Summary of my sermon, based on Hebrews 4:14-16. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on August 10, 2025.
Hebrews 4:14–16 is one of the richest invitations in Scripture: “Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”
The word “dare” might make us think of childish games or thrill-seeking stunts, but in the Christian life, daring takes on a holy meaning. To “dare to draw near” is not reckless—it’s courageous faith. It’s coming boldly before God because Jesus, our great High Priest, has made the way open.
In the Old Testament, the high priest was the mediator between God and Israel. Only once a year, on the Day of Atonement, could he enter the Holy of Holies to offer a sacrifice for the sins of the people. The regulations were strict: he had to be from the line of Aaron, be without physical defect, and follow detailed purity laws. Even then, before stepping into God’s presence, he had to atone for his own sins through an elaborate, bloody ritual. If he entered carelessly or unworthily, he would die in the presence of a holy God.
But Jesus is different. He is called the “great” High Priest because He did not just offer a yearly sacrifice—He offered Himself once and for all. His death, burial, and resurrection completed the work forever. As Hebrews 10:12 says, “When Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God.” There is no need for repetition; His work is finished.
Even more, Jesus is not a distant priest. He knows our struggles. He was tempted in every way, yet without sin. He knows hunger, exhaustion, loneliness, betrayal, grief, and physical pain. He faced the schemes of the devil and the sting of abandonment. When we bring our burdens—whether guilt from past mistakes, physical ailments, mental battles, or spiritual struggles—He understands. He doesn’t merely offer mercy from afar; He offers it with the compassion of one who has walked our path.
Because of this, we can pray boldly. Prayer can be hard—our minds wander, our words fail—but we are not left without help. We can use the prayers of faithful believers from the past, the written words of saints who poured out their hearts to God. Tools like “The Valley of Vision” or daily liturgies can guide us. We can also use practical reminders, like praying in concentric circles—starting with family, then our church and workplace, then the wider world.
Whatever method we use, the heart of it is this: Jesus has opened the way. We can dare to approach the throne of grace with confidence, knowing we will find mercy and help in our time of need. The One who receives us there knows exactly what we are going through—and He will never turn us away.
