Words are fascinating things. They allow us to describe, command, even inspire. But we often make the mistake of thinking a word carries a kind of force all by itself, as if it has some magic essence. In truth, a word only has power because we give it meaning through how we use it, how we live by it. Words are symbols, yes, but they’re only the beginning of a greater story. Nowhere is this more profound than in the Christian story of God’s Word. Unlike any other word, God’s Word didn’t stay in the abstract. It took form, became flesh in the person of Jesus, transforming a promise into a real, living relationship with us. Jesus didn’t just represent God’s love—he was God’s love, reaching out to humanity. And in that transformation, salvation and grace go from concepts to realities. It’s the power of words made real, alive, and truly meaningful.
Let us pray. May only God’s Word be spoken and may only God’s Word be heard; in the name of Jesus. Amen.
We all have stressors in life—family issues, health challenges, job pressures, and spiritual struggles. Some of these we can handle. We make adjustments, figure things out, and keep going. But other times, these stressors escalate into something more—a crisis. These moments rise up and demand something from us. A decision has to be made, and the outcome can change everything.
In today’s world, we often feel overwhelmed by the crises around us. War, suffering, and division seem endless, close and far away, and it’s easy to feel despondent or helpless. Yet we’re reminded of the psalmist’s declaration, which announces almost defiantly: “Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised; his greatness is unsearchable. One generation shall commend your works to another and shall declare your mighty acts.” Today’s psalm, likewise, tells us not to place our trust in figureheads or passing authorities but in a God whose works transcend generations—in fact, are eternal, without beginning and without end.
Crises force us to confront what matters most. They test us, showing us who we are and what we cling to when things fall apart. Some moments feel so heavy that they shake the very foundation of our faith. This is where many of us find ourselves—facing a crisis of faith. Maybe God feels distant, prayers seem to go unanswered, or doubts creep in. When that happens, we have to decide—will we press on in trust, or will we give in to fear and drift away?
In Greek, the word for “judgment” in our reading today from Hebrews is krisis. It’s more than just judgment—it’s a decisive moment, a verdict, a turning point where everything comes into the open and is set right. It’s the same word from which we get the English words “crisis” and “critical.” A crisis isn’t just a moment of chaos. It’s a moment that demands a decision. And in our relationship with God, these moments expose what we trust and believe deep down.
A crisis of faith isn’t just a time of doubt or struggle—it’s a moment when we have to make a choice. Will we trust God’s goodness, even when life feels overwhelming? Will we move forward in hope, even when we can’t see the outcome? These are the moments when faith stops being theoretical and becomes real. Life presents us with unexpected crises—moments where the stakes are high, and our response matters.
The author of Hebrews speaks of the ultimate crisis we will all face: “It is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment.” The word here is krisis. Just as we face personal crises throughout life, death and judgment represent the final, unavoidable crisis every one of us will encounter. At that moment, everything will be revealed—our trust, our hopes, our failures. But God’s judgment isn’t just about punishment. His krisis brings both justice and mercy together.
The first coming of Christ was the most critical moment in history. Jesus stepped into our brokenness, carrying the burden of our sin. Through his death, he resolved the deepest crisis we ever faced—our separation from God. As St. Paul says, “God made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” Jesus made the critical decision to take on our sin, bridging the gap between us and God once for all.
But now, we face a different kind of crisis—not the crisis of our salvation, which Christ has already accomplished, but the crisis of faith that meets us in our daily lives. Each moment is a choice. Will we respond to God’s mercy with faith, or will we pull away in fear and self-reliance? Will we live with the same grace and love that God has shown us, or will we meet others with judgment, demands, and indifference?
Every situation we encounter—whether financial trouble, a difficult relationship, or spiritual dryness—can become a crisis of faith. These moments challenge us to make a choice in the light of God’s grace. Will we believe that God is faithful even when things don’t go as planned? Will we trust his promises when life feels uncertain? Each of these decisions is critical. Each of them is a small but meaningful crisis of faith, where we decide how we will walk with God as disciples of Jesus.
Discipleship means learning to trust God not just once, but again and again, in every choice we make. Judgment isn’t something we need to fear, because Christ has already taken it upon himself. And ultimately, we are likewise faced with the crisis of faith of whether we condemn ourselves for our failures when we inevitably fall short, or if we rest assured in the mercy of God who faced the crisis of separation between us and him in Jesus.
In other words, will we decide to believe our sin is too great to overcome or will we, by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, trust that God’s mercy will not let us abandoned, but embrace us and save us from that deepest crisis every single one of us faces—fear of separation from God? In hopefulness, we do well to eagerly wait for Christ’s return, knowing that he will bring salvation, not condemnation, to those who trust him.
We, each of us, will and do face these crises, yet every crisis of faith we face becomes a chance to grow. When we feel stretched thin, when doubts creep in, or when life overwhelms us—those are the moments that shape us. Crises of faith aren’t just obstacles. They are opportunities to deepen our relationship with God, teaching us to trust him more fully and preparing us for the final day when all things will be made new.
When we look around and feel overwhelmed, it’s easy to want someone to come along and fix everything for us. Sometimes, we might even think that someone important—maybe a leader or a figure we admire—could have all the answers. It’s natural to want that, especially when things feel out of control. But remember, again, as the psalmist says, that it’s God who’s greatness is to be praised—not anyone else’s.
People come and go, and their plans don’t always last. But God’s love and care are different. His goodness is steady, like a rock that’s always there, even when the world around us seems to change so fast. And God showed us the fullest expression of his love and faithfulness in Jesus. Jesus is the one we can trust completely. His love is unwavering, and he doesn’t seek anything from us in return; instead, he gave his very life for us, facing the hardest crisis anyone could imagine with humility, courage, and selfless love. In him, we have the truest example of who we can rely on.
People who follow his example—who reflect his kindness, his gentleness, and his peace—show us glimpses of the trustworthiness and love of Jesus himself. These are the people who seek to serve, not to be served. They’re not after our praise or attention; instead, they offer a steady hand in times of trouble, just as Jesus does for us. And while we might feel drawn to those who offer quick fixes or look impressive on the outside, it’s those who reflect the heart of Jesus who truly help us. His kindness, his wisdom, and his peace are things we can count on, through them and always. And that brings a real sense of calm and hope, knowing that Jesus’ love, reflected in others, is something we can lean on, today and forever.
And so the question before us now is this: Will we turn to Christ in these moments, in these times of crisis, in each and every choice we make? Will we trust in his sacrifice and live each day as if his return is certain? Every choice we make matters. Every choice is a crisis of faith.
Each decision we make shapes who we are becoming and draws us either closer to God or further away. Christ has already done the critical work—he’s dealt with sin and opened the way for us to walk with him. Now, it’s up to us to respond. This is the moment to prepare for the coming krisis. This is the moment to walk in faith as we wait for the final resolution of all things.
How will we meet that moment when it comes? With fear, or with faith? With clenched fists, or open hands? Because the day will come. And when it does, everything hidden will be seen, and everything broken will be made whole. We will be made whole. You will be made whole. It’s the coming crisis, and we already know how it ends.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
The Rev'd Daniel W. Spigelmyer, Jr. 