Odyssey
Route to the Future
The Rev. David Collins
October 20, 2024
Hebrews 11:1, 8–16
Good morning, church! It’s so good to be here with you all today for this seventh week in our series, Odyssey. We’ve gone through the past, and the present. Today we start thinking about the future.
Megan and I just took a quick trip to Tallahassee on Friday and Saturday to see our oldest son Mac. We thought we were there just to see his new apartment all set up, but it turned out that we were really there to be present in his time of need, as FSU lost to Duke for the first time. He hoped and believed right up to the last minute. Poor guy.
The drive was nice. We’ve got a new car with CarPlay that puts our Apple Maps up on the screen, and when it finds out that there’s trouble up ahead, it dings, and says, you can save 40 minutes by taking this alternate route, sound good? And you press “yes please!” And it saves you. It’s amazing. They are still working out the kinks though. We wanted to take the back way, and it said, “that might not be safe because there’s a flood warning. Stay on 75” and then it added two hours.
The first time I ever drove a car with a GPS, we were visiting some friends in Seattle, and they had a really low end unit that couldn’t say street names. So it would just tell you when to turn. Turn Left in 200 feet. Turn Left in 100 feet. Turn left NOW! It was not a great experience.
That thing always seemed to be mad at me. And very withholding. What’s the direction after that? You don’t need to know yet. Just do what I say, when I say it, and maybe you and your little family will get where you’re going.
It seems to me that lots of us picture God more like that old cranky janky GPS than like the Maps App. We picture God as this vague, withholding voice, who knows what’s coming, but won’t tell us until its good and ready, and you better not be going too fast or you’ll miss it. The future is this big secret, and if we’re good and follow all the directions, we might get to come along.
But the future isn’t a secret. Not if you read the Bible all the way to end. We’re going to dig into that Biblical vision of the future in two weeks. But it’s not a secret. It’s right there in black and white and has always been. The future is heaven on earth…paradise…utopia. Not on a cloud, but right here.
That’s why I think God is much more like the Maps app. It’s no secret where we’re going. God has told us what the future is supposed to be, shows us that there are lots of different ways to get there, and leaves room for the route to change along the way. It’s not always perfect, but the important thing is that we go in the right direction.
The complicating factor about the future we are meant to be headed for, is that nobody has actually been there yet. We have an idea of what it looks like. We have a vision, but haven’t seen it. We only know it by faith. But still, we work toward it.
Today we’re going to look at Hebrews 11 which describes how some of the heroes of the Bible journeyed toward the future that God had promised to them. It starts out like this:
Hebrews 11:1, 8-16
1: Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.
This verse tells us that faith is two things: assurance and conviction.
First, faith is assurance. In Hebrews, this word conveys the idea of a foundation or a bedrock. It’s the solid confidence that what we hope for is real, even if we haven’t arrived yet. It’s not a guarantee that we’ll personally get there, but a deep trust that the destination is genuine and worth pursuing. When you know you have a firm foundation, you walk confidently across the floor. You don’t have to hop and hope you don’t land on the bad spot.
Faith is also conviction. This word is a little sharper, troubling even. It is often translated as “reproof” or “rebuke.” It’s like evidence presented in a courtroom, something that confronts us with truth. Conviction pushes us forward, even when it’s uncomfortable or difficult. It compels us forward even if we weren’t sure about the foundation. It’s worth the risk.
So, when it comes to the direction we feel led to go in the future, faith as assurance tells us that the place we are moving toward is real. And faith as conviction tells us we can’t not go,—we are compelled to, even if success isn’t a guarantee.
One word is notably absent from this definition. Certainty. Faith isn’t about certainty in every detail, but trust in the direction. God doesn’t expect us to have it all figured out, or be right every step of the way—God simply asks us to keep moving forward. The assurance we have is that the destination is real, even when it feels like the route is taking too long, or we’re going backward so we can go forward.
Sometimes the trip can be frustrating. We can get impatient and wonder why it’s taking so long, or why obstacles keep popping up. That’s where the second part of faith, conviction, is so important. Conviction isn’t about knowing every step ahead, but about being committed to the destination.
The writer of Hebrews lifts someone up who modeled this for us. Abraham.
8: By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to set out for a place that he was to receive as an inheritance; and he set out, not knowing where he was going.
Abraham’s journey began with a simple act: He left. He started. He stepped out in faith, even though the future was unclear.
In our lives, this is the first move too—taking that first step toward what we feel called to, even when we don’t have all the answers. Whether it's starting a new job, making a big life change, or stepping into a new role, faith calls us to act before everything is certain. What matters is the courage to begin.
That first step might not feel monumental. It might be better if it’s not. We don’t have to make grand declarations on social media first. No one else even needs to know. But it’s foundational. You move forward despite your uncertainty, trusting that God will show you the next step as you go.
And like Abraham, we know we won’t get there right away.
9: By faith he stayed for a time in the land he had been promised, as in a foreign land, living in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise.
Abraham didn’t build a house in the promised land—he lived in tents. He never got the “forever home” he probably imagined when God promised him the land.
Sometimes, God asks us to live in the waiting.Sometimes it feels like we’re just passing through.
Even though he couldn’t skip to the end, Abraham was still where he was meant to be. He was unsettled, and that can feel very unsettling, but faith is learning to trust God in the in-between places.
The hard truth is that for us, they’re all in-between places.
10: For he looked forward to the city that has foundations, whose architect and builder is God.
Abraham believed in the final far-off destination.
