Homilies on Hebrews
Homily 12 — Hebrews 7, verses 1 to 10
Hebrews 7, verses 1 to 10
“For this Melchizedek, King of Salem, priest of the Most High God, who met Abraham returning from the slaughter of the kings and blessed him; to whom Abraham also gave a tenth part of everything; who is first, by interpretation, King of Righteousness, and after that also King of Salem, that is, King of Peace; without father, without mother, without genealogy, having neither beginning of days nor end of life, but made like the Son of God, remains a priest continually.”
Paul wants to show the difference between the new covenant and the old, and so he scatters it everywhere. He takes aim at it from far off, makes it widely heard, and prepares the ground beforehand. Right from the opening he laid down this saying: that “to them he spoke by prophets, but to us by the Son” (Hebrews 1, verses 1 and 2) — to them “at many times and in various ways,” but to us through the Son.
After that he spoke about the Son: who he was and what he had done. He urged them to obey him, so that we would not suffer what the Jews suffered. He said that he is “High Priest after the order of Melchizedek” (Hebrews 6, verse 20). Many times he wanted to enter on this difference, and he used a great deal of careful preparation; he rebuked them as weak, and then soothed them again and restored their confidence. Only then, at last, does he bring in the discussion of the difference between the two covenants, to ears now fully alert. For a man who is low in spirits would not make a ready listener. To understand this, listen to the Scripture saying, “They did not listen to Moses, because of their anguish of spirit” (Exodus 6, verse 9). So, having first cleared away their dejection with many considerations — some fearful, some more gentle — from this point on he enters on the discussion of the difference between the covenants.
And what does he say? “For this Melchizedek, King of Salem, priest of the Most High God.” And — what is especially worth noticing — he shows that the difference is great from the type itself. For, as I said, he keeps confirming the truth from the type, from things past, because his hearers were weak. “For this Melchizedek,” he says, “King of Salem, priest of the Most High God, who met Abraham returning from the slaughter of the kings and blessed him, to whom Abraham also gave a tenth part of everything.” Having set down the whole story briefly, he looked into its hidden meaning.
And first, from the name. “First,” he says, “being by interpretation King of Righteousness”: for Sedec means “righteousness,” and Melchi means “king” — Melchizedek, “King of Righteousness.” Do you see how exact he is, even with the names? But who is “King of Righteousness” except our Lord Jesus Christ?
“King of Righteousness, and after that also King of Salem” — named from his city — “that is, King of Peace.” This again belongs to Christ. For he has made us righteous, and has “made peace” for “things in heaven and things on earth” (Colossians 1, verse 20). What man is “King of Righteousness and of Peace”? None, except our Lord Jesus Christ alone.
Then he adds another distinction: “Without father, without mother, without genealogy, having neither beginning of days nor end of life, but made like the Son of God, he remains a priest continually.” The words “You are a priest forever, after the order of Melchizedek” stood in his way as an objection, since Melchizedek had died and was not a “priest forever.” See how he explained it by its hidden meaning.
“And who can say this about a man?” “I am not saying that it is so in fact,” he says. His meaning is this: we do not know what father he had, or what mother, or when he had his beginning, or when he died.
“And what of that? Does it follow, just because we do not know it, that he did not die, or had no parents?” You are right: he both died and had parents. How, then, was he “without father, without mother”? How was he “having neither beginning of days nor end of life”? How? Why, from its not being recorded. And what follows from this? That as this man is so because his genealogy is not given, so Christ is so by the very nature of the reality.
See the “without beginning”; see the “without end.” In this man’s case we do not know either the “beginning of days” or the “end of life,” because they have not been written down. In the same way we do not know them in the case of Jesus — not because they have not been written, but because they do not exist. For the one is a type, and so we say, “because it is not written”; but the other is the reality, and so we say, “because it does not exist.” It is as with the names: there, “King of Righteousness” and “of Peace” are titles, but here they are the reality. So these things too are titles in that case, and the reality in this one. How, then, does he have a beginning? You see that the Son is “without beginning” — not in the sense that he has no cause (for that is impossible: he has a Father; otherwise how is he Son?), but in the sense that he has “neither beginning nor end of life.”
“But made like the Son of God.” Where is the likeness? In this: that of neither one do we know either the end or the beginning — of the one because they are not written, of the other because they do not exist. Here is the likeness. But if the likeness held in every respect, there would no longer be a type and a reality; both would be a type. So here, just as in pictures, there is something that is like and something that is unlike. By the outline there is a likeness of the features; but when the colors are laid on, then the difference shows plainly — both the likeness and the unlikeness.
Verse 4: “Now consider,” he says, “how great this man is, to whom even the patriarch Abraham gave a tenth of the spoils.” Up to this point he has been applying the type; from here on he boldly shows Melchizedek to be more glorious than the Jewish realities. But if the one who bears a type of Christ is so much greater — not merely than the priests, but even than the forefather of the priests himself — what should one say of the reality? Do you see how overwhelmingly he shows the superiority?
