Having therefore, brethren, boldness for entering into the [holy of] holies by the blood of Jesus,
The letter to the Hebrews has been building toward this sentence: one sacrifice has settled the question of sin, and the door into God's presence now stands open. The whole weight of it rests on four words — "by the blood of Jesus."
The verse opens by looking back. Its "therefore" rests on the full forgiveness described just before it.
Under the Old Testament the Jews did not know this full forgiveness. They received a kind of pardon for each sin they committed. But the veil shut them out of the holiest. It hung in front of the place where God revealed Himself... Then came the real work that all these things pictured: the death of the Saviour. The veil of the temple tore in two from top to bottom. Now, on the strength of the work of Christ and the forgiveness of our sins, we are urged to draw near.
The design of the old tabernacle was itself a message.
What did it all mean? It certainly pointed forward to the blood of Christ as the only ground of approach to God. Yet through the whole arrangement the Holy Spirit was saying something else: in the old system there was no real approach to God at all. The way in was not yet made known... as long as the first tabernacle still had its standing before God, the rule was: no admittance.
The word translated "boldness" is about speech. It means having nothing left to hide.
The word for boldness means "all speech" — speaking everything, no concealment, perfect liberty. We do not come as people who hold something back in mind or heart. We do not come hiding things we have never brought into the light of His presence, things we would be afraid to have brought out... What possibility of concealment is there in His holy presence? Yet we have boldness, we have all speech, to enter His sanctuary by Christ's precious blood!
Everything depends on what gives the right of entry.
Suppose we claimed boldness to enter there because of our love or holiness, our new nature, or even a ceremony God Himself gave. That would be sheer and shameless presumption. Yet here it is calmly claimed for Christians. They are urged in the strongest terms to approach God's presence by faith, without a doubt or a cloud, now that their sins are gone. Boldness to enter there is due to the blood of Jesus. Only unbelief hinders.
Ridout puts the same test in personal terms:
Do I have boldness to draw near to God on the ground that I have known Him for many years? Or that I have had a happy past experience? Or that I have been serving the Lord faithfully and have honoured Him? No — by the blood of Jesus. That precious blood, which has glorified God, is our only title to enter there.
Where the ESV says "the holy places," older translations say "the holiest" — the inner room, and so God's own presence itself. The verse treats entry there as something we already have.
Remember, this is not about entering a place or temple of worship on earth. It is really the holiest of all, the very presence of God in heaven. Now then, reader, does the blood of Jesus give you boldness to enter? Or do you need something else? Whatever it is, it would deny the eternal value of that one sacrifice. It is not that we hope to have it. We have it now: "since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus."
The first readers knew a system where even the high priest had no such freedom:
No Jew, not even the high priest, had boldness to enter the holiest made with hands. We have boldness to enter the holiest not made with hands — in spirit now, and in actual presence when the Lord comes. A converted Hebrew reading this would say to himself at once: we are made priests, in a far higher sense than Aaron's family ever were. He would be right!
If every believer may enter, no human go-between is needed.
This chapter also ruled out the idea of a sacrificing priesthood down here, standing between me and God. The work of Christ has given us our position: direct access to God in full confidence.
- Blood — the cause. The way is open for one reason: the blood of Jesus. To add our love, holiness, experience or service is "shameless presumption."
- Blood — the gift. The old system said "no admittance." Now we have boldness — "all speech," nothing hidden, nothing feared.
- Blood — the reach. It brings us not to a building but into the very presence of God in heaven, and it does so now, not one day.
- Blood — the rank. Every believer is made a priest in a higher sense than Aaron's family ever were.
- Blood — the result. Access is direct, so no human priest stands between the believer and God. Only unbelief keeps anyone outside.
the new and living way which he has dedicated for us through the veil, that is, his flesh,
This verse names the road that brings believers into God's presence. It is new, it is living, and Christ Himself opened it. Two questions follow. Why call the way living when a death opened it? And what does it mean that the curtain is the body of the One who leads us in?
The word "new" here has a literal sense that points straight to a sacrifice.
The verse calls it "a new and living way." Literally it means "a newly slaughtered way." It rests on the offering of a recent sacrifice, the sacrifice of Christ. In that way He has opened a way in for us "through the veil, that is to say His flesh." Even now, so long after that sacrifice, it still holds its power, still "a newly slaughtered way."
A death opened this way, yet it is called living. That reverses how things stood under the law.
