Homilies on Hebrews
Homily 4 — Hebrews 2, verses 5 to 15
Hebrews 2, verses 5 to 15
“For it was not to angels that he subjected the world to come, of which we are speaking. But someone has testified somewhere, saying, ‘What is man, that you are mindful of him, or the son of man, that you visit him? You made him a little lower than the angels.’”
I could have wished to know for certain whether any of you listen to what is said with the earnestness it deserves, and whether we are not scattering the seed along the path. In that case I would give my instructions more cheerfully. For we will speak even if no one listens, because of the fear our Savior has laid on us. “Testify to this people,” he says, “and even if they do not listen, you yourself will be free of guilt” (see Ezekiel 3, verse 19). But if I were convinced of your earnestness, I would speak not out of fear alone but with pleasure as well. As it is, even if no one listens, and even if my work brings me no danger so long as I do my own part, still the labor is not altogether pleasant. For what is the gain, when I am not blamed but no one is helped? But if any of you would pay attention, the benefit to us would come not so much from escaping punishment ourselves as from your progress.
How, then, am I to know? I will take note of some of you who are not very attentive, and I will question them privately when I meet them. And if I find that they have kept any of what has been said — I do not say all of it, for that would not be very easy for you, but even a few things out of many — then plainly I will have no more doubts about the rest. Indeed, I ought to have come at you without any warning, when you were off your guard. Still, it will be enough if I can reach my goal even this way. Or rather, even as things stand, I can catch you off your guard. I have warned you that I will question you, but I have not yet made clear when. Perhaps it will be today, perhaps tomorrow, perhaps in twenty or thirty days, perhaps sooner, perhaps later.
This is how God, too, has made the day of our death uncertain. He has not let it be clear to us whether it will come today, or tomorrow, or after a whole year, or after many years, so that through the uncertainty of the expectation we may keep ourselves firm in virtue all the time. That we will depart, he has told us; but when, he has not yet said. In the same way I have said that I will question you, but I have not added when, because I want you always to be thinking about it.
And let no one say, “I heard these things four or five weeks ago, or more, and I cannot remember them.” For I want the hearer to keep them in such a way that his memory of them is lasting and does not fade, and that he does not disown what has been said. I want you to remember them, not so that you can repeat them to me, but so that you may profit from them; and that matters to me most of all. So let no one say this.
But now I must begin on what follows in the letter. What, then, is set before us to speak about today?
“For it was not to angels,” he says, “that he subjected the world to come, of which we are speaking.” Is he talking, then, about some other world? No, about this one. That is why he added “of which we are speaking,” so as not to let the mind wander off in search of some other world. Then how can he call it “the world to come”? In exactly the way he says in another place, “who is a pattern of the one who was to come” (Romans 5, verse 14), when he is speaking of Adam and Christ in the Letter to the Romans. There he calls Christ in the flesh “the one who was to come” with respect to Adam’s time, for then he was still to come. So here too: he had said, “But when he brings the Firstborn into the world,” and so that you would not suppose he was speaking of another world, the point is made certain both by many considerations and by his saying “to come.” For the world was to come, but the Son of God always was. This world, then, which was about to come, God subjected not to angels but to Christ. And that this is said of the Son, he means, is plain; for surely no one would claim the other alternative, that it referred to angels.
Then he brings in another testimony as well and says, “But someone has testified somewhere, saying.” Why did he not give the prophet’s name, but kept it hidden? He does the same with other testimonies too, as when he says, “But when he again brings the Firstborn into the world, he says, ‘Let all the angels of God worship him.’ And again, ‘I will be a Father to him.’ And of the angels he says, ‘Who makes his angels spirits.’ And, ‘You, Lord, in the beginning laid the foundations of the earth’” (Hebrews 1, verses 6, 5, 7 and 10). So here too he says, “But someone has testified somewhere, saying.” And this very thing, I think, is the manner of a man who is keeping himself out of sight. It also shows that they were well versed in the Scriptures, since he does not name the one who spoke the testimony but brings it in as something familiar and well known.
“What is man, that you are mindful of him, or the son of man, that you visit him? You made him a little lower than the angels; you crowned him with glory and honor.” Verse 8: “You have put all things in subjection under his feet.”