“Now consider,” he says, “how great this man is, to whom even the patriarch Abraham gave a tenth out of the choice portions.” Spoils taken in battle are called “choice portions.” And it cannot be said that Abraham gave them to him as to one who had a share in the war; for, he says, Melchizedek met him “returning from the slaughter of the kings.” He had stayed at home, he means, and yet Abraham gave him the firstfruits of his labors.
Verse 5: “And truly those of the sons of Levi who receive the office of the priesthood have a command to take tithes from the people according to the law, that is, from their brothers, though these have come out of the loins of Abraham.”
So great, he would say, is the superiority of the priesthood, that men who are of the same rank by ancestry and have the same forefather are nevertheless far above the rest. At any rate, they “receive tithes” from them. When, then, someone is found who receives tithes from these very men, do they not stand in the rank of lay people, and he in the rank of priests?
And not only this: he was not even of the same rank as they, but of another race. So Abraham would not have given tithes to a stranger unless his rank had been great. Astonishing! What has he achieved? He has made plain a greater point than the ones about faith that he dealt with in the letter to the Romans. For there he declares Abraham to be the forefather both of our way of life and of the Jewish one. But here he is exceedingly bold against him, and shows that the uncircumcised man is far superior. How, then, did he show that Levi paid tithes? Abraham paid them, he says.
“And how does that concern us?” It concerns you most of all: for you will not argue that the Levites are greater than Abraham. (Verse 6) “But he whose descent is not counted from them received tithes from Abraham.”
And then he did not simply pass on, but added, “and blessed him who had the promises.” Since Abraham was held in reverence everywhere, he shows from the common judgment of all people that Melchizedek was to be revered more than Abraham. (Verse 7) “And beyond all dispute,” he says, “the lesser is blessed by the greater” — that is, in everyone’s opinion it is the inferior who is blessed by the superior. So the type of Christ is greater even than “him who had the promises.” (Verse 8) “And here men who die receive tithes, but there one of whom it is testified that he lives.” But so that we would not say, “Tell us, why do you go so far back?” he says (verse 9), “And, so to speak” — and he did well to soften it — “Levi also, who receives tithes, paid tithes in Abraham.” How? (Verse 10) “For he was still in his loins when Melchizedek met him” — that is, Levi was in him, although he was not yet born. And he did not say “the Levites,” but “Levi.”
Have you seen the superiority? Have you seen how great the distance is between Abraham and Melchizedek, who bears the type of our High Priest? And he shows that the superiority came about by authority, not by necessity. For the one paid the tithe, which points to the priest; the other gave the blessing, which points to the superior. And this superiority passes on to the descendants as well.
In a marvelous and triumphant way he drove out the Jewish order. That is why he said, “You have become dull” (Hebrews 5, verse 11): because he wanted to lay these foundations, so that they would not shy away. Such is the wisdom of Paul: he first prepares them well, and then leads them into what he wants. For the human race is hard to persuade and needs a great deal of care, even more than plants do. With plants there is only the nature of material bodies, and the soil, which yields to the farmers’ hands; but here there is a will, which is open to many changes and prefers now this, now that. For it quickly turns to evil.
That is why we must always keep “on guard” over ourselves, so that we never fall asleep. For “Look,” it says, “he who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep” (Psalm 121, verse 4), and “Do not allow your foot to be moved” (Psalm 121, verse 3). He did not say, “Do not be moved,” but “Do not allow,” and so on. So the allowing depends on ourselves and on no one else. For if we will stand “steadfast and immovable” (First Corinthians 15, verse 58), we will not be shaken.
What then? Does nothing depend on God? Everything depends on God — but not in such a way that our free will is hindered.
“If it depends on God, why does he blame us?” That is why I said, “not in such a way that our free will is hindered.” It depends, then, on us and on him. For we must first choose what is good, and then he leads us on to what is his. He does not get ahead of our choice, so that our free will is not violated. But once we have chosen, great is the help he brings us.
“How is it, then, that Paul says, ‘not of him who wills’ — if it depends on ourselves too — ‘nor of him who runs, but of God who shows mercy’ (Romans 9, verse 16)?”
In the first place, he did not put this forward as his own opinion, but drew it as a conclusion from what lay before him and from what had been brought up in the discussion. For after saying, “It is written, I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion” (Romans 9, verse 15), he says, “So then it is not of him who wills, nor of him who runs, but of God who shows mercy.”
