Homily 17 — Hebrews 9, verse 24, to 10, verse 7

“For Christ has not entered into holy places made with hands, which are figures of the true ones, but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us. Nor was it so that he should offer himself often, as the high priest enters the Holy Place every year with the blood of others; for then he would have had to suffer often since the foundation of the world. But now, once, at the end of the world, he has appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself.” [a]

The Jews took enormous pride in the temple and the tabernacle. That is why they said, “The temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord” (Jeremiah 7, verse 4). Nowhere else on earth was a temple built like this one, whether for costliness, or for beauty, or for anything else. God, who ordained it, commanded that it be made with great magnificence, because the people were more drawn and urged on by material things. It had bricks of gold in its walls. Anyone who wishes can learn this in the second book of Kings and in Ezekiel, and how many talents of gold were spent on it then.

But the second temple was a still more glorious building, both for its beauty and in every other respect. Nor was it revered for this reason only, but also because it was the only one. People used to come to it from the farthest parts of the earth, from Babylon or from Ethiopia. Luke shows this when he says in the Acts, “There were living there Parthians and Medes and Elamites, and those who live in Mesopotamia, in Judea and Cappadocia, in Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, in Egypt and the parts of Libya around Cyrene” (Acts 2, verses 5, 9 and 10). So those who lived in every part of the world gathered there, and the fame of the temple was great.

What, then, does Paul do? He does here what he did with the sacrifices. There he set the death of Christ against them; so here too he sets the whole of heaven against the temple.

And he did not point out the difference by this alone, but also by adding that this Priest is nearer to God, for he says, “to appear in the presence of God.” So he made the matter majestic not only by speaking of heaven, but also by speaking of Christ’s entering in there. For it is not merely through symbols, as here, but there he sees God himself. Do you see that the lowly things have been said all through, by way of stooping down to meet us? Why, then, are you still surprised that he intercedes there, where he places himself as high priest? “Nor was it so that he should offer himself often, as the high priest.” [d]

“For Christ has not entered into holy places made with hands,” he says, “which are figures of the true ones.” So these are the true things, and those were figures; for the temple too was arranged in the likeness of the heaven of heavens.

What are you saying? He who is present everywhere and fills all things, does he not “appear” unless he enters heaven? You see that all these things belong to the flesh.

“To appear,” he says, “in the presence of God for us.” What does “for us” mean? He means that he went up with a sacrifice that had the power to appease the Father. Why, tell me? Was he an enemy? The angels were enemies; he was not an enemy. For hear what Paul says to show that the angels were enemies: “He made peace with the things on earth and the things in heaven” (Colossians 1, verse 20). So he also “entered into heaven, now to appear in the presence of God for us.” He “now appears,” but it is “for us.”

“Nor was it so that he should offer himself often, as the high priest enters the Holy Place every year with the blood of others.” Do you see how many the differences are? “Often” against “once”; “the blood of others” against “his own.” The distance is great. He himself, then, is victim and priest and sacrifice. If it had not been so, and many sacrifices had been needed, he would have had to be crucified many times. “For then,” he says, “he would have had to suffer often since the foundation of the world.”

In this place he has also hinted at something under a veil: “But now, once, at the end of the world.” Why “at the end of the world”? After the many sins. If it had happened at the beginning, no one would have believed; and since he could not die a second time, everything would have been useless. But because later there were many transgressions, it was with good reason that he appeared then. He says this in another place too: “Where sin abounded, grace abounded much more” (Romans 5, verse 20). “But now, once, at the end of the world, he has appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself.”

Verse 27: “And as it is appointed for men to die once, and after this the judgment.” Next he also says why he died only once: because he became a ransom by one death. “It has been appointed,” he says, “for men to die once.” This, then, is the meaning of “he died once,” for all. [f]

What then? Do we no longer die that death? We do die, but we do not remain in it, and that is not to die at all. For the tyranny of death, and real death, is when the one who dies is never again allowed to come back to life. But when after dying there is living, and a better life at that, this is not death but sleep. Since, then, death was going to take possession of everyone, he died to set us free.

