Hebrews 1:1-4, 2:5-12 (Year B October 2-8) is an opportunity to discuss Christology and the Trinity.

1:1-4 is the prologue to the letter that has the theme of the latest word from God and the greatness of the Son of God. This passage contrasts the ages of antiquity with the age of the author, ancestors with that of believers in the day of the author, and the prophets with the Son. He begins by showing that the speaking of God in the past has been diverse in geographical location and method of disclosure, the theme of Chapters 1-12. He refers to the time, which was that was long ago. He refers to God speaking, which is a metaphor, but it remains a powerful one. God spoke to their ancestors, whom he will refer to in Chapter 11. This speaking occurred in many ways and in a variety of ways by the prophets. Adam and Eve did not need to know all that Abraham needed, and Abraham did not need to know all that Moses needed, and Moses did not need to know all the King David needed. Prophets and priests had a different form of communication with the Lord as over against rulers. The notion of revelation involves what God has to say to humanity. A speaker needs someone to listen. The prophet, priest, and king listen to God, and through them, the speaking of God creates a community of faithful listeners. This simple statement of the author sums up quite well the reality and preliminary nature of Old Testament revelation. It addresses its unity and its variety. It hints at the variety of covenants in Noah, Abraham, Israel, and the house of David. It suggests that the covenant is a promise. The covenant exists in expectation of a further covenant. The Old Testament is a revelation as it looks forward with expectation to a new covenant. It points beyond itself. Kings, priests, and prophets could only hint at the reality God would bring to humanity for its redemption in Christ. We can think of the rule of kings hinting at the rule of the Lord, the forgiveness offered in the sacrificial system hinting at the forgiveness God offers, and the prophet who hears from the Lord and speaks what the Lord wants hinting of Jesus Christ as the Word.^{^[1]} He presents a brief formula for viewing the Old Testament as promise and prophecy as we think of the multiplicity of the biblical ideas of revelation.^{^[2]} Referring to time now as a definitive time, the last days, consistent with the message of the prophets and the apostles. “In the last days” (Acts 2:17, Joel 2:28-29), “In the fullness of time” (Mark 1:15, Gal 4:4), contain similar notions of the relationship between the time of the Old Testament and that of the New. God revealed Jesus as the Christ “at the end of the ages” and for the sake of humanity (I Pet 1:20). The rule of God has drawn near in Christ. The turning point of the times, revealed in Christ, is the fulfillment of all the promises of the covenant of grace.^{^[3]} Referring to speaking again, this time the Father has spoken through the Son, who is heir of all things. The Devil refers to Jesus as the Son of God (Matt 4), while John 1:18 says Jesus is the only Son who has made the Father known. The Word spoken by Jesus is self-revelation in the sense that Christ is the work of God brought to fulfillment.^{^[4]} Therefore, Christ forms a unity amid diverse forms of revelation we find in the history of Israel. God speaks, while the ancestors and we who read them are those to whom God speaks. The fact of God speaking is the center of the diversity. God spoke throughout this time. God did this in many ways and occasions. God spoke with emerging weight and definitiveness. While the speaking of God occurred in a variety of ways, it unites in the singleness and simplicity of the conclusion. The Old Testament looks forward with expectation while the New Testament recollects what God has said in the Son.^{^[5]} In all this speaking by God, the content and theme of revelation is God, and thus, close to modern notions of the self-revelation of God.^{^[6]} Yet, we would be unwise to limit the notion of revelation to this one medium.^{^[7]} The author intentionally magnifies what the Father has said in the Son. The Father created the worlds (ages) through the Son, giving the honor due to the Son. Such language reminds us of the way Wisdom was present with the Father in creation and even delighting in the human race (Prov 8:27-31 and Wisd 9:1-2, 9). In an analogous way, all things exist and find their preservation in the Lord Jesus Christ (I Cor 8:6), the Father created through the Son (Col 1:16), and God created through the Word (John 1:3). The passage concludes with a brief poem. It forms the background for the wisdom and logos tradition of Alexandria school in early Christian theology. We also find this an emphasis in Proverbs 8 as well. The Son is the reflection (ἀπαύγασμα, only use of word in NT, radiance) of the glory of God (referring to the presence of the God). The Son is the exact imprint (χαρακτὴρ, character, only occurrence of the word in the NT, an impression, representation, exact reproduction; a graving-tool, expression, stamp, or mark) of the very being (ὑποστάσεως, substance, reality, or even guaranteeing the reality) of God. Statements about Jesus as being the image of God are like statements about the divine likeness of humanity.^{^[8]} Such statements are the basis for what the creeds affirm about Jesus, including that the Son is “consubstantial,” of the same substance, as the Father. The Son sustains all things by his powerful word. The Son sustains creation, and therefore created things participate in the filial relation of Jesus Christ to the Father and in fellowship with the Father. Yet, such relation finds its mediation through the self-distinction of the Son from the Father.^{^[9]} The Son made purification for sins, the effect of the work of the Son. We have redemption through the blood of Jesus and forgiveness of our sins (Eph 1:7-8, Col 1:14). God has made the Son a sacrifice of atonement by his blood (Rom 3:25). The Son then sat down (Psa 110) at the right hand of the Majesty on high, like exalting Jesus to the right hand of God (Acts 2:33), and God highly exalting him, giving him a name above every name (Phil 2:9-11). Consistent with this passage, John 1:18, Phil 2:6-11, and Col 1:15-20 are the central New Testament affirmations of the deity of Christ. The lordship of the Son is an application of the lordship of the Father. The deity of Jesus shows who the Father is.^{^[10]} In the Son is the origin of all that differs from the Father and therefore the independence of creation in relation to the Father. The Son is the mediator of creation in the sense that creation will accomplish its purpose in Christ.^{^[11]} For the early Christian witness, this thought is pervasive.^{^[12]}

In 2: 5-9, redemption is through Christ rather than angels. The larger context, 1:4-2:18, states the superiority of Christ to the angels. He focuses here upon the notion that the humanity of Jesus, which would seem to make him inferior to the angels, is indispensable to the purpose of redemption. The Son had to become human to die. However, exaltation followed his death. God has not given this age over to angels. In fact, God has disarmed the angelic powers (Col 2:15), something the readers must acknowledge. The point is that while angels had a role in the old covenant and the Law, they do not have the same role now, with the coming of the Son. In this sense, angels are an annex to Christology. God became a human being, not an angel. Such affirmations concern the lordship of Christ over all powers.^{^[13]} If Christ is better than the angels are, then the author must attend to the fact that Christ was, for a time, made lower than the angels were. He refers to the testimony of Psa 8:4-6, which refers to human beings, capturing both the lowliness of humanity and the exaltation of humanity. Yet, the author finds a deeper sense to the passage. The author will supply the identity of this mortal human being. The author has acquaintance with the Son of Man tradition, but does little more than mention it, as he does here.^{^[14]} Human suffering and death make it clear that not all things are yet subject to humanity. Not everything subjects itself to humanity. Humanity experiences sickness, anxiety, and death. However, the Father temporarily reduced the rank of the Son in sending Jesus. The Son is the king who overthrew enemies with the help of God. Paul expresses this theme differently in a hymn in which the Son was in the form of God, but emptied himself, taking the form a slave and born in human likeness, humbling himself to the point of death, which became the occasion for God to exalt him (Phil 2:6-11). Paul will also say that God will subject all things to Christ, and that in the end, the Son will subject himself to the Father in order that God may be all in all (I Cor 15:25). Human transformation will come because God has the power to subject all things (Phil 3:21). God has put all things under the feet of Christ, making Christ the head over all things for the church, for Christ is above all rule, authority, power, dominion, and name in this age and in the age to come (Eph 1:20-23). We can see here the self-distinction within the Trinity, the Son receiving rule itself from the Father. The text is not fully Trinitarian, since it does not mention the Spirit.^{^[15]} This crowing of the Son occurs because Jesus dies by the grace of God and for all persons. He is lower the angels through his suffering and death. Yet, the Father crowns him with glory and honor because he passed through suffering and death. His suffering will become the way he explains the fraternal relationship between Jesus and the children of God. Suffering connects the Son with humanity. God appointed Jesus to pass through the valley of the shadow of death (Psa 23:4). Like us, Jesus felt the full range of human angst, forlornness, and heartache, knowing that not all was right with the world. However, God neither abandoned him nor renounced the promises of God. Yes, the Son is greater than is any angel. Yet, the Son dipped beneath them and their passionless existence for a brief time, experiencing suffering and death. Truly, Christ died for all, so that human beings might live for the one who died for them (II Cor 5:15). Thus, while united with us in suffering, Christ differs from us in the experience of death. He did not allow death to engulf or overwhelm him. He subjected himself to its power so that death would not engulf and overwhelm us.^{^[16]} Thus, what the psalmist understood as God making humanity a little lower than angels, yet God crowning them with great honor, the author understands as an analogy to what God has done in Jesus of Nazareth.

2:10-12 relates the Son to believers. The full humanness of Christ makes possible his saving death. The author stresses that God has come near to us in Jesus Christ. We do not truly know God by making surmises about the world that lead us to the logical conclusion that God exists, using the analogy of being. Rather, we know God when we turn in faith to the revelation of God in Jesus Christ, using the analogy of faith. When we turn to the event of revelation and the event of faith occurs in us through the Holy Spirit, God has come near to us. If so, we are dealing with something far more important than an historical event of the distant past. We are dealing with its present reality in the word of proclamation, in the community of believers, and in the work of the Holy Spirit.

