A Better Human
Scott Eastveld

When you hear the word better, what comes to mind?

Maybe you think of sports betting ads promising better odds.
Or that feeling when the flu finally breaks and you start to feel better.
Maybe it’s self-improvement—bettering yourself through education or discipline.

Or maybe, like me, your mind goes to a 90’s one-hit wonder: Better Than Ezra.
No one really knows where the name came from. One story says it’s a Hemingway reference. Another claims they needed a band name for a battle of the bands and simply chose “Better Than Ezra” because Ezra was already on the list.

Language is strange like that. One word can carry a dozen meanings.
And better is a word we’re going to hear again and again in the book of Hebrews.

Jesus is a Better Word.
A Better Priest.
A Better Moses.
A Better Sacrifice.

Because Jesus shows us a Better Way.

And in Hebrews 2, we discover something deeply personal:
Jesus is the Better Human.

Our Obsession With Better

We live in an age obsessed with improvement.
Better habits. Better tech. Better bodies. Better versions of ourselves—especially in January. Gyms know this. Publishers know this. About 15,000 self-help books are released every year in the U.S. alone.

And yet, for all our progress, there’s a quiet ache beneath it all.
Something about being human feels…broken.

We feel it in our bodies that fail us.
Our relationships that fracture.
Our inability to live up to who we were meant to be.

Hebrews speaks directly into that ache.

What Does It Mean to Be Human?

Hebrews 2:5–18 isn’t mainly about angels. It’s about humanity.

Quoting Psalm 8, the author reminds us that humans were created with dignity—crowned with glory and honor, entrusted to steward God’s world. We were meant to reflect His goodness.

But then comes the honest confession:

“Yet at present we do not see everything subject to them.”

We know we were made for more—but the world doesn’t look the way it’s supposed to.

And then comes the turning point:

“But we do see Jesus.”

Jesus, the Pioneer of Humanity

Jesus was “made lower than the angels for a little while.”
Not because He stopped being God—but because He chose to become fully human.

He doesn’t rescue humanity from a distance.
He enters our condition completely—suffering, temptation, even death.

Hebrews calls Him the pioneer of our salvation—the One who goes first and makes a way by walking it Himself. He becomes fully human not by avoiding suffering, but by trusting God through it.

Where we failed to reflect God’s image, Jesus restores it.

Not Ashamed to Call Us Family

Here’s the most tender moment in the passage:

“Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters.”

Let that settle.

The exalted, victorious Christ stands beside us—not above us—and claims us as family. In a culture built on honor and shame, this was revolutionary.

Jesus doesn’t save us despite our humanity.
He saves us by entering it.

Fully God.
Fully human.
Without confusion or compromise.

Suffering Doesn’t Disqualify Us

Hebrews tells us something we desperately need to hear:

Suffering did not disqualify Jesus—it completed His vocation.

Weakness does not mean you’ve stepped outside God’s will. Faithfulness—not ease—is the measure of success.

Jesus shared our flesh and blood to break the power of death and free us from its fear. Death still exists—but it no longer gets the final word.

The Best of Us

We do not yet see everything restored.
But we do see Jesus.

And in Him, we see what humanity was always meant to be.

Not erased.
Not bypassed.
Redeemed.

Jesus is the Better Human.

In fact—
He is the best of us.