Preparing for the 5th week of our Jesus> series at Victory Makati made me think deeper—more than just preparing a message, it became an invitation to examine my own heart and to draw near to Jesus not as a concept, but as my compassionate High Priest.

Hebrews 4:15–16 opens with one of the most profound truths in all of Scripture: “We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses.” That stopped me in my tracks. We live in a culture where weakness is often hidden. In finance, in leadership, even in ministry, we’re often told to show strength, to keep pushing, to hustle. But Jesus doesn’t relate to us from a distance. He entered into our humanity, embraced our limitations—without sin—so He could stand in solidarity with us. Not just to rescue us from sin, but to walk with us through suffering.

The more I wrestled with this passage, the more I realized—Jesus doesn’t just understand our struggles cognitively; He feels it with us. He knows what it means to be tired, tempted, and misunderstood. He knows rejection, sorrow, and pain. And because of that, we can approach His throne not in fear but with confidence, to receive mercy and grace in our time of need. That’s not just good theology—that’s good news.

Hebrews 5 deepens this picture by showing us that Jesus wasn’t self-appointed. He didn’t campaign for spiritual power. “No one takes this honor for himself, but only when called by God.” In a world where so many seek titles and positions, this was a sobering reminder: Jesus was appointed by the Father, just like Melchizedek—a priest not based on human lineage, but by divine calling. That’s what makes Him the Better High Priest. He is both fully God and fully man—eternal, yet deeply personal.

Verse 7 struck me most: “In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears…” That picture of Jesus praying with anguish reminded me that even our Savior wasn’t immune to pain. He didn’t fast-track past suffering. He learned obedience through what He suffered. That’s a hard truth, especially for someone like me who often tries to minimize pain or solve it quickly. But here’s the mystery of the kingdom: obedience is formed in the fire, not on the mountaintop.

And what was the result? He became the source of eternal salvation to all who obey Him. That’s not just theological theory—it’s a call to trust, to surrender, and to follow Him even when it hurts. Because He went first. Because He understands. Because He intercedes.

As I reflect on all of this, I’m reminded that our High Priest is not detached. He is near. He doesn’t just hand out grace from heaven—He invites us to experience it in real-time, right here in the messiness of life. And that changes everything.

To the tired professional trying to keep it all together, to the parent wrestling with uncertainty, to the leader carrying burdens no one sees—there’s a High Priest who knows. And more than that, there’s a throne of grace open to you, where Jesus Himself waits—not with judgment, but with mercy.

So yes, Jesus is greater—not because He avoids our pain, but because He redeems it. Not because He condemns our weakness, but because He meets us in it. As I preach this message, I don’t just want people to learn about Jesus. I want them to run to Him. Because He is not only worthy—He is willing.

Let us draw near. He is better.

A Prayer for the Weary and Willing

Jesus, our Great High Priest,

Thank You for knowing our weakness, for feeling what we feel, and for offering us mercy instead of condemnation. Thank You that You do not stand far off when we are tired, anxious, or broken. You stand near, with arms open wide.

Forgive us for the times we have relied on our own strength, for the times we’ve hidden behind a mask of competence. Teach us to rest—not just in empty busyness, but in You. Help us to obey even when it’s hard, to trust even when it hurts, and to lead with humility, just as You did.

Lord, for everyone who’s feeling exhausted, uncertain, or unworthy—let Your grace meet them today. Remind them that Your throne is not one of judgment, but of grace. Help us all to draw near with confidence, because we are not alone.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.