Hope as an Anchor of the Soul¹

John Owen

Hebrews 6:19-20. Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which entereth into that within the veil; whither the Forerunner is for us entered, even Jesus, made an high priest for ever after the order of Melchisedec.

Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast. This hope is that grace on which our assurance, or that full persuasion of faith which gives one confidence, depends. This hope is a firm trust in God for the enjoyment of those good things contained in the promise, at the appointed season, raising in the soul an earnest desire after them, and an expectation of them. This hope springs from faith; its very nature and essence consists in trust in God.

¹Here are the exposition and observations on Hebrews 6:19-20, taken with editing from “An Abridgement”, by M J Tryon, of Owen’s Exposition of the Epistle to the Hebrews. Note that Owen uses the words “us” and “our” to indicate the Lord’s people and what belongs to them. The exposition and observations on the previous two verses appeared last month.

This hope is compared to an “anchor”. Anchors are of use in storms and tempests; also when the ship is in harbour, anchors keep it steady in some particular position. Our souls are exposed to storms, including stress from spiritual dangers, persecutions, afflictions, temptations, fears, sins, death. These dangers sometimes come with violence, and in their own nature they tend to our ruin and destruction. The Apostle gives us a description of these storms, with the use of this “anchor” in them, and its success in the safety of the souls of believers (Rom 8:33-38).

The ordinary occasions of this life, and our duties towards God and man in them, are like the trading of ships in their harbour, and there a good and sure anchor is necessary; the neglect of using one has proved ruinous to many. This anchor, hope, is “sure”; it will not fail; it may be safely trusted in. And it is “steadfast”; no violence of winds or storms can either break it or move it from its hold. Hope proceeding from, and built on faith, is infallible, and will not deceive. It is firm and invincible against all opposition – not indeed from itself, but from the ground which it fixes on, namely Christ in the promise, as the next words declare.

And which entereth into that within the veil. Notice: an anchor is cast downwards, and fixes itself in the bottom of the sea; but hope ascends upwards and fixes itself in heaven, or in what is there. “Within the veil”, is within and above the visible heavens, in the place of God’s glorious residence, the holy tabernacle not made with hands, where the Lord Christ continues to administer for His Church, and hope enters into this”. The heavens are as a veil to the sense and reason of men; there their sight and thoughts are bounded. They can neither discern nor judge of anything that is above or within the veil.

But faith, with hope, pierces through the veil; no created thing can keep them at a distance from God Himself. That which hope fixes on is the Father as the Author, the Lord Christ as the Purchaser, and the covenant as what conveys all grace. All of these things were typically represented by the things which of old were within the veil.

Observations. 1. All true believers are exposed to storms and tempests; this makes anchors so necessary for them.

1. These storms would prove ruinous to the souls of believers, were they not with certainty interested by faith and hope in the promise of the gospel.

2. No distance of place, no interposition of difficulties, can hinder the hope of believers from entering into the presence of, and fixing itself on, God in Christ.

3. The strength and assurance of the faith and hope of a believer is invisible to the world.

4. Hope, firmly fixed on God in Christ by the promise, will hold steady, and preserve the soul in all the storms and trials that may befall it.

5. It is our wisdom at all times, but especially in times of trial, to be sure that our anchor has a good holdfast in heaven.

Whither the Forerunner is for us entered, even Jesus, made an High Priest for ever after the order of Melchisedec. The Apostle aims to give new assurance unto the efficacy and prevalence of hope fixed on the promise, as it enters within the veil; namely, because Christ, our High Priest, is there. He calls Him here by His name “Jesus” – that is, Saviour. He had this name given Him by God Himself, with respect to the work which He was to do. And He is Jesus still, “able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by Him”. This “same Jesus” is our Saviour in every state and condition – the same on the cross and the same at the right hand of the Majesty on high.

The Apostle describes Him here as a Forerunner for us. Great mysterious truths of Scripture may often be comprised in one word; in this place alone is this title given to the Lord Jesus and this also may be said of the name “Surety”, which the Apostle makes use of in the next chapter (v 22). He is called “the Forerunner”, because of the greatness of the matter He had in hand, not manageable by any other. When He entered heaven, He did it not merely for Himself, but to go before, to lead and conduct the whole Church unto the same glory. He is a Forerunner “for us” – for all believers in all ages, times and places.

As a Forerunner He “entered within the veil” – that is, into heaven itself, into the presence of God. In connection with this it should be remembered what He has already done for us: He has completely finished the work He had to do on the earth, and God gave His blessed approbation of all that He had done. We also should remember what He has yet to do for us. He entered as a Priest into heaven, where He continues as our Forerunner in the exercise of that office, as the Apostle declares, “made an High Priest for ever after the order of Melchisedec”, which we must speak of in the next chapter.

Observations. 1. The Lord Jesus, after He thus entered heaven as our Forerunner, gives us manifold security of His people’s entrance there in the appointed time. He passed through all the storms and trials, temptations, persecutions and death itself, that we are exposed to, and yet is landed safe in eternal glory. His anchor was trust and hope in all His storms, and it was tried to the utmost, yet it preserved Him in them all. He is now where our hope is fixed, within the veil, where He takes care of it and will preserve it to the end.

