Refreshing wholeness

Hebrews 10: 5–10

5 Therefore, when Christ came into the world, he said:  “Sacrifice and offering you did not desire, but a body you prepared for me; 6 with burnt offerings and sin offerings you were not pleased. 7 Then I said, ‘Here I am—it is written about me in the scroll— I have come to do your will, my God.’” 8 First he said, “Sacrifices and offerings, burnt offerings and sin offerings you did not desire, nor were you pleased with them”—though they were offered in accordance with the law. 9 Then he said, “Here I am, I have come to do your will.” He sets aside the first to establish the second. 10 And by that will, we have been made holy through the sacrifice of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.

​Our text begins with a deeply countercultural truth, especially during the holiday season when we are often consumed with rituals, expectations, and outward displays. Hebrews reminds us that when Christ came into the world, He did not come to offer more sacrifices or burnt offerings, even though those were required by the law. Instead, He said, “Here I am... I have come to do Your will, O God.” What God ultimately desired was not just sacrifice, but surrender. Not performance, but presence.
 
We can compare this to how we give gifts. During Christmas, some people give out of obligation. We know that feeling, you receive a gift, and immediately realize it was bought at the last minute, with little thought or affection. On the other hand, think of the child who plucks a handful of dandelions from the yard and gives them to their mom. It’s not the value of the gift that matters; it’s the love and intention behind it. That’s the difference between ritual and relationship. That’s the kind of heart God seeks. It is not about performing religious duties. It’s about walking with Him in daily obedience and intimate trust.
 
When Christ entered the world, He came not to improve the old system, but to fulfill and transcend it. He didn't say, "Let me show you how to offer sacrifices better." Instead, He said, “I have come to do Your will.” He came in a body prepared by God, so that through that body He could offer a once-for-all sacrifice, effective for all time. Jesus didn’t come to play the part of a priest in a temple; He came to be the Lamb Himself.
 
This kind of obedience is costly. We see the struggle in Gethsemane, when Jesus prayed, “Not my will, but Yours be done.” That was not a prayer spoken lightly. It was the cry of someone who understood the full cost of surrendering the body, mind, and spirit to God’s redemptive plan.
 
In our own lives, we often want to offer God something that doesn’t require transformation. We may show up to church, sing a few songs, drop something in the offering plate, but if we leave our heart and will unchanged, we’ve missed the point. It’s like repainting a crumbling wall without fixing the foundation. God doesn’t want cosmetic fixes. He wants the whole structure of our lives, rebuilt from the inside out.
 
Hebrews makes it clear: “By that will, we have been made holy through the sacrifice of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.” Holiness isn’t a distant goal for spiritual elites. It is the gift and goal of God for each of us. We’re not just forgiven, we’re made new, transformed, sanctified by grace.
 
And yet, many believers live like holiness is unattainable. Why? Because we’ve been conditioned to think it’s all on us. We try harder, we fall again, and then we believe we’ll never be holy. But Scripture is bold: We have been made holy. It’s an act of God, already done through Jesus. Holiness begins when we stop trying to fix ourselves and start surrendering ourselves.
 
I once met a man who had spent most of his life in and out of addiction. At a recovery service, he shared, “I used to come to God only when I failed, begging to be fixed. But now, I come to Him every morning just to be with Him. And I find I don’t fall as much anymore.” That’s the power of holiness rooted in relationship, not just resolution. Holiness is not a set of rules; it’s a life immersed in the presence of Christ.
 
Jesus didn’t come to show us how to do better what we were already doing. He came to do what we couldn’t do. He came to make us new people, not just cleaner versions of our old selves. This is radical, and it challenges our comfortable Christianity. Too many today want a version of Jesus who saves them from hell but doesn’t interfere with their life. They want grace without obedience, a Savior without a Lord. But the Bible says clearly: If we deliberately keep on sinning after receiving the truth, no sacrifice is left, only a fearful expectation of judgment. This is where the gospel calls us to a decision. Will we truly surrender? Or will we treat Jesus as an accessory to our already busy lives?
 
Let me share a modern-day picture. Think of someone trying to change their health by joining a gym, but they only go once a month, never change their diet, and ignore the trainer’s advice. After a few months, they complain that it didn’t work. But the truth is, they never actually committed to the process. Discipleship is no different. The transformation Christ offers requires our whole heart, not half-hearted participation.
 
The old spiritual says: “As He died to make men holy, let us live to make men free.” There’s something deeply powerful in this line. Christ’s sacrifice not only saves us but sends us. As the Hebrews tell us, Jesus came to do God’s will, and in doing so, we have been made holy. Now, through us, God continues His work in the world. Jesus said in John 20:21: “As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.”
 
We are now agents of refreshing wholeness, not religious gatekeepers but walking witnesses of what Jesus can do in a life fully surrendered. The world doesn’t need more self-righteousness. It needs more people who have been made whole by Christ, and who now live to share that wholeness, through kindness, justice, mercy, truth, and love.
 
Maybe that looks like listening deeply to someone others ignore. Maybe it’s inviting someone into your home for a meal. Maybe it’s forgiving someone who wounded you. Or maybe it’s simply letting your children or coworkers see the peace of Christ reflected in your words and actions, day after day.
 
So why, we may ask, are we not experiencing this transformation more often? It often comes down to affection. Is Jesus the love of your life? Is He your deepest desire, or just one of many things vying for your attention? The Bible, from Genesis to Revelation, tells the same story: God wants all of you. Not part. Not Sundays. Not rituals. All.
 
Jesus still wants you, even if you’ve delayed, wandered, or resisted. The door is open. The gift is real. But the transformation begins not with religion, but with relationship, when you finally say, “Here I am, Lord. I have come to do Your will.”
 
Jesus came not to paint over your brokenness, but to make you whole. Let this season not just be about remembering His birth, but receiving the fullness of what He came to bring. Be an agent of refreshing wholeness. Show the world what it looks like when Jesus is alive in someone. Let your words heal. Let your habits reflect holiness. Let your relationships carry grace. Let your life shout: “Here I am. I have come to do Your will, O God.”