Verse 28: “So Christ was offered once.” Offered by whom? Plainly, by himself. Here he says that he is not priest only, but victim too, the thing that is sacrificed. That is why the words are “was offered.” “He was offered once,” he says, “to bear the sins of many.” Why “of many,” and not “of all”? Because not all believed. He died for all; that was his part, for that death was a counterweight against the destruction of all people. But he did not bear the sins of all, because they were not willing.

And what does “he bore the sins” mean? It is just as in the offering, when we bear up our sins and say, “Whether we have sinned willingly or unwillingly, forgive us.” That is, we mention them first and then ask for their forgiveness. That is what was done here. Where has Christ done this? Hear him say it himself: “And for their sakes I consecrate myself” (John 17, verse 19). See, he bore the sins. He took them from men and bore them to the Father, not to pass any sentence against humankind, but to forgive them.

“To those who wait for him,” he says, “he will appear a second time, without sin, for salvation.” What does “without sin” mean? It is the same as saying, he does not sin. For he did not die as one who owed the debt of death, nor because of sin. But how “will he appear”? To punish, you say. But he did not say that. He said something cheering: “he will appear to those who wait for him, without sin, for salvation.” So from now on they no longer need sacrifices to save themselves, but must do it by their deeds.

Chapter 10, verse 1: “For the law,” he says, “having a shadow of the good things to come, not the very image of the things” — that is, not the reality itself. In painting, as long as you have only drawn the outlines, it is a kind of “shadow”; but when you have added the bright paints and laid on the colors, then it becomes “an image.” The law was something like this. [g]

“For the law,” he says, “having a shadow of the good things to come, not the very image of the things” — that is, of the sacrifice, of the forgiveness — “can never, by those sacrifices which they offered continually, make perfect those who come to them.” Verses 2 to 9: “Otherwise, would they not have stopped being offered, since the worshipers, once cleansed, would have had no more consciousness of sins? But in those sacrifices a remembrance of sins is made again every year. For it is not possible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins. That is why, when he comes into the world, he says, ‘Sacrifice and offering you did not want, but a body you have prepared for me. In burnt offerings and sacrifices for sin you have taken no pleasure. Then I said, Look, I have come — in the scroll of the book it is written of me — to do your will, O God.’ When he said above, ‘Sacrifice and offering and burnt offerings and offerings for sin you did not want, nor did you take pleasure in them’ — which are offered according to the law — then he said, ‘Look, I have come to do your will, O God.’ He takes away the first so that he may establish the second.”

Do you see again how abundant his proofs are? This sacrifice, he says, is one, while the others were many; and they had no strength precisely because they were many. Tell me, what need was there of many, if one had been enough? So the fact that they were many, and offered “continually,” proves that the worshipers were never made clean.

Think of a medicine. When it is powerful and brings health, able to remove the disease entirely, it does everything with one application. If it accomplishes the whole cure by being applied once, it proves its strength by not being applied again; that is its whole business, to need no second application. But if it is applied continually, that is plain proof that it has no strength. For the excellence of a medicine is to be applied once, and not often. So it is in this case too. Why, then, are they continually being treated with “the same sacrifices”? If they had been set free from all their sins, the sacrifices would not have gone on being offered every day. They had been appointed to be offered continually on behalf of the whole people, both in the evening and in the daytime.

So there was an indictment of sins, and not a release from sins; an indictment of weakness, not a display of strength. Because the first sacrifice had no strength, another was offered too; and since this accomplished nothing, yet another; so that it was an evidence of sins. The “offering,” then, was an evidence of sins; the “continually,” an evidence of weakness. But with Christ it was the opposite: he was “offered once.”

The types, therefore, contain the shape only, not the power, just as with images: the image has the shape of the man, not his power. So the reality and the type have something in common with each other. The shape exists equally in both, but not the power. So too with heaven and the tabernacle: the shape was the same, for there was the Holy of Holies there; but the power and the other things were not the same.

