7 takeaways from this study

As we gather to reflect on Yom Kippur, I invite you to journey with me through some of the most profound questions and truths of our faith, as explained in detail in the book of Hebrews. This isn’t just a theological exercise — it’s a conversation about why we do what we do, what it means to be covered and cleansed, and how Yeshua (Jesus) as our High Priest changes everything.

Every year, as Yom Kippur—Yom HaKippurim (יוֹם הַכִּפּוּרִים, Day of Atonements)—comes around, I find myself asking: Why do we do this? It’s easy to get caught up in the rituals, the fasting, the prayers, but the prophets always call us back to the “why.” Isaiah 57 and 58, which we read today, are all about the heart behind the actions. The Lord isn’t looking for empty rituals; He’s looking for a people who are truly turning back to Him (Isaiah 58:6-7).

The Creator of heaven and earth desires to dwell with us. From the Garden of Eden to the New Jerusalem, the story of Scripture is about God’s longing to be “at one” with humanity (Genesis 3:8; Revelation 21:3). But something happened—sin created a gulf, a separation. Heaven wants to dwell with us, but we can’t dwell directly with God in our brokenness.

So what does heaven do? God begins to bridge the gap. He calls Avraham (Abraham) out of Mesopotamia, promising that through him all nations will be blessed (Genesis 12:1-3). The sanctuary, the Mishkan (מִשְׁכָּן, tabernacle), and later the Temple, become symbols of God’s desire to dwell among His people (Exodus 25:8).

But the problem remains: human priests, no matter how faithful, can’t fully bridge the gap. The Levitical priesthood, with all its sacrifices, was only ever a shadow—a copy—of something greater (Hebrews 8:5). The Torah (תּוֹרָה, instruction) points us toward the goal, but it can’t get us all the way there.

This is where the book of Hebrews comes in. Hebrews is a letter written to Jewish believers wrestling with the meaning of Yeshua’s priesthood and the ongoing significance of the Temple. The author’s message is clear: Yeshua is the ultimate High Priest, not in the line of Aharon (Aaron), but in the order of מַלְכִּי־צֶדֶק Melchizedek (king of righteousness) (Hebrews 5:6; 7:1-3).

For it was fitting for us to have such a high priest, holy, innocent, undefiled, separated from sinners and exalted above the heavens; who does not need daily, like those high priests, to offer up sacrifices, first for His own sins and then for the sins of the people, because this He did once for all when He offered up Himself.

Yeshua’s atonement is not just a covering (כִּפּוּר kippur), but a removal of sin. He bridges the gap once and for all, offering us confidence—not arrogance, but humble confidence—to approach God’s presence (Hebrews 10:19-22).

One of the most thought-provoking ideas we discussed is the meaning of τέλος telos (goal/target) in the Greek. Paul writes, “For Messiah is the end (telos) of the law for righteousness to everyone who believes” (Romans 10:4). But what if we understood “telos” not as “end” but as “target” or “goal”? The Torah isn’t abolished; it’s fulfilled—its aim is Messiah.

The Hebrew root of Torah, יָרָה yarah, means “to shoot” or “to aim.” Torah is like an arrow, and Messiah is the target. All the instructions, the sacrifices, the festivals—they point us toward Yeshua. When we focus on the target, we see the purpose behind the practice.

Hebrews 3 and 4 draw a powerful parallel between Israel’s journey to the Promised Land and our journey into God’s rest. The question isn’t just, “Is God with us?” but “Are we with God?” (Exodus 17:7; Hebrews 3:7-19). Trust (אֱמוּנָה emunah; πίστις pistis) is the key—do we trust that the One who brought us out of bondage will also bring us in?

There remains therefore a Sabbath rest for the people of God. For the one who has entered His rest has himself also rested from his works, as God did from His.

Rest isn’t just about ceasing from labor; it’s about trusting that Yeshua, our High Priest, has done what we could never do. We can approach the Holy of Holies with confidence, not because of our own merit, but because of His.

One of the longest quotations from the Tanakh in the New Testament is Jeremiah 31:31-34, the promise of a New Covenant (בְּרִית חֲדָשָׁה Brit Chadashah). Hebrews 8 and 10 remind us that the problem with the first covenant wasn’t the Torah itself, but the inability of the people and priests to fulfill it.

“For this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the Lord: I will put My laws into their minds, and I will write them on their hearts. And I will be their God, and they shall be My people.”

The New Covenant is about transformation from the inside out. God’s instructions are no longer just external commands—they become part of who we are.

Atonement isn’t just about covering sin; it’s about letting go—of shame, guilt, and the things that hold us back. Hebrews 9 and 10 speak of a “cleansed conscience” (Hebrews 9:14). The Lord’s Prayer teaches us to forgive as we have been forgiven (Matthew 6:12).

Heaven’s math is radical: “Their sins and their lawless deeds I will remember no more” (Hebrews 10:17 NASB 1995). If heaven lets it go, can we? Can we release the grudges, the shame, and trust that God’s forgiveness is real?

The earthly tabernacle and Temple were always meant to be copies—shadows—of heavenly realities (Hebrews 8:5; 9:23-24). When the Temple was destroyed, heaven’s “open sign” remained on. Yeshua’s priesthood is eternal, not dependent on earthly structures.

But when Messiah appeared as a high priest of the good things to come, He entered through the greater and more perfect tabernacle, not made with hands, that is to say, not of this creation.

Our access to God isn’t limited by geography or buildings. The true dwelling place of God is with humanity (Revelation 21:3).

Faith (emunah/pistis) isn’t just intellectual assent—it’s trust that leads to action. Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness (Genesis 15:6; Romans 4:3). James reminds us that faith without works is dead (James 2:17).

Our journey is about being transformed, day by day, as we walk in trust and obedience. The Torah gives us direction, but it’s Yeshua who empowers us to reach the goal.

The goal (telos) of the Torah is to bring us close to God. The offerings (קָרְבָּנוֹת korbanot) are about drawing near (קָרַב karav). But the ultimate offering is Yeshua Himself, who brings us all the way in.

Therefore, brethren, since we have confidence to enter the holy place by the blood of Yeshua, by a new and living way which He inaugurated for us through the veil, that is, His flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith….

The story doesn’t end with the Temple. Ezekiel’s vision of a future Temple and John’s vision of the New Jerusalem both point to the ultimate reality: God’s dwelling place is with us. In the New Jerusalem, “there is no temple in it, for the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb are its temple” (Revelation 21:22 NASB 1995).

All the copies, the shadows, the rituals, they find their fulfillment — their “Yes!” — in the presence of God among His people.

As we reflect on Yom Kippur and the message of Hebrews, let’s remember: it’s not about perfection, but about direction. The Torah aims us toward Messiah, and Yeshua, as our High Priest, brings us all the way in. We are invited to move from fear to confidence, from shame to forgiveness, from ritual to relationship.

May we walk in the assurance that God’s presence is with us, His forgiveness is real, and His promises are sure. May we be transformed, day by day, as we trust in the One who bridges the gap.

May you know the fullness of atonement in Messiah Yeshua.