Homily 13 — Hebrews 7, verses 11 to 28

“If, then, perfection were through the Levitical priesthood (for under it the people received the law), what further need was there for another priest to arise according to the order of Melchizedek, and not be called according to the order of Aaron? For when the priesthood is changed, there is of necessity a change of the law also. For he of whom these things are spoken belonged to another tribe, from which no one has served at the altar. For it is evident that our Lord sprang from Judah, a tribe of which Moses said nothing concerning priests.” [a]

“If, then,” he says, “perfection were through the Levitical priesthood.” He has spoken about Melchizedek and shown how far superior he was to Abraham, and he has set out the great difference between them. From this point on he begins to prove how wide the difference is in the covenant itself, and how the one is imperfect and the other perfect. Even so, he does not yet take up the matters themselves. He contends first on the ground of the priesthood and the tabernacle, because unbelievers would accept these things more easily when the proof was drawn from things already granted and believed.

He had shown that Melchizedek was far superior both to Levi and to Abraham, since he stood toward them in the rank of priest. Again he argues from a different point. What, then, is this? “Why,” he says, “was he not said to be ‘according to the order of Aaron’?” And notice, I ask you, how strong his argument is. The very fact that would naturally have ruled out Christ’s priesthood — that he was not “according to the order of Aaron” — is the fact he uses to establish Christ and to rule out the others. “This is the very thing I am saying,” he declares: “why was he not made ‘according to the order of Aaron’?”

The words “what further need” carry great emphasis. If Christ had first been “according to the order of Melchizedek” in the flesh, and the law had been brought in afterward with everything that belonged to Aaron, one might reasonably say that the later order, as the more perfect, had canceled the earlier, since it came in after it. But if Christ comes later and takes a different pattern for his priesthood, it is clear that this is because the former things were imperfect. “Let us suppose,” he would say, “for argument’s sake, that everything has been fulfilled, and that there is nothing imperfect in the priesthood. ‘What need’ was there, in that case, for him to be called ‘according to the order of Melchizedek, and not according to the order of Aaron’? Why did he set Aaron aside and bring in a different priesthood, that of Melchizedek?” “If, then, perfection” — that is, the perfection of the things themselves, of the teachings, of life — “had been through the Levitical priesthood.”

And notice how he moves forward along his path. He had said that Christ was “according to the order of Melchizedek,” implying that the priesthood “according to the order of Melchizedek” is superior, since Melchizedek was far superior. Afterward he shows this from the time as well: Christ came after Aaron, plainly as the better one.

And what do the next words mean? “For under it,” he says, “the people received the law.” What does “under it” mean? They ordered their lives by it; they did everything through it. You cannot say that it was given to others: “the people under it received the law,” that is, they made use of it, and went on using it. Nor can you say that it was perfect but did not govern the people: “on the basis of it they received their laws,” that is, they used it. [b]

What need was there, then, for another priesthood? “For when the priesthood is changed, there is of necessity a change of the law also.” If there must be another priest — or rather another priesthood — there must also be another law. This is aimed at those who ask, “What need was there for a new covenant?” He could, of course, have brought testimony from prophecy as well: “This is the covenant that I made with your fathers,” and the rest of the passage (Hebrews 8, verse 10). But for the present he contends on the ground of the priesthood. And notice how he says this from the very beginning. He said, “according to the order of Melchizedek,” and by that he ruled out the order of Aaron. He would not have said “according to the order of Melchizedek” if the other had been better. If, then, another priesthood has been brought in, there must also be another covenant. It is not possible for there to be a priest without a covenant and laws and ordinances, nor for one who has received a different priesthood to use the former covenant.

Next comes the point people raised as an objection: “How could he be a priest, if he was not a Levite?” He has already overthrown this by what he said above, so he does not even think it worth answering, but brings it in only in passing. “I have said,” he means, “that the priesthood was changed; therefore the covenant is changed too. And it was changed not only in its character and its ordinances, but also in its tribe.” For of necessity it had to be changed in its tribe as well. How? “For when the priesthood is changed” — or “transferred” — from tribe to tribe, from the priestly tribe to the royal one, so that the same tribe might be both royal and priestly.

