Others were tortured and refused to be released, so that they might gain a better resurrection. Some faced jeers and flogging, while still others were chained and put in prison. They were stoned; they were sawed in two; they were put to death by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated— the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground.
These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised. God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect. (Hebrews 11:36-40)
This passage, from Hebrews 11, contains the most incredible statement one could make about another person—the world was not worthy of them! What an amazing epitaph! I cannot imagine any other commemoration being greater or more inspiring. But what made these pathetically marginalized people worthy of such a great mark of respect? None of them were pastors of mega-churches, or authors of best-selling books, or voted among the sexiest worship leaders.
They were all applauded, in the heavens, for their enduring faith in the shadow of insurmountable odds. Their profound acts of faith positioned them head and shoulders above the rest of us. They must have known about something otherworldly that propelled them beyond concern over their very lives. What sort of crazy ambition would it take for me to even consider their path? And would I contemplate such a path, if offered an alternate route? It’s sobering to think about what I would or would not do.