Now although these words were spoken of human nature in general, they still apply more properly to Christ in the flesh. For “You have put all things in subjection under his feet” belongs to him rather than to us. The Son of God visited us when we were nothing; and after taking our nature and uniting it to himself, he became higher than all.
“For in putting all things in subjection under him,” he says, “he left nothing that is not put under him. But now we do not yet see all things put under him.” What he means is this. He had said, “Until I make your enemies your footstool” (Hebrews 1, verse 13), and it was likely that they would still be distressed. So, after putting in a few things by way of an aside, he added this testimony to confirm the earlier one. He wanted to keep them from saying, “How has he put his enemies under his feet, when we have suffered so much?” He had already hinted at the answer well enough in the earlier place — for the word “until” pointed not to what would happen at once but to what would happen in the course of time — and here he follows it up. Do not suppose, he says, that because they have not yet been made subject, they will not be made subject. That they must be made subject is plain; that is why the prophecy was spoken. “For in putting all things under him, he left nothing that is not put under him.” Why, then, have all things not been put under him? Because they are yet to be put under him.
If, then, all things must be made subject to him but have not yet been made subject, do not grieve and do not be troubled. If the end had come and all things had been made subject, and you were still suffering these things, you would have reason to complain. “But now we do not yet see all things put under him.” The King has not yet won his clear victory. Why, then, are you troubled when you suffer hardship? The preaching of the good news has not yet prevailed over all; it is not yet time for them to be made subject completely.
Then there is another comfort as well: he who is yet to have all things put in subjection under him has himself also died and submitted to countless sufferings. Verse 9: “But we see him who was made a little lower than the angels, Jesus, because of the suffering of death” — then the good things again — “crowned with glory and honor.” Do you see how everything applies to him? For the words “a little” would suit him better, since he was only three days in Hades, than they suit us, who lie in decay for a long time. Likewise “with glory and honor” will suit him much more than us.
Again he reminds them of the cross, and by doing so he accomplishes two things: he shows how much Christ cared for them, and he persuades them to bear everything nobly, looking to their Master. For, he would say, if he who is worshiped by angels was willing, for your sake, to be a little lower than the angels, much more ought you, who are lower than the angels, to bear everything for his sake. Then he shows that the cross is “glory and honor,” just as Christ himself always calls it, saying, “That the Son of Man might be glorified” (John 11, verse 4), and, “The Son of Man is glorified” (John 12, verse 23). If, then, he calls the sufferings he bore for his servants’ sake “glory,” much more should you call so the sufferings you bear for the Lord.
Do you see how great the fruit of the cross is? Do not be afraid of the thing. It seems grim to you, but it brings forth countless good things. From these considerations he shows the benefit of trial. Then he says, “so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone.”
“By the grace of God,” he says. It was because of God’s grace toward us that he suffered these things. “He who did not spare his own Son,” he says, “but gave him up for us all” (Romans 8, verse 32). Why? He did not owe us this; he did it out of grace. And again, in the Letter to the Romans, he says, “Much more has the grace of God, and the gift by grace that comes through the one man Jesus Christ, overflowed to many” (Romans 5, verse 15).
“So that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone” — not for the faithful only, but for the whole world. For he did die for all. But what if not all have believed? He has done his own part. And he was right to say “taste death for everyone”; he did not say “die.” For he did, as it were, only taste it: he spent a little time in it and rose at once.
So by saying “because of the suffering of death,” he pointed to a real death, and by saying “superior to angels,” he made the resurrection plain. A physician does not need to taste the food prepared for a sick man, but in his care for him he tastes it first himself, to persuade the sick man to try the food with confidence. In the same way, since all people were afraid of death, he tasted it himself, though he had no need to, in order to persuade them to take courage against death. “For,” he says, “the ruler of this world is coming, and finds nothing in me” (John 14, verse 30). So both “by grace” and “might taste death for everyone” establish this.
Verse 10: “For it was fitting for him, for whom are all things and through whom are all things, in bringing many sons to glory, to make the Leader of their salvation perfect through sufferings.”