Far too often we lose sight of the actual destination because of our arguments about how we should get there. We end up thinking we have more in common with the people who agree with us about the next turn that we never bother to ask them where they’re actually headed. We focus more on the path than on the purpose. We align ourselves with those who share our methods but conveniently forget to find out if they share Jesus’ values, and vision.
The question we need to ask isn’t “Should we go left or right?” But what’s the goal? What is God’s vision for the world in ten years, and a hundred years, and a thousand years? Should you get in the car with people just because they agree with you about taking the next turn?
What else do you know about them? Where does it seem like they are ultimately headed? What do they really believe and why? Are they also looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose architect and builder is God. Or are they just in it for the money and influence?
Maybe most important of all, how do they want to travel? Are they so sure of every turn that they are going off road and causing destruction that will take generations to undo? Or are they willing to go lightly? Are they willing to wait if that’s what it takes so we can all get there together?
This whole metaphor breaks down like a old car around this point, because of this next verse…
11 By faith he received power of procreation, even though he was too old—and Sarah herself was barren—because he considered him faithful who had promised.
The destination isn’t some lost city we have to discover. We have to be a part of creating it.
Abraham’s journey wasn’t passive; he wasn’t just waiting on God. He knew that he and Sarah had to do it themselves. They made some mistakes along the way in trying to hurry God up, but God used those too.
Sometimes we act like we’re waiting for God to specifically invite us to do one particular thing, that feels absolutely perfectly tailor made for us to do, and since we haven’t gotten that hand written invitation, we’ll just keep doing what everyone else is doing until it comes.
So we see big problems in the world and think, “Someone really should do something about that.” And instead of thinking, “Oh wait. I’m someone.” We say, “I’m not sure that’s my calling.”
We spiritualize apathy.
But not Abraham. Even though the circumstances seemed hopeless, he and Sarah believed that God could bring life out of barrenness, through them doing what they could do.
We all have things we’ve written off as too late, or too hard, or too much. But faith invites us to believe that God can work in ways that go beyond our limits.
12 Therefore from one person, and this one as good as dead, descendants were born, ‘as many as the stars of heaven and as the innumerable grains of sand by the seashore.’
Abraham didn’t just live for himself—his faith was about future generations. What God began in him became a blessing that would ripple out to countless people. His story wasn’t just about him. He knew that the future was ultimately a world without him in it, and rather than letting that take away his motivation, it increased it.
The choices we make today can bless those who come after us, or curse them. Your faith impacts your children, your grandchildren, and even people you’ve never met. The sacrifices you make, the values you live by—all of these are part of the legacy you’ll leave behind. Abraham didn’t live to see the full extent of God’s promise, but his faith set the stage for generations.
We are so individualistic that we think if we don’t get to personally witness the happy ending, it might as well not happen at all. But look at this next verse.
13 All of these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them.
I love that verse so much. Abraham and all the others lived their entire lives working toward a future they would never see. They held onto God’s promises, even though those promises didn’t come to fruition in their lifetime. Or even their children’s or grandchildren’s lifetimes.
But they didn’t see this as a failure. They understood that their lives were part of something much bigger, and even though they didn’t receive everything, their faith was still fulfilling. They “saw and greeted” the promises from afar, knowing that their efforts were shaping a future beyond their own lives.
We often think faith is about what we get out of it in this life. But real faith, the kind that transforms the world, isn’t about what we receive. It’s about being part of something bigger, something eternal. Striving for a future that we may never fully experience in our lifetimes makes our lives more meaningful today. When we work for a better world, for future generations, for a kingdom that’s still unfolding, it gives our everyday actions weight and purpose.
In our own lives, this means that living for something greater than ourselves can be the most fulfilling way to live. We might not see the full impact of the seeds we plant today, but that doesn’t make our efforts any less important.
When we invest in the next generation, when we strive to make the world a little closer to God’s vision for it, we’re participating in something eternal. The fulfillment comes not from receiving the promise but from knowing that we played a role in moving toward it.
We’re building something we will not see finished. We will not get to sit in the finished city, but what greater purpose could there be than knowing that your life is helping to create a world where God’s promises can come to pass, even if it’s long after we’re gone?
They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth,
14 for people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. 15 If they had been thinking of the land that they had left behind, they would have had opportunity to return. 16 But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; indeed, he has prepared a city for them.
So church…do we know where we’re headed?
Are we headed toward the city God is building, a world made whole, heaven on earth?
Or are we trying to recreate a past that we don’t remember accurately? Like Abraham, are we going forward, content to live in the in-between because the promise of that city? Or do we stay where we are, and protect what we have, because maybe this is the best it will ever get?
I think we know the right answer.
But the exact route we take to get there? That part doesn’t really matter. Just like that Maps app rerouting us, there are different paths we can follow—some will be longer, some will take us through some scary backroads, but the key is to keep moving forward. We can get so caught up arguing about the best way to get there, but the important thing is that we’re all striving for the same goal: the city whose architect and builder is God.
What matters is that we keep going, that we work toward this future, even when it feels far off. Abraham never saw the promise fully realized, but he lived his life in faith, knowing that every action he took was building something bigger than himself. That’s our calling too. We might not live to see the complete fulfillment of God’s vision, but that doesn’t mean we don’t get to be a part of it.
So, let’s stop worrying so much about whether we’re on the “right” road and start focusing on what really matters: working for the world God dreams of, building that better country, and making sure that future generations can see the fruits of the seeds we plant today.
Because in the end, it’s not about how we get there. It’s about getting to work. And one day, God will welcome us into that city we’ve been working toward all along. We might not arrive in this lifetime, but we’ll know we had a hand in building it. And that is a life well-lived.
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