And notice the mystery. First it was royal, and then it has become priestly. So it is also with Christ: he was always King, but he became Priest from the time he took on flesh, from the time he offered the sacrifice. You see the change. And the very things that were raised as objections he brings in as though the natural order of things required them. “For he of whom these things are spoken,” he says, “belonged to another tribe.” “I say it myself,” he means; “I know that this tribe of Judah had nothing to do with the priesthood. There has been a transfer.”

“And I am pointing out yet another difference,” he would say: “not only in the tribe, nor only in the person, nor in the character of the priesthood, nor in the covenant, but also in the pattern itself.” Verse 16: “Who has become a priest, not according to the law of a fleshly commandment, but according to the power of an endless life.” “He became a priest,” he says, “not according to the law of a fleshly commandment,” for that law was in many respects unlawful. [d]

What does “of a fleshly commandment” mean? Circumcise the flesh, it says; anoint the flesh; wash the flesh; purify the flesh; shave the flesh; bind things upon the flesh; take care of the flesh; rest the flesh. And its blessings — what are they? Long life for the flesh; milk and honey for the flesh; peace for the flesh; luxury for the flesh. It was from this law that Aaron received the priesthood; Melchizedek did not.

Verse 15: “And it is yet far more evident, if another priest arises in the likeness of Melchizedek.”

What is evident? The distance between the two priesthoods, the difference: how much superior he is “who has become a priest not according to the law of a fleshly commandment.” Who is meant? Melchizedek? No, Christ. “But according to the power of an endless life. For he testifies, ‘You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek’” — that is, not for a time, and not with any limit; “but according to the power of an endless life,” that is, by means of power, by means of “endless life.”

Yet this does not follow naturally after “who has become a priest not according to the law of a fleshly commandment.” What would follow is, “but according to the law of a spiritual one.” But by “fleshly” he meant temporary. As he says in another place too, “fleshly ordinances, imposed until the time of reformation” (Hebrews 9, verse 10).

“According to the power of life” — that is, because he lives by his own power.

He had said that there is also a change of law, and up to this point he has shown it. From here on he looks into the cause — the thing that above all gives people’s minds full assurance, I mean knowing the cause thoroughly. It leads us further into faith when we have also learned the cause and the reason by which a thing comes about. [f]

Verse 18: “For there is indeed,” he says, “a setting aside of the former commandment because of its weakness and uselessness.”

Here the heretics press their attack. But listen carefully. He did not say “because of its evil,” or “because of its wickedness,” but “because of its weakness and uselessness.” In other places too he shows its weakness, as when he says, “in that it was weak through the flesh” (Romans 8, verse 3). So it is not the law itself that is weak, but we.

Verse 19: “For the law made nothing perfect.” What does “made nothing perfect” mean? It made no one perfect, because it was disobeyed. And besides, even if it had been listened to, it would not have made anyone perfect and virtuous. But he does not say that here yet; he says only that it had no strength — and with good reason. For there the commands were set down in writing, “Do this” and “Do not do that”; they were only commanded, and gave no power within. But “the hope” is not like that.

What is “a setting aside”? A casting out. A “setting aside” is a setting aside of things that are in force. So he implied that the law was once in force, but from then on counted for nothing, since it accomplished nothing. Was the law, then, of no use? It was of use, and of great use; but for making people perfect it was of no use. That is the sense in which he says, “The law made nothing perfect.” All were figures, all were shadows: circumcision, sacrifice, the Sabbath. That is why they could not reach through to the soul, and so they pass away and gradually withdraw. “But the bringing in of a better hope did, through which we draw near to God.”

Verse 20: “And since it was not without the taking of an oath.” You see that the matter of the oath becomes necessary to him here. That was why he dealt with it at length earlier — how God swore, and swore so that we might be more fully assured. [h]

“But the bringing in of a better hope.” The former order also had a hope, but not one like this. They hoped that if they pleased God they would possess the land and suffer nothing terrible. But under this covenant we hope that if we please God we will possess not earth but heaven — or rather, what is far better than this, we hope to stand near God, to come to the very throne of the Father, to serve him together with the angels. And see how he brings these things in little by little. Above he says, “which enters into the place within the veil” (Hebrews 6, verse 19), but here, “through which we draw near to God.”

“And since it was not without an oath.” What does that mean? “Look,” he says, “here is another difference too. These things were not merely promised. For those priests were made without an oath” (verses 21 and 22), “but this one with an oath, by him who said to him, ‘The Lord has sworn and will not change his mind: You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek.’ By so much has Jesus become the guarantor of a better covenant.”