Here he is speaking of the Father. Do you see how again he applies the words “through whom” to the Father? He would not have done so if the expression implied inferiority and could be used only of the Son. What he is saying is this: God has done what is worthy of his love for humankind, in showing his Firstborn to be more glorious than all and in setting him forth as an example to the others, like some noble wrestler who outshines the rest.
“The Leader of their salvation” — that is, the cause of their salvation. Do you see how wide the gap is? He is a Son and we are sons; but he saves, and we are saved. Do you see how he first brings us together and then sets us apart? “Bringing many sons to glory,” he says — here he brings us together. “The Leader of their salvation” — here again he sets us apart.
“To make perfect through sufferings.” Sufferings, then, are a perfecting and a cause of salvation. Do you see that suffering hardship is not the lot of those who are utterly abandoned, since it was by this very thing that God first honored his Son, leading him through sufferings? And truly, his taking flesh and suffering what he suffered is a far greater thing than making the world and bringing it out of nothing. That too shows his love for humankind, but this far more. And the apostle himself points to this very thing when he says, “So that in the ages to come he might show the surpassing riches of his goodness, he raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus” (Ephesians 2, verses 7 and 6).
“For it was fitting for him, for whom are all things and through whom are all things, in bringing many sons to glory, to make the Leader of their salvation perfect through sufferings.” He means this: it was fitting for him who takes tender care, and who brought all things into being, to give up the Son for the salvation of the rest, the one for the many. Yet he did not put it that way, but said, “to make perfect through sufferings,” showing that when someone suffers for another, it is not only the other who profits; the one who suffers also becomes more glorious and more perfect himself. And he says this with the faithful in view as well, comforting them along the way; for Christ was glorified at the very time he suffered. But when I say he was glorified, do not suppose that any glory was added to him. What belonged to his nature he always had, and he received nothing further.
“For both he who makes holy and those who are made holy,” he says, “are all of one; that is why he is not ashamed to call them brothers.” See again how he brings them together, honoring and comforting them, and making them brothers of Christ in this respect, that they are “of one.” Then again, guarding himself and showing that he is speaking of what is according to the flesh, he adds, “For he who makes holy” — that is, Christ — “and those who are made holy” — ourselves. Do you see how great the difference is? He makes holy; we are made holy. And above he said, “the Leader of their salvation.” “For there is one God, from whom are all things” (First Corinthians 8, verse 6).
“That is why he is not ashamed to call them brothers.” Do you see how again he shows Christ’s superiority? By saying “he is not ashamed,” he shows that the whole thing comes not from the nature of the case but from the loving affection of him who was “not ashamed” of anything — from his great humility. For though we are “of one,” still he makes holy and we are made holy, and the difference is great. Besides, he is from the Father as a true Son, that is, from the Father’s own being; we are from him as things created, that is, brought out of nothing. So the difference is great. That is why he says, “He is not ashamed to call them brothers, saying, ‘I will proclaim your name to my brothers’” (verse 12; Psalm 22, verse 22). For when he clothed himself with flesh, he clothed himself also with the brotherhood, and with it he came into the brotherhood.
This much he brings in fittingly. But this — “I will put my trust in him” (verse 13; Second Samuel 22, verse 3) — what does it mean? For what follows it is also brought in fittingly: “Here am I, and the children whom God has given me” (Isaiah 8, verse 18). For as here he shows himself a Father, so before he showed himself a Brother: “I will proclaim your name to my brothers,” he says. And again he points out the superiority and the great distance between us by what follows (verse 14): “Since, then, the children,” he says, “share in flesh and blood” — do you see where he says the likeness lies? In the flesh — “he himself likewise took part in the same.”
Let all the heretics be ashamed; let those who say that he came in appearance and not in reality hide their faces. For he did not say only, “He took part in these,” and stop there — though if he had said that much it would have been enough — but he insisted on something more by adding “likewise”: not in appearance, he means, or as an image (for then “likewise” would not hold), but in reality, showing the brotherhood.
Next he also sets out the reason for the plan of salvation: “So that through death,” he says, “he might destroy the one who had the power of death, that is, the devil.”
