Boldly to the throne

Thrones are approached carefully, if at all — eyes down, requests rehearsed, aware of the guards. Hebrews tears that etiquette up. Come boldly, it says, because of what kind of throne this is: a throne of grace. The seat of ultimate power is occupied by mercy, and the door policy reflects the Occupant.

The boldness rests on the verses just before: we have a High Priest who is touched with the feeling of our infirmities — Jesus, who has been tired, tempted, grieved, and misunderstood, and now hears our prayers from the inside of that experience. You are not explaining your weakness to someone unacquainted with it.

And look at what is stocked there: mercy for what is behind you, grace to help for what is ahead — dispensed “in time of need,” which is to say, on schedule. Whatever today’s need turns out to be, the supply room sits open, and timidity is the only thing that keeps people out. Come boldly. You were told to.