Under the law, for anyone to draw near to the presence of God was death; under Christ, it is death to stay away. What a wonderful contrast! Under the law, fire came out from the sanctuary and struck down anyone who dared to draw near. Through the work of Christ we now draw near, and the way is a way of life. The nearer we live to our blessed God, the more we will know the strength, freshness and energy of that life. We draw it from a divine source.
The curtain, or veil, shut off the innermost room of the tabernacle — Israel's tent of worship. It stood for the human life of Christ on earth. His sinless Manhood is what kept the way closed.
The veil separated the two holy places, and it is explained for us here: "that is to say, His flesh." His perfect Manhood was an absolute barrier to man's entrance into God's presence. In that blessed Manhood of Christ, God had shown that only perfection satisfied Him. But the death of Christ — the tearing of the veil from top to bottom — is the wonderful work that opens the way into God's presence for sinners.
But what remains of that veil now that Christ is risen?
A crucified Christ is the torn veil through which we draw near to God. The marks of the tearing will always remain. In the risen Lord we have the memorial of His finished work and the witness of His perfect humanity, all there — not as a barrier to the soul, but as the very way of access to God.
When the temple curtain split at the death of Jesus, movement began in both directions at once.
In the tabernacle God was shut up within the veil. On His part there was no coming out, and on man's part there was no going in… On the cross this veil was torn. The death of Christ was the tearing of the veil… God has come out to man in perfect love, and now man can go in to God by that way which has been dedicated through the veil… So not only are our consciences purged; our hearts are won too. God's presence, which we so much dreaded, has become our eternal home, and nowhere in the universe are we so welcome.
Commentators differ over how closely the torn temple curtain fits this verse. One writer draws a distinction between the two buildings.
The verse says the way is "through the veil, that is, His flesh," meaning His Manhood. It is by becoming man He has opened the way for us into the presence of God. Both revelation and approach are complete in Him… The tearing of the veil of the Temple when He died pictures God coming out in revelation in Him. The veil of the Tabernacle shows more of our going in to God. That is the building this letter has in view, not the Temple.
The verb translated "consecrated" in older versions carries the sense of opening something for use.
The other reference is in Hebrews 10:20, where it is rendered in the Authorised Version as "consecrated," but is actually the word "dedicated," and is so translated by J. N. Darby.
A way opened at that price puts a question to everyone who hears about it.
The death of our Substitute has become the way of life and blessing to us, the way to God. It has removed our sins and met the question of our sinful nature… We can draw near with a true heart and full assurance of faith, by a new and living way, which He has dedicated for us. What a word that is! Shall we be indifferent to, and despise, a way that He has dedicated for us at such a cost?
- Newly slain. The way is "new" in the sense of freshly sacrificed. Time has not weakened its power.
- Newly living. The same death that opened it makes it a way of life. Under the law, drawing near meant death. Now staying away does.
- Newly opened. The curtain is His flesh. His perfect Manhood barred the way in, until His death tore that barrier apart.
- Newly dedicated. He dedicated the way for us Himself, and at great cost.
- Newly welcomed. God has come out in love and man goes in — the presence once dreaded becomes the place where we are most welcome.
and [having] a great priest over the house of God,
Hebrews 10 has just said the way into God's presence stands open through the blood of Jesus. Now it adds another ground of confidence: not only a way in, but a Person set over God's household. Two questions follow. Why does it say "great priest" and not high priest? And what is "the house of God"?
One writer ties this title to the new standing of the worshippers themselves.
It is literally a great Priest over the house of God, or "great High Priest," as we have it in the fourth chapter. The worshippers themselves now enter the privileged place of the High Priest. In this respect they take the standing of high priests, not simply of priests entering the holy place. So they need a great Priest — one who is over the house, even over them. This must not be forgotten. We are not priests in our own right, and we have no right of our own to move freely in the house — everything hangs on the great Priest.
His greatness also sets Him apart from the old priestly line that came from Aaron, Israel's first high priest.
We next read of the One who represents us in the sanctuary before God — a great Priest, as He is called. He is Priest after the order of Melchizedek, and so far surpasses Aaron or any of his line.
"House" here is not a building but people — and the letter has already named them.
In verse 21 He is called, not a High Priest, but a "Great Priest over the house of God." Earlier in the letter we read of Him as both Priest and Son, and then it added, "and we are His house" (Hebrews 3:6). We are God's house, God's priestly family. Over us is this Great Priest, the Lord Jesus Christ, and we have full access to God.
That relationship also fixes where His priesthood operates.
