From Hebrews 10: Why gather?

“And let us consider one another in order to provoke love and good works, not neglecting to gather together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging each other, and all the more as you see the day approaching.” (vv. 24-25)

Why should we go to church? Why should we not neglect gathering together?

It’s not just about obedience. It’s not about “being a good Christian person.” It’s not about checking boxes we hope someone in heaven will look at.

So…why go to church?

Led by the confession of our hope, which stirs our worship and our enjoyment of Christ, we gather so that we might be encouraged. We gather, and we are strengthened for the days between the Sundays. We gather so that our shared hope will produce shared joy on the way to shared service. We gather, provoking one another and partnering with one another, all so we might carry our confession beyond the church’s walls.

The gathering isn’t just about a worship service. It’s about worship that leads to service—as community, in our community.

Remember that, come Sunday. And don’t neglect gathering together.

— Tyler

From Hebrews 9: What Jesus Left Us

“Therefore, he is the mediator of a new covenant, so that those who are called might receive the promise of the eternal inheritance, because a death has taken place for redemption from the transgressions committed under the first covenant.” (v. 15)

It’s a fascinating comparison.

To help us understand the New Covenant in Christ, the Holy Spirit led the writer of Hebrews to an illustration. The writer compared the New Covenant—salvation by grace through faith because of Christ—to a will.

Do you have a will? Have you thought about one before? What’s the purpose of such a document?

Try this:

A will explicates who gets what, of yours and from you, when you die.

This is the image the writer picks up on: We who believe have been given the covenant of grace. We have been granted forgiveness and mercy. We have received ultimate cleansing, of the heart, and not just surface-level. And all of it was promised in the things written.

But, for it to take effect, the One who had the things to give…had to die.

Jesus, because He died, leaves us His life. Because the terms of the will are fulfilled, the gifts are transferred. It was a promise before the cross; it is a reality because of it.

The will of the Worthy One is wonderfully good for us, because He has left us the Gospel.

— Tyler

From Hebrews 8: Forgiving and Forgetting

“For I will forgive their wrongdoing, and I will never again remember their sins.” (v. 12)

Consider the miracle:

(When we taught our kids what a miracle is, we defined it as a thing only God can do. Just in case that helps here.)

Consider the miracle:

God, because of Christ, forgives your sin…and forgets it.

You and I are incapable of forgetting. We remember it all. In fact, in remembering, the enemy constantly seeks to leverage our shame and rob our confidence.

We might say a lot about forgiveness, but we never forget.

But here is the miracle: God does! He forgives, because Christ’s atonement is sufficient, and you receive it by His grace through faith. And He forgets, because heaven’s record of it is literally erased, and you are conformed to Christ’s image.

In other words, when you stand before Him, He won’t see you the way you remember you. He’ll see Jesus the way He remembers Him.

Freedom from what you can’t forget is hard to come by. Just remember that you’re the only one remembering.

— Tyler

From Hebrews 7: Not Like Us

“For this is the kind of high priest we need: holy, innocent, undefiled, separated from sinners, and exalted above the heavens.” (v. 26)

There are a lot of ways that a lot of people like to speak about Jesus, popularly.

Popularly, people emphasize just how relatable Jesus is, how “like us” He is, and how approachable He is.

Is Jesus relatable, like us, and approachable? Yes.

But He is also holy. Jesus is pure and innocent and given. And He is sovereign, exalted.

The whole point of this chapter’s priestly comparisons is to magnify Jesus, to exalt Him, and to elevate Him. Jesus’ ministry—His atoning sacrifice on the cross—isn’t like that of any human priest, because Jesus Himself isn’t really like them. His lineage, His investiture, and His office are all superior and ultimate. Yes, Jesus was humbled and emptied of heaven to take on our flesh, but not in a way that diminishes His utter authority.

Cherish the fact that His work permits us to draw near to Him. But don’t relegate Him to mere relatability.

— Tyler

From Hebrews 6: Desiring and Demonstrating

“Now we desire each of you to demonstrate the same diligence for the full assurance of your hope until the end, so that you won’t become lazy but will be imitators of those who inherit the promises through faith and perseverance.” (vv. 11-12)

There is a huge difference between desiring diligence and demonstrating it.

A lot of us desire diligence. That applies to just about everything—health, work, finances—and it for-sure applies in faith. We want to be the people who go deeper in study, further in service, and greater in generosity. We desire diligence and its fruit.

But demonstrating diligence is something else entirely. Demonstrating diligence means carrying that desire into action. We get hung up because we think the action needs to resemble the fruit of diligence over time, but what we’re really after is the action that builds diligence brick by brick. A demonstration of diligence looks like taking small diligent steps, and consistently.

There’s a big difference between desiring and demonstrating. Let’s take some steps together.