“You will say to me, then, why does he still find fault?” (Romans 9, verse 19)
And secondly, another explanation may be given: that he calls everything his to whom the greater part belongs. For it is ours to choose and to want; but it is God’s to complete and bring to the end. Since, then, the greater part is his, he says that all is his, speaking in the ordinary way people speak. We ourselves do the same. For instance, we see a well-built house, and we say the whole is the architect’s work. Yet it is certainly not all his: it is also the workmen’s, and the owner’s, who supplies the materials, and many others’. Still, since he contributed the greatest share, we call the whole his. So it is in this case too. Again, with a number of people: where there are many, we say “everyone was there”; where there are few, “nobody.” So Paul also says, “not of him who wills, nor of him who runs, but of God who shows mercy.”
And in this he establishes two great truths. One is that we should not be puffed up. Even if you run, he would say, even if you are very earnest, do not think that the good you do is your own. For if you do not receive the impulse that comes from above, it is all to no purpose. Nevertheless, it is very plain that you will reach what you earnestly strive for — so long as you run, so long as you will. So he did not claim that we run in vain, but that we run in vain if we think the whole is our own, if we do not assign the greater part to God. For God did not want the whole to be his, so that he would not seem to be crowning us for nothing; nor again the whole to be ours, so that we would not fall away into pride. For if we think so much of ourselves when we have the smaller share, what would we do if the whole depended on us?
Indeed, God has done many things to cut away our boasting, and still the hand is lifted high. With how many afflictions he has surrounded us, to cut away our proud spirit! With how many wild beasts he has encircled us! For when some say, “Why is this?” “What use is this?” they are saying these things against the will of God. He has set you in the middle of such great fear, and even so you are not humble; but if you ever have a little success, you reach up to heaven itself in your pride.
That is why there are rapid changes and reversals; and even so we are not taught. That is why there are constant and untimely deaths; and yet we think as though we were immortal, as though we would never die. We plunder, we grab more than our share, as though we would never have to give an account. We build as though we were going to stay here forever. Neither the word of God sounding in our ears every day, nor the events themselves, teach us. Not a day, not an hour can be named in which we do not see funeral after funeral. But it is all in vain: nothing gets through our hardness of heart. We cannot even become better through other people’s calamities — or rather, we are not willing to.
Only when we ourselves are afflicted are we subdued; and yet if God takes his hand away, we lift up our hand again. No one considers what befits a human being; no one despises the things of earth; no one looks to heaven. But as pigs turn their heads downward, stooping toward their bellies and wallowing in the mud, so too the great mass of mankind defiles itself with the most unbearable filth without even being aware of it.
It would be better to be smeared with filthy mud than with sins. The one who is smeared with mud washes it off in a little while and becomes like someone who had never fallen into that bog at all. But the one who has fallen into the deep pit of sin has taken on a filth that water does not cleanse. It needs a long time, and strict repentance, and tears and lamentations, and more wailing — and more fervent wailing — than we show over our dearest friends. For the one filth sticks to us from outside, and so we quickly get rid of it; but the other is generated from within, and so we wash it off and cleanse ourselves of it only with difficulty.
“For out of the heart,” it says, “come evil thoughts, acts of sexual immorality, adulteries, thefts, false witness” (Matthew 15, verse 19). That is why the prophet also said, “Create in me a clean heart, O God” (Psalm 51, verse 10). And another said, “Wash your heart from wickedness, O Jerusalem” (Jeremiah 4, verse 14). (You see that it is both our work and God’s.) And again, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God” (Matthew 5, verse 8).
So let us become clean as far as we are able. Let us wipe away our sins. And how to wipe them away the prophet teaches, saying, “Wash yourselves, make yourselves clean, put away your wickedness from your souls before my eyes” (Isaiah 1, verse 16). What does “before my eyes” mean? Some seem to be free of wickedness, but only in the eyes of men, while to God they are plainly “whitewashed tombs.” So he says, “Put them away in such a way that I see it.” “Learn to do good; seek justice; do justice for the poor and the lowly.” “Come now, and let us reason together, says the Lord: though your sins are like scarlet, I will make you white as snow; and though they are like crimson, I will make you white as wool” (Isaiah 1, verses 17 and 18). You see that we must first cleanse ourselves, and then God cleanses us. For having first said, “Wash yourselves, make yourselves clean,” he then added, “I will make you white.”
So let no one despair of himself, not even among those who have come to the very worst wickedness. For even if you have passed into the habit — yes, almost into the very nature — of wickedness, he says, do not be afraid. That is why he took the example of colors that do not sit on the surface but are almost part of the very substance of the material, and said that he would bring them to the opposite state. For he did not simply say that he would “wash” us, but that he would “make” us “white as snow and as wool,” to hold out good hopes to us. Great, then, is the power of repentance, if it makes us like snow and whitens us like wool, even when sin has first taken hold and dyed our souls.
So let us work earnestly to become clean. He has commanded nothing burdensome: “Give judgment for the fatherless, and do justice for the widow” (Isaiah 1, verse 17). You see how everywhere God makes so much of mercy, and of standing up for those who are wronged. Let us pursue these good works, and we will be able, by the grace of God, to attain the good things to come. May we all be counted worthy of them, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, power, and honor, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.