Here he points out the wonder: the devil was overcome by the very thing through which he had prevailed. Death was his strong weapon against the world, and with death Christ struck him down. In this he shows the greatness of the conqueror’s power. Do you see how much good death has done?
Verse 15: “And might set free those,” he says, “who through fear of death were subject to slavery all their lives.”
Why do you shudder? he means. Why do you fear him who has been brought to nothing? He is no longer terrible; he has been trampled underfoot and utterly despised; he is contemptible and of no account (Second Timothy 1, verse 10).
But what does “through fear of death were subject to slavery all their lives” mean? He means either this: that whoever fears death is a slave and will submit to anything rather than die. Or this: that all people were slaves of death and held under its power, because death had not yet been done away with. Or that people lived in constant fear, always expecting to die, and being afraid of death they could have no sense of pleasure while that fear was with them. This is what he hinted at in saying “all their lives.”
He shows here that the afflicted, the harassed, the persecuted, those deprived of homeland and property and everything else, live more sweetly and more freely than the people of old who lived in luxury, who suffered no such hardships, who enjoyed constant prosperity — since those people were under this fear “all their lives” and were slaves, while these have been made free and laugh at what the others shuddered at. It is now as though a man were being led away into a captivity that ended in death, always expecting it, and someone were fattening him up on plenty of delicacies — death in the old days was something like that. But now it is as though someone took away that fear along with the delicacies and promised a contest instead, setting up a combat that would lead no longer to death but to a kingdom. Which group would you have wanted to be in: those being fattened in prison while every day they wait for their sentence, or those who contend hard and labor willingly so that they may crown themselves with the royal diadem? Do you see how he has lifted up their souls and set them soaring?
He also shows that not only has death been brought to an end, but through it the one who is always waging a war without truce against us — I mean the devil — has been brought to nothing as well; for whoever does not fear death is out of reach of the devil’s tyranny. For if “skin for skin, yes, all that a man has he will give for his life” (Job 2, verse 4), then when someone has made up his mind to disregard even his life, what will he be a slave to from then on? He fears no one, he dreads no one; he is higher than all and freer than all. For whoever disregards his own life will much more disregard everything else. And when the devil finds a soul like this, he can accomplish none of his works in it. For what? Tell me, will he threaten loss of property, and disgrace, and exile from one’s homeland? These are small matters to the one who, as the blessed Paul says, “does not count even his life dear to himself” (Acts 20, verse 24). You see that in casting out the tyranny of death, he also overthrew the strength of the devil. For whoever has learned to reflect on the countless truths about the resurrection, how could he fear death? How could he shudder any more?
So do not be grieved, and do not say, “Why do we suffer this and that?” This is how the victory becomes more glorious. It would not have been glorious unless he had destroyed death by death. And the most wonderful thing is that he conquered his enemy by the very means through which that enemy was strong, showing at every point how rich his resources are and how excellent his designs. So let us not prove false to the gift that has been given us. “For we have not received a spirit of fear,” he says, “but a spirit of power, and of love, and of a sound mind” (Romans 8, verse 15; Second Timothy 1, verse 7). Let us stand nobly, then, and laugh death to scorn.
But I must stop a moment, for it comes over me to groan bitterly when I think how high Christ has raised us, and how low we have brought ourselves. When I see the wailing in public, the groaning over those who are departing this life, the howling, and all the other unseemly behavior, believe me, I am ashamed before the pagans and the Jews and the heretics who see it, and before everyone who openly laughs us to scorn because of it. Whatever I may say afterward, I will be talking to no purpose when I speak as a philosopher about the resurrection. Why? Because the pagans pay no attention to what I say, but to what you do. They will say at once: “When will any of these people be able to despise death, when he cannot even bear to see someone else dead?”
Beautiful things were spoken by Paul, beautiful and worthy of heaven and of God’s love for humankind. For what does he say? “And he would deliver those who through fear of death were subject to slavery all their lifetime.” But you do not let these things be believed; you fight against them by what you do. And yet many things exist for this very purpose: God has built a fortress against it, so that he might destroy this same evil custom. For tell me, what do the bright torches mean? Do we not send the dead on ahead like athletes? And what do the hymns mean? Do we not glorify God and give thanks that at last he has crowned the one who has departed, that he has set him free from his labors, that he has taken away all uncertainty and has him with himself? Is that not what the hymns are for? Is that not what the singing of psalms is for? All these are the acts of people who rejoice. For it is said, “Is anyone cheerful? Let him sing psalms” (James 5, verse 13).