— Tyler

From Hebrews 5: A Word About Pastoring

“He is able to deal gently with those who are ignorant and are going astray, since he is also clothed with weakness.” (v. 2)

A word about pastors:

Very few of the scriptural qualifications for pastors are “job” related. In fact, it might be just one: he must be able to teach (cf. 1 Tim. 3). The scriptural qualifications, when you get into them, are almost all character concerns.

And among them is this: dealing gently with sinners. That doesn’t mean he shouldn’t lead people into conviction of sin, under the authority of the Word. It does mean, however, that he ought to be a grace-giver, and grace-shower, and a grace-modeler as he does it. He himself is a sinner in meed of grace, so he ought to deal gently with sinners, while showing them the way home.

While we’re on the subject, church:

Remember that the man is clothed in weakness. Remember that he is as Christ-dependent as anyone else, and that his inadequacy will occasionally be on full display. Remember that he needs a people who will deal gently with him, too, as he gives himself to them.

Let’s live up to these character callings—together.

— Tyler

From Hebrews 4: The Rest

“Therefore, a Sabbath rest remains for God’s people.” (v. 9)

Hebrews 4 is filled with sweet truths.

It tells us of Jesus, our High Priest, who sympathizes with us. It assures us that we are not abandoned to temptation, because He was tempted, and He prevailed for us. It tells us that the Word of God is alive, that the judgment of God is just, and that the Son of God has made the way for us.

But which is the sweetest truth of Hebrews 4?

The rest.

You can rest, in Christ. You find rest in Him, by faith. He has finished the work, so that His people would be the ultimate Sabbath people.

The entire promise pattern is filled full in Christ. What was glimpsed on Sabbath days and hoped for in the Promised Land is given, ultimately and perfectly and eternally, in the One who put works to bed for good. Now we, who receive His grace and His mercy by faith, can rest.

Rest in Jesus’ goodness.

Rest in Jesus’ gift.

Rest in Jesus, who welcomes us into His glorious presence, through no work of our own.

Rest, knowing that we are secure in Him.

No other religion gives you rest, because every other religion is made up. But we rest, for Christ has finished the work, and we are His.

That’s a sweet truth.

— Tyler

From Hebrews 3: Warnings Abound

“But encourage each other daily, while it is still called today, so that none of you is hardened by sin’s deception.” (v. 13)

Alongside the thesis (“Jesus is better”), Hebrews features a theme.

And—not gonna lie—it isn’t very popular.

The theme is warning.

There is a consistent reminder—rooted in history, but relevant in the moment—that our faithfulness matters. It tells the truth about our belief and about our salvation. And, when it is absent or invisible or abandoned, that means something.

You’ll hear it again and again in these chapters.

So what should we do about it?

We shouldn’t just try to believe harder. Every one of us comes up against times of fear and doubt and failure. And what we need then isn’t just a reminder to be a better believer. What we need is to be surrounded by believers!

Our mutual encouragement, our shared burdens, our prophetic reminders, our faithful accountability, and our willing help all buoy whichever one of us is unmoored for a season. So stay in each other’s lives! And let’s keep each other from living up to Hebrews’ warnings.

— Tyler

From Hebrews 2: Help in Temptation

“For since he himself has suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are tempted.” (v. 18)

What do you do when you are tempted?

I know what I do—too often, and for shame. I wrestle temptation for a moment, then I fall back on grace, while I willingly permit the stumble. I don’t seek help with the temptation; I seek help with my sin’s consequence.

Yet the glorious truth of Christ is that He helps us in our temptation! He knows the feeling. He knows the wrestle. And He conquered it all—fully, perfectly, wondrously—so that you and I might be freed!

The writer of Hebrews reminds us that we are neither alone nor abandoned when temptation comes. And, because there is help to be found in Christ, we ought to come to Him then, in the “now” of temptation rather than just the “later” of repentance.

Pray for me, as I try to remember that. I’ll pray for you, too.

— Tyler

From Hebrews 1: Jesus is Better

“The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact expression of his nature, sustaining all things by his powerful word. After making purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high.” (v. 3)

As you read the Letter to the Hebrews, look for its central theme throughout:

The elevation, magnification, and exaltation of Jesus the Christ.

I heard one commentator summarize the book by saying, “Jesus is better.” He wasn’t wrong.

Here’s how the argument is set up, even before the author begins comparing the Lord with God’s angels:

We are told that Jesus has shown us all of God’s radiance, all of God’s glory, and all of God’s character. He is the exact expression of God. The invisible is made visible in Him. In a way that no creation and no other messenger could convey, Jesus has shown us the Father, for they share the same essence.

Once you know that knowing Jesus means knowing Holy God, you will know that Jesus is worthy, and you will know to exalt Him.