It might be difficult to believe that Christ looked at life fully through our eyes. This is a meditation upon the mystery of the Incarnation, God become human in Christ. The writer has the Christ call us “brothers” and “sisters.” Next, he hears the Christ calling us “children,” his very “flesh and blood.” He wants us to know how closely, how intimately God has related to God’s creation in the Christ. The writer wants us to know that the angels are not the beings that are the subjects of Christ's Incarnation. No, Christ even dared "to become like us in every respect” so that he might intercede and be our priest to God. All things exist for God and through God, which is like saying that all things are from, through and for God (Rom 11:36) and that all things are from God to the point where they exist for God (I Cor 8:6). To say that all things exist “through” God is something most of us understand quickly. However, to say that all things exist for God places our existence on a personal level. God intends our lives to be spiritual acts of worship (Rom 12:2). Everything we do is to be for God’s glory (1 Cor 10:31). Even nonhuman creation — stars, seas, mountains, trees, animals —praise God by their very existence (Psa 148). It seems fitting that since the existence of all things is through God, God is bringing many children to glory. It also seems fitting that God should make the pioneer (ἀρχηγὸν) of their salvation, an interesting title for Jesus. Jesus is author of life in Acts 3:15, 5:31 and Leader and Savior. The emphasis of this author is on Christ as pioneer, champion, and high priest. Jesus is the captain and the author of our salvation. The word can refer to a “founder” in the sense of one who establishes something, or a “pioneer” in the sense of one who blazes a trail ahead of his followers. The letter makes clear that Jesus both establishes the reality of the audience’s salvation and leads them to it. He took the lead, forged out into new spiritual territory, and wrote the example we are to follow. Hebrews subsumes Christology under the crises he sees facing this congregation. Christology may become so functional to him that it ceases to be Christology.^{^[17]} Yet, such a title is close to the modern exegetical insight on the theme of the proleptic presence of salvation and the divine rule in the message and work of Jesus.^{^[18]} Such a statement does not allow us to separate universal resurrection from that of individual destiny. The new life imparted to him relates to a totality, the new humanity.^{^[19]} If cultic ideas of sacrifice, expiation, and substitution no longer communicate to a modern world, this notion of Jesus as pioneer or initiator of our salvation is still valid.^{^[20]} The Father has made Jesus perfect (fully qualified for his priestly ministry) through sufferings, which refers to both the crucifixion and the course of his human life Jesus willingly walked this path. Any life short of suffering and death would have been less than an identification with humankind and, therefore, less than a full understanding of the human condition.^{^[21]} Hebrews calls this “fitting” for the Father to do this, trying to explain why Jesus tasted death for all. His suffering and death were no accident. They are part of the divine drama of redemption. Thus, this passage relates to the difficult modern task of dealing with the development of Christology in the New Testament. Only in his completed life is he the Son, for his sufferings perfect him as the Son. The practical effect of this insight is that one must not limit the notion of Incarnation to his birth, for if other things did not happen, such as his baptism, his proclamation of the rule of God, the path of suffering, and his resurrection, he would not be the Son.^{^[22]} ¹¹ For the one who sanctifies, the Son, for which see John 17:19, and those whom the Son sanctifies all have one Father. For this reason, Jesus is not ashamed to call them (Jewish) brothers and sisters. Jesus looks at us — with all our imperfections, insecurities, and ignorance of him — and calls us family. The Son is on the same plane as those he is saving. This fact does not cause him “shame,” a quite remarkable statement, given the shame we often have of ourselves, as well as for how others act. He bases his statement on Psa 22:22, which boldly affirms that the poet will proclaim the name of the Lord to his brothers and sisters among the congregation and offer praise there. Applied by this author, this assertion stresses the Son among the family of God. Jesus refers to the people around him as his mother, brothers, and sisters (Mark 3:33-35). The risen Lord refers to “my brothers” who need to receive the word and go to Galilee (Matt 28:10). The risen Lord tells Mary that his brothers need to hear the word of his resurrection (John 20:17).

Most of us do not have the custom of addressing Jesus in this way. He is like a pioneer. He is like our brother. To put even more directly, in Jesus of Nazareth God has become brother and family member to every human being, acquainted with our grief, hurts, struggles, pains in our attempts to establish true family and true home. God has become broken humanity to show broken humanity the path toward our wholeness. He is flesh and blood, just as we are. Even though he is not part of the official priestly line, he can be our high priest before God because he has faced the tests of life victoriously and he has endured suffering and death. Jesus has become the brother of every human being. If he is the pioneer of salvation for the human family, then he has paved the way for healing, liberation, and guidance in how to live a human life. We may feel the alienation from God, others, and even from our desire to be our best self. Jesus is the pioneer in showing us the way to communion or fellowship with God, others, and our best self.

Hebrews 4:12-16 (Year B October 9-15) focus on judgment and grace.

Verses 12-13 are a poem that makes the point that it is impossible for anything to hide itself from God and that it is impossible for anyone to deceive God with feigned loyalty. The word of God is living, a higher form of principle that continues to have meaning for in a changing world, active, having the energy or power to accomplish its task, sharper than any two-edged sword, getting to the significant portions of our thoughts and actions, piercing (not just scratching the surface but also penetrating completely through) until it divides (parts or separates) two closely related parts of humanity, soul from spirit, the vital force that animates the body and the rational part of human beings, the power of perceiving and grasping divine and eternal things, and upon which the Spirit of God exerts its influence, joints from marrow, thereby exposing us to the judgment of God. The word of God is living and enduring (I Peter 1:23) as well. The mouth of the prophet is like a sharp sword (Isa 49:2). Believers are to take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God (Eph 6:17). The point is that believers need spiritual weapons. In apocalyptic imagery, the mouth of the risen Lord has a sharp, two-edged sword that came from it (Rev 1:16). This word is is able to judge or discern and make assessment of the thoughts and intentions of the heart. The Lord reveals deep and hidden things (Daniel 2:22). The word of God is the critic, unraveling all our justifications and rationalizations for our behavior. It makes distinctions and divisions that are impossible for human beings. The word that Jesus speaks will serve as judge for those who reject him and his word (John 12:48). This metaphor illustrates the nature of the word or voice of God. One author could think of the all-powerful word leaping from the divine throne, bearing the sword of the decree of the Lord (Wisdom 18:14-16). With apocalyptic imagery, a sharp sword coming out of the mouth of the risen Lord can smite nations (Rev 19:15). The voice or word of God speaks through servants of the Lord. Moses delivered the “living oracles” of God (Acts 7:38). All are at mercy of and defenseless before this word, no one can hide from the eyes of the one to whom we must give an account of our thoughts and actions. the Lord looks down from heaven, sees humanity and observes all their deeds (Psalm 33:13-17). The eyes of the Lord examines human ways (Proverbs 5:21). The eyes of the Lord are on all their ways, for the people of the Lord cannot hide their iniquity from the divine presence (Jeremiah 16:17). No one can hide in secret places, for the Lord fills heaven and earth (Jeremiah 23:24). In the posture of listening to this word, the word permeates our inner life. God knows what I am thinking. God knows my fantasies. God knows my private likes and dislikes. God knows when I look with hidden disapproval, with jealously, sometimes even disdain, upon another person. God also knows our sadness and our disappointments, and, most important, God can peer deeply into our psychic being where we ourselves are unable to see. The difficulty of having this posture is our suspicion of the speaker. The preacher or teacher may have some views we do not like, but in this moment, may speak a word we need to hear, but we close our minds. If the speaker is the biblical text, we are aware of historical inaccuracies, scientific errors, theological differences at various stages of biblical history, and differences with modern values like the role of women and slavery. As listeners, we can put ourselves in judgment of the speaker or the text. However, human beings are in an unpleasant predicament. They can hide neither sinful thoughts nor deeds. They stand under divine judgment. They have an account, a responsibility, which they owe to the divine judge. One has no right to make the free grace of God a comfortable grace. This word challenges our perspective on the human project being nothing other than self-fulfillment.[23]

Verses 14-16 shifts to a focus on grace and Jesus as the high priest. It repeats the point in 2:17-18. The section 4:14-7:28 becomes a midrash on Psa 110:4. The accountability human beings have before God leads the author to reflect upon an analogy with the highest office in Judaism, the high priest, but this high priest, Jesus, one who has the title kings of Israel, Son of God, has passed through the heavens like the smoke of sacrifice piercing the heavens, or, alternatively, referring to the ascension. Having such a high priest, he exhorts the readers to persist in living out their confession of faith, to hang on, and to never give up. What follows runs the risk of dissolving Christology into a reflection on the moral perfection of Jesus, [24] a temptation to which Schleiermacher succumbed. However, the point is an important one. This high priest sympathizes with our weaknesses, being in the likeness of sinful flesh (Rom 8:3), for this high priest has been tested as we are, although this high priest is without sin, knowing no sin (I Cor 5:21), committing no sin nor being a deceitful person (I Pet 2:22), whose listeners could not convict of any sin (John 3:45), in whom was no sin (I John 3:5), thereby overcoming the temptations of life and passing the tests of life. He exhibited reverent submission and learned obedience through what he suffered (5:7-9). For all these reasons, the Father listens to the Son, who intercedes for us even now. Given these spiritual realities, rather than the judgment of verses 12-13, we can approach the throne of grace by saying everything freely, receiving mercy and finding grace to help in time of need.