What is meant by “He has appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself”? What is this “putting away”? It is making sin a thing of no account. For sin no longer has any boldness. It has been made powerless, in that when it ought to have demanded punishment, it did not demand it; that is, it suffered violence. When it expected to destroy everyone, then it was itself destroyed.

“He has appeared by the sacrifice of himself,” he says; that is, he has appeared before God and drawn near to him. For do not think, because the high priest used to do this often in the year … So from now on this is done in vain, even though it is still done; for what need is there of medicines where there are no wounds? That is why he ordained offerings “continually”: because they had no power, and so that a remembrance of sins might be made.

What then? Do we not offer every day? We do offer, but we do it making a remembrance of his death, and this remembrance is one, not many. How is it one and not many? Because that sacrifice was offered once for all, and carried into the Holy of Holies. This is a figure of that sacrifice, and this a remembrance of that one. For we always offer the same one: not one sheep now and another tomorrow, but always the same thing. So the sacrifice is one.

And yet, by this reasoning, since the offering is made in many places, are there many Christs? No: Christ is one everywhere, complete here and complete there too, one body. Just as he is one body and not many bodies, though offered in many places, so he is also one sacrifice. He is our High Priest, who offered the sacrifice that cleanses us. What was offered then, we offer now too, and it can never be used up. This is done in remembrance of what was done then; for he says, “Do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22, verse 19). It is not another sacrifice, as with the high priest; we always offer the same one, or rather, we make a remembrance of a sacrifice.

But since I have mentioned this sacrifice, I want to say a little to you who have been initiated. It is little in quantity, but it has great force and benefit, for it is not our own word but the words of the divine Spirit. What is it, then? Many share in this sacrifice once in the whole year; others twice; others many times. So our word is for all of them — not only for those who are here, but also for those who live in the desert. For they share in it once a year, and often only once in two years. [j]

What then? Which shall we approve? Those who receive once a year? Those who receive many times? Those who receive a few times? Neither those who receive once, nor those who receive often, nor those who receive seldom, but those who come with a pure conscience, from a pure heart, with a life no one can fault. Let people like that come near continually; but those who are not like that, not even once. Why, you will ask? Because they receive judgment on themselves, yes, and condemnation, and punishment, and vengeance.

And do not be surprised. Food is nourishing by nature, but if a person with no appetite takes it, it ruins and corrupts the whole body and becomes the occasion of disease. Surely it is the same with the awe-inspiring mysteries. Do you feast at a spiritual table, a royal table, and then defile your mouth with mud again? Do you anoint yourself with sweet perfume, and then fill yourself with a stench again?

Tell me, I beg you: when you come to Communion after a whole year, do you think the Forty Days are enough to purify you of the sins of all that time? And then, when a week has passed, do you give yourself up again to the same old things? Tell me now: if you had been well for forty days after a long illness, and then gave yourself up again to the food that caused the sickness, would you not have lost even the effort you had already made? For if natural things can change, much more can the things that depend on our choice. For instance, by nature we see, and by nature we have healthy eyes; yet often a bad habit damages our power of sight. If, then, natural things change, much more do the things of choice. You set aside forty days for the health of your soul, or perhaps not even forty, and you expect to appease God? Tell me, are you joking?

I say these things not to forbid you to come once a year, but because I want you to come near continually.

These things are given to the holy. The deacon proclaims this too when he calls on the holy, and by that very call he searches out the faults of everyone. In a flock, many sheep are healthy, but many are covered with mange, and the diseased must be separated from the healthy. So it is in the church too. Some sheep are healthy and some are diseased, and by this cry he separates the one from the other — the priest, I mean, going round on every side with this most awe-inspiring cry, calling and drawing the holy forward. [k]

For it is not possible for one person to know what is in his neighbor — “For what man,” he says, “knows the things of a man, except the spirit of the man that is in him?” (First Corinthians 2, verse 11). So he utters this cry after the whole sacrifice has been completed, so that no one may come to the spiritual spring carelessly and at random. For in the flock too — nothing stops us from using the same example again — we shut the sick sheep up inside and keep them in the dark, and give them different food, and do not let them have pure air, or ordinary grass, or the spring outside the fold. In this case too, then, this cry takes the place of chains.