— Tyler

From Philemon: Brave Conversations

“But I didn’t want to do anything without your consent, so that your good deed might not be out of obligation, but of your own free will.” (v. 14)

How do you handle difficult conversations?

One thing we can learn from this brief letter—and from Paul’s personal example—is this:

Believers in the church should be good at dialogue. Whatever it is, we have to be brave enough to bring it up, and to bring it up to the right person. We have to be both truthful and clear, and our humility ought to be equally honest. And we have to trust that Jesus-following, Spirit-filled, Bible-rooted brothers and sisters will engage in difficult matters with us, and with maturity.

Paul wrote to his friend in the church, literally asking the man to release an enslaved believer and let him leave. Paul did it with a view to Christ, and also with a determinedly personal perspective. But he didn’t strong-arm his friend or belittle the man’s faith or even quietly seethe about it. And he for sure didn’t gossip about it. He went to the one who could answer the question, and he asked in humility.

May we grow to be a church that does that. May we be brave, humble, and clear. May we trust one another. And may we show our maturity in Christ as we do it.

— Tyler

From Philippians 4: The Answer You Didn’t Ask For

“Don’t worry about anything, but in everything, through prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” (vv. 6-7)

When you followed the instructions…

When you carried everything to the Lord in prayer…

When you rejoiced and trusted and submitted in worship…

…what did you expect to receive?

I think a lot of us expect…well…what we expect. We expect an answer. Specifically, we expect an answer to the needs we brought, which would be an answer that satisfies those needs.

We expect that, when we pray, we’ll be given what we asked for.

But that’s not what the Word promises.

Do those kinds of answers come? Undoubtedly. God knows how to give good gifts, encourages you to pray for those good gifts, and assures us that the gifts He gives will be the gifts that are for our good.

Yet there is a sweeter truth still:

God, when we pray and trust and submit, gives us peace.

A peace beyond worldly reckoning.

A peace deeper than what anything we desire might meet.

A peace that surpasses.

That’s the answer to every prayer: God will secure you with peace. And that’s better than whatever it is we thought we wanted.

— Tyler

From Philippians 3: Saved to Run

“I pursue as my goal the prize promised by God’s heavenly call in Christ Jesus.” (v. 14)

It’s a flummoxing question:

“If righteousness is the gift of faith—and if it cannot be earned—then why does Paul ‘run’ for heavenly rewards?”

We are taught (rightly) that the Gospel is not of works, but of faith. We are saved by grace. We are forgiven by grace. The Spirit fills is by grace. We get heaven by grace. You can’t train for, work for, or earn grace. Jesus paid for it.

Yet Paul insists on training and working for and attaining something: rewards, a “prize.”

What gives?

Two keys:

First, the New Testament is not shy about a doctrine of rewards, of heaven’s good things for good-and-faithful servants. It tells us of stewardships and crowns awarded to the faithful. (Just don’t overlook that we who get them will also lay them at Jesus’ feet in worship.)

Second, the life we are given by grace is meant to glorify Him in the living. So we run—from sin, and toward Him—as ones who have already been sanctified by the Spirit, yet who are called to ever deepening sanctification. There is reward there! We get the joy of running rightly, a vital hope in heaven, and a purer value for the promised resurrection.

Saved by grace, and saved to run, for Jesus’ glory—and, yes, our own.

Flummoxing indeed.

— Tyler

From Philippians 2: He’s Earned It

“For this reason God highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee will bow  — in heaven and on earth and under the earth  — and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” (vv. 9-11(

He’s earned it.

Jesus, the Son of God, emptied Himself and became like us. He was perfectly obedient in the flesh, as we could not be. He was humbled and humiliated—He took what we deserved—all the way to the cross, to death.

Why do we call Him “Lord”? Why do we worship Him? Why are our songs, now and forever, about Him—His work, His worth?

It’s because He is highly exalted by God the Father. Jesus’ name has become the name above every name. His Father decreed it, and His Spirit declares it in our hearts. And that isn’t capricious theologizing: Jesus has earned it, deserves it, and is worthy of it because of His specific and inimitable and historical work.

Lift high His name, for it is already elevated, and rightly so.

— Tyler

From Philippians 1: Living & Dying

“For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.” (v. 21)

The Christian’s greatest challenge, in the light of the Gospel, is learning to get this right.

No matter how often we say it, we are still likely to do the actual opposite: We live as if LIVING is our gain. We remain allergic to death, even as we are told that DYING will be our gain. Death is undoubtedly an enemy—but it’s an enemy that no longer holds any real power.

That’s why Paul is torn. He told the Philippians that he was ready for death, because death means being with Jesus, and that’s BETTER. Yet he stewarded his living days in Jesus’ light, too, for a life lived rightly is ultimately lived for Him.

