Hebrews 9:18
"Now where there is forgiveness of these things, an offering for sin is no longer required."

The writer of Hebrews again drives home the superiority of Christ’s once-for-all sacrifice over the repeated offerings of the old covenant.

Christ, by his death, has become the Mediator. "One God, one Mediator (the man Christ Jesus)." (1 Timothy 2:5) And adding layers risks diminishing His sufficiency.

The biblical fact of the matter is, there is a gulf between the living and the dead that preserves the uniqueness of Christ’s mediation and keeps us anchored in the living Word of God, rather than seeking additional intercessors. This is precisely why Hebrews warns so strongly against drifting into these human traditions (Hebrews 2:1; 3:12; 6:19; 10:23). The new covenant is simpler, more direct, and more glorious than those old shadows and their modern equivalents.

The fixed gulf (Luke 16:26) is not a minor detail; it is part of God’s wise design that magnifies the glory of Christ’s singular mediation. It protects the simplicity and sufficiency of the new covenant, just as the writer of Hebrews painfully labors to show. It protects Christ's sufficiency against supplemental provisions added by means of human traditions.

And these aren't abstract cautions. They confront the very real temptation to supplement or complicate what Christ has already perfectly accomplished. Christ's new covenant sweeps aside all these superstitions by means of one sacrifice, one Mediator, with direct access, and a cleansed conscience (Hebrews 10:19–22). And His sacrifice is complete, perfect, and once for all. This cannot be stated enough because the idols continue to find adherents for themselves.

Seeking additional intercessors from across the gulf risks drifting back toward those shadows. And it's frustrating to see these shadows casted over the light of the gospel. Too many continue to chase these shadows into the darkness.

This gulf between the living and the dead is intentional. It is not a harsh barrier to love or venerate, but a merciful boundary that is supposed to keep our eyes fixed on the living Christ and the living Word who's Spirit lives within those who believe in Christ's grace and obey his word. This gulf protects the breathtaking simplicity and sufficiency of the new covenant against every human impulse to supplement what Jesus has already perfected.

In my time here on this "living" side of the gulf I've observed what seems to drive these shadow dwellers towards supplemental support from the dead. And what it boils down to is a deep desire for self-rule. Now, I understand that it seems to be contrary to their positions. On the surface it seems that their veneration supports the biblical view. But the truth is, when you employ icons and relics, you are assuming self-rule. You're giving yourself, or taking into yourself the power to control the salvation of your soul. It becomes a means for managing or securing one’s standing with God. Beneath the sincere language of devotion and communion of saints often lies the ancient impulse toward self-rule.

On the surface, these practices can appear humble; even honoring holy examples, seeking extra intercession, surrounding oneself with tangible reminders of the faith. But functionally, they insert human mechanisms for controlling or advancing one’s salvation and sanctification. And as we have seen, this is the subtle drift Hebrews confronts head-on.

Scripture repeatedly exposes this tendency. Colossians 2:23 warns against "self-imposed worship" and regulations that have "an appearance of wisdom" but lack any value in restraining the flesh. Likewise, Isaiah 64:6 and the prophets remind us that even our most religious efforts are like filthy rags apart from the righteousness that comes by faith alone.

So all these "shadows" that I consider to be "superstitions" can easily function as modern "high places" in the mind of the people who need to rule their own destiny. They need these visible, material, and controllable aids that give the illusion of added security or power over the unseen. Mainly because the gulf exists. It makes the unseen unseen.

But that invisibility is not a flaw to be patched up with our visible tradition props and trademarks. That invisibility created by the fixed gulf (Luke 16:26) is not a defect in God’s design to be corrected by human ingenuity. It is a deliberate feature that calls us to walk by faith, not by sight (2 Corinthians 5:7). The new covenant does not hand us controllable mechanisms to manage the unseen. Instead, it strips all that away and invites us into direct, Spirit-enabled relationship with the living God through the finished work of Christ.

The heart that still craves self-rule reaches for those visible, material, and controllable aids (icons, relics, statues, prescribed rituals) because the gulf makes the departed (and much of the spiritual realm) seem inaccessible. And it's interesting because the craving results in a very high reach into "high places". More elaborate recipes. Vast glorious architectures. And voluminous tangible substitutes that offer the illusion of added security, leverage, or merit. But it's all subtly reasserting human control over what only God can do and has done once and for all.

This is the subtle tragedy; it all reasserts human control over the very realm that belongs entirely to the sovereign grace of God. The new covenant was meant to end all such visible ladders designed to climb over into paradise under one's own strength. But somehow, post direct apostolic influence, these ornate rituals, voluminous traditions, and intricate recipes for spiritual security managed to creep back into the next millennia of Christian history.

This post-apostolic history shows how quickly the flesh can reintroduce "high places" even among sincere believers. What begins as honoring the faithful saints as helpful reminders, subtly hardens into systems that supplement (or even replace) simple trust in Christ alone.

It's as if, as soon as the last apostle went on, across that gulf into glory, the church ignored everything they warned about. As soon as the last living apostolic voice fell silent, the warnings against drifting began to be softened, reinterpreted, or gradually set aside in large segments of the visible church. The very things the apostles labored to guard; the sufficiency of Christ, the simplicity of the new covenant, the finished work, and direct access to God, were supplemented with visible structures, intercessory layers, and elaborate systems. It's as if the ink was barely dry on the epistles before the pull of the old shadows and the craving for tangible control reasserted itself.

This is why the shadows frustrate so many who are clear on faith and grace alone, and it also clarifies the mission. It highlights the urgency of proclaiming the pure, undiluted new covenant on this side of the gulf.

Church:
The fixed gulf, and the removal of the departed from earthly affairs, exists for our own good. It prevents us from climbing ladders of our own making and forces us back to the living Word and the living Christ who dwells within us. Post-apostolic drifts into ornate traditions and high places only proves how desperately the flesh loves self-rule, even when robed in glorious religious architecture. And this realization should trigger self-reflection and examination.

Going forward, the shadows persist, but the light of the gospel shines brighter in contrast. Turn to that gospel whenever you feel the pull from the self-rule demons. The self-rule demons never fully retire this side of glory, but neither does the blazing sufficiency of Christ. Direct trust in the finished work remains the only true path. Turn back to the gospel.

Amen 🙏🏼