1. If Christ has entered as our Forerunner, it is our duty to follow Him

with all the speed we can. It is required of us that we be willing to follow Him in the way He went, as well as to the place He went. He went in the way of obedience (Heb 5:8,9). He walked the path of suffering (Heb 12:2). Holiness and the cross are the two essential parts of the way whereby our Forerunner entered into glory. Let us take heed that we do not burden ourselves with anything that will retard us.

1. What will He not do for us, who in the height of His glory is not ashamed to be esteemed our Forerunner? What love, what grace, what mercy may we not expect from Him?

2. When our hope and trust enter within the veil, it is Christ as our Forerunner that is, in a special manner, to be fastened on.

David Brainerd¹

8. His Interpreter’s Conversion

Back in the Forks of Delaware, Brainerd preached twice to the Indians on the Lord’s day, 14 July 1745. He commented, “I have reason to think [they were] in some measure convinced by the divine Spirit of their sin and misery; so that they wept much the whole time of divine service”². Afterwards he preached to some white people who were present.

The following Sabbath, Brainerd baptized both his interpreter and the interpreter’s wife – the first Indians to whom he administered this sacrament. The missionary recorded their experiences at some length in his Journal: “They are both persons of some experimental knowledge in religion; have both been awakened to a solemn concern for their souls; have to appearance been brought to a sense of their misery and undoneness in themselves; have both appeared to be comforted with divine consolations; and it is apparent both have passed a great, and I cannot but hope, a saving change.

“It may perhaps be satisfactory and agreeable that I should give some brief relation of the man’s exercise and experience since he has been with me, especially seeing he is employed as my interpreter to others. When I first employed him in this business in the beginning of summer 1744, he was well

¹A further part of a longer version of a paper given at last year’s Theological Conference. Last month’s instalment saw Brainerd continuing his missionary work, which was then centred on the Indians at the Forks of Delaware. The end of that instalment told of his first visit to Crossweeksung, in New Jersey, which was to be the scene of the greatest blessing on his missionary work that he saw anywhere.

²Jonathan Edwards, editor, The Diary and Journal of David Brainerd, Banner of Truth Trust, 2023 edition, p 267. Page references in brackets, in the body of the text, are to this edition of the Diary and Journal.

fitted for his work in regard of his acquaintance with the Indian and English language, as well as with the manners of both nations; and in regard of his desire that the Indians should conform to the customs and manners of the English, and especially to their manner of living. But he seemed to have little or no impression of religion upon his mind, and in that respect was very unfit for his work, being incapable of understanding and communicating to others many things of importance; so that I laboured under great disadvantages in addressing the Indians, for want of his having an experimental, as well as more doctrinal, acquaintance with divine truths. And, at times, my spirits sunk and were much discouraged under this difficulty, especially when I observed that divine truths made little or no impressions upon his mind for many weeks together.

“He indeed behaved soberly after I employed him (although before he had been a hard drinker) and seemed honestly engaged, as far as he was capable, in the performance of his work; and especially he appeared desirous that the Indians should renounce their heathenish notions and practices, and conform to the customs of the Christian world. But he seemed to have no concern about his own soul, till he had been with me a considerable time.

“Near the latter end of July 1744, I preached to an assembly of white people, with more freedom and fervency than I could possibly address the Indians with, without their having first attained a greater measure of doctrinal knowledge. At this time he was present, and was somewhat awakened to a concern for his soul; so that the next day he discoursed freely with me about his spiritual concerns, and gave me an opportunity to use further endeavours to fasten the impressions of his perishing state upon his mind: and I could plainly perceive, for some time after this, that he addressed the Indians with more concern and fervency than he had formerly done.

“But these impressions seemed quickly to decline, and he remained in a great measure careless and secure, until some time late in the fall of the year following, at which time he fell into a weak and languishing state of body, and continued much disordered for several weeks together. At this season, divine truth took hold of him and made deep impressions upon his mind. He was brought under great concern for his soul, and his exercise was not now transient and unsteady, but constant and abiding, so that his mind was burdened from day to day; and it was now his great inquiry, What he should do to be saved? His spiritual trouble prevailed, till at length his sleep, in a measure, departed from him, and he had little rest day or night, but walked about under a great pressure of mind (for he was still able to walk) and appeared like another man to his neighbours, who could not but observe his behaviour with wonder.

“After he had been some time under this exercise, while he was striving to obtain mercy, he says, there seemed to be an impassable mountain before him. He was pressing towards heaven, as he thought, but ‘his way was hedged up with thorns, that he could not stir an inch further’. He looked this way and that way, but could find no way at all. He thought, if he could but make his way through these thorns and briars and climb up the first steep pitch of the mountain, that then there might be hope for him; but no way or means could he find to accomplish this. Here he laboured for a time, but all in vain; he saw it was impossible, he says, for him ever to help himself through this insupportable difficulty. He felt it signified nothing, it signified just nothing at all for him to strive and struggle any more. And here, he says, he gave over striving, and felt that it was a gone case with him, as to his own power, and that all his attempts were, and for ever would be, vain and fruitless. And yet [he] was more calm and composed under this view of things than he had been while striving to help himself.

