Jesus, my great High Priest

Some days I'm crazy busy; the next I can't find work to do with a map. I headed back to Mebane for a prayer meeting featuring a visiting Andy Hamilton, hit campus for the last performance of the Last-Day-of-Classes concert featuring Jason Mraz, and now am watching poker on the tube after chatting with Hannah Hoffman for the first time in a few years.

We sang the hymn below this evening; it's one of my favorites. Perhaps that's because of all the past tense verbs in it, or because it contains no mention of a church, sacraments, good works, baptism, reformation of one's life, or "things you have to do", but rather focuses on what He has done. Anyone who's looking to these, even partially, to secure their relationship with God and hope of heaven has built their house on quicksand. The only secure bedrock for one's life is built on by looking outside of yourself, to the finished work of another.

Jesus, my great High Priest,
Offered his blood and died;
My guilty conscience seeks
No sacrifice beside.
His pow'rful blood did once atone,
And now it pleads before the Throne.

To this dear Surety's hand
Will I commit my cause;
He answers and fulfills
His Father's broken laws.
Behold my soul at freedom set;
My Surety paid the dreadful debt.