Hebrews 5:1-10 (Year B October 16-22) introduces the introduction to 5:1—10:39, in which the author introduces Jesus as high priest. The author has organized the section well, showing Jesus to be the one who meets the qualifications of being high priest. These verses display a tight unity. The author intends to first show that although Jesus is not of Levitical descent, he was indeed a high priest, one like us, who bears out infirmities, weaknesses, and petitions before God.

The theme of Hebrews 5:1-10 is that God appointed Jesus and Jesus perfected that appointment through obedience. The work and calling of the high priest provide a background against which the author develops the notion of the high priesthood of Christ. First, Christ is not a self-appointed priest, but the one designated by God. Second, Christ has fully identified with human weaknesses. Third, the high priest becomes the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him. Jesus becomes a model for the readers.

Every high priest is chosen from among human beings to offer gifts of thanksgiving as well as the sin offering and the guilt offering, recounted in Lev 1 (burnt offerings), 4 (sin offering for the priests, Israel, king, and the rest of the people), and 9 (inauguration of the priesthood of Aaron). The focus is on expiation for sin, both transgression of known commandments and of unintentional transgression. The use of blood purifies the worship area and the people. He offers a textbook definition of what a high priest does. Atonement in Leviticus is possible only when the realization of wrongdoing and the feeling of guilt move the offender to remorse and to an active desire to rid the sanctuary of the resulting contamination. Forgiveness is not a grace for which to be hoped, but the promised result of the completed process of atonement. The Lord forgives the worshipers and places the relationship back together. The Lord wipes the slate clean. The Lord remains present to give life to the community and stability to the order of the community. Priests understand the ignorance and waywardness of the people that call for sacrifices, since he is himself subject to weakness, for which the sacrificial laws provided sacrifices for the high priest as well (Lev 4:3-12). On the Day of Atonement, the priest offers a sacrifice for himself and his family and then offers a sacrifice for the people (Lev 9:7, 16:6). Priests are in solidarity with the rest of the community before God. The priest shares in the general weakness of the people of God. Thus, Jesus knows the human condition since he lived it. Here is a reminder of the significance of the Incarnation. God is not simply “wholly other.” God embraces the human condition as the Son became fully human in Jesus of Nazareth. No one self-designates to be high priest, but rather, God calls to the position, calling Aaron and his sons, Nadab, Abihu, Eleazar, and Ithamar, from among the people of Israel to serve God as priests (Exodus 28:1). Thus, they did not acquire the priesthood by achievement, but by divine appointment. The author will make the connection with Aaron rather than Moses, which in this part of the book will receive full development.

The offices of priest and king were originally separate, but when it was clear that there would be no return of a Davidic king, during the Hellenistic period, the office of priesthood and secular ruler became identified. This was especially true during the Hasmonean period. As this author explains it, Christ did not glorify himself by becoming a high priest. God appointed him, referring to Psa 2:7, to which he referred in Heb 1:5 as well, where God refers to Christ as the divine Son, whom today God has begotten him as Son. Since God appoints high priests, God has appointed Christ. In the background of this discussion may be a sharp distinction between the failure of Adam to the tests of his life and the successful passing of the tests life presented Jesus. The author declares this quote is from God speaking to Jesus about his sonship. Luke will use it to refer to the baptism of Jesus, while this author uses it to refer to the installation of Jesus as high priest. In Hebrews 1:5, the citation illustrates that Jesus is higher than the angels are, for God never called an angel, Son. Historically, the psalm was part of the ritual sung at the coronation of an Israelite king. However, early Christians interpret it as messianic in describing the status of Jesus as Son, which is how the author of Hebrews uses it. [25] The author utilizes the quote here to say that the same God, who designated Jesus as Son, has now also appointed him as high priest. Some scholars believe that a noticeable shift occurs in chapter 5 because until chapter 5 the author has concentrated primarily on presenting Christ as Son. Yet from 5:6 onward, the author changes the focus to Christ’s priesthood.^{^[26]} The author then shifts to Psa 110:4 that you are a priest forever in accord to the order of Melchizedek, describing the priesthood of Christ. We as readers overhear the pronouncement by God to the Christ of his eternal priesthood. He was a king-priest who does not come from a Levitical genealogy and whose office as priest does not end. [27] Only the fact that he is Son qualifies Christ to be high priest for us all.

Jesus has the necessary qualifications for high priest. The first connection and evidence of the priestly activity of Christ is that of the prayers of Jesus as he faced death bear the marks of loud cries and tears. Jesus cried and God heard him. The author promises nothing more nor less for us as well. God heard his prayer because of his reverent submission. Psa 116:1-8 has the poet speaking of his love for the Lord, who heard his cry for mercy, even as the cords of death entangled him, and the anguish of the grave overcame him. He called upon the Lord to save him. He invites his soul to return to its rest, for the Lord has been good, delivering him from death, his eyes from tears, and his feet from stumbling. All of this is in order that he may walk before the Lord in the land of the living. None of this similarity with the Psalm diminishes the obvious allusion to Gethsemane. God heard him because Jesus offered to God respect and devotion. The author is aware of the tradition regarding the prayer of Jesus in Gethsemane, which was a prayer of total submission to the will of the Father. We can see this connection in the presentation by Matthew. Jesus throws himself on the ground and prays that his Father, if possible, will let the cup pass from him. Yet, he submits to whatever the Father wants (Matt 26:39). He submits to drinking the cup so that he will do the will of the Father (Matt 26:42). This language illustrates the humanity of Jesus in that he was and is able to sympathize and intercede for those suffering. The author said earlier that we have a high priest who is touched by the feelings of our infirmities (Heb 4:15). While the author does not explicitly tell us what Jesus requested in his prayers and supplications, the language suggests the agony of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane and his cries for deliverance from death. He experienced distress and agitation and admits his grief. He prays for the passing of this hour, as he faces death. Yet, he also wants the will of the Father. The hour has come for his betrayal to death (Mark 14:32-43). In a passage of questionable authenticity, but part of the tradition, an angel came to Jesus and gave him strength. His prayer had profound anguish, so much so that he sweat looked like great drops of blood fall to the ground (Luke 22:40, 43-44). He felt deeply his troubled soul. Yet should he ask the Father to save him from this hour? No, for this hour of his death is the reason the Father sent him (John 12:27). Yet, the one who could save him from death instead delivered him out of death by resurrection. It was not the purpose of God to save Jesus from dying.^{^[28]} Thus, God heard the prayer of Jesus in that God delivered him from death through resurrection (5:7).

The author shifts again in associating Jesus with the suffering servant of II Isaiah. As the Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered. Human beings learn about themselves and life through what they experience, a process that includes suffering. Jesus lived with the fallen condition of humanity. He lived and bore it as the Son. Yes, he wrestled with the fallen condition of his humanity, learning, and struggling, yet, as the Son, God had to win in his life choices. In that sense, Jesus struggled as we all do to do the will of God. The Son is one with us all in that struggled. Yet, he made his life choices perfectly.^{^[29]} Christ maintained his perfection in freedom in a way that was not by any means self-evident. In his acts, he was without sin. He was perfectly obedient.^{^[30]} The statement that Jesus learned obedience seems to contradict his earlier statement in 4:15 in which he says Jesus sinless. Yet, most of us must admit that our best learning about life often comes through the greatest difficulties we have faced. Thus, one practices authentic obedience in particular situations. Jesus demonstrated obedience as life placed him situations in which doing the will of God and obedience confronted challenges from the people and institutions around him. Jesus was never disobedient to the will of God. He had unfailing constancy in obedience to the will of God. Yet, Jesus encountered new situations that challenged his faithfulness to God.^{^[31]} Here the author holds Jesus up as a model for his audience and helps them see their own plight differently. Jesus reached a new level in the experience of obedience, fulfilling the plan of God through his death. Thus, Paul could say that the Son humbled himself, becoming obedient to the people of death upon a cross (Phil 2:8). In John, Jesus sanctifies himself so that God may sanctify his followers in truth (John 17:19). Life in this world tests the followers of Jesus, in a way that God will bring them to glory as well (2:10), and just as God brought Jesus out of suffering to glory, God will likewise bring them out of suffering to glory, too. Jesus reached the goal or destiny of his life as high priest. Only Jesus reached a place of completion of his life as he lived in obedience to the Father. All human beings fail the various tests of life, except Jesus. Perfection for Christ means that he has “successfully completed the human experience” and God exalted him to glory.^{^[32]} The perfecting of Christ means that he can now be the Savior and high priest for all who obey him.

