Carrying the Backpack

Hebrews 12 has always intrigued me. It’s a hard passage to call my “favorite,” but it has impacted me significantly the past three months in particular. When I first started studying it, I used one of my favorite reference tools – the “interlinear” function at biblehub.com. I wanted to know more about the most uncomfortable word in the chapter – “discipline.” I don’t know Greek, but I love looking into meanings and uses of particular words.

The Greek words paideia (noun) and paideuó (verb) have multiple applications in the scope of the New Testament. They refer to both the training up of a child (instruction) and chastening (correction of wrongdoing). Our English word pedagogy (instruction) finds its root in this Greek word.

In English, we generally use the verb to discipline in reference to punishment. The noun discipline, though, can also refer to a process of training, developing self-control, and forming healthy habits. The Greek word seems to imply both meanings of these meanings.

It was helpful for me to re-read Hebrews 12 with the lens of training – not just a traditional lens of punishment. The Lord does correct when we’ve sinned – but there are times that He’s simply training us, raising us up as His children, and preparing us for the future. Let’s look at this passage and replace the word discipline with training.

“My son, do not regard lightly the [training] of the Lord, nor be weary when reproved by him. For the Lord [trains] the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives. It is for [training] that you have to endure. God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not [train]? If you are left without [training], in which all have participated, then you are illegitimate children and not sons. Besides this, we have had earthly fathers who [trained] us and we respected them. Shall we not much more be subject to the Father of spirits and live? For they [trained] us for a short time as it seemed best to them, but he [trains] us for our good, that we may share his holiness. For the moment all [training] seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it” (Hebrews 12:5-11, ESV).

A while ago at a small group meeting, we were talking about Hebrews 12 and one of the dads in the group brought up an example that has stuck with me. He shared about how sometimes, on the walk home from school, his son wants him to carry his backpack. That wouldn’t be hard for the dad to do – he’s stronger than his son. But the dad doesn’t carry it for him. He’s not punishing him, he’s training him. He knows that the backpack feels heavy, but his son needs to develop his endurance and strength. He also can’t let him just leave the backpack at school – it contains important books and papers that he’ll need in order to learn.

I’ve taken his example further. Imagine this: what if the son stopped every few feet and picked up a stone, brick, or cement block and added them to his backpack? Sure, they might help him muscles, but they’re also going to cause a lot more pain and backache than his books and folders did. There’s no reason for him to carry around extra weight. But that’s exactly what we do. We pick up stones and bricks along the way. Some examples of stones we tend to pick up include “shoulds” (“I really should…”), fears, self-expectations, regrets, wasted time, and dread of tasks we’re procrastinating. Stones might include perfectionism, anxiety, and people-pleasing. We load ourselves down, then we complain that what God has given us to carry is too heavy.

There are important things in the load that we are called to bear (our “books” and “notes” – the things that are vital for our learning), and sometimes they feel a little heavy for us. But that doesn’t mean we should be adding to our load by picking up things that aren’t ours to bear. Jesus says “take my yolk upon you and learn from me” (Matthew 11:29). Jesus didn’t say, “Take up the yolk of things that you feel like you should be doing but you’re not.” He didn’t say “Take up the yolk of worry and fear.”

He promised us, “My yolk is easy and my burden is light” (11:30). And at the same time the writer of Hebrews tells us, “For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant” (Hebrews 12:11). So what is it? Is it hard or easy? Is it light or painful? We tend to draw mental dichotomies for our present and future circumstances. Either they’re good or bad. But the rear-view mirror shows us how our dichotomies merge and “bittersweet” is frequently the outcome of challenging seasons. “For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (2 Corinthians 4:17).

In our day-to-day lives, we have decided to define “good” as “comfortable.” Pain is not comfortable. Loss and grieving are not comfortable. Conflict is not comfortable. Being told we’re wrong is not comfortable. Not getting our way or having to do what we don’t want to do is not comfortable. So, without realizing it, we classify all of those experiences under “not good” and try to move away from them as quickly as possible. We throw out the books and keep the rocks.

Moving away from the pain isn’t the answer. “It is for [training] that you have to endure” (12:7). When we face the discomfort of our challenging circumstances, we are changed. Rather than pulling away from the things that are uncomfortable, we must – in faith – take His yolk and learn from Him. We can lean into the pain, the difficulty, the grief, the loss – knowing that “later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it” (12:11). At the same time, we can – one by one – surrender to Him the burdens that were never ours to carry. In Hebrews 12 terms, “Let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely” (12:1).

Jesus walks us home each day, and when we don’t want to carry the load anymore, He gently reminds us: “I want to remove all the rocks you’ve picked up along the road. Give me your worries, your fears, your regrets. Give me all those things you feel like you’re not measuring up to or not doing enough in. Give me your schedule and your health and your family. I know just what you need to have in your backpack in order to learn and grow, so don’t drop your backpack on the side of the road, and don’t throw out the tools I’ve given you for your growth and learning. I’ve designed a training program just for you. In the thick of it, it’s not going to seem pleasant – it will seem painful. But at the end of the season (in My perfect timing), you’ll open your backpack and find the rich fruit of what I designed for you to carry.”