If Christians permanently, perfectly forgiven, why don't we feel it? Hebrews 10 suggests that we still tend to lean on the old repetitive patterns of the law, including Baton Theology (Jesus saves us, and we take it from there), A Debtor's Ethic (we earn our ongoing forgiveness), and Gamifying God (we try to measure our performance rather than lean into his love). Because Jesus completed the work of redemption once for all time, none of these efforts work. Yet this very fact then becomes our greatest motivation to hate sin and love righteousness. Liberated from the burden of satisfying God's justice and indwelt by his own Spirit, we can progressively become more like him in practice.

Jesus draws a contrast between the intoxicating agony of ministry and the helpless wonder of salvation. It's not wrong to rejoice that Jesus is pleased to channel his power through us, but it is infinitely more awesome that he saves us at all. Ironically, those who rejoice in their salvation above all become more effective channels of his power. Walter preached this sermon for the opening worship service of Metro Atlanta Presbytery.

Joy is possible despite our circumstances because we know Christ and have an identity not based on our efforts but based on all that Christ has done. It is tempting to put our confidence in the value system of the world around us, but what Christ offers us is far superior than anything else we could ever possess. Our achievements or accolades cannot be the basis for our identity because ultimately God doesn't want you to impress him; he wants you to trust him.

In this passage, we meet a man in crisis: His life has come apart, and he comes to Jesus for rescue. But he is afraid: even if Jesus can help him, would Jesus even want to? This story reveals Jesus as more than simply a miraculous healer, but also a compassionate God, who knows us better than we might suspect. 

The old covenant sacrificial system viscerally illustrated the truth that “without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins” (Hebrews 9:22). Jesus perfects this principle, presenting his own blood “once for all” in the true tent, the actual presence of God. This new and better covenant doesn’t just purify our bodies, but even our consciences—assuring us that we belong with him forever. For all who believe, the Bible’s constant talk of blood and sacrifice is not an embarrassing relic of primitive ages but an ongoing cause for gratitude and wonder.

What kind of story are Christians living in? Hebrews 8 reveals a sharp contrast between the default story of human progress and the Gospel story of grace.

Ezekiel's vision of the valley of dry bones is a dramatic picture of the hope of the Gospel. Not only will all who trust in Jesus be physically resurrected, as Jesus was, but his Holy Spirit both dwells in us and fills up in us. As a result, we like Ezekiel can preach to the dry bones in our lives, and pray to the Breath to give them Life.

A meditation for Good Friday.

Everyone needs "priests" to give us authorized external confirmation that we are good enough, but all of our earthly priests will fail us, consigning us to a life of perpetual struggle. Jesus, however, is better than every priest who ever lived, even the mysterious priest-king Melchizedek, because his offering for us was final, and his prayers for us are perpetual. His once-for-all sacrifice on the cross, and his constant intercession for us at the Father's right hand, enable us to engage in the imperfect, two-steps-forward, one-step-back work of sanctification without fear.

Why should we trust the promises of God? Hebrews 6 gives us three reasons: a compelling example, a proven principle, and a satisfying metaphor. The compelling example is Abraham, patiently (and sometimes impatiently) waited for God to fulfill his promises. The proven principle is God swearing by his own self. Though oaths like this are less relied on today, they expose the personal acts of trust at the heart of all knowing. The satisfying metaphor has three parts: an anchor, the holy place behind the veil, and a forerunner—Jesus himself. Altogether, these reasons provide those who have fled for refuge with strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us.