: It Just Ain’t Gonna Happen
When we read Hebrews 6:18, it feels like a solid rock to cling to in the midst of a storm in the middle of the ocean. The imagery immediately brings to mind the trembling chaos of life, where waves of uncertainty, fear, and human failure crash around us. And yet, the verse anchors us. It speaks of two things, God’s promise and His oath, and these two things are utterly immutable. This verse is not merely words on a page; it is the hand of God stretched out, saying, “This is your refuge. Hold on.” Let’s unpack this verse fully, examining its original Greek, its connection to the Torah and the prophets, and how it shapes our confidence in Yeshua.
The verse in the Greek reads: “ἵνα διὰ δύο ἀμεταθέτων, ἐν οἷς ἀδύνατον ψεύσασθαι τὸν Θεόν, παραμυθίαν ἰσχυρὰν ἔχωμεν οἱ καταφυγόντες κρατῆσαι τῆς προκειμένης ἐλπίδος” (Hebrews 6:18). A literal rendering: “In order that by two unchangeable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie, we, who have fled for refuge, might have strong encouragement, taking hold of the hope set before us.”
The first word we notice is ametathetos (ἀμετάθετος, cannot be changed, unalterable). This is not casual language. It signifies an immovability that surpasses human understanding. In the Torah, God is described as One whose word stands firm forever: “Forever, O Lord, Your word is settled in the heavens” (Psalm 119:89). The same unchangeable nature flows from the God who spoke the world into existence (Genesis 1:3) to the promises given to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. God’s promises are not like the shifting winds of human councils; they are anchored in His very essence.
Why this matters cannot be overstated. We are not dealing with vague intentions or conditional statements. This is God’s Word and His oath, His diathēkē (διαθήκη, covenant, binding agreement) made and sworn with Himself as the highest authority. He is not contingent upon circumstances or human cooperation.When He speaks, it is reality. The oath, or horkos (ὅρκος, sworn statement, solemn affirmation), carries divine weight. In the ancient Near East, a sworn oath invoked the highest witness possible; in God’s case, there is none higher. He swears by Himself because He alone is ultimate (Hebrews 6:13-14).
The verse continues, “it is impossible for God to lie.” The Greek word is adynaton (ἀδύνατον, impossible, cannot occur). This is not metaphor; it is ontological. Lying is not merely morally wrong for God; it is impossible because of His nature (Titus 1:2). Unlike humanity, where truth may bend, promises may fail, and words may falter, God cannot deviate from His own essence. There is no “almost” or “maybe” in His character.
This is why the two immutable things, His promise and His oath, form the foundation for our paraklēsis (παράκλησις, comfort, encouragement, calling near). This is not soft comfort like a pillow or fleeting encouragement; it is strong, stabilizing, and sustaining. It is the kind of comfort that says, “No matter what shakes around you, the ground you are standing on will not move.” This echoes the imagery of refuge cities in the Torah (Numbers 35:11-15) where someone fleeing unintentional death could find safety from vengeance. God’s promise functions as a city of refuge for the soul, a place of immovable safety amidst life’s turbulence.
Who is the comfort for? The verse specifies “those who have fled for refuge.” This is the believer who recognizes their own guilt, their own sin, and their need for salvation. We are guilty, deserving of judgment, yet Yeshua is our sanctuary, our safe city. The Greek verb for fleeing is kataphuge (καταφυγή, taking refuge, escaping to safety), and it is intentional, active, urgent. We run, not idly, not passively. This mirrors the cities of refuge in the Torah, where one fleeing for protection had to enter the city to be safe, no delay allowed. Our spiritual life mirrors this urgency: we must run to Yeshua for true safety (Matthew 11:28).
Once we have reached this refuge, we do not remain passive. We “lay hold of the hope set before us.” The Greek is katechō (κατέχω, to grip tightly, seize, take possession of). Hope is not something abstract or passive. It is active and assertive. We grasp it with confidence because it rests upon two immutable things: God’s promise and His oath. This hope is the hope of glory, the full realization of God’s covenant blessings in Yeshua (Romans 5:2, Colossians 1:27). It is both present and future, present in its sustaining power, future in its fulfillment.
This hope transforms us. It allows us to endure trials, overcome fear, and remain unshaken even in the fiercest storms of life. It is rooted in God’s immutable nature, in His oath, and in His faithful promise. As Isaiah declares, “The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever” (Isaiah 40:8). Our anchor is not the shifting tides of circumstance but the eternal immutability of God Himself.
In application, this means our spiritual life is not a gamble. We do not hold onto fragile human hope. We are anchored in the sure foundation of God’s covenant word. We flee to Yeshua as our city of refuge. We lay hold of the hope actively, seizing it with our hearts and minds. Trials may rage, life may shake, but we remain unshakable because the promise we cling to cannot fail. The hope we hold is certain, grounded in reality, not wishful thinking (Psalm 119:89).
When you feel weak, when the ground feels like it is shifting, remember: God’s Word is unchanging, His oath is firm, and His promise is unshakable. Take hold. Grip it tightly. Let it anchor your soul. Rest in the sure and certain hope of everything God has promised. That is your city of refuge, your immovable rock, your eternal anchor.