The New Covenant in Christ’s blood—with all of its sin-atoning blessings and guilt-washing benefits—is entered by faith in a moment and enjoyed by faith over a lifetime. God’s people are saved through faith and then commanded to walk by faith (Heb. 10:38), living lives as though God has told the truth about who they are in Christ, what they’ve been given by Christ, and what lays ahead for them because of Christ.

When God’s people live by faith they will not give up, shrink back, or stay down when knocked around by the world, the flesh, and the devil. Instead, they will endure with joy, thrive in hope, serve with power, and stand with conviction. This is what the author of Hebrews wants his readers to understand, apply, and experience. He wants those who are saved by faith to walk by faith, patiently waiting for what they have been promised and patiently weathering life in a fallen world.

Students do homework to avoid failing fuelled by the hope of future employment. Athletes endure training to avoid losing inspired by the goal of winning. Militaries recruit soldiers to avoid invasion motivated by the ideals of freedom. People eat well to avoid illness because they want to live healthily. We all do certain things to avoid certain things fuelled by certain things. And what we’re willing to do and the urgency with which we’re willing to do it can depend on the terribleness of what we’re trying to avoid and the potency of the fuel motivating us.

As the author of Hebrews nears the end of his letter, all pretence begins to be dropped, his urgency is unmasked, and his expectations become explicit as he tells his readers, “You must do this so that you can avoid this fuelled by this.” Christians are called to action so as to avoid tragedy while fuelled by memory.

To shrink back from Christianity (2:1–4; 3:12–13; 6:1–20) is to shrink back from Christ, the Son of God who, though greater than the angels (1:5–14), was made “for a little while lower than the angels” (2:9). He condescended himself to identify with humanity, be tortured by humanity, and die for humanity (2:10–18). And, because the Son was willing to suffer in this way, the Father designated him as a permanent high priest, one eclipsing and replacing all predecessors (5:1–11; 7:1–28). As a greater priest, he presented to God a greater sacrifice (7:27; 8:3) which inaugurated a greater covenant (8:3–13) mediated from a greater tabernacle (8:1–2; 9:11–28).

Greater, greater, greater, Jesus is greater. And as we come to chapter 10, the author reaches a theological crescendo in his presentation of how Jesus perfectly and eternally met humanity’s greatest needs: access to God, forgiveness from God, cleansing by God, and fellowship with God.

Why did Jesus have to die? Why did Christ’s blood have to be spilled? Why did our Lord have to give his life? Was there no other way to save sinners? If you have ever asked this question, you are not the first. The twelve men who were called by Jesus, followed Jesus, and learned from Jesus also struggled with the idea that his demise was unavoidable (Matt. 16:21–22). Similarly, Israel’s leaders, those who supposedly most anticipated the Messiah’s arrival, took Jesus’s death as proof that he was not he for whom they waited (Luke 23:35). Even Paul admits that the seemingly oxymoronic message of “Christ crucified”—that is a dead Deliverer—is “a stumbling block” to some and “foolishness” to others (1 Cor. 1:23).

So, did Jesus have to die? In the second half of Hebrews 9, the author addresses this question, celebrating the necessity of Christ’s death and the life-shaping difference it makes for Christ’s followers of all eras.

If I try really hard to be as good as I can possibly be, surely God will receive me into the kingdom of heaven? Jesus says it’s IMPOSSIBLE for us to enter. But with God all things are possible! He tells an amazing story to illustrate the way through the narrow gate.

All honest and uncalloused people know what it is to feel guilt for past wrongs, mistakes, and missteps. We’re familiar with the haunting questions that often accompany our transgressions: Can I make this right? Is it possible to fix what I’ve now broken? What does my error say about me? Am I beyond redemption? Will I ever feel bad enough to make up for the damage I’ve done?

While many try to buffer against feelings of guilt by avoiding, normalizing, or justifying wrongdoings, those who believe in the God of the Bible cannot because he has said that “all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God” (Rom 3:23). Christians know that we are guilty before our Creator. But what do we do with that guilt? Are God’s children to let it burden us, muting our worship and stifling our usefulness? Must our iniquities weigh us down, robbing joy and stealing freedom? How can guilty people can live with a Christ-cleansed conscience?

Hebrews 8 begins a three-chapter-long discussion on the New Covenant, that efficacious oath sworn by God the Father, ratified by God the Son, and applied by God the Spirit. It’s the cumulative covenant in which all believers are united, forgiven, and kept. It’s the covenant Christ’s church remembers when they take the bread and drink the cup, commemorating and anticipating he who is both its sacrificial lamb and its mediating priest.

Because of all that it is and all that it does, the New Covenant’s importance is not easily overstated. The more that God’s people understand its necessity, its capacity, and its practicality, the more we will enjoy the hope it gives, the peace it brings, and the freedom it offers. And this chapter provides an introduction to this beautiful and powerful new Covenant and a reminder of the old covenant it replaced.

God reminds us throughout the scriptures, both in word and through example that His thoughts are not our thoughts, and that our ways are not His ways (Isaiah‬ ‭55‬:‭8‬). Furthermore, He reminds us that His ways and purposes are accomplished, not by human might or power, but by His Spirit (Zechariah‬ ‭4‬:‭6). Paul made it clear to the believers in Corinth that God uses ordinary vessels to accomplish His eternal purposes so “that no flesh should glory in His presence” (‭‭I Corinthians‬ ‭1‬:‭29‬). As we’ll see in 1 Kings chapter 17, our extraordinary God is in the business of working in and through ordinary people to accomplish His divine purposes…for our blessing and His glory.

I don’t really understand how the engine of our family vehicle works. I’m glad someone does and I know it’d be good if I did but, for now, I just enjoy the magic and the mystery. I’m dependent upon and benefit from the reality of auto mechanics without comprehending auto mechanics.

For most Christians, the same could be said about the Melchizedekian priesthood of Christ. We’re thankful someone understands it and know it’d likely be helpful if we did too but, for now, we’re okay with being dependent upon and benefiting from those realities without fully grasping them ourselves. The author of Hebrews wants to help his readers look under the hood. Inspired by the Holy Spirit, he thinks it’s important for those who belong to Christ to examine Christ, his current role as our advocate and the priestly lineage from which he comes.

“All children, except one, grow up.” With these words J. M. Barrie begins his classic work, Peter Pan, the title character of which has endeared himself to many for his ability to fly, his wild imagination, his friendship with Tinker Bell, his adventures with the Lost Boys, and his battles with Captain Hook. But behind the carefree facade of the story lays a cautionary tale, one hinted at by the opening line. Throughout, the characters resist, mock, and fight the inevitability of adulthood, instead choosing to live in Neverland. Determined to shirk the responsibilities and expectations of maturity, they naively select perpetual juvenility.

The author of Hebrews has spotted Peter Pan in the church—believers flying around in a state of arrested development, belonging to Christ but refusing to grow-up in Christ. And, inspired by the Holy Spirit, he wants to correct that, inviting believers to experience the beauty and blessing of spiritual maturity.