This passage has become important in dealing with the difficult modern task of the development of Christology in the New Testament. Jesus accepted the consequences of obedience to the mission God gave him. Only in his completed life is he the Son, for his suffering perfect him as the Son. He learned obedience in the school of suffering, which should remind us of the Gethsemane prayer. One must not limit the notion of Incarnation to his birth. If other things did not happen, such as his baptism, his proclamation of the rule of God, the path of suffering, and his resurrection, he would not be the Son. The statement gives expression to the tension between learning obedience in time to be the eternal Son. The status of sonship and obedience to the Father go together. Obedient subordination to the Father characterizes Jesus as the Son. Further, obedience by Jesus finds expression in the ministry of Jesus to others by bringing to them the salvation of the reign of God, as well as his self-offering of Jesus as a sacrifice to the Father.^{^[33]} The suffering of Jesus is not a destiny that causes the one afflicted by it to grow and mature. When the Son suffers, God has willed it, because it seemed right to God. These few words embrace the whole path of the Son. They state that Jesus honors God as his Father, entrusts himself to God, confident that God will give him the office and dignity that God wills.

The segment closes with a reiteration of Christ's eternal priesthood in the order of Melchizedek. Qumran identifies the Messiah with Melchizedek. The author is presenting an affirmation of faith, as Christ became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him. The emphasis is on the humanity of Christ. A priest must be human since he represents human beings. He must share their sufferings since he must feel compassion for them. Jesus suffered in this way all through his life on earth, and especially in his agony and death. Just as Christ learned through obedience, obedience becomes a central element for those who follow him. Melchizedek compares the eternality of Christ’s priesthood to that of Melchizedek who is “without father, without mother, without genealogy, neither having beginning of days nor end of life” (Hebrews 7:3). It is important to remember that this statement is about Melchizedek’s priesthood, not his actual person and that the author of Hebrews is engaging in an interpretation of Genesis 14, not the historical person Melchizedek.^{^[34]} The Genesis text is silent about Melchizedek’s parentage, priestly origins, birth and death. The absence of information about Melchizedek in these matters permit the author of Hebrews to engage in a Jewish exegetical technique called non in thora non in mundo (literally, “If it is not in the law, it does not exist.”) which means if the text is silent about something, then it could be considered nonexistent. Thus, the silence presents an opportunity for the author to interpret Christ’s priesthood as one that is “after the order” of Melchizedek – Jesus is a priest who has no “priestly lineage, no point at which he takes over from another priest or surrenders his office to someone who will succeed him.^{^[35]} More importantly, a priest after the order of Melchizedek does not die since Genesis does not narrate the death of Melchizedek. Thus, the narrative of Melchizedek provides an interpretive frame for Christ. Christ, like Melchizedek, has no Levitical lineage. Christ is eternal and, therefore, so is his priestly service, forever interceding for believers (7:24). According to the author, God uses Scripture to foreshadow Christ.^{^[36]}

Hebrews 7:23-28 (Year B October 23-29) expresses a theme of Jesus as the perfect high priest, completing the theme begun in verse 1 that Melchizedek is greater than the Levites. It was not difficult for an ancient age to reflect upon the notion of priesthood and sacrifices. Both were part of their daily life. Priests had the task of offering sacrifices regularly to God as part of the worship of the people. They had a special sacrifice for the sins they had committed. The places where these sacrifices occurred must have been bloody places. It cannot have been pleasant. It was costly to those who brought their sacrifice, for they brought the best of their flock or herd. The language of sacrifice was not technical theological terminology in the ancient world but came from day-to-day experience. None of the language of Hebrews would have seemed odd to people who were accustomed to seeing sacrifices performed in the Jerusalem temple every day.^{^[37]} In the Christian notion, Jesus has become priest forever. He does not have to offer any sacrifices, for he was himself the one necessary sacrifice. Such a sacrifice is an expression of love. God has taken within the being of God, the violence, bloodiness, and costliness, of forgiveness and sacrifice.

This text begins by offering the contrast Jesus is one person while the Levites are many. The only way the high priests of old could claim to be a continuing intervening presence for the people was through the normal cycles of successive generations. According to Jewish historian Josephus, by the time of the fall of the Second Temple in A.D. 70, there had been 83 high priests since Aaron. Jesus permanently continues his priesthood permanently, for the one and eternal saving act of Jesus persists for all persons and all time. Jesus is eternally available as the personal intercessory for a sinful humanity seeking God. Jesus is the perfect mediator because Jesus combines divinity and humanity into one. Since the priesthood of Jesus is unending, he can unendingly save and make intercession. Jesus speaks out on our behalf before God. The author’s exalted vision enthrones Jesus as both a high priest and a king – one who sits at God’s right hand and asks what he will of his heavenly Father. The Father never denies the Son’s requests or petitions. Along the theme of intercession by the risen Christ and by the Spirit, we have other examples in the New Testament. Paul could say that the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accord with the will of God, and that the risen Christ is at the right hand of God, interceding for us (Romans 8:27-34). John could say that if we sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous (I John 2:1). Thus, the reconciling work of the Savior covers, not just his sacrificial death, but also the earthly course of his witness to the imminence of divine rule and the work of the exalted Christ, especially his intercession for believers with his sacrificial death on the cross.^{^[38]} This new priesthood is better than the old priesthood because, by definition, Jesus the high priest himself is better. Jesus is unique in his sinlessness and his exalted position at the right hand of God. Paul could express a similar thought in stating that God made Christ to be sin, even though Christ knew no sin, so that in Christ, we might have righteousness before God (II Corinthians 5:21). Because Jesus suffered all human trials and temptations and yet remained obedient, because he experienced genuine temptation but did not yield to it, Jesus is “fitting” and “does indeed fit our condition” (NEB). Jesus is the highest “high priest,” in a class by himself, because he lived a human life yet through obedience remained “separated from sinners.” The high priest offered such sacrifices only on the Day of Atonement for his own sins. Aaron was to offer the bull as a sin offering for himself and his house (Leviticus 16:16). He would then offer two goats for the sins of the nation. In my visit to Israel, the tour guide noted that the Temple Mount area would have been a bloody place. The priests were to offer the sacrifice of a bull every day as a sin offering for atonement, and even a sin offering for the altar that will consist of two one year old lambs (Exodus 29:36-42). Imagine thousands of people bringing sheep and goats to the temple area. Imagine the struggle of the animal. Imagine the priest slitting the throat of the animal. Imagine the blood spilling pouring out on the rock upon which priests made the sacrifice. This was a violent and bloody place. It cannot have been pleasant. This language is a reminder that the suffering servant made his life an offering for sin (Isa 53:10). The Son of Man came to give his life a ransom for all (Mark 10:45). Jesus offered his life as a sacrifice for others. Paul expresses a similar thought when he says that in the death of Christ, he died to sin, once for all people (Rom 6:10). He suffered for sins once but for all persons, the righteous one for us who are unrighteous, to bring us to God (I Peter 3:18). Further, thinking of the death of Jesus as an offering, Christ gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God (Eph 5:2). In this sense, the sacrifice of Jesus is different from all others in the Old Testament, since the people and the priests had to repeat such sacrifices. For this author, that means the sacrifices were unable to save anyone. Thus, the unique sacrifice of Jesus is the culmination of salvation-history. Yes, the Father has set times and periods of history (Acts 1:7), Jesus closing a lengthy period of preparation. Christ ends the Law in order that righteousness would become open to all who believe (Rom 10:4). The Son offers himself for the reconciliation of the world. In this passage, we can speak of the saving work of Christ only as Christ offered himself as the high priest who makes atonement for the sins of the people.^{^[39]} The human condition of the high priest subjects him to weakness, but the word of the oath linked to the priest-king Melchizedek (7:15-17), referring to a new and perpetual priesthood replacing the old, appoints a Son who has been made perfect forever. The contrast is between what was only temporary, the law, with what is permanent, the high priest who is the Son who fulfills the plan of the Father. The story of Melchizedek is in Genesis 14:17-20. Melchizedek was a unique individual because, among his other traits, nowhere in Scripture is there the mention of his death. Old Testament tradition teaches that Melchizedek, in fact, did not die, and so remained forever a priest. Jesus, the perfect Son, thus becomes the fulfillment of God’s promise for a new, eternal priesthood. He himself is both perfect and the perfect intercessory agent to obtain God’s forgiveness for our sins and restore us to a right relationship with the Divine.

In Christ, what we need has taken place. We could not bring it about for ourselves. Our reconciliation, our peace with God, our access to God, our freedom for God, and therefore the basic alteration of our human situation, is what the priestly office of Christ accomplishes. The perfection of the sacrifice of Jesus Christ is the perfection of the love with which God has loved us. In making this sacrifice, God loved us in perfect love. Barth may go too far in saying that the only good thing that one can report of us is that God made this perfect sacrifice in our place and for us. Without this perfect action of God, we would be lost.^{^[40]}

Forgiving serves to undo the deeds of the past, whose “ sins ” hang like Damocles’ sword over every new generation.

The wearisome sequence of revenge for past wrongs that only provokes further revenge is a chain people can break only through forgiveness. Without being forgiven, released from the consequences of what we have done, our capacity to act would, as it were, be confined to one single deed from which we could never recover. We would remain the victims of its consequences forever. Yet, a path needs to become open human relationships that says that what is done is not always done, the broken can be fixed, that the ravaged can be restored. That you can have another swing, that you can wife the slate clean, and you can go back to square one. Forgiveness is costly primarily to the one who forgives. The one who forgives gives up the right to justice or revenge and chooses mercy. Anyone who has truly forgiven another knows what this means. Respect for the person is sufficient to prompt forgiveness for the sake of the person. To think that we owe respect only where we admire or esteem the person constitutes a clear symptom of the increasing depersonalization of public and social life.

