The Throne of Grace, Not of Terror
Introduction: The Great Reversal
The book of Hebrews is written to a people on the verge of apostasy. They were considering going back. Back to the shadows, back to the types, back to the Aaronic priesthood and the blood of bulls and goats. They were tempted to trade in the reality for the ritual. And the author’s argument, hammered home again and again, is that Christ is better. He is a better messenger than the angels, a better leader than Moses, and here, a better priest than Aaron. To go back would be like leaving a wedding feast to go chew on the printed invitation.
This passage we have before us is the great hinge. Having warned them about the peril of unbelief and the danger of a hardened heart, he now turns to give them the central reason for their encouragement. He gives them the ground of their confidence. And what is it? It is the nature of our great High Priest. The central problem of all religion is this: God is holy, and we are not. God is in heaven, and we are on earth. There is a great chasm fixed between us. How can a sinful man approach a holy God without being consumed? The Old Testament answered that question with a complex system of veils, priests, and sacrifices. The priest would go into the presence of God on behalf of the people, but only once a year, only with the blood of an animal, and only with great fear and trembling. The whole system shouted, "Keep your distance!"
But here, the author of Hebrews tells us that everything has been reversed. The entire logic of access has been turned on its head. The veil has been torn. The final sacrifice has been made. And the priest is not a mere man, but the God-man Himself. Because of who our Priest is, the throne of judgment has become a throne of grace. The place of terror has become a place of refuge. And the command is no longer "Keep your distance," but rather, "Draw near with confidence." This is the great reversal of the gospel, and it is the foundation of all Christian courage and perseverance.
The Text
Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us take hold of our confession. For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things like we are, yet without sin. Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.
(Hebrews 4:14-16 LSB)
Our Anchor in the Heavens (v. 14)
The first word is "Therefore." This connects what he is about to say with the preceding warning. Because God's Word is living and active, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, and because we must all give an account to Him, we are left in a precarious position. If that were the end of the story, we would be undone. But it is not. Therefore, because of that terrifying reality, we must look to our only hope.
"Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us take hold of our confession." (Hebrews 4:14)
Notice the description of our priest. First, He is a "great" high priest. The Jewish high priest was a significant figure, but he was just a man. He was a sinner who had to offer sacrifices for his own sins before he could offer them for the people. He was a placeholder. Jesus is not just another priest in a long line; He is the great high priest. The adjective is not incidental. He is in a category all by Himself.
Second, He has "passed through the heavens." The Aaronic high priest would pass through the veil into the Holy of Holies, which was a man-made copy of the heavenly reality. But Jesus did not enter a tent in the wilderness. He passed through the heavens themselves, into the true Holy of Holies, into the very presence of the Father. His ascension was not a retreat; it was an enthronement. He is not hiding in heaven; He is reigning from heaven. He has gone before us as our representative, securing our access.
Third, His identity is specified: "Jesus the Son of God." He is Jesus, the historical man who walked among us, who had a name, who lived and died. He is fully human. But He is also the Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, fully divine. This is crucial. To be our priest, He had to be both. He had to be man to represent us and to die in our place. He had to be God for His sacrifice to have infinite value and to be able to save us to the uttermost. He is the bridge over the chasm, with one hand on God and the other on man.
Because of this threefold reality, what is the conclusion? "Let us take hold of our confession." To hold fast to our confession means to refuse to let go of what we have professed to be true about Jesus. It is a bulldog grip on the gospel. In the face of temptation, persecution, and doubt, we are not to waver. Why? Because our faith is not in our grip, but in the one we are gripping. Our confession is not a flimsy rope we throw up to heaven, hoping someone will catch it. It is an anchor chain that is fixed to our great High Priest, who is already in the presence of God.
A Priest Who Understands (v. 15)
Now, someone might object. They might say, "Yes, He is a great high priest in heaven, but He is God. He is transcendent, far removed from my struggles. What can He know of my weakness, my temptations, my daily grind?" The author anticipates this and cuts it off at the knees.