“While he was giving me this account of his exercise, I was not without fears that what he related was but the working of his own imagination, and not the effect of any divine illumination of mind. But before I had time to [make known] my fears, he added that at this time he felt himself in a miserable and perishing condition; that he saw plainly what he had been doing all his days, and that he had never done one good thing, as he expressed it. He knew, he said, he was not guilty of some wicked actions that he knew some others [were] guilty of. He had not been used to steal, quarrel and murder, the latter of which vices are common among the Indians.

“He likewise knew that he had done many things that were right; he had been kind to his neighbours etc. But still his cry was that he had never done one good thing. ‘I knew’, said he, ‘that I had not been so bad as some others in some things, and that I had done many things which folks call good; but all this did me no good now; I saw that all was bad, and that I never had done one good thing’ – meaning that he had never done anything from a right principle and with a right view, though he had done many things that were materially good and right. ‘And now I thought’, said he, ‘that I must sink down to hell, that there was no hope for me, because I never could do anything that was good; and if God let me alone never so long, and I should try never so much, still I should do nothing but what is bad . . .’

“This further account of his exercise satisfied me that it was not the mere working of his imagination, since he appeared so evidently to die to himself, and to be divorced from a dependence upon his own righteousness and good deeds, which mankind in a fallen state are so much attached to and incline to hope for salvation upon.

“There was one thing more in his view of things at this time that was very remarkable. He not only saw, he says, what a miserable state he himself was in, but he likewise saw the world around him, in general, were in the same perishing circumstances, notwithstanding the profession many of them made of Christianity, and the hope they entertained of obtaining everlasting happiness. And this he saw clearly, as if he now awaked out of sleep, or had a cloud taken from before his eyes. He saw that the life he had lived was the way to eternal death, that he was now on the brink of endless misery: and when he looked round, he saw multitudes of others who had lived the same life with himself, persons who had no more goodness than he, and yet dreamed that they were safe enough, as he had formerly done. He was fully persuaded, by their conversation and behaviour, that they had never felt their sin and misery as he now felt his.

“After he had been for some time in this condition, sensible of the impossibility of his helping himself by any thing he could do, or of being delivered by any created arm, so that he had given up all for lost as to his own attempts, and was become more calm and composed; then, he says, it was borne in upon his mind as if it had been audibly spoken to him: ‘There is hope, there is hope’. Whereupon, his soul seemed to rest and be in some measure satisfied, though he had no considerable joy.

“He cannot here remember distinctly any views he had of Christ, or give any clear account of his soul’s acceptance of Him, which makes his experience appear the more doubtful, and renders it less satisfactory to himself and others than it might be, if he could remember distinctly the apprehensions and actings of his mind at this season. But these exercises of soul were attended and followed with a very great change in the man, so that it might justly be said, he was become another man, if not a new man. His conversation and deportment were much altered, and even the careless world could not but admire what had befallen him to make so great a change in his temper, discourse and behaviour. And especially there was a surprising alteration in his public performances. He now addressed the Indians with admirable fervency, and scarce knew when to leave off. And sometimes when I had concluded my discourse and was returning homeward, he would tarry behind to repeat and [emphasise] what had been spoken.

“His change is abiding and his life, so far as I know, unblemished to this day, though it is now more than six months since he experienced his change; in which space of time he has been as much exposed to strong drink as possible in divers places where it has been moving free as water; and yet [he] has never, that I know of, [shown] any hankering desire after it. He seems to have a very considerable experience of spiritual exercise, and dis-

courses feelingly of the conflicts and consolations of a real Christian. His heart echoes to the soul-humbling doctrines of grace, and he never appears better pleased than when he hears of the absolute sovereignty of God, and the salvation of sinners in a way of mere free grace. He has likewise of late had more satisfaction respecting his own state, has been much enlivened and assisted in his work, so that he has been a great comfort to me.

“And upon a view and strict observation of his serious and savoury conversation, his Christian temper and unblemished behaviour for so considerable a time, as well as his experience I have given an account of, I think that I have reason to hope that he is ‘created in Christ Jesus unto good works’. His name is Moses Tinda Tautamy; he is about 50 years of age, and is pretty well acquainted with the pagan notions and customs of his countrymen, and so is the better able now to expose them. He has, I am persuaded, already been, and I trust will yet be, a blessing to the other Indians” (pp 267-271).

Before the end of that week, Brainerd baptized his interpreter’s children. The next Sabbath, some people told the missionary that to see the interpreter and others being baptized “made them more concerned than anything they had ever seen or heard before. There was indeed a considerable appearance of divine power amongst them when that ordinance was administered. May that divine influence spread and increase more abundantly!” (p 271).