who raised us, so how much more should we bow to the Father of spirits — and what is the "life" that follows?
The verse leans on what everyone learns in childhood. One writer shows how far the comparison runs, and where it breaks down in God's favour.
The superior dignity of the Father of our spirits over the fathers of our flesh is clear. But no clearer than the unfailing character of His training, and its worthy end. Many an earthly father wavers. Some are clearly unwise and unworthy. None are reliable in everything. Yet we respected them during the "few days" of their authority over us. We did so despite the failures that showed up now and then through weakness. They could not rise above what "seemed good to them," and they were sometimes mistaken. The Father of spirits is not like that. He alone is wise. He is good and does good, acting without error for our advantage, so that we may share His holiness.
The verse sets the "Father of spirits" against our "earthly fathers". Older translations read "fathers of our flesh". The difference is not only in rank but in what each one reaches.
Our earthly fathers dealt with the flesh. The Father of spirits deals with us in chastening to form a right spirit within us, so that we may live to Him. To get the full blessing of these dealings we must fully submit to what God allows. By bowing to God in the trial, we keep God between ourselves and the trial. If we rebel and question God's way, the trial will get between us and God. Then our souls are not sustained in life, and we fall into darkness.
Because God works at that level, His aim in our trials goes deeper than our comfort.
He is the "Father of spirits" (Hebrews 12:9). It is a comforting thought that God, in His patient chastening, would refine our spirits from the coarse impulses of the flesh. His purpose in this is "that we might be partakers of His holiness."
The short closing phrase is easy to skip. One writer treats it as the whole point of submission, and states the reverse just as plainly.
He is the Father, not of our flesh, but of our spirits. By an eternal relationship we are the children of His love. Subjection to Him is our life. We came to know we were His sons by the obedience of faith, through the grace of Him who has given us birth. In the same way, our watchful attention to His will stirs the energies of spiritual life into action. To be left alone by Him is to sink into deadly sickness of the spirit. Neglected by the Father, the child soon begins to go wrong.
Another writer describes the same result as the effect discipline is designed to produce.
Discipline is for the body, but it has spiritual prosperity in view for the individual, and as a result he lives — that is the effect of subjection to God's healthy discipline.
Correction is not a sign that God has turned away. It rests on the relationship He has put us in.
As the children of God, we share all the privileges of His house. In fact the discipline of the house is as much a privilege as anything else. God acts in discipline towards us on the ground of the relationship in which He has set us. A father disciplines his children because they are his. If I see a stranger's child doing wrong, I am not called on to correct him. I am not his father. So I know neither the affections nor the responsibilities of that relationship.
Subjection is where the response starts. It is not where it stops.
There are three different attitudes of heart towards God's chastening: subjection, acceptance and rejoicing. When the will is broken, there is subjection. When we understand the purpose of the chastening, there is calm acceptance. And when our affections are engaged with the Father's heart, there is rejoicing.
The appeal rests on grace. It is aimed at readers in danger of giving up.
Observe here the grace that is appealed to. We have seen how much the Hebrews needed warning — their tendency was to fail in the course of faith. The way to prevent this is not to hold back warning. But we must still bring the soul fully into contact with grace. This alone can give strength and courage through confidence in God.
- Relationship first. God corrects us because we are His; a father disciplines his own children, not a stranger's.
- Reach. Earthly fathers dealt with the flesh for a few days, and sometimes got it wrong. The Father of spirits works inside us, without error, to refine our spirits from the coarse impulses of the flesh.
- Response. Bow in the trial and you keep God between yourself and it; rebel, and the trial comes between you and God.
- Result. Subjection to Him is our life. To be left alone by Him is to sink into deadly sickness of spirit.
- Ripening. Subjection is the first step. Understanding brings calm acceptance, and hearts engaged with the Father's heart reach rejoicing.
For they indeed chastened for a few days, as seemed good to them; but he for profit, in order to the partaking of his holiness.
The verse sets two fathers side by side: the ones who raised us and the One who now trains us. Three things separate them: how long their authority lasts, what guides it, and what it aims at.
Our human fathers deserved respect. But there was a ceiling on what they could do. Their rule was short, and their judgment was their own.
Many an earthly father wavers. Some are plainly unwise and unworthy. None is reliable in absolutely everything. Yet we used to pay them respect during the "short time" of their authoritative training, whatever failures happened now and then through the weakness of the flesh. For they could not rise above what "seemed best to them." They could be mistaken, and sometimes they were. Not so the Father of spirits. He alone is wise. He is good and does good. He acts without error for our advantage, so that we may share His holiness.
A human father goes by what seems right to him. God's training is different, down to the smallest detail.
God Himself designed this human relationship as a picture of something much higher and spiritual. Correcting a child is absolutely essential for the child's good. Yet it depends on the father's attitude. Whatever seems suitable to him will govern how he trains the child. But God's training is perfection itself: its object is the pure profit of the child, and no detail of it can be a mistake. How good to be in such a hand! Only in this way do we learn to conform to God's own character of holiness, to honestly love what is good, and to hate evil.
Human parents are pulled by other things. God is not.
An earthly parent is often ruled by instinctive fondness instead of sound love. Even when he means well, his own inherent selfishness frustrates him and blocks his work in a thousand ways. God is not like this. He chastens us for our profit. This is His immediate and undivided object.
The verse does not say God trains us to become holy people. It says we come to share what belongs to God Himself. That turns a demand into a gift.
He delights in us, and He delights in conforming us to Himself. So grace comes in wonderfully and makes us share His nature. It is of what He is that He would have us partakers — not merely partakers of holiness, but of His holiness. He does not say, You must be holy; it does not come out in that form: He communicates the holiness — His own nature. See the contrast between grace and law. Does not God require holiness in His presence? That is true, but that is law. Grace means that He delights to give it.
The New Testament uses more than one word for holiness. Darby points out which one stands here:
We need to distinguish between the words used for holiness and sanctification in the New Testament. One word, hagiōsynē, is the thing itself, the habit. Once — in Hebrews 12:10 — it is hagiotēs, the holiness of God Himself.
God loosens our grip on the things our hearts wrap themselves around.
Like vines, our poor hearts send out tendrils in every direction. They wind themselves around this object and that. Then the Father allows trials or persecutions, or maybe sickness, to come in and snap these ties to objects other than Christ. In these chastenings of His hand He shows us Himself and His love to us. So He seeks to wean us from everything that might hinder our progress, and to draw us more fully to Himself.
Even the hardest things a believer meets can serve this purpose.
There is almost no limit to the discipline God may use to exercise His children's souls. Physical death may, in His hands, be a way of rescue from something worse. The Lord may chasten this way to save His people from the condemnation of the world (1 Cor. 11:32). But in every case His object is their profit. He will make them partakers of His holiness.
The correction itself proves the relationship.
When a father chastises his child, it is not to kill it, but to form it according to his own character. This is how God deals with us too, "that we may share His holiness" (Heb. 12:10). This is a comforting thought. God acknowledges us as His children when He chastens us. He chastens us precisely because we are His children.
- Cause — sonship. Correction is not a sign that God has turned away; He deals with us this way because we are His children.
- Method — perfect. Human fathers ruled for a short time and acted on what seemed best to them. The Father of spirits acts without error. No detail of His training is a mistake.
- Aim — undivided. Our profit is not one of His motives among several; it is His immediate and single object.
- Gift — His own holiness. He does not merely demand holiness of us; He communicates His own nature. Grace gives what law requires.
- Reach — unlimited. Trials, sickness, loss, even death may serve this end; in every case the aim stays the same — that we share His holiness.