He lays down two points of difference: that it has no end, whereas the covenant of the law had one. He proves this from the fact that it is Christ who holds the priesthood, for he says, “according to the power of an endless life.” He proves it also from the oath, because “the Lord has sworn,” and the rest of the verse. And he proves it from the facts themselves: if the other was cast out because it was weak, this one stands firm because it is powerful. He proves it also from the priest. How? Because he is the only one, and he would not have been the only one if he had not been immortal. Just as there were many priests because they were mortal, so here there is the One, because he is immortal.

“By so much has Jesus become the guarantor of a better covenant,” since God swore to him that he would always be a priest — which he would not have done if he were not living.

Verse 25: “Therefore he is also able to save to the uttermost those who come to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them.” You see that he says this with respect to what belongs to the flesh. For when he appears as Priest, then he also intercedes. That is why Paul too, when he says, “who also makes intercession for us” (Romans 8, verse 34), hints at the same thing: the High Priest makes intercession. For he who “raises the dead and gives them life as he wills” (John 5, verse 21), and does so “even as the Father” does — how is it that he “makes intercession” when there is need to save? He who has “all judgment” (John 5, verse 22) — how is it that he “makes intercession”? He who “sends his angels” (Matthew 13, verses 41 and 42) so that they may “cast” some into “the furnace” and save others — how is it that he “makes intercession”? [i]

“Therefore,” he says, “he is also able to save.” This is the reason he saves: because he does not die. Since “he always lives,” he means, he has no successor; and if he has no successor, he is able to help everyone. There, under the law, the high priest was worthy of admiration while he held the office — Samuel, for instance, or anyone else like him — but after that he was no longer, for they died. Here it is not so: he saves “to the uttermost.”

What does “to the uttermost” mean? He is hinting at some mystery. “Not here only,” he says, “but there too he saves those who ‘come to God through him.’” How does he save? “Since he always lives,” he says, “to make intercession for them.” Do you see the lowliness? Do you see his humanity? For he does not say that he obtained this by interceding once for all, but continually, whenever there is need to intercede for them.

“To the uttermost.” What is that? Not for a time only, but there too, in the life to come. “Does he, then, always need to pray? How can that be reasonable? Even righteous men have often accomplished everything with one request — and is he always praying? Why, then, is he enthroned with the Father?” You see that it is said by way of stooping down to meet us. The meaning is this: Do not be afraid, and do not say, “Yes, he loves us, and he has confidence before the Father, but he cannot live forever.” For he does live forever.

Verse 26: “For it was fitting that we should have such a high priest, who is holy, innocent, undefiled, separated from sinners.” You see that the whole is said with reference to his humanity. (But when I say “his humanity,” I mean his humanity together with his being God — not dividing the one from the other, but leaving you to understand what is fitting to each.) Did you notice the difference in the High Priest? He has gathered up what was said before: “in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Hebrews 4, verse 15). “For it was fitting,” he says, “that we should have such a high priest, who is holy, innocent.” [j]

“Innocent” — what is that? Without wickedness. It is what another prophet says: “No deceit was found in his mouth” (Isaiah 53, verse 9) — that is, he is not crafty. Could anyone say this of God? Would one not be ashamed to say that God is not crafty or deceitful? But said of him in respect of the flesh, it might be reasonable. “Holy, undefiled.” Would anyone say this too of God? Does he have a nature that can be defiled? “Separated from sinners.”

Does this alone show the difference, or does the sacrifice itself show it too? How? Verse 27: “He has no need,” he says, “daily, like the high priest, to offer up sacrifices for his sins, for this he did once for all, when he offered up himself.” “This” — what? Here what follows sounds a prelude to the surpassing greatness of the spiritual sacrifice and to the distance between the two. He has spoken to the point of the priest; he has spoken to the point of the faith; he has spoken to the point of the covenant — not fully, but still he has spoken of it. Here what follows is a prelude to the sacrifice itself. [k]

So when you hear that he is a priest, do not suppose that he is always performing the priest’s office. He performed it once, and from then on “sat down” (Hebrews 10, verse 12). So that you will not suppose that he is standing on high and is a minister, he shows that this belongs to the plan of salvation. Just as he became a servant, so also he became a Priest and a minister. But as he did not remain a servant after becoming one, so also, having become a minister, he did not remain a minister. For it is not a minister’s part to sit, but to stand.

