The Unshakeable Assurance: Living in the New Covenant

 

There's something powerful about repetition. Sometimes we hear truth spoken over us again and again, yet it doesn't quite penetrate our hearts. Then one day, seemingly out of nowhere, that same truth breaks through like light piercing darkness, and we finally understand. This is why the book of Hebrews circles back repeatedly to the same profound themes—because some truths are so transformative they require multiple encounters before we truly grasp them.

From Shadow to Substance

The Old Testament law was never meant to be the final word. It was a shadow, a preview of something far greater to come. Think of it like a movie trailer that hints at the plot but can't capture the full experience of the film itself. The sacrificial system, with its endless cycle of offerings and rituals, pointed toward a reality it could never fully achieve.

Year after year, priests would offer sacrifices for the sins of the people. Year after year, the high priest would enter the Holy of Holies to make atonement for the nation. But these sacrifices had to be repeated because they were imperfect, offered by imperfect men. The blood of bulls and goats could never truly take away sins—it could only cover them temporarily.

This was the starter kit, the training wheels on the bicycle of faith. It served its purpose, but it was never designed to be permanent.

The Once-and-For-All Sacrifice

Then came Jesus.

When Christ entered the world, everything changed. He didn't come to repeat the old patterns or to add another layer to the existing system. He came to fulfill what the law could never accomplish and to establish something entirely new—a new covenant written not on tablets of stone but on human hearts.

His sacrifice was different in every way. It was offered once, not repeatedly. It was perfect, not flawed. And it accomplished what centuries of animal sacrifices could not: complete forgiveness and reconciliation with God.

When Jesus declared "It is finished" and breathed His last, the thick curtain separating the Holy of Holies from the rest of the temple tore from top to bottom. This wasn't an accident or a coincidence—it was God's dramatic announcement that the separation was over. No more barriers. No more distance. No more fear.

Bold Access to the Throne Room

Consider what this means: Before Christ, only the high priest could enter God's presence, and only once a year. The fear was so great that they would tie a rope around his ankle in case God struck him dead and they needed to pull his body out. Bells were sewn onto his garments so people outside could hear that he was still alive.

Now? We can approach God's presence as naturally as a child runs into their father's arms. We have confidence—not because we're worthy, but because Jesus made us worthy. We have access—not because we've earned it, but because the curtain has been torn.

This is the invitation extended to every believer: Draw near. Come close. Step forward into the presence of the living God without fear, without hesitation, with full assurance that you are welcomed and loved.

The Call to Persevere Together

But this incredible gift comes with a responsibility. We're called to hold fast, to stand firm, to not let anything come between us and our Father. And we're not meant to do this alone.

The enemy's strategy is simple: isolate and destroy. Like a predator separating a zebra from the herd, he wants to convince us that we don't need community, that we can be Christians on our own. But this is a deadly lie. We were created for connection, designed to function as a body with many parts working together.

When we gather, we encourage one another. We pray for each other. We're vulnerable with one another. We push each other forward when the journey gets difficult. This isn't optional—it's essential for perseverance.

The Substance of Faith

Faith is described in Hebrews as "the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." It's not wishful thinking or blind optimism. Faith is the spiritual equivalent of our physical senses. Just as we trust our eyes to show us what's real and our hands to feel what's tangible, faith allows us to perceive spiritual realities that are just as real—perhaps more real—than the physical world around us.

The patriarchs of old had powerful faith because they believed God's promises even though most never saw their fulfillment in their lifetimes. Abraham, Sarah, Moses, Noah—they all died believing in something they hadn't yet received.

But here's the remarkable truth for us: Our faith isn't based solely on future promises. We have something the patriarchs didn't have—the completed work of Christ. We're not waiting for the Messiah to come; He already came. We're not hoping for a sacrifice that will finally work; it's already been offered. Our faith rests on historical reality, on something that actually happened in time and space.

Life Assurance, Not Life Insurance

This isn't life insurance—it's life assurance. We don't have a policy that might pay out under the right conditions. We have absolute certainty that our names are written in the Lamb's book of life, that we're co-heirs with Christ, that we'll spend eternity in the presence of God.

This assurance isn't arrogance. It's not presumption. It's simply taking God at His word and believing that what He promised, He will deliver.

Yes, we'll stumble. Yes, we'll fail sometimes. But our salvation doesn't depend on our perfection—it depends on His. God knows our hearts. He knows we're for Him, even when we mess up. And because of Christ's sacrifice, our sins are forgiven—past, present, and future.

Worth the Squeeze

There's a saying: "The juice isn't worth the squeeze"—meaning sometimes the effort required isn't worth the end result. But when it comes to our salvation, to our relationship with God, to persevering in faith? The juice is absolutely, unquestionably worth the squeeze.

Every struggle, every moment of standing firm, every time we choose to draw near to God instead of walking away—it's all worth it. Because what we're receiving isn't just eternal life as disembodied spirits floating around somewhere. We're receiving eternal life as beloved children of God, as co-heirs with Christ, as full participants in His kingdom.

So let's keep on keeping on. Let's hold fast to our confession. Let's draw near to God with confidence. Let's encourage one another. And let's remember that we serve a faithful God who has already given us everything we need through Christ.

The curtain has been torn. The way is open. Come boldly to the throne of grace.