Hebrews -- Holding on to JesusНамуна

The Perfect Sacrifice

A generation ago, it was common for people to buy things on layaway. You could go to a department store, pick out a new vacuum cleaner, and put it on layaway. The store would set it aside, and you’d make small payments over time until the item was finally yours and you could bring it home. In essence, layaway was an IOU, a promise to pay in full, eventually.

In many ways, every Old Testament sacrifice functioned like an IOU. It was a temporary payment toward a debt that could never be fully cleared by human effort. Because sin continued, so did the sacrifices, for thousands of years. Over and over, animals were offered, not because they could truly take away sin, but because they pointed forward to a perfect and final payment that only Jesus Christ could make. Animal sacrifice was sufficient for temporary atonement on earth, but only a perfect, sinless, willing sacrifice could bring eternal redemption. Jesus’s sacrifice stands alone in its power and purpose: It was voluntary, perfect, motivated by love, and accomplished once for all what could not any other way.

At the tabernacle, the sacrifice was made at the altar outside the veil, and the blood was carried into the Most Holy Place—the very representation of God’s throne. In the same way, Jesus had to die outside of heaven, among sinful men, but His blood was brought into the presence of God to secure our eternal access. As we read yesterday, the high priest of Israel entered the Most Holy Place once a year, only to leave again, letting the veil fall behind him. The barrier remained. But when Jesus died, the veil in the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom, from heaven to earth. He didn’t go in and come out. He went in and stayed. And now, He welcomes us in. This is why Christianity is about access, not barriers. This truth stands at the heart of the New Covenant. The Old Covenant required continual sacrifices. But Jesus’s sacrifice was once and for all. “It is finished” wasn’t a poetic flourish; it was a declaration of complete and total payment. Nothing more is needed.

This clarity is one reason why, as Protestants, we reject the idea of the Mass as a repeated sacrifice of Christ. In Catholic theology, the Eucharist is not simply a remembrance of Christ’s work, but a re-presentation, a repeated offering and sacrifice. Through the doctrine of transubstantiation, the bread and wine are said to become the literal body and blood of Christ. This practice, though sincere, unintentionally implies that Jesus’s original sacrifice was insufficient, that it must be reenacted again and again. Scripture teaches something very different. Hebrews 9:26 says that Jesus “has appeared once for all at the end of the ages to do away with sin by the sacrifice of himself.” If His sacrifice were not perfect, it would have to be repeated endlessly. But because it was perfect, it only had to happen once.

This also helps us understand the sobering reality of eternal judgment. Those who reject Christ’s perfect payment are left to pay their own debt. But since no one is perfect, the payment can never be completed; hence the eternity of hell’s separation from a Holy God. If the debt could be paid in full by human effort, then the soul could be released. But it never can.

Jesus’s death wasn’t symbolic or partial; it was complete. His work in heaven now reflects back to that finished sacrifice. All the Old Testament offerings made in faith were finally paid off at the cross. Just like a will doesn’t go into effect until someone dies, the New Covenant required the death of the Testator, Jesus Himself, before it went into effect. This is why blood is so central in Scripture: “Without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness of sins” (Hebrews 9:22 NIV). Today, people think sin is forgiven by time, by good behavior, or simply by dying. But Scripture says otherwise: Only blood brings forgiveness, and only perfect blood brings eternal redemption.

Charles Spurgeon, in his sermon “The Blood-Shedding,” tells of three fools. One is a wounded soldier who, instead of seeking medical help, obsesses over what kind of bullet wounded him. Another is a ship captain, caught in a deadly storm, who studies his charts to determine where the storm came from instead of steering the ship. The third is a sinner, dying in his guilt, who is more concerned about the origin of evil than his own rescue. In all these cases, the lesson is clear: Look to the solution, not just the problem.

Jesus is the solution. His sacrifice is not something we repeat; it is something we receive. It’s not a process; it’s a promise. And it’s not an IOU anymore. It has been paid in full for those who accept it.