Jesus Christ, Our Great High Priest

“Boldly welcomed—His throne of grace is open wide, filled with light, and echoing mercy.”

Based on “Day by Day by Grace” by Bob Hoekstra
Photo credit: Unsplash (see suggestion at end)

Today’s reflection brings us face to face with one of the most intimate and empowering truths in all of Scripture—Jesus Christ as our Great High Priest. He’s not just a distant Savior who accomplished our redemption and then stepped away. No, He remains actively involved, seated in heaven at the Father’s right hand, continuing His ministry as our personal advocate and intercessor.

The writer of Hebrews points out that this priesthood is not cold or ceremonial—it’s profoundly relational. Jesus isn’t untouched by the reality of our lives. He knows weakness firsthand—not through failure, but through experience. He faced the pull of temptation in every form, yet without sin, and now offers us access to a throne of grace, not judgment.

This throne isn’t reserved for those who “have it all together.” It’s for those who know they don’t. It’s for the weak, the tempted, the tired, and the tested. And the access? Bold. Not sheepish, not apologetic—bold, because we come through Him. We approach not to beg, but to receive what has already been made available: mercy for our missteps and grace for every moment of need.

This grace isn’t for initial salvation—it’s for daily living. For the believer who knows his own emptiness apart from Christ and trusts in the sufficiency of the indwelling Savior. What a gift. What a High Priest.

Journal Entry – In the Voice of the Holy Spirit

I am your intercessor who never slumbers, your advocate who never grows weary. I have passed through the heavens and I am seated with the Father, not in resignation but in perfect triumph. You are not far from Me, for you have been seated with Me in the heavenly realms. Your place is secure because I hold it.

I understand you—not only because I see you, but because I walked the road before you. I wore your skin, felt your hunger, heard the whispers of the enemy in the wilderness, and faced every temptation you now face. Yet in every moment, I relied on the Father, never stepping outside the fullness of His will. And now, as you yield to Me, I express that same victory through you.

I do not recoil at your weaknesses; I welcome you to come boldly—yes, boldly—to the throne that drips with grace. It is not the throne of evaluation, but the throne of embrace. Here, mercy is not measured out—it flows. Grace is not delayed—it abounds in the moment you turn.

There is no shame in admitting need, for you were never meant to live from your own supply. I am your sufficiency. I am your peace in the pressure, your wisdom in the confusion, your joy in the weariness. You draw from a well that never runs dry because you draw from Me.

This grace is not abstract—it is Me, living in you. It meets you not just in the emergency but in the ordinary, moment by moment. Your confession of hope is not a fragile whisper but the roar of resurrection life within you. Hold fast to it, not because you are strong, but because I am your High Priest who cannot fail.

Scripture references: Hebrews 4:14–16; Ephesians 2:6; Romans 8:34; Galatians 2:20; John 1:16; 2 Corinthians 12:9; Colossians 3:3–4.

Prayer

Jesus, my Great High Priest, I’m filled with gratitude that You did not step back after Your resurrection, but remain seated in victory, ever advocating for me. You know me completely—not just by divine knowledge but by shared experience. You faced every pressure and never gave in, and now You live in me to express Your triumph through my surrendered life.

I don’t come today with timidity or guilt—I come boldly, because I come through You. I receive mercy that covers the past and grace that fills the present. I rest in the full provision of Your life in me, confident that everything I need has already been given. So I hold fast to my confession—not clinging to doctrine, but to You, the living One who intercedes on my behalf and abides in me forever.

Previous
Previous

Radiant Readiness

Next
Next

His Agony in Gethsemane