This author emphasizes the importance of sacrifices in the Temple at Jerusalem as a pattern for restoring humanity to a new relationship with God. For him, love and forgiveness involve sacrifice. In the Christian notion, Jesus has become priest forever. He does not have to offer any sacrifices, for he was himself the one necessary sacrifice. Such a sacrifice is an expression of love. God has taken within the being of God, the violence, bloodiness, and costliness, of forgiveness and sacrifice.

First, the nature of love is that it suffers. When a spouse goes through a challenging time one suffers with them. If you are a parent, and children hurt in any way, even if it is through their own choices, you suffer for them. You may have to practice some tough love, withdrawing some forms of love for the moment, but with the hope that healing will come to your relationship. Love and forgiveness are costly in that they open us to the risk of suffering for others. Love calls the lover to suffer with the beloved in their adversities and pain. The only way to avoid such suffering love is to stop loving.

Second, God has done something difficult to imagine. God has seen the disordered and fractured lives of human beings, the failed relationships of love and justice in human community, and has loved us enough to suffer the hatred, cruelty, and injustice of the cross. Love and forgiveness are indeed costly. We need to remember, however, that forgiveness is primarily costly for the one who forgives. The one who forgives gives up certain rights. In one sense, God could be angry with us forever. We have misused and abused the wonderful gifts of independence and freedom that God gave us. In another sense, God could not do that, for you see, the word that defines God is love. The one who forgives bears the cost of restoring the relationship and refuses to hold anything against the one forgiven, even though one has every reason to do so. Such love is costly on the part of the one who loves and forgives. Love so amazing, so divine, opens us to the possibility of reconciliation with God and with each other. Our text says that Jesus went all the way to the cross, “once for all when he offered himself” (v. 27). Complete cleansing, you see, calls for nothing less than a cross.

Third, we, too, need to pick up a cross to heal the wounds in our lives. Cher has it right in the lyrics of her song, “If I Could Turn Back Time.”

If I could turn back time

If I could find a way

I’d take back those words that hurt you and you’d stay

I don’t know why I did the things I did

I don’t know why I said the things I said

Love’s like a knife it can cut deep inside

Words are like weapons they wound sometimes.

Most of us have had done or said something we wish we had not. Yet, we cannot turn back time. We have two directions that we could go that will become burdens to living a full life and abundant life. Guilt is our way of looking at things we have done in our past and beat ourselves down with it. It becomes a burden that eats away at our souls. The other direction we can go is just as destructive. Resentment and revenge are our ways of holding something against others for what they have done or said to us. It will also eat away at your soul. In both cases, we are in bondage and in desperate need of liberation and healing. The foundation for this healing and liberation is in the cross.

Hebrews 9:11-14 (Year B October 30-November 5) is part of a discussion of Jesus as high priest (5:1-10:39), and part of a contrast the author draws between and new worship (8-9), comparing the sacrifice and cleansing offered by Christ to the earthly system practiced in the Temple. The notion of type and antitype may reflect the idea of Platonic forms. Plato had theorized the existence of two worlds: a material world (the world of becoming) and a non-material world (the world of being). In this system of thought, the only objects that are perceptible to humanity are those in the material world of becoming which only poorly mirror their true corresponding forms in the non-material world. Although the design of the Mosaic tabernacle was to serve as a dwelling place for the divine presence on Earth, the author of Hebrews suggests in 9:24 that the true presence of God is not on Earth but in heaven. Thus, Christ transcends the realm of the earthly to enter the heavenly realm in the role of a true high priest. The author continues his theological and philosophical assault on the Jewish priestly tradition by presenting Jesus as the high priest. Everything that comes from the Jewish tradition, be it the tent that covered the ark, or the Holy of Holies in the innermost part of the Temple in Jerusalem, is trumped by the perfection of Jesus Christ and his blood sacrifice. The author describes the new sacrifice of Christ. Its contrast is with 9:1-10, describing Temple functions of the holy place, the holy of holies, the Ark of the Covenant, winged creatures, rules of outward life, and bodily purity. In contrast, Christ offered himself and purity is a matter of conscience. “Christ” forms a textual inclusion in verses 11 and 14.

The author makes the point that the ceremony of expiation, mentioned in verse 7 and based on Lev 16, where the high priest offered the bloody sacrifice of goats and calves, Jesus has replaced with his own blood, a superior sacrifice, given his position as Son and his obedience to the Father, thereby obtaining eternal redemption. He refers to the limited and external cleansing under the old covenant that was brought to those who defiled themselves through the blood of goats and bulls (Lev 16:15-16) and with the sprinkling of the ashes of a heifer (Num 19:9, 7-9). The offering of atonement is a recurring event, so there can be no final resolution. The author grants the historical efficacy of the sacrificial tradition of the Old Testament and current Jewish practice. Such practices purify the sinner. The problem of that system is that it has no finality to it. Why would anyone want to be in the incomplete sacrificial system when Christ has made the perfect and final sacrifice? Thus, if the limited, weak sacrificial system practiced in the Temple could cleanse people, how much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Holy Spirit offered himself without blemish or sin to God, purifying our conscience from dead works to worship the living God. First, his emphasis upon the agency of the Spirit in the life of Jesus is consistent with Luke 4:18-19 stressing that the Spirit of the Lord is upon him. The Spirit of God’s presence in humanity is the emphasis. He did not have the power of an indestructible life in himself, but in fellowship with God.^{^[41]} Second, Christ in the power of the Spirit offered himself, a life without blemish or sin, to the Father. Third, the offering of this sacrifice of his life has the purpose of purifying our conscience from dead works to worship the living God. The offering of this sacrifice takes away our sin. [42]

Hebrews 9:24-28 (Year B November 6-12) explores the new heavenly ministry of Christ, which is in heaven in the presence of God, offering himself only once. The author began a comparison between Christ and other high priests several chapters previous at the conclusion of chapter 4 (vv. 14-16). By chapter 9, he has shown that they are all called by God (5:4-6), yet they were called to two different priestly orders. God called Jesus to the order of Melchizedek, and God called all other priests to the order of Levi. From these two different orders, critical differences spring. These critical differences lead to the realization of two different covenants, an old and a new (8:6, 13). The new heavenly ministry is a contrast to the old way of earthly ministry in 8:1-6 in which priests made offerings. The purpose of 8:1-9:28 is to show that Jesus is superior to old covenant worship. At this point in the sermon-letter, the author is in the thick of his argument about the relationship of Christ’s work to Israel’s sacrificial system. These verses reiterate several key features that make Christ’s priesthood superior to all others by describing his past, present, and future activity as the mediator of the author and his audience.

In chapter 9, the author turns his attention to the sacred spaces of the two covenants. He describes the articles present in the first tent (vv. 2-5), the activity that takes place in the inner tent once a year (vv. 6-7), and the results of the activities that take place in that tent (vv. 9-10). In contrast, Christ serves in a different tent with his own blood with different results (vv. 11-14). Because of this, he is mediator of the new covenant, which, like the first covenant, he ratified with blood (vv. 15-18).

This leads into another comparison where the author recounts the events of Exodus 24. There, Moses proclaimed God’s covenant to the people of Israel, and upon their verbal agreement to it, sealed the covenant by sprinkling blood on the people. The author of Hebrews moves past this event to remind readers that the sprinkling of blood continued when the tent was erected and the vessels of service were created (v. 21). For him, this shows the importance of blood — that it nearly results in the forgiveness of sins by itself (v. 22). Therefore, it makes sense in this view of the world that if the earthly tent and implements were cleansed with the blood of animals, the heavenly correspondents should also be cleansed with sacrifices, albeit better ones (v. 23). It seems problematic that things in heaven would need cleansing. Although the problems with this verse are not avoidable, it might be helpful to think of the “things” mentioned here as including the people. Just as the people who made a covenant with God on earth became clean with blood, so, too, the people who now reside on his heavenly mountain and make a covenant with God are also cleansed with blood (12:22, 24). The necessity of this heavenly cleansing provides the motivation for the author’s retelling of Jesus’ priestly act in the heavenly tabernacle.

Repeating 9:11, this text opens with observing that Christ did not enter a sanctuary made by human hands, a copy or antitype of the true sanctuary, one God has built, a favorite image for this author (Hebrews 1:2; 2:10; 3:4; 11:10, 16). Entering heaven, which contained the pattern God showed Moses (Hebrews 8:5). This is one of the strongest examples of the Platonic influences upon the author. The true form resides in heaven, and that which exists on earth is only the copy. Plato had theorized the existence of two worlds: a material world (the world of becoming) and a non-material world (the world of being). In this system of thought, the only objects that are perceptible to humanity are those in the material world of becoming, which only poorly mirror their true corresponding forms in the non-material world. Christ transcends the realm of the earthly to enter the heavenly realm in the role of a true high priest. Entering heaven, Christ appears in the presence of God on behalf of human beings, alluding to his role as eternal intercessor (7:25). Christ proceeded past the outer tent into the presence of God.