But the pagans pay no attention to these things. One of them will say: “Do not tell me about a man who is a philosopher when he is out of trouble; that is nothing great or surprising. Show me a man who is a philosopher in the very midst of trouble, and then I will believe in the resurrection.”
Now that women caught up in the affairs of this life should behave this way is not surprising at all. And yet even this is dreadful, for the same philosophy is required of them too. That is why Paul says, “But concerning those who are asleep, I do not want you to be ignorant, so that you do not grieve as the rest do, who have no hope” (First Thessalonians 4, verse 13). He did not write this to those who live alone, or to women vowed to lifelong virginity, but to women and men living in the world. Still, this is not so dreadful. But when a man or a woman professes to be crucified to the world, and then he tears his hair and she shrieks wildly — what could be more unseemly than this?
Believe me when I say this: if things were done as they ought to be, such people would be shut out from the doors of the church for a long time. For the ones who really deserve to be grieved over are those who still fear death and shudder at it, who have no faith in the resurrection. Someone says: “But I do not disbelieve in the resurrection. I long for his company.” Then tell me, when he goes away from home, and for a long absence, why do you not do the same? “Yes, but I do weep then too, and I mourn, because I long for him.” But that weeping is what people do who truly long for their companions; this weeping is what a woman does who has given up hope of his return.
Think what you sing on that occasion: “Return to your rest, my soul, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you” (Psalm 116, verse 7). And again, “I will fear no evil, for you are with me” (Psalm 23, verse 4). And again, “You are my refuge from the trouble that surrounds me” (Psalm 32, verse 7). Think what these psalms mean. But you pay no attention; you are drunk with grief.
Think carefully about the laments at other people’s funerals, so that you may have a remedy in your own case. “Return, my soul, to your rest, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you.” Tell me, do you say that the Lord has dealt bountifully with you, and then weep? Is this not mere play-acting? Is it not hypocrisy? If you really believe the things you say, your grief is pointless. But if you are only playing and acting a part, and think these things are fables, why do you sing psalms at all? Why do you even put up with those who attend the dead? Why do you not drive the singers away? But that would be the act of madmen. And yet the other is far more so.
For the present, then, I am giving you advice; but as time goes on I will deal with the matter more severely. For I am greatly afraid that through this practice some grievous disease may work its way into the church. So we will correct this matter of the wailing later. In the meantime I charge you and solemnly testify to you, rich and poor alike, women and men alike.
May God grant that all of you depart this life with no one wailing over you; that, as is fitting, fathers who have grown old may be taken to their graves by their sons, and mothers by their daughters, and by grandchildren and great-grandchildren, in a ripe and vigorous old age; and that no untimely death may come to anyone. May it be so; this is my prayer. And I urge those who preside, and all of you, to ask God for this on one another’s behalf and to make this prayer together.
But if — God forbid, and may it never happen — some bitter death should come (bitter, I mean, not in its nature, for from now on no death is bitter, since it differs not at all from sleep, but bitter because of how you feel about it); if this should happen, and anyone should hire these mourning women, believe me when I say — I do not speak idly, but as I have resolved; let anyone who wants to be angry be angry — we will shut that person out of the church for a long time, just as we do the idolater. For if Paul calls “the greedy man an idolater” (Ephesians 5, verse 5), how much more the one who brings the practices of idolaters in over one of the faithful who has died?
For tell me, why do you invite the presbyters and the singers? Is it not to give comfort? Is it not to honor the one who has departed? Why, then, do you insult him? Why do you make a public spectacle of him? Why do you make sport of it as if on a stage? We come and speak of the things concerning the resurrection, and by the honor shown to him we teach everyone, even those who have not yet been struck by such a loss, to bear it nobly if anything like this should happen to them. And you bring in those who overthrow our teaching, as far as it lies in their power? What could be worse than this ridicule and mockery? What more grievous than this inconsistency?
