The Great Invitation Text: Hebrews 10:19-25
Introduction: The Torn Curtain
The book of Hebrews is a sustained argument for the absolute supremacy and finality of Jesus Christ. The author has spent ten chapters demonstrating, with meticulous detail from the Old Testament, that Jesus is better. He is better than the angels, better than Moses, and His priesthood is better than Aaron's. His sacrifice is not a temporary, repeatable shadow, but the once-for-all, reality that casts the shadow. After this long, glorious ascent into the heights of doctrine, the author now pivots. He turns from exposition to exhortation. He moves from what Christ has done to what we must therefore do. Doctrine is never given to us as an intellectual curiosity. It is the foundation for a new way of life. Theology is for doxology, and doxology is for obedience.
And so, here we have the great hinge of the book. Because of everything that has been said, therefore, let us do three things: let us draw near, let us hold fast, and let us consider one another. This is the practical application of the gospel. The entire Old Testament sacrificial system was built around a central, terrifying fact: God is holy, and you are not. Access to Him was restricted, mediated, and fraught with peril. A thick veil in the temple separated the Holy Place from the Most Holy Place, where the presence of God dwelt. It was a massive, hand-woven curtain, a constant, visible reminder to Israel that sin had created a barrier between them and their God. Only one man, the high priest, could pass through that veil, and only once a year, and not without the blood of a sacrifice, and with fear and trembling.
But when Jesus cried out from the cross, "It is finished," the earth shook, and that veil in the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. Notice the direction. This was not a human act. God Himself ripped it apart. The way into His presence was thrown open. What was once the most exclusive place on earth became, through the blood of Jesus, the most inclusive. The author of Hebrews is now telling these beleaguered Christians, and us, what that torn curtain means. It means we have an invitation. It means we have confidence. It means we are to come in.
The Text
Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, 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, having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds, not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the day drawing near.
(Hebrews 10:19-25 LSB)
The Ground of Our Confidence (vv. 19-21)
The exhortation begins with a glorious "therefore," grounding our actions in the finished work of Christ.
"Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, 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..." (Hebrews 10:19-21)
Our access to God is not based on our performance, our feelings, or our spiritual resume. It is based on two unshakable realities. First, we have "confidence to enter... by the blood of Jesus." The word for confidence is parrhesia, which means boldness, freedom of speech, a frankness that comes from a clear conscience. Under the Old Covenant, the worshiper approached with trepidation. But we are invited to come with boldness. Why? Not because of who we are, but because of the blood. The blood of Jesus has satisfied the justice of God completely. The price has been paid in full. There is nothing left to pay. To approach God with timidity, as though He might still be angry with you, is to insult the sacrifice of His Son. It is to act as though the blood of Jesus was not quite enough.
This access is "by a new and living way." It is new, in contrast to the old, decaying way of animal sacrifices which could never perfect the conscience. And it is a living way. The old way was a way of death; animals were constantly being slaughtered. Our way is living because our High Priest, Jesus, passed through death and into resurrection. He is alive forevermore, and so the way He has opened is perpetually alive and effective. We do not come to God through a dead ritual, but through a living Person.
The author then provides a stunning clarification: this way was opened "through the veil, that is, His flesh." When Christ's body was torn on the cross, the temple veil was torn. His physical body was the ultimate barrier that had to be broken for us to gain access to God. He took our sin into His own flesh, and in that flesh, He absorbed the full wrath of God that we deserved. His broken body is our open door. We enter into the presence of God through the wounds of Christ.
The second ground for our confidence is that "we have a great priest over the house of God." Not only is the way open, but we have a permanent representative in the courtroom of heaven. Jesus is not just the sacrifice; He is the priest who offered it and who now presides over God's household, the church. He is there, at the right hand of the Father, interceding for us. He is not a stranger; He is our great high priest, sympathetic to our weaknesses, ensuring our welcome. So, the door is open, and we have a friend on the inside. What possible reason could we have for staying outside?
Let Us Draw Near (v. 22)
The first great exhortation follows from these grounds.
"let us draw near with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water." (Hebrews 10:22 LSB)
Because the way is open, we are to use it. "Let us draw near." This is the essence of the Christian life. It is not fundamentally about moral improvement or religious observance, but about communion with the living God. We are invited into a relationship. And we are to come in a particular manner. We are to come "with a sincere heart," not playing games, not hiding sin, but with honesty and integrity. We come "in full assurance of faith," not doubting our welcome, but fully convinced that what God has promised in Christ is true. This is not the same as a subjective feeling of certainty. It is an objective trust in the finished work of Christ. Our assurance is not in ourselves, but in Him.