The author will now offer key differences between Christ and Jewish high priests. As early as 2:17, the author describes Christ as a high priest, and he reiterates this characterization frequently throughout the book (e.g., 3:1; 4:14−5:10; 6:20; 7:26-28). While he does not use the term “high priest” (ἀρχιερεὺς) in this passage, the imagery of a priest and priestly duties is difficult to miss. While he envisions Christ as serving a priestly role, the author is careful to be clear that the duties of this priesthood are markedly different from those of the Temple priests. He may envision the relationship like the Platonic notion of forms where one would see Christ’s sacrifice as the form that all other cultic sacrifices can only attempt to emulate.

First, Christ’s offering is singular, whereas the offering of the other high priests takes place on a yearly basis. He does not offer a sacrifice repeatedly, as did the high priest entering the Holy Place with blood not his own, using a reductio ad absurdum argument that he would have to suffer repeatedly from the foundation of the world. Trapping Christ in a constant cycle of suffering makes us aware of the absurdity of the idea. His suffering, his offering of himself, has taken place at the culmination of the ages. The connection between Christ and the foundation of the world appears across an impressively diverse swath of New Testament texts: John 17:24, Ephesians 1:4, 1 Peter 1:20 and Revelation 13:8, among others. The pervasiveness of this connection suggests that Hebrews may draw upon a common tradition that upheld the preexistence of Christ.

Second, Christ offers himself, whereas the other priests bring in the blood of another. His appearance once for all a the end of the age is to remove sin, as Jer 31:34 (Heb 8:12) prophesied the forgiveness of sin, as he sacrificed himself. Thus, the author is bringing the apocalyptic emphasis of early Christianity into his teaching. The action of God in Christ is a sign of the last days. God has appointed one death for mortals (Heb 3:4, 6:16, 7:7), based upon the creation account (Gen 3:19). Rejecting any notion of reincarnation, the author argues that Christ’s offering is similarly unique. The author also stresses the humanity of Christ, even in a passage that emphasizes the pre-existence of Christ. He then stresses that after death comes judgment, which indicates that death itself is not judgment. God has offered Christ once to bear the sins of all, but will appear a second time, not to deal with sin, but to ave those who eagerly wait for the return of Christ. The shared root between “offered” and “bear” may serve to highlight the close relationship between Christ’s dual role as both high priest and sacrificial victim. Isaiah 53:12 says the suffering servant dies among sinners while bearing the sins of “many,” clearly meaning “all,” and intercedes in prayer for the transgressors. The Son of Man came to give his life as a ransom for many, clearly meaning all (Mark 10:45). The obedience of one man, Jesus, will make “the many” righteous, clearly meaning all (Romans 5:18-19). This is another instance of a consistent theological and Christological approach to the offering of Christ.

The Son offers himself for the reconciliation of the world. In this passage, we can speak of the saving work of Christ only as Christ offered himself as the high priest who makes atonement for the sins of the people. Such statements anticipate the actual process of setting aside the sins of humanity. True, the author stresses the definitiveness of the sacrificial death of Jesus in verse 26, but also the ongoing intercession of the risen Lord before God in verse 24. The reconciling office of Christ extends beyond the crucifixion.^{^[43]} Thus, having sketched out Christ’s work in the past (the offering of himself) and the present (his appearance before the face of God on people’s behalf), this chapter closes with this letter’s sole reference to the second coming of Christ. In this future work, Christ will appear to those who eagerly await him bringing salvation. Salvation is what the audience is looking forward to as their inheritance from God (1:14). The return of Christ will reap the benefit of work already accomplished.

The author makes clear the benefits of aligning themselves with this priest. Only Christ presented an offering that can remove their sins. Only Christ intercedes for them in the presence of God. Only Christ will appear again, having defeated death (2:14) and bring their long-awaited salvation.

The author links the offering of Christ directly to both dealing with sin and addressing the need for final salvation, a consistent theme in the New Testament.

For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do: by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and to deal with sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, (Romans 8:3)

For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. (II Corinthians 5:21)

so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord, and that he may send the Messiah appointed for you, that is, Jesus, who must remain in heaven until the time of universal restoration that God announced long ago through his holy prophets. (Acts 3:20-21)

But our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. He will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his glory, by the power that also enables him to make all things subject to himself. (Philippians 3:20-21)

I charge you to keep the commandment without spot or blame until the manifestation of our Lord Jesus Christ, (I Timothy 6:13-14)

From the time of Moses onward, Israel had observed a special ritual once a year called Yom Kippur or the Day of Atonement. While people were to repent and offer sacrifices for their personal sins individually throughout the year, the Day of Atonement was a special time of repentance when the whole community sought to return to a right relationship with God. In the wilderness, the centerpiece of Israel’s worship was the tabernacle, a portable worship center. Later, when the Israelites established themselves in Canaan, they replaced the tabernacle by the temple, but both structures had their basis on the same layout. At the very center of these structures were two rooms, separated by a curtain. They called the first of these rooms the Holy Place, and the Law allowed only the priests in there to perform certain religious duties.

The second room, which one could enter only through the first, was the Holy of Holies. It contained the Ark of the Covenant, which represented the very presence of God. Only the high priest was permitted in there, and he only once a year, on the Day of Atonement, to seek the clearing away of the people’s sins.

However, because the high priest himself was not sinless, he first had to go through a complex ritual where he offered a blood sacrifice of a bull for his own sins and the sins of the priesthood. Then he could finally offer the sacrifice of a goat for the transgressions of the people as a whole.

All that ritual, along with other observances and the keeping of the Mosaic Law, the people of God understood to be the way that Israel were to live by the covenant God had made with the people. As Jews understood it that was how they pleased God.

Notice the concern they had for sin and its remedy in forgiveness.

If we are going to engage in redemptive behavior in dealing the unexpected consequences of human action, forgiveness will be essential as it serves to undo the deeds of the past, whose sins hang like Damocles’ sword over every new generation. Without being forgiven, released from the consequences of what we have done, our capacity to act would, as it were, be confined to one single deed from which we could never recover; we would remain the victims of its consequences forever.

One who acts never quite knows what one is doing, and thus everyone becomes guilty of consequences they never intended or even foresaw, that no matter how disastrous and unexpected the consequences of one’s deed one can never undo it, that the process one starts is never consummated unequivocally in one single deed or event, and that its very meaning never discloses itself to the actor but only to the backward glance of the historian who does not act. All this is reason enough to turn away with despair from the realm of human affairs and to hold in contempt the human capacity for freedom, which, by producing the web of human relationships, seems to entangle its producer to such an extent that one appears much more the victim and the sufferer than the author and doer of what one has done. To condemn action, the spontaneous beginning of something new, because its results fall into a predetermined net of relationships, invariably dragging the agent with them, who forfeits one’s freedom the very moment one makes use of it. The possible redemption from the predicament of irreversibility — of being unable to undo what one has done though one did not, and could not, have known what he was doing — is the faculty of forgiving.

God continues to take sin seriously. The remedy for sin, the death of Christ, will not allow our sin to overwhelm us. We rightly agonize over our sin. Yet, our sin rests upon Christ. No matter what we have done, the grace of Christ is greater.

Hebrews 10:11-25 (Year B November 13-19) concludes the doctrinal section of the letter and begins the ethical exhortation portion of the letter.

Verses 11-18 is the conclusion of a doctrinal argument that began in 7:1 by stressing a single offering for all time. Jesus is true High Priest and belongs to a superior priesthood, offers effective forgiveness, and introduces a superior covenant. A son of David theology is not present. The author comes back to Psalm 110:1, which has been on his mind throughout the doctrinal section.

The theology of the book becomes an extension or fulfillment of the earlier promises of God. He offers several reasons for arguing that the service of former high priests find fulfillment in the service of Jesus as high priest. The priests of such ancient times stood to offer sacrifices. In the Sanctuary, one can find the altar of incense, the table, the lap, the ark – but no chair. Standing priests always served God. They stood at the earthly throne, or footstool, of God; they stood, not merely as a mark of respect, but as a sign that they had an unfinished task. After the death of Jesus on the cross has done away with the need for such sacrifices, he completed the need for either a sacrifice or a priest. For this reason, the imagery or metaphor of the New Testament is that the Son “sits” to the right of the Father. Jesus’ exaltation to the right hand of God, to which Peter refers in Acts 2:33, is a fulfillment of Psalm 110:1 (but see 1:3, 13, 8:1, 12:2), shows that the priesthood of Christ surpasses that of earthly priests. Therefore, he took the seat of honor beside the Father. The Old Testament emphasis upon the Temple, priest, and sacrifice find fulfillment in Jesus. The cross sanctifies human beings, a different way of saying that Jesus sanctified himself so that the truth may sanctify his followers (John 17:19). the sacrifice of Christ brings a sanctification or holiness for the believer. His sacrifice brings forgiveness of sin and cleansing of conscience. Such sanctification or holiness is not a present possession, obviously, since we must still resist sin and submit to discipline (12:4, 7, 9). The work of the cross is complete, and thus no one should doubt the continuing value and effectiveness of the cross. However, since history continues, it will take time for the effects of the cross to work themselves out in the lives of people. In that sense, the work of the cross is provisional, awaiting the fulfillment of its effects in the future. Christ is in eager expectation, in the words of Psa 110:1, for enemies to be made a footstool for his feet.

