Hebrews 9:15 -28
Intro
Once a year on the Day of Atonement, Yom Kippur, it would be the high priest’s privilege to go alone into the Holy of Holies to sprinkle blood on the mercy seat and catch a glimpse of the Shekinah glory of God.
In Jesus’ day, here’s what would transpire: The week before Yom Kippur, the high priest would never leave the temple ground, for every day of that week, he would rehearse what he would do on the Day of Atonement. When that day finally came, arrayed in his high priestly robes, he would sacrifice a bull on the brass altar in the courtyard as a dedicatory offering. That done, he would take off his high priestly garments and put on his linen garments—long underwear, really, covered by a tunic and sash. Then he would sacrifice another bull as a sin offering for himself. At this point, two goats would be chosen by lot and a red scarlet cord would be tied around one, signifying it was the sacrificial goat. The other goat—the scapegoat—would be carried into the wilderness. Why two goats? Because our sins are not only forgiven—they are forgotten, carried away as far as the east is from the west (Psalm 103:12).
The priest would then take the coals from the outside altar with two handfuls of incense into the Holy Place. And as he put them on the altar of incense, a cloud would fill the room. Returning to the brass altar, he would carry the blood that had drained from the bull back into the Holy Place, and this time he would go through the veil into the Holy of Holies, where he would sprinkle the blood seven times on the ground and seven times on the mercy seat. After that, he would sacrifice the sacrificial goat and take its blood back into the Holy of Holies, where he would sprinkle it again seven times on the ground and seven times on the mercy seat. Finally, after sacrificing the bull and going into the Holy of Holies, and after sacrificing the goat and going into the Holy of Holies, he would come back out and place his hand upon the living goat, saying, “Bear and be gone.” In other words, “Bear the sin and take it away.”
Then, at last, the priest would stand before the people. With both hands, he would pronounce, “Forgiven,” and the people would begin to hoop and holler and celebrate because if the priest was not purified properly, if he went into the Holy Place presumptuously, his resulting death would signify that they weren’t forgiven. So the people always waited to see if the high priest would make it out of the Holy of Holies. Are we forgiven? they wondered. Did the sacrifices work? Is God pleased? Are we okay?
Don’t you see what happened concerning our High Priest? The whole world was watching—without even knowing for what they were watching. And our Great High Priest, wrapped in white linen, emerged from the Holy of Holies on Easter Sunday. The tomb was the Holy of Holies? Certainly, for when the disciples peeked in that morning, they saw a bench sprinkled with blood—His blood where His body had lain. And we are told by the Gospel writer that on either end of the bench sat an angel. Thus the picture of a blood-sprinkled mercy seat was complete. When Jesus emerged from the tomb on the third day, it was a declaration of forgiveness—not just for a year, but for eternity.
Here’s the question: Where are you in your walk with the Lord?
Maybe you’re in the courtyard, saying, “I’m saved. The sacrifice was made for me. Praise the Lord, I’m forgiven!” Many of you are in that place, and that’s terrific—but there’s more.…
Move out of the courtyard and into the Holy Place, where you can serve—where you’re trimming the lamps, that is, letting your light shine for others; where you’re changing the showbread, that is, feeding others; where you’re involved in offering incense, that is, praying for others. The outer courtyard is the place of salvation. The Holy Place is the place of service. Most of us in this room have realized and celebrated our salvation and are now engaged in service. But there’s a deeper, better place. It’s called the Holy of Holies—it’s being in the presence of the Lord.
“Tell Mary to come and help me, Lord,” cried Martha.
“Oh, Martha, Mary has chosen the better part—sitting in My presence,” answered Jesus (see Luke 10:40–42).
“What a waste,” complained Judas as Mary anointed Jesus’ head with costly perfume. “That money could have been used to feed the poor.”
“On the contrary,” said Jesus. “What she has done will be spoken of throughout the world for all time” (see Matthew 26:13).
Gang, the highest, deepest, richest place to be is sitting in the presence of the Lord. I believe there may come a day when we as Christians finally understand that it’s not what we’re doing for Him in the Holy Place, but being with Him in the Holy of Holies that matters. There is nothing that more closely approximates heaven than being in the presence of the Lord.
“But there’s a problem,” you might be saying. “When I go into the Holy of Holies, when I spend time in the presence of the Lord, my sin is ever before me. I see huge splotches on the garments I thought were fairly white.”
You’re in good company, for when did Isaiah cry, “Woe is me. I am a man of unclean lips”? When he was in the presence of the Lord (see Isaiah 6). But the good news is this: An awareness of sin ushers in repentance. “Lord, I’m not what I thought I was, and I’m not who I want to be.” You know, I never have those thoughts when I’m playing racquetball. So if I fill my life with enough activity, I never have to deal with the splotches. People immerse themselves in hobbies, recreation, or even ministry because if they stay busy enough, they can walk around feeling pretty clean.
It’s only when I come with you and sit before the Lord or have a quiet time in the morning hour that I say, “I’m dirty.” And conscious repentance results in unconscious holiness. For although we leave the Holy of Holies feeling as though we’re not worthy, as though we’re inadequate, as though we’re inconsistent—others see in us a holiness of which we are not even aware.
When Moses descended from Mount Sinai after receiving the Ten Commandments, although he didn’t realize it, his face glowed (Exodus 34:29). Likewise, there are young men, older women, middle age guys in this room tonight who will choose to go deeper in the Lord, saying, “I’m not going to be satisfied in the courtyard celebrating salvation. And I’m not even going to be satisfied trimming wicks, changing bread, and offering incense. I’m going to be one who goes into the Holy of Holies.”
If you make that decision, God’s greatness, grace, and glory will cause you to repent and say, “I’m nothing.”
But people around you will say, “Man, you’re glowing. Share with us. Help us.”
Truly, a man who has been in the presence of God will, like Isaiah, say, “Woe is me.” But he’ll be used. He’ll be blessed. He’ll glow because conscious repentance leads to unconscious holiness.