“All children, except one, grow up.” With these words J. M. Barrie begins his classic work, Peter Pan, the title character of which has endeared himself to many for his ability to fly, his wild imagination, his friendship with Tinker Bell, his adventures with the Lost Boys, and his battles with Captain Hook. But behind the carefree facade of the story lays a cautionary tale, one hinted at by the opening line. Throughout, the characters resist, mock, and fight the inevitability of adulthood, instead choosing to live in Neverland. Determined to shirk the responsibilities and expectations of maturity, they naively select perpetual juvenility.

The author of Hebrews has spotted Peter Pan in the church—believers flying around in a state of arrested development, belonging to Christ but refusing to grow-up in Christ. And, inspired by the Holy Spirit, he wants to correct that, inviting believers to experience the beauty and blessing of spiritual maturity.

SERMON MANUSCRIPT 

“All children, except one, grow up.” You may recognize those words as the opening sentence to J.M. Barrie’s classic work, Peter Pan. The title character has endeared himself to people all over the world for his ability to fly, his wild imagination, his friendship with Tinker Bell, his adventures with the Lost Boys, and his battles with Captain Hook.

But there’s a cautionary tale tucked in behind the carefree facade, one hinted at by the opening line and original title of the book: Peter Pan, or The Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up. Throughout the story, the characters resist, mock, and fight the inevitability of adulthood, instead choosing to live in Neverland, an island on which many residents refuse to age. Determined to shirk the responsibilities, expectations, burdens, and complications of maturity, they naively and intentionally select perpetual juvenility.

The author of Hebrews has spotted Peter Pan in the church—believers flying around in a state of arrested development, spiritual stagnation, and perpetual childishness. He looks at his readers and sees people who belong to Christ refusing to grow-up in Christ and, because of that, they’re not experiencing the beauty and blessing of spiritual maturity. And, inspired by the Holy Spirit, he wants to correct that.

LIVING IN NEVERLAND

To that end, the text first highlights the problem: there are Christians living in Neverland. There are believers choosing to reside in the self-perpetuating and self-serving ignorance of self-induced and self-celebrating spiritual immaturity. They just won’t grow up.

In the preceding context, the author wrote that Jesus was “designated by God as a high priest according to the order of Melchizedek” (5:10). If you’re unfamiliar with Melchizedek, you’re not alone. He’s as obscure as he is important. We need to know about him. And so did the original recipients. But there’s a problem: [5:11] “I want you to better understand Melchizedek so you can better understand Christ, but you’re not ready for it. It’ll be like trying to explain abstract algebra to a ten-year-old coma patient—an exercise in futility.”

Why? [5:12–13] These believers have had enough time and exposure that they should be serving one another soul-nourishing meals. Instead, they remain bottle-fed adults. It’s an unnatural and pathetic picture. They’ve never moved from consumption to contribution and so, when the author wants to encourage them with words of righteousness, he can’t because it’d be like giving steak to a newborn. 

And their inability to comprehend isn’t because they’re dumb or uneducated. Living in spiritual Neverland is an issue of the heart more than the intellect. It’s a willful defiance more than an honest ignorance. 

I’ve been there. During a season of significant rebellion in my life I attended a good church with good teaching and heard exactly none of it. During those years, it didn’t matter how simply truth was stated, how sweetly truth was offered, or how steadily truth was served, I wanted by baby bottle. My inability to grasp God’s word had nothing to do with my intelligence and everything to do with my sinfulness. 

The original recipients of this letter are like that: they have a heart issue more than a head issue. They had become “dull of hearing” (4:11). They’d grown numb to “words of righteousness” (4:13). These believers had become like medical patients with both a fatal illness and a resistance to the medication that would cure them. Their hearts were unreceptive to the very truth they desperately needed.

That’s a scary place to be for a follower of Jesus. And it gets scarier in that there’s a point of no return, a point when the heart can’t be fixed, when Neverland becomes inescapable. [6:4–6]

That the author is referring to Christians is clear. These are those who “once have been enlightened.” The author uses this same phrase in [10:32]. Suffering for your faith means you have faith to begin with.

More than that, they’d “tasted of the heavenly gift.” They didn’t nibble at it or get a Costco sample of the gift. They got the whole thing. In 2:9 it says Jesus “tasted death for everyone” (2:9). He didn’t try death and decide it wasn’t for him. Jesus was enveloped by it. So too with these readers: they had consumed everlasting life and “been made partakers of the Holy Spirit,” sharers with he who renews, indwells, seals, and through whom they “tasted the good word of God” and by which they witnessed “the powers of the age to come.”

These are not nominal Christians, seekers, posers, or wolves in sheep’s clothing. They’re regenerate believers in Jesus Christ who, in their intentional immaturity, “have fallen away.” But, from what?

Well, what’s the author been talking about? Obedience! Faithfulness! “Don’t drift from Jesus! Don’t be like the Israelites who scorned the Lord, lost blessing, and received discipline!” He’s talking about maturity. [6:1a] That invitation assumes the opposite is possible, that believers can pull a u-turn on the road to adulthood, can leave pork chops for pablum, and can fall away from their pursuit of growth.

And there’s a point (Lord knows where it is) when the heart of a believer can become so hardened—impervious to the medicine of divine truth—that they’ll never recover in this life and they’ll die in rebellion. Such determined dissent dishonours the Lord. Of course it does! Such apostasy is like to re-crucifying “the Lord of glory.” It’s someone who’s received what Jesus’s death bought them, and then, possessing it, mocks him on the cross. What a shame!