This, then, is what he hints at here, and also the greatness of the sacrifice: that though it was only one, and offered only once, it accomplished what all the others could not. But he does not yet deal with these points.

“For this he did,” he says. “This” — what? “For it is necessary,” he says, “that this one also have something to offer” (Hebrews 8, verse 3) — not for himself; for how did he offer himself? — but for the people. What are you saying? Is he able to do this? “Yes,” he says, “for the law appoints men as high priests who have weakness” (Hebrews 7, verse 28). And does he not need to offer for himself? “No,” he says. So that you may not suppose that the words “this he did once for all” are said of himself as well, hear what he says: “For the law appoints men as high priests who have weakness.” That is why they offer continually, and for themselves. But he who is mighty, he who has no sin — why should he offer for himself, or offer many times for others?

“But the word of the oath, which came after the law, appoints the Son, who has been consecrated forever.” “Consecrated” — what is that? Paul does not set down the usual opposite terms. After saying “who have weakness,” he did not say “the Son, who is mighty,” but “consecrated” — that is, mighty, as one might say. You see that the name “Son” is used in contrast to that of servant. And by “weakness” he means either sin or death.

What does “forever” mean? Not only without sin now, but always. If, then, he is perfect, if he never sins, if he lives forever, why should he offer many sacrifices for us? But for the present he does not press this point hard. What he does press hard is that he does not offer on his own behalf.

Since, then, we have such a High Priest, let us imitate him; let us walk in his footsteps. There is no other sacrifice. One alone has cleansed us, and after this, fire and hell. That is why he repeats it again and again — “one Priest,” “one sacrifice” — so that no one, supposing there are many sacrifices, should sin without fear. Let all of us, then, who have been counted worthy of the seal, all who have enjoyed the sacrifice, all who have shared in the immortal table, go on guarding our noble birth and our dignity, for falling away is not without danger. [m]

And those who have not yet been counted worthy of these things — let them not be confident on that account either. When someone goes on sinning with the idea of receiving holy baptism at his last gasp, he often does not obtain it. And believe me, I do not say what I am about to say to frighten you. I have myself known many people to whom this happened: in the expectation of being enlightened they sinned much, and on the day of their death they went away empty. God gave us baptism for this reason, to do away with our sins, not to increase them. But if anyone has used it as a guarantee for sinning more, it becomes a cause of carelessness. If there had been no washing, people would have lived more cautiously, as having no means of forgiveness. You see that it is we who cause it to be said, “Let us do evil, so that good may come” (Romans 3, verse 8).

That is why I urge you as well, you who are not yet initiated: be sober. Let no one pursue virtue like a hired hand, no one like a senseless person, no one as though it were something heavy and burdensome. Let us pursue it, then, with a ready mind and with joy. For if there were no reward laid up, ought we not still to be good? Yet even with a reward, let us at least become good. And how is this anything other than a disgrace and a very great condemnation? “Unless you give me a reward,” someone says, “I will not practice self-control.” Then I will dare to say something: you will never be self-controlled, not even when you live with self-control, if you do it for a reward. You do not value virtue at all if you do not love it. But because of our great weakness, God was willing for a time that it should be practiced even for a reward — and not even so do we pursue it.

But let us suppose, if you like, that a man who has done countless evil things dies after being counted worthy of baptism — though I do not think that happens easily. Tell me, how will he depart to the other world? He will not be called to account for the deeds he had done, but he will go without confidence, as is only to be expected. When, after living a hundred years, he has no good work to show, but only that he has not sinned — or rather not even that, but only that he was saved by grace only — and when he sees others crowned, in splendor, and highly honored, then even if he does not fall into hell, tell me, will he bear his dejection?