Be ashamed, and show some reverence. But if you will not, we cannot put up with practices so destructive being brought into the church. For it is said, “Rebuke those who sin in front of everyone” (First Timothy 5, verse 20). And as for those miserable and wretched women, through you we forbid them ever to push their way into the funerals of the faithful again; otherwise we may make them wail in earnest over their own troubles, and teach them not to do this over other people’s sorrows but rather to weep for their own misfortunes. For an affectionate father too, when he has an unruly son, not only advises him to keep away from wicked people but also puts fear into them. Look, then: I advise you, and through you those women, that you do not invite such people, and that they do not come. May God grant that my words have some effect, and that my threat is enough. But if — God forbid — we are ignored, from then on we will have no choice but to carry out our threat, punishing you by the laws of the church, and those women as befits them.
Now if anyone is stubborn and contemptuous, let him hear Christ saying even now, “If anyone wrongs you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone”; but if he will not be persuaded, “take one or two others with you.” And if even then he contradicts you, “tell it to the church; and if he refuses to listen even to the church, let him be to you as a pagan and a tax collector” (Matthew 18, verses 15, 16 and 17). Now if, when someone wrongs me and will not be persuaded, the Lord commands me to turn away from him like this, judge for yourselves how I ought to regard the man who wrongs himself and God. Do you not yourselves condemn us for coming down on you so gently?
If, however, anyone disregards the bonds we lay on him, let Christ teach him again, saying, “Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven” (Matthew 18, verse 18). For though we ourselves are miserable and good for nothing and deserve to be despised, as indeed we are, still we are not avenging ourselves or striking back in anger; we are caring for your salvation.
Be moved by reverence, I beg you, and by respect. If a man puts up with a friend who attacks him more sharply than he should, once he sees what the friend is aiming at, and that he does it with kind intentions and not out of insolence, how much more should he put up with a teacher who rebukes him — and a teacher who does not say these things as a matter of authority, or as one in the position of a ruler, but as a kindly guardian! For we do not say these things because we want to show off our authority — how could we, when we pray that we may never have to put it to the test? — but in grief and sorrow for you.
So forgive me, and let no one disregard the bonds of the church. For it is not man who binds, but Christ, who has given us this authority and makes men masters of so great an honor. We would like to use this power for loosing; or rather, we would like to have no need even of that, for we wish that no one among us should be bound. We are not so miserable and wretched as to want that, even if some of us are utterly worthless. If, however, we are forced to do it, forgive us. It is not of our own accord, nor because we want to, but out of sorrow for you who are bound, that we put the chains around you. But if anyone despises these chains, the time of judgment will come, and it will teach him. What comes after that I do not want to speak of, so as not to wound your minds. In the first place, we do not want to be brought to this necessity; but if we are brought to it, we do our own part, we put the chains around you. And if anyone breaks through them, I have done my part and from then on am free of blame, and you will have to give an account to him who commanded me to bind.
Think of a king sitting in public. If one of the guards standing beside him is commanded to bind one of the attendants and put chains around him, and the man not only pushes the guard away but also breaks the chains to pieces, is it the guard who suffers the insult, and not much more the king who gave the order? For if he claims as his own what is done to the faithful, much more will he feel himself insulted when the one who has been appointed to teach is insulted.
But God grant that none of those who are over this church may be driven to the necessity of these bonds. For as it is a good thing not to sin, so it is profitable to bear reproof. So let us bear the rebuke, and work hard not to sin; and if we do sin, let us bear the rebuke. As it is an excellent thing not to be wounded, but, if it does happen, to put the remedy on the wound, so it is in this case too. But God forbid that anyone should need remedies like these. “But we are persuaded of better things concerning you, and things that belong to salvation, even though we speak like this” (Hebrews 6, verse 9). We have spoken more forcefully for the sake of greater safety. For it is better that you should suspect me of being harsh and severe and self-willed than that you should do things God does not approve.
But we trust in God that this rebuke will not be useless to you, and that you will be so changed that these sermons may turn into speeches of praise and commendation for you; so that we may all be counted worthy to attain those good things which God has promised to those who love him, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom be glory, might, and honor to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.