You cannot say, “I did not know. I was not aware that there was danger in this.” No; Paul above all testified to it. But will you say, “I never read it”? That is not a defense; it is an accusation. Do you come into church every day and still not know this? But so that you may not have even this excuse to offer, he cries out with a loud voice, with an awe-inspiring cry, like a herald lifting his hand on high. He stands up high where all can see him, and after that awe-inspiring silence he calls out aloud, inviting some and forbidding others. He does not do it with his hand, but with his tongue, more plainly than with his hand. For that cry falls on our ears just like a hand: it thrusts away and drives out some, and brings in and presents others.

Tell me, I beg you, at the Olympic Games does the herald not stand and call out with a loud, raised voice, “Does anyone accuse this man? Is he a slave? Is he a thief? Is he a man of wicked character?” And yet those contests for prizes are not contests of the soul, or of good character, but of strength and of the body. If, then, where bodies are being trained, so much inquiry is made into character, how much more here, where the soul alone is the contestant!

Our herald, then, stands even now. He does not hold each person by the head and lead him forward; he holds all of them together by the head, within. He does not set other accusers against them, but sets them against themselves. For he does not say, “Does anyone accuse this man?” What, then? “If anyone accuses himself.” When he says, “Holy things for the holy,” this is what he means: “If anyone is not holy, let him not come near.”

He does not simply say “free from sins,” but “holy.” For it is not merely freedom from sins that makes a person holy, but also the presence of the Spirit and a wealth of good works. I do not merely want you to be pulled out of the mud, he says; I want you to be bright and beautiful too. If the king of Babylon, when he chose young men from among the captives, chose those who were handsome in form and fair of face, much more must we, when we stand beside the royal table, be beautiful in form — the form of the soul, I mean — with an adornment of gold, our robe clean, our shoes royal, the face of our soul well shaped, and the golden ornament fastened around it, the belt of truth. Let someone like this come near and touch the royal cups.

But if anyone dressed in rags, filthy and squalid, wants to come in to the royal table, think how much he will suffer. The forty days are not enough to wash away the offenses committed in all that time. For if hell is not enough, though it is eternal — indeed, that is why it is eternal — much less will this short time be enough. For we have not shown a strong repentance, but a weak one.

Eunuchs above all ought to stand beside the King. By eunuchs I mean those who are clear in mind, having no wrinkle or spot; lofty in mind, with the eye of the soul gentle and quick to see, active and sharp, not sleepy or sluggish; full of great freedom, yet far from impudence and overboldness; wakeful, healthy; neither very gloomy and downcast, nor loose and soft. [n]

It is in our own power to make this eye, and to make it quick to see and beautiful. When we turn it, not to the smoke or the dust — for all human things are like that — but to the gentle breeze, to the light air, to things heavenly and high, full of great calm and purity and great delight, we will quickly restore it and strengthen it, as it takes its joy in such things to look upon.

Have you seen greed and great wealth? Do not lift your eye toward it. The thing is mud; it is smoke, an evil vapor, darkness, great distress and choking worries. Have you seen a man who practices righteousness, content with his own, with plenty of room for rest, free from anxieties, not fixing his thoughts on the things here? Set your eye there, and lift it up on high, and you will make it by far the most beautiful and splendid, feasting it not on the flowers of the earth but on the flowers of virtue: on self-control, on moderation, and on all the rest.

For nothing troubles the eye so much as an evil conscience — “My eye,” it says, “was troubled by anger” (Psalm 6, verse 7) — and nothing darkens it so much. Set it free from this injury, and you will make it vigorous and strong, always nourished with good hopes. And may we all make both this eye and the other powers of the soul such as Christ desires, so that, being made worthy of the Head who is set over us, we may go away to the place where he wishes. For he says, “I desire that where I am, they also may be with me, so that they may see my glory” (John 17, verse 24). May we all enjoy this 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.