The aim of the ancient system of Temple, sacrifice, and priest is the forgiveness of sin. He uses the Septuagint version of the Old Testament, which fits well with the Greek philosophical affinity this author has. He is a Hellenistic Jewish-Christian. Referring to Jer 31:33-34, emphasizing that we must listen carefully to these words since the Holy Spirit testifies through them, when he wrote of the new and inward covenant the Lord promised, a transformation of the heart, the law written on the heart rather than on tablets of stone. The cross does away with the need for this ancient system. This one sacrifice, offered by this one priest, has already accomplished forgiveness of sinful of humanity. In forgiving sin, God forgets as well, remembering them no more. One of the reasons the Old Testament remains significant for Christians is that we cannot understand what the cross means apart from what Temple, sacrifice, and priest meant in Israel. Now, the newness of this covenant is that its objective is change of mind and heart. God remembers our sins no more. This new covenant is a full and final forgiveness and the entire pardon of sins. It destroys every barrier for us and enables us to realize full communion with God. There is no need for further offerings of sacrifice. God has cancelled our sin. In sum, the Holy Spirit testifies that Jesus’ priesthood surpasses that of the Old Testament because by means of his unique offering God has taken away our sins.

One way to imagine all of this is to say that each of us can have the confidence to enter the heavenly sanctuary today. We do not wait for physical building or the priesthood. What the cross accomplishes for us can have important effects in our lives. One effect is faith in what Jesus as priest and Jesus as sacrifice have accomplished in bringing about forgiveness of sin. Two is hope, even though many circumstances in our lives may cause us to waver. Three is love, both practicing it and encouraging each other to move toward love. Of course, we cannot encourage each other in faith, hope, or love if we neglect worshipping, learning, and serving together.

The cross of Jesus tells me that God has already turned toward me, and toward the world. God has already dealt with my failure, and your failure, the failure of humanity, and has turned toward us in love, grace, and forgiveness. God has already done what is necessary for us to connect. The only remaining question is whether I will receive it.

The fully formed atonement theology that is at once an adaptation of Jewish tradition and a complete divergence from it is the product of years of reflection on the relationship between the Christian church and its parent religion. One cannot doubt that Hebrews is a true child of Judaism. Only one with an extreme devotion to Israelite traditions would go to such lengths trying to explain how Christ could be both sacrificial victim and sacrificing priest. Only someone dedicated to the idea of Christ as part of the eternal pre-existent Trinity would write as if all the writings of the Old Testament were simply transcripts of the words of Jesus as the second Person of the Godhead (Hebrews 2:12-13; 10:5-8).

The author has concluded the didactic portion. The author challenges us as readers to compare the daily sacrifice performed in the temple ritual to the priesthood of Christ. Because of the sacrifice or offering of the life of Jesus for us, one no longer needs the Levitical offerings and the Law.

After upholding a unique set of Christian beliefs (1:1-10:18), the author instructs believers on how and why they are to live in the world (10:19-13:25). The doctrinal matters of Jesus being the true high priest and belonging to a superior priesthood, offering a superior sacrifice, functioning in a superior temple, offering forgiveness that is more effective, and introducing a superior covenant, are now related to ethical demands.

Verses 19-25 are an exhortation to faithfulness, based upon the preceding argument. The passage applies the previous doctrinal teaching to their own behavior. Here is one compact sentence in the Greek. He initially rehearses several themes previously discussed or alluded to in the letter, builds on the service of Jesus as “a great high priest,” and finally attempts to encourage his readers to persevere.

The exhortation begins with the author addressing his readers as friends, an address he has not used since Ch 3, he refers to their confidence (9:24-26, 10:10-12), a boldness that comes from their special status. Paul encourages believers to boast in their hope of sharing in the glory of God (Romans 5:2). God chose us to be holy and blameless before God in love (Ephesians 1:4). We have access to the Father through the Spirit (Ephesians 2:18). We have access to God in boldness and confidence through faith in Christ (Ephesians 3:12). We are holy, blameless, and irreproachable before God through the death of Christ (Colossians 1:22). This confidence allows them to enter the heavenly sanctuary (8:1-5a, 9:1, 11-12, 24) by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way, even as Jesus is the way, truth, and life (John 14:6), but in this case open up through the curtain, which the crucifixion, and thus through his flesh, tore from top to bottom (Mark 15:38). Therefore, Christ lives as the great priest over the house of God. By his flesh he provides access to the presence of God for eternity.

To say it succinctly, Jesus is both the sacrifice and the high priest. No longer do we need a priestly intermediary to represent us before God because Christ is our high priest. Since God has established the new inclusive covenant through Jesus with Jew and Gentile, and since God has forgiven sin once and for all, then human beings have no reason to continue to offer a sin-offering sacrifice. He is both victim and priest. He is both offering and officiant. No longer must we continually appease God with animal sacrifices. Christ has completed that task for us, and just as the blood of sin offerings sprinkled on the altar of sacrifice served to purify the sanctuary after each occasion of sin (Leviticus 4:7, 17-18), Christ’s blood has been “sprinkled” on us — adding a peculiarly sacrificial form of purification to that already effected for us by the waters of baptism. This fulfills the prophecy that the Lord will sprinkle clean water upon the people, cleansing them from uncleanness and idols. The Lord will give them a new spirit, removing the heart of stone and giving them a heart of flesh (Ezek 36:25-26). The believer no longer needs to worry about his or her relationship with the Almighty, because in heart and mind God has made them righteous. Hence, liturgical precision no longer shapes the spiritual energy of a believer. Rather, what shapes the believer is living in community and service. Moreover, no longer is the sanctuary a specific place of mystery, open only for the properly initiated that alone could go through the curtain into the inner sanctum. Now, every believer in whatever location enters God’s presence because of the blood sacrifice of Jesus. Jesus’ flesh becomes the curtain that is now eternally drawn. It is a matter of the heart, not of the hearth. The believer's proximity to God is actual, real, and efficacious, unlike the old way that was, to the author of Hebrews, a mere shadow of reality. Given these realities, the author therefore extends three exhortations, weaving together the will-known triad of faith, hope, and love, consistent with I Cor 13:13. As the text winds to its climactic close, practical consequences come forth from spiritual facts. First, their faith in what Christ has done releases them from the self-condemnation of an evil conscience. He refers to the symbol of Aaron and his sons washing their hands and feet before entering the Tent of Meeting (Exod 30:19-21), Moses washing Aaron and his sons (Lev 8:6), and the Lord will sprinkle clean water upon them, cleansing them from uncleanness and idols (Ezek 36:25). Paul urges readers to cleanse themselves from all defilement of body and spirit (II Cor 7:1), and Peter viewed baptism as an appeal to God for a good conscience (I Peter 3:21). In short, we have properly prepared mind and body, heart and flesh to enter the heavenly sanctuary, since God is transforming the profane into the holy. Baptism is a washing away of sin. The Jewish ritual bath of cleansing in the mikveh (bath) restored ritual cleanliness in a repeated event, but the cleansing for the Christian through baptism and through the blood of Christ is eternal and complete. Second, since he perceives his readers are wavering, he urges them to hold fast to the confession of their hope, for Christ is a faithful and merciful high priest. Third, he urges them to consider how to provoke each other to love and good deeds. They will show this love and good deeds by remaining faithful in meeting together, as is the habit of some. Even though Paul and his team experience persecution, God has not forsaken them (II Cor 4:9). Demas has deserted Paul (II Tim4:10). Everyone deserted Paul at his first defense (II Tim 4:16). He urges them to encourage each other in faith, hope, and love. He reminds them that they should do all this because the Day is approaching, Paul sharing this concern when he encourages his readers that God will strengthen them to the end, so that they may be blameless on the day of the Lord (I Cor 1:8).

Reflect upon the difference between karma and grace. What you put out comes back to you, as in “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth”, or even “as you sow, so you will reap.” You know the law of physics that for every action is an equal and opposite reaction. Karma is at the heart of the universe. It seems like grace has come along to upend all of this on the level of personal relationships. Grace upends our relationship with God. It defies reason and logic. Grace interrupts the consequences of your actions. In my case, and I suspect in your case as well, that is good news. Most of us have done plenty of stupid things, and much worse. Grace does not excuse our wrongs. Grace acknowledges in personal relationships that none of us will live our lives perfectly. We need to give and receive grace to maintain relationships that matter. In our relationship with God, grace acknowledges that we will never be religious enough. Somewhere, probably where we least expect it, we will fall short. Fortunately, we do not have to depend upon our religiosity. We know of this grace because God has offered it in Jesus Christ. Because of Christ, grace defeats religiosity and replaces it with grace.^{^[44]}

Hebrews places so much emphasis upon forgiveness of sin. It does so based upon the Old Testament sacrificial system in the First Temple and the Jewish practice in the Second Temple. I would like to ponder for a moment why giving and receiving and forgiveness is so important.

The focus of the sacrificial system was forgiveness of sin. The problem with this focus is that it is too narrow. The web of human relationships is so intricate that even when we act out of the best of intentions, our actions can negatively affect others as well as ourselves. We may not have all the evidence that we could have had. We may act too quickly. We may not act quickly enough. We may not have developed the insight necessary into ourselves, the nature of people involved, or the seriousness of this moment, to act appropriately and courageously. Human action is always open-ended and therefore ambiguous. We may be physically sick, and this causes us to act in a confused way. We may never learn of the harmful effects of our well-intentioned actions.