Meanwhile, we are prone to cling to this life’s pleasures, instead of to its purpose. For us, to live is gain, and we’re likely to put our vital hope in Christ off until death. We get it precisely backward.

Don’t fear death, for it is glorious gain, for those in Christ. And, until He comes or you go, live vitally for Him.

— Tyler

From Ephesians 6: Strong

“Finally, be strengthened by the Lord and by his vast strength.” (v. 10)

Strengthened.

I do a lot in my life to try to feel strong. I work out. I eat better than I might. I maintain some flexibility and mobility. I keep my mind in books (and not just on screens).

I want to be strong.

And the Bible answers the question:

“Where does real strength come from?”

From His—from God’s—vast strength.

You can maintain a lot of disciplines, and you can arm yourself with material means—but none of it is the strength you crave. In Him, you have truth and righteousness and peace and purpose. In Him, you have power, because you have His presence by the Spirit. In Him, you stand in salvation, and you speak hope.

The Bible urges you toward this reality: Be strengthened by His vast strength!

I’m praying it for you today.

— Tyler

From Ephesians 5: Light

“Don’t participate in the fruitless works of darkness, but instead expose them.” (v. 11)

Light.

In Christ, you are light.

You are not just in the light. You are not just a light.

You are light.

You once were darkness. Not just in darkness, but darkness itself. That means that, when you entered a space, things got darker—because of selfishness, because of bitterness, because of grudges and because of ego and because of unforgiveness.

But now, in Christ, you are light.

That means that, when you enter a space now, things brighten. You illuminate darkness in stark relief, and you radiate goodness in what you say and think and do. You clarify. You shine with Gospel truth. You draw others toward Jesus.

You are light now.

Live out that distinction.

— Tyler

From Ephesians 4: Worthy

“Therefore I, the prisoner in the Lord, urge you to walk worthy of the calling you have received, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.” (vv. 1-3)

Worthy.

We might get this one wrong in the church.

When the Word instructs us to “walk worthy of our calling,” we likely default to a kind of generalized worthiness. We translate “worthy” to mean “as morally perfect as possible.” So we turn the walk into a personalized pursuit of purity.

But what was Paul (inspired) actually leading us toward?

Unity.

Love.

Humility and gentleness and grace.

He was led to lead us toward all these things—specifically in the church, as the church. Why? Because it’s a testimony to Christ, who rescued us from the darkness and called us into His light, together.

If we miss the fact that our willing humility is a witness to Him, we’ll fall short of this calling’s worthiness. But if we genuinely love one another, genuinely serve alongside one another, genuinely forgive one another, genuinely honor one another, and genuinely submit one to the other, we’ll resemble Christ—and we’ll look like the people He genuinely saved.

“Worthy” is a specific kind of witness.

Let’s work it out and walk it out, together.

— Tyler

From Ephesians 3: In

“In him we have boldness and confident access through faith in him.” (v. 12)

In.

It’s become this totally expected, totally known, totally usual Gospel concept.

We who were “out”—because of sin and its impossible distance—get to be “in,” because of Christ. By His grace, we who ought to be excluded from life and from heaven aren’t. We’re in.

That’s fundamental to our proclamation of the Gospel.

But don’t miss how truly radical “in” really is, for you.

You and I had more than sin counted against us. We also had our foreign, Gentile, non-Jewish lineage—which means we were excluded from the Promise that Abraham knew. We were outsiders even under the Law. We were the furthest thing from “in.”

Then came Christ, the unfolding of the mystery, and grace. In Him, we have what no previous generation could have hoped for, which is access to every heavenly promise. And it comes by faith! By faith, because of grace, we’re in!

Don’t lose sight of just how comprehensively radical that Good News is—and enjoy your place in the by-grace family tree.

— Tyler

From Ephesians 2: Dead

“And you were dead in your trespasses and sins in which you previously walked according to the ways of this world, according to the ruler of the power of the air, the spirit now working in the disobedient.” (vv. 1-2)

Dead.

That’s an accurate descriptor, even if it is stark.

The fact is, you and I were not-at-all alive, apart from Christ. We functioned, but we didn’t live. Every day and every step and every breath brought us closer to the dust—and there was nothing we could do to get our hearts beating.

We were dying, doing dead things, in our death.

How good, then, is the grace-gift?! In Christ, we are given life, for He lives. In Christ, we do not die, because He died. In Christ, we breathe heaven in, for He has given us His Spirit. In Christ, our dead works are exposed for what they were, and God’s mercies are magnified.

My memory is good enough that I still remember the difference. I remember the deadness of my dead-life, I set it against the fullness of this grace-life, and I worship.

“Dead” used to describe you, too. Don’t forget that—and don’t forget to revel in His mercy anew.

— Tyler