Let us therefore strive to enter that rest, so that no one may fall by the same sort of disobedience.

—Hebrews 4:11 (ESV)

There is a tension, in the sense of balance, that runs through the Bible, and of course, here in Hebrews. An instance of this in the chapters we read last is striving to enter rest (4:11). What I’ve been meditating on is the relationship between striving and resting.

I suppose it’s another way of expressing what Paul wrote in Philipians about working out our salvation (2:12).

I assume whoever wrote Hebrews was familiar with Paul and his writings. There’s a similar vibe here for sure. Basically, we already have something in Jesus (salvation, rest…) and at the same time we’re walking toward it, working it out, striving to enter. It’s not sequential or linear, but sort of an inverse cause-and-effect dynamic.

Where my mind went was to that classic question/ paradox of what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. To put it another way: what happens when a finite and limited human with a heart of stone and no real and lasting view into reality and existence, gets swept up and wrapped up by a God, that is reality itself, pursuing us with an unstoppable and everlasting love.

Suddenly, I’ve become something different and new, and simultaneously am becoming, changing, and renewing. In Jesus, God sees me in total, with his view into eternity—into our eternal relationship. And this is held in tension that while his perspective is complete, it is also, at the same time, an instance for him. And then, for me, all I have is a lifetime of collected instances. My life is only a journey of moments and steps where I can see only so far, where my view is never complete, and my becoming is perpetual.

I guess what I’m striving for is to become what I have become.

Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling...

—Philippians 2:12 (ESV)