Living in Neverland may seem like a good idea: no pressures, expectations, or obligations. “I’ll just believe in Jesus, purchase my fire insurance, secure my mansion, and then live however I want. No repentance, service, or submission. No killing sin, no burden for evangelism, no commitment or contribution to an assembly, and no prioritization of worship. I don’t want the suffering, desire the hardship, or need the growth. I just want to have fun.” 

I trust you can hear it: that’s the reasoning of a child. That’s the voice of Peter Pan, or The Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up. And the author of Hebrews is warning us that this selfish immaturity is unnecessary and pathetic, insulting to the Lord and dangerous to us.

LEAVING NEVERLAND

Commission

“So,” he writes, “instead of living in Neverland, leave Neverland.” Grow up! Pursue maturity in Christ for his sake, your own sake, and the sake of those around you. It’s our commission.

And this commission takes intentionality. [5:14] If you caught any of the Olympics this summer you’ll have seen athletes who’ve spent decades being intentional with their training and nutrition. They’ve prepared constantly, scrutinizing every error and repeating every movement. They also aren’t fuelled by Kraft Dinner and Orange Soda. To improve and perform, Olympians practice hard and eat well.

It’s the same for Christians. If we want to be Olympians for our Lord, “having our senses trained to discern good and evil,” (an ability, let’s face it, many Christians do not possess today, often looking more worldly than godly), if we want that, we have to mature and maturity means practicing hard and eating well. [1 Tim 4:7b–8]

[6:1a] Then he lists a handful of the “elementary teachings” they need to “press on” from: [6:1b] Salvation is through faith, not works. We’ve been over this. Verse 2: “instruction about washings and laying on of hands” (both instrumental in Jewish worship) “and the resurrection of the dead and eternal judgment.” You know these things! It’s time to progress, to build on these foundational truths. 

Today we might say, “It’s elementary: you’re a sinner but Jesus, God’s Son, died for you, rose again, and is coming back to judge and reign.” You know these truths! Add to them. Return, review, and celebrate them, but build on them, and progress from them. Don’t be an aspiring pianist who only plays Chopsticks or a hopeful mathematician who never looks beyond long division. Look ahead. Practice godliness. Eat steak. Grow with intentionality. 

But lest we start thinking our success in this commission totally depends on us, the author quickly adds [6:3]. Our pursuit of maturity does require intentionality. But it also requires dependency. We labour and we lean, we strive and we trust. We “work out [our] salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in [us]” (Phil 2:12–13). “I will gather with the saints each week and, at the same time, I will ask him to bless the gathering.” “I will read God’s word but, before I start, I will request his conviction, cleansing, and power.” This is how we intentionally and dependently leave Neverland. It’s our commission.

Illustration

The author follows that with an illustration. [6:7–8] There are two fields, both receiving the same blessing from God. One produces a useful crop, the other a useless crop. 

Now picture two Christians, the same blessings raining down on both: things like God’s Spirit, God’s Son, God’s word, and God’s people. These are provisions for growth. One Christian uses them, matures, and becomes a conduit of blessing to others. The other ignores them, remains a child, and becomes as useless as weeds to a farmer. We want to be the first one, responding to the blessed provisions God has showered upon us for our maturation that we may bless others.

Affirmation

And the author of Hebrews is confident that his readers can do that too. He moves seamlessly from the commission to an illustration to an affirmation. He’s concerned for them, no doubt, but he’s also hopeful. [6:9] “Don’t mistake my bluntness for a lack of confidence in your salvation or potential maturation. I know you can turn this around.” 

[6:10] Christian maturity shows itself in others-focused and Christ-glorifying love, a love that these readers have shown in the past. God remembers that past faithfulness. So does the author. [6:11–12] Affirmation! “You can do it again. Resist dullness and get back on the road to maturity, a road that leads to usefulness, worship, and reward.” 

Motivation

And, knowing it’s a hard commission, the author provides motivation: God, keeps his word. [6:13–15] God swore to Abraham that he would get a son and, while the patriarch had to wait, Isaac did come. God kept his oath. Faith and patience were rewarded.

Human oaths are one thing. [6:16] God’s people were permitted to use God, “one greater than themselves,” to confirm oaths (Deut 6:13). Essentially, they’re admitting “I’m not totally trustworthy, but I’m calling on the One who is to vouch for me.” But when God makes an oath, since there’s none greater than him, he invokes himself. [6:17–20]

Because “it is impossible for God to lie,” it should be enough for him to just say something and be believed. But, because we’re sinners prone to unbelief, God swears oaths, putting his own name on the line, so that we can know for certain. 

And what, in this passage, are we being invited to know for certain? What is it that motivates these faltering believers and gives them hope? That maturity is still possible.

Our High Priest went for us “as a forerunner.” That means we’re to follow. Where he is now, we will one day be. His atoning blood, victorious resurrection, and perfect intercession are all “within the veil.” Those unshakable realities are “an anchor for the soul” dropped in God’s very presence and tethering us to a sure future with him. This is the New Covenant oath that the God who cannot lie has sworn by his own name. It is rock solid.

But we’re not there yet. We’re not mature. We’re not perfect. We’re not with the Lord and like the Lord. But the author wants us to be motivated by people like Abraham, to exercise faith and patience so as to inherit the promise of maturity. Abraham got his son. We will be with God’s Son. Look at that truth and be motivated by it! Aspire to it! The beauty and blessings of spiritual maturity are worth the responsibilities.

“Leave Neverland behind,” says the author of Hebrews. “Grow up in the faith and pursue maturity.” That’s our commission as followers of Jesus, a commission that requires intentionality and dependancy, one that makes use of the blessings we’ve received. And we can do it. It’s possible. Just keep your eyes on the God who makes and keeps promises.

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