"For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things like we are, yet without sin." (Hebrews 4:15 LSB)
The double negative is emphatic: "we do not have a high priest who cannot." In other words, we most certainly have one who can. The word "sympathize" means to suffer with. It is not a detached, clinical pity. It is a shared feeling. Because the Son of God took on our flesh, He knows what it is like to be us. He knows what it is to be weary, to be hungry, to be sorrowful, to be betrayed.
He was "tempted in all things like we are." This is a staggering claim. It means that there is no category of human temptation that Christ did not face. Whether it is temptations of the flesh, temptations of pride, temptations to despair, He faced them all. He faced them in the wilderness with Satan, He faced them in the garden of Gethsemane, and He faced them throughout His entire life. He knows the pull, the pressure, the allure of sin.
But there is a crucial qualification: "yet without sin." This is what makes Him a perfect priest. If He had sinned, He would have needed a priest for Himself. But He did not. He felt the full force of temptation and never once buckled. In fact, because He never gave in, He experienced the force of temptation to a degree that we never will. A man who yields to temptation after five minutes knows something of its power. But the man who resists it for an hour, for a day, for a lifetime, knows its full and unrelenting force. Christ took the worst the devil could throw at Him and threw it right back, sinlessly.
This means His sympathy is not the sympathy of a fellow sinner who says, "Oh well, we all make mistakes." It is the sympathy of a victorious champion who says, "I know how hard the fight is, and I am here to give you the strength to win it." He is not a commiserating failure; He is a compassionate conqueror.
The Confident Approach (v. 16)
This brings us to the glorious conclusion, the second "Therefore." Because we have such a great and sympathetic high priest, our entire posture before God is transformed.
"Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." (Hebrews 4:16 LSB)
The command is to "draw near." This is priestly language. It is an invitation into the immediate presence of God. And we are to do it "with confidence." The Greek word here is parrhesia, which means boldness, freedom of speech, frankness. It is the opposite of cowering fear. It is the confidence a beloved child has in approaching a loving father, knowing he will be welcomed.
And where are we to draw near? "To the throne of grace." A throne is a place of sovereign power and authority. It is the control room of the universe. But for the believer in Christ, that throne of absolute power is not a place of judgment, but a throne of grace. It is the place where God dispenses His unmerited favor. The scepter is held out to us. The king is for us.
What do we find when we come? Two things: mercy and grace. We "receive mercy." Mercy is not getting the bad we deserve. We come as sinners, confessing our failures, our weaknesses, our sins. And because Christ has already paid the penalty, we find pardon instead of punishment. The throne of grace is a mercy seat.
And we "find grace to help in time of need." Grace is getting the good we do not deserve. Grace is divine assistance. It is spiritual strength. It is power to stand in the midst of temptation. It is wisdom for a difficult decision. It is comfort in sorrow. And notice when we find it: "in time of need." The original language suggests it is "well-timed" help. God's grace is never late. He knows exactly what we need and when we need it, and the throne is always open for business. He delights to give His children what they need, right when they need it.
Conclusion: No More Excuses
This passage obliterates all our excuses for prayerlessness and for despair. Do you feel distant from God? He says, "Draw near." Do you feel unworthy? He says, "Come with confidence." Do you think God is angry with you? His throne is a throne of grace. Do you think He doesn't understand your struggle? Your priest has been tempted in every way you have. Do you feel you have failed too many times? There is mercy to be received. Do you feel too weak to go on? There is grace to help.
The entire Christian life is lived between these two "Therefore's." Because we have a great High Priest, we hold fast. And because we have a great High Priest, we draw near. The Christian life is not a tightrope walk of grim determination. It is a confident walk into the throne room of the universe, knowing that our elder brother, Jesus the Son of God, has opened the way, paid the price, and is waiting to welcome us with sympathy, mercy, and grace.
So whatever your time of need is today, whether it is a battle with a particular sin, a heavy burden of anxiety, or a sense of spiritual dryness, the invitation stands. The throne is accessible. The Priest is sympathetic. The grace is sufficient. Therefore, let us draw near.