To make the matter clear by an example, suppose there are two soldiers. One of them steals, does harm, and cheats; the other does none of these things, but plays the part of a brave man, does great deeds well, sets up trophies in war, and stains his right hand with blood. Then, when the time comes, suppose that this second man — from the same rank the thief was in — is at once led up to the imperial throne and the purple. And suppose that the other stays where he was, and merely by the king’s kindness does not pay the penalty for his deeds, but is put in the last place and stationed under the king. Tell me, will he be able to bear his despair when he sees the man who once stood in the same rank with him risen to the very highest honors, made so glorious, and master of the world, while he himself still stays below, and has not even been freed from punishment with honor, but only through the grace and kindness of the king? [n]

Even if the king forgives him and releases him from the charges against him, he will still live in shame. Certainly no one else will admire him, for in a pardon like that we admire not those who receive the gifts but those who give them. And the greater the gifts, the more ashamed are those who receive them, when their offenses were great. With what eyes, then, will such a man be able to look at those in the king’s courts, when they display their sweat beyond counting and their wounds, while he has nothing to show, but owes his very salvation to nothing but God’s love for humankind? It is as if someone begged off a murderer, a thief, or an adulterer who was about to be arrested, and ordered him to stay at the entrance of the king’s palace: afterward he will not be able to look anyone in the face, although he has been set free from punishment. So it surely is with this man.

Do not suppose, I beg you, that because it is called a palace, everyone in it attains the same things. If here in the courts of kings there is the prefect, and all who attend the king, and also those in very low positions who hold the place of what are called the decani — and the distance between the prefect and the decanus is so great — much more will it be so in the royal court above.

And I do not say this on my own authority. Paul lays down another difference, even greater than these. As many differences as there are, he says, between the sun and the moon and the stars and the very smallest star, so many are there also among those in the kingdom of heaven. And it is plain to everyone that the difference between the sun and the smallest star is far greater than the one between the decanus, as he is called, and the prefect. For while the sun shines on the whole world at once and makes it bright, and hides the moon and the stars, the smallest star often does not appear even in the dark; there are many stars we do not see. When, then, we see others become suns, while we hold the rank of the very smallest stars, which cannot even be seen, what comfort will we have?

Let us not, I beg you — let us not be so lazy, so sluggish. Let us not barter away God’s salvation for an easy life; let us trade with it and increase it. Even if someone is a catechumen, he still knows Christ, he still understands the faith, he still hears the divine words, he is still not far from knowledge; he knows his Lord’s will. Why, then, does he put it off? Why does he delay and postpone? Nothing is better than a good life, whether here or there, whether for the enlightened or for the catechumens.

For tell me, what burdensome command have we been given? “Have a wife,” it says, “and be chaste.” Is this hard? How can it be, when many — not only Christians but pagans too — live chastely without a wife? What the pagan goes beyond for the sake of empty glory, you do not keep even for the fear of God. [o]

“Give to the poor,” he says, “out of what you have.” Is this burdensome? Here too the pagans condemn us, who have emptied out all their possessions for empty glory alone.

“Use no filthy talk.” Is this hard? Even if it had not been commanded, ought we not to have done right in this, so as not to look degraded? That the opposite conduct — I mean filthy talk — is the troublesome thing is plain from the fact that the soul is ashamed and blushes if it has been led into saying anything of the kind, and would not say it unless perhaps it were drunk. For when you sit in a public place — even if you do it at home — why do you not do it there? Because of the people present. Why are you not quick to do the same in front of your wife? So as not to insult her. So you refrain so as not to insult your wife — and do you not blush to insult God? For he is present everywhere and hears all things.

“Do not be drunk,” he says. Is not this very thing, in itself, a punishment? He did not say, “Put your body on the rack.” What, then? Do not give it free rein so as to take away the authority of the mind; on the contrary, “make no provision for its cravings” (Romans 13, verse 14). “Do not seize by violence what is not your own,” he says; “do not cheat; do not swear falsely.” What labors these things require! What sweat!

“Speak evil of no one,” he says, “and do not accuse falsely.” It is the opposite that is a labor. When you have spoken ill of someone, at once you are in danger, in suspicion, asking, “Did the man I spoke about hear?” — whether he is great or small. If he is a great man, you will at once be in danger; and if he is small, he will pay you back as much, or rather with something far worse, for he will speak evil of you even more.

Nothing hard, nothing burdensome is commanded us, if we have the will. And if we do not have the will, even the easiest things will seem burdensome to us. What is easier than eating? Yet out of great softness many feel disgust even at this, and I hear many say that even eating is a weariness. None of these things is wearisome if only you have the will. For everything depends on the will, after the grace from above. Let us, then, will good things, so that we may also attain the eternal good things, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, and honor, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.