This approach is possible because we have been cleansed. Our hearts are "sprinkled from an evil conscience." This is the language of the Old Covenant sacrifices, where blood was sprinkled to signify cleansing. But this is an internal, spiritual reality. The blood of Jesus cleanses our conscience, removing the guilt and shame of sin. The nagging voice of accusation is silenced by the blood. And our "bodies washed with pure water." This is a clear reference to Christian baptism. Baptism is the outward sign and seal of this inward cleansing. It is our public identification with the death and resurrection of Christ. We have been washed, marked as belonging to Him. Therefore, we are to come near as a clean people.
Let Us Hold Fast (v. 23)
The second exhortation is a call to perseverance.
"Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful." (Hebrews 10:23 LSB)
Having drawn near, we must now stand firm. The "confession of our hope" is the basic apostolic creed: Jesus is Lord. He died for our sins and rose again. He is coming back to judge the living and the dead and to consummate His kingdom. This is the hope that anchors our souls. The recipients of this letter were being tempted to waver, to drift back into the shadows of the old covenant. We are tempted to waver by the pressures of a hostile culture, by our own doubts, by the allure of worldly comforts. The command is to "hold fast... without wavering."
And again, the motivation is not found in ourselves. We hold fast because "He who promised is faithful." Our grip is weak, but His is not. Our faithfulness falters, but His never does. The stability of our Christian life is not dependent on the strength of our hold on Him, but on the strength of His hold on us. God made promises, and God does not lie. He promised to forgive all who come through His Son. He promised to keep them. He promised to bring them home. Our perseverance is a fruit of His preservation.
Let Us Consider One Another (vv. 24-25)
The final exhortation moves from our vertical relationship with God to our horizontal relationships with each other.
"And let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds, not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the day drawing near." (Hebrews 10:24-25 LSB)
Christianity is not a solo endeavor. The confidence we have to enter God's presence is a corporate confidence. We come in together. Therefore, we have a responsibility to one another. We are to "consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds." The word for stimulate is the word from which we get "paroxysm." It means to provoke, to stir up, to incite. This is not a passive, "live and let live" faith. We are to be actively, thoughtfully, and creatively engaged in provoking our brothers and sisters to a more robust love for God and neighbor, and to the good works that flow from that love. This requires knowing one another, paying attention, and being intentional.
This mutual provocation cannot happen if we are isolated. That is why the author immediately adds, "not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some." The corporate gathering of the saints for worship is not an optional extra for the particularly keen. It is the God-ordained context for Christian growth and perseverance. It is where we are encouraged, where we are held accountable, and where we collectively draw near to God. To neglect the assembly is to cut yourself off from the very means of grace God has provided to help you hold fast. The "habit of some" was a dangerous one then, and it is a rampant one now in our individualistic age. The Christian who says, "I love Jesus but not the church," is talking nonsense. It is like a scuba diver who says he loves oxygen but not his air tank.
Instead of forsaking, we are to be "encouraging one another." And this urgency is heightened by our eschatology: "and all the more as you see the day drawing near." The "day" is the day of Christ's return. The author assumes his readers can see the signs of its approach. For them, this was likely the impending destruction of Jerusalem in A.D. 70, which was a historical down payment and type of the final judgment. As the culture grows darker, as opposition mounts, the need for Christian fellowship becomes more, not less, acute. We are soldiers in a war, and soldiers do not fight well alone. As the final battle approaches, we must close ranks.
Conclusion: The Open Door
This passage lays out the grammar of the Christian life. Because of who Christ is and what He has done, we have a new status. We are no longer outsiders, kept at a distance by a veil of separation. We are children, invited into the very throne room of the universe with boldness. The door is wide open.
Therefore, the logic is inescapable. Let us draw near in worship. Let us hold fast in our hope. And let us consider one another in love. These are not three separate duties, but three facets of one unified response to the grace of God. We draw near together. We hold fast together. We stir one another up together.
The temptation is always to shrink back. To let our sins and failures convince us that the door is closed to us. To let the world's hostility make us waver in our confession. To let our selfishness cause us to neglect the fellowship. But the grounds of our confidence remain unchanged. The blood of Jesus still speaks a better word. The living way is still open. And our great High Priest is still interceding. The invitation stands. Let us come.