Hebrews -- Holding on to JesusНамуна

Only a Shadow

We all remember that classic scene in Peter Pan where Peter is trying to sew his shadow back on. It’s whimsical and strange, mostly because of how alive the shadow seems, like it has a mind of its own. But of course, we know the truth: A shadow isn’t a person. It doesn’t think. It has no will, no power, no substance of its own. A shadow is entirely dependent on the object that casts it.

So, what exactly is a shadow? A shadow reveals that something real is nearby. It appears before or alongside the thing itself, often preceding it into view. A shadow isn’t the real thing, but it points directly to it. It’s connected and inseparable, but it has no value apart from the object casting it. You wouldn’t buy the shadow of a house. It offers no shelter. You wouldn’t find comfort in the shadow of a person. You want the person themselves. Shadows only exist where light is present. In total darkness, there are no shadows.

In this way, much of the Old Testament was a shadow cast by Jesus, the Light of the world. He is the substance; the law was the silhouette. The law of Moses, the sacrificial system, the tabernacle ... all were part of this great shadow pointing toward the coming Messiah, just as the church points back toward Jesus. When the sun is behind us, the shadow stretches before us. When the sun is in front, the shadow falls behind. So it is with Christ. For those living before His birth, the shadow came first, the law, the ceremonies, the promises. But now, for those living in the light of His resurrection, that shadow is behind us. Christ has come. The substance has arrived.

Hebrews 10:1 tells us, “The law is only a shadow of the good things that are coming, not the realities themselves.” (NIV)

Similarly, Colossians 2:17 says, “These are a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ." (NIV)

This doesn’t mean the shadow was bad. It had value as a signpost, a pointer, and a preview of better things. But it could never cleanse sin. It could never save. The endless repetition of sacrifices under the Old Covenant was a reminder that the work was incomplete. If those sacrifices had truly dealt with sin, they would have ended. Instead, year after year, the people were reminded of their guilt. It was like treating a disease with a temporary cover, and not a cure.

The Hebrew word for atonement, kophar, literally means “to cover.” Animal sacrifice under the Old Covenant could cover sin, but it could never remove it. But Jesus, our perfect High Priest, our once-for-all sacrifice, takes sin completely away. The Greek word used in Luke 22:50 and Hebrews 10:4, aphaireó, means to remove entirely, to cut off completely, like Peter cutting off the ear of the high priest’s servant. That is what Jesus does with our sin. He doesn’t cover it. He removes it completely and permanently.

This is what sets Christianity apart. There is no other faith where one historical event brings eternal salvation to all who believe. Jesus’s sacrifice on the cross was once and for all, sufficient, final, complete. Let us be reminded again that this is why Jesus is seated at the right hand of God (Hebrews 10:12). His work is finished. The priests of the Old Covenant stood daily, offering sacrifices repeatedly. But Christ sat down. His sacrifice needs no repetition. His atonement is total. And now, under the New Covenant, something even greater happens: transformation. God writes His law on our hearts. He says, “Their sins and lawless acts I will remember no more” (Hebrews 10:17 NIV). Forgiveness is so complete that God chooses not to remember our sins.

So why do we still remember them? If God has removed them, we must learn to leave them behind, too. We’re not on probation. Our past sins no longer influence His present dealings with us. They have no power over us. The shadow is gone. The light has come. Let the shadow point you to the substance. Let the law remind you of your need. But let the gospel remind you of your Savior.