The point is, there are many reasons to give and receive forgiveness that do not reflect the moral implications to which sin points us. Forgiveness helps to keep us going, not allowing a past act, whether a mistake or a sin, to define us. The human condition is such that we need forgiveness, and we need to extend forgiveness far more than we realize. We must not forget that we need to direct this redemptive activity toward ourselves.

To act is to take initiative and begin.[45] It is in beginning that something new is started which cannot be expected from whatever may have happened before. In acting and speaking, people show who they are, reveal actively their unique personal identities and thus make their appearance in the human world, while their physical identities appear without any activity of their own in the unique shape of the body and sound of the voice. This revelatory quality of speech and action comes to the fore where people are with others and neither for nor against them, and thus, in sheer human togetherness. Many theories of human nature overlook the inevitability with which people disclose themselves as subjects, as distinct and unique persons, even when they concentrate upon reaching an altogether worldly, material object. The realm of human affairs consists of the web of human relationships which exists wherever men live together. The disclosure of the “who” through speech, and the setting of a new beginning through action, always fall into an already existing web where their immediate consequences can be felt.

The chief characteristic of this specifically human life, whose appearance and disappearance constitute worldly events, is that it is itself always full of events which can be told as a story, establish a biography; it is of this life, bios as distinguished from mere zōē, that Aristotle said that it “somehow is a kind of praxis.” They tell us more about their subjects, the “hero” in the center of each story, than any product of human hands ever tells us about the master who produced it. Although everybody started life by inserting oneself into the human world through action and speech, nobody is the author or producer of his or her own life story. In other words, the stories, the results of action and speech, reveal an agent, but this agent is not an author or producer. The reason is that the intricate web of human relationships involve many persons in the unfolding story of each of our lives. The contribution others make to our story is beyond our control. Somebody began it and is its subject in the twofold sense of the word, namely, its actor and sufferer, but nobody is its author. That every individual life between birth and death can eventually be told as a story with beginning and end is the remarkable story without beginning and end. But the reason each human life tells its story and why history becomes the storybook of humanity, with many actors and speakers and yet without any tangible authors, is that both are the outcome of action. The specific revelatory quality of action and speech, the implicit manifestation of the agent and speaker, is so indissolubly tied to the living flux of acting and speaking that it can be represented and “reified” only through a kind of repetition.

One who acts never quite knows what one is doing, that one always becomes guilty of consequences one never intended or even foresaw, that no matter how disastrous and unexpected the consequences of one’s deed one can never undo it, that the process one starts is never consummated unequivocally in one single deed or event, and that its very meaning never discloses itself to the actor but only to the backward glance of the historian who, paradoxically, does not act. All this is reason enough to turn away with despair from the realm of human affairs. The capacity to act freely produces a web of relationships that entangles its producer to such an extent that the producer appears much more victim and sufferer than the author and doer of what the producer has done. To condemn action, the spontaneous beginning of something new, because its results fall into a predetermined net of relationships, invariably dragging the agent with them, who forfeits one’s freedom the very moment one makes use of it. The possible redemption from the predicament of irreversibility — of being unable to undo what one has done though one did not, and could not, have known what he was doing — is the faculty of forgiving.

If we are going to engage in redemptive behavior in dealing the unexpected consequences of human action, forgiveness will be necessary, for it is an act which serves to undo the deeds of the past, whose sins hang like Damocles’ sword over every new generation. Without being forgiven, released from the consequences of what we have done, our capacity to act would, as it were, be confined to one single deed from which we could never recover; we would remain the victims of its consequences forever.

The wearisome sequence of revenge for past wrongs that only provokes further revenge is a chain people can break only through forgiveness. Without being forgiven, released from the consequences of what we have done, our capacity to act would, as it were, be confined to one single deed from which we could never recover. We would remain the victims of its consequences forever. Yet, a path needs to become open human relationships that says that what is done is not always done, the broken can be fixed, that the ravaged can be restored. That you can have another swing, that you can wife the slate clean, and you can go back to square one. Forgiveness is costly primarily to the one who forgives. The one who forgives gives up the right to justice or revenge and chooses mercy. Anyone who has truly forgiven another knows what this means. Respect for the person is sufficient to prompt forgiveness for the sake of the person. To think that we owe respect only where we admire or esteem the person, or even only if we love them, constitutes a clear symptom of the increasing depersonalization of public and social life.

Jesus is consistent with his Jewish tradition in its emphasis of forgiveness. The entire sacrificial system was a way of helping people confront their need for forgiveness. That system dealt with sin, but also with unknown transgression. The story of Joseph in Genesis is a profound reflection on family relationships and the need for forgiveness in the realm of human affairs.^{^[46]} Jesus maintains against the “scribes and pharisees” first that it is not true that only God has the power to forgive, and second that this power does not derive from God — as though God, not humanity, would forgive through the medium of human beings — but on the contrary must be mobilized by men toward each other before they can hope to be forgiven by God also. Jesus’ formulation is even more radical. Human beings in the gospel are not supposed to forgive because God forgives and they must do “likewise,” but “if ye from your hearts forgive,” God shall do “likewise.” But trespassing is an everyday occurrence which is in the very nature of action’s constant establishment of new relationships within a web of relations, and it needs forgiving, dismissing, to make it possible for life to go on by constantly releasing people from what they have done unknowingly. In this respect, forgiveness is the exact opposite of vengeance. The alternative to forgiveness, but by no means its opposite, is punishment, and both have in common that they attempt to put an end to something that without interference could go on endlessly.

The most plausible argument that forgiving and acting are as intricately connected as destroying and making comes from that aspect of forgiveness where the undoing of what was done seems to show the same revelatory character as the deed itself. What was done is forgiven for the sake of who did it.

[1] Barth (Church Dogmatics I.2 [14.2] 83-84).

[2] Pannenberg, (Systematic Theology, Volume I, 213)

[3] Barth (Church Dogmatics III.1 [41.1] 53-54)

[4] Barth (Church Dogmatics IV.3 [71.4] 584)

[5] Barth (IV.3 [96.2] 93-94)

[6] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume I, (ibid, 222, 240)

[7] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Volume I, (ibid, 237)

[8] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology Volume 2, 208)

[9] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Volume 2, 34

[10] Barth (Church Dogmatics I.1 [10.1])

[11] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology Volume 2, 22)

[12] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology, Volume 2, 369)

[13] Barth (Church Dogmatics III.3 [51.3] 500)

[14] Oscar Cullmann (The Christology of the New Testament, 1957, 188)

[15] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology, Volume 1, 302, 312)

[16] John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion II, 16, 7, trans. John McNeill (Westminster John Knox, 1960), 511-12.

[17] Ernst Kassemann (Jesus Means Freedom, 1970, 101-16)

[18] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology Volume 2, 402)

[19] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology, Volume 3, 579, 628)

[20] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology volume 3 p. 421)

[21] Fred Craddock

[22] Pannenberg, (Systematic Theology Volume 2, 384)

[23] Barth, Church Dogmatics, IV.3, 71.5, 627-8.

[24] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology, Volume 2, 306)

[25] (Gerald F. Hawthorne, New International Bible Commentary, ed. F.F. Bruce [Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 1979], 1507).

[26] (Kenneth Schenck, Understanding the Book of Hebrews: The Story Behind the Sermon [Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003], 76).

[27] (Kenneth Schenck, Understanding the Book of Hebrews: The Story Behind the Sermon [Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003], 113, note 32).

[28] (New International Bible Commentary, ed. F.F. Bruce [Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 1979], 1514).

[29] Barth, Church Dogmatics, I.2 [15.2], 158.

[30] Barth, Church Dogmatics, IV.1, 59.2, 260.

[31] (Craig Koester, "Hebrews," Anchor Bible, v. 36 [New York: Doubleday, 2001], 299).

[32] (Kenneth Schenck, Understanding the Book of Hebrews: The Story Behind the Sermon, [Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003], 69).

[33] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology Volume 2, 316, 375, 384, 439, Volume 3, 318)

[34] (Kenneth Schenck, Understanding the Book of Hebrews: The Story Behind the Sermon, [Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003], 77).

[35] "(Kenneth Schenck, Understanding the Book of Hebrews: The Story Behind the Sermon [Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003], 78).

[36] (Kenneth Schenck, Understanding the Book of Hebrews: The Story Behind the Sermon [Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003], 78).

[37](William C. Placher, “Christ takes our place: Rethinking atonement,” Interpretation, January 1999, 12).

[38] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology, Volume 2, 448)

[39] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology, Volume 2, 443)

[40] Barth Church Dogmatics, IV.1 [59.2] p. 282.

[41] Buchsel (TDNT, Volume 4, 339)

[42] Barth Church Dogmatics IV.1 [59.2], 277.

[43] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology, Volume 2, 443, 444)

[44] Bono: In Conversation, inspired some of these reflections on karma and grace.

[45] Hannah Arendt, in The Human Condition, inspires these comments.

[46] Hannah Arendt says too much when she said that the discoverer of the role of forgiveness in the realm of human affairs was Jesus of Nazareth.

lectionarypondering

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Hebrews October 2-November 19 Year B Common Time

Hebrews 1:1-4, 2:5-12 (Year B October 2-8) is an opportunity to discuss Christology and the Trinity.

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