Moses was faithful in God's house in the wilderness as a servant. Christ is over God's House — made up of God's people — as Son. So presenting the people of God as the House of God shows where Christ exercises His priesthood.
The blood opens the way. But an open way alone would leave the worshipper uneasy about staying there, so verse 21 adds a third ground of confidence.
Verse 21 gives a third encouragement to enjoy this access in practice. Without it all the rest would be in vain. We could never feel at ease in God's most holy presence without knowing one thing. He who is the living way of our access is Himself in that presence for ever as the ministering Priest. His constant intercession is the power that sustains His people's hope.
One writer sets two works of Christ side by side: one finished, one still going on.
His finished work on the Cross gives us boldness to draw near. His unfinished work, His present priestly service, lets us stand with confidence before our God and Father as glad worshippers. So even now our offerings of praise through Him may be more and more abundant, though the darkness deepens in the Christian world.
Our own weakness, then, is not what decides whether we may come.
In heaven itself Christ now appears before the face of God for us. Through His sacrifice we no longer have any consciousness of sins, and He is there as the proof that we are perfected without a break. He is above to maintain us, despite our weakness and exposure here, according to the cleansing of His blood and the nearness it gives to those who believe.
If Christ holds this position, no one else can hold it. One writer applies that to drawing near through a human priest.
To draw near through any man-appointed leader or priest is to ignore the priesthood of our Lord Jesus Christ… It is true that all who are living stones in the spiritual house, of which Christ is the Cornerstone, are also "a holy priesthood." He has washed them from their sins in His blood and made them "priests to His God and Father" (Rev. 1:6). But there is no other High Priest but Himself.
- Priest. "Great" sets Him above Aaron's whole line; He serves after the order of Melchizedek.
- House. The house is not a building but God's people. Christ is over it as Son; Moses only served inside it as a servant.
- Ground. The blood opens the way; the great Priest keeps us at ease in it. Without Him, the rest would be wasted.
- Keeping. His finished work gives boldness to enter; His continuing service keeps us there, weak as we are.
- Result. He alone is Priest over the house. So every believer draws near directly, and putting a human priest in His place sets Him aside.
let us approach with a true heart, in full assurance of faith, sprinkled as to our hearts from a wicked conscience, and washed as to our body with pure water.
This verse is the first appeal that follows the long argument about Christ's one sacrifice. It answers a question no Israelite could answer: on what terms may a person come right into God's presence?
The call to draw near rests on what comes before it. And that argument says nothing about anything we have done.
This is the first exhortation founded on the teaching about the sacrificial service of our High Priest, and it is a most significant one. For we have read nothing of what Christians have done, or could do, to entitle them to such an invitation. The whole teaching of the section (7:26 — 10:18) has been about the Lord Jesus, and what He has done and has suffered. Now the blessed consequence to believers is that they have boldness to enter the Holiest by His blood. They have done nothing towards this. They could do nothing... All boasting is for ever silenced as we read that we have this boldness only by (or in virtue of) the blood of Jesus.
Israel's high priest entered the innermost room of the tabernacle under warning of death. That memory sharpens the invitation here.
Aaron entered the holiest with fear and trembling. God gave Moses the words "that he die not" (Lev. 16:2, 13) to pass on to Aaron. How different it is now! We have "boldness to enter the holiest by the blood of Jesus." Answering to the picture of the consecration of the priests, we have "our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience, and our bodies washed with pure water." We are not shut out of the holiest, the immediate presence of God. We are urged to "draw near with a true heart, and in full assurance of faith."
A true heart is not a heart confident in itself.
And what is a true heart? A heart that knows and believes that in itself it is utterly untrue and not to be trusted. In Luke 8:15 we read of the "honest and good heart." That is a heart which believes what God says about the heart of man: it is "deceitful above all things, and desperately sick" (Jer. 17:9). It comes to God without trying to shield itself.
Another writer describes it as a heart "that has no reserves from God, but has exposed its inmost secrets in the light of His presence" (Edward Dennett).
Both phrases in the first half of the verse describe the state we should be in.
These two things are what we may call the necessary moral qualifications which we ought to have. We may be converted. But full assurance in our minds comes from a simple faith in the work of Christ, and in the witness of the Holy Spirit that the question of our sins is fully settled. Without that assurance we cannot enjoy the presence of God. Nor can we enjoy it unless our hearts are true — that is, marked by sincerity under the influence of the truth, and without deceit.
One writer separates two things in the verse: what qualifies us to enter, and the state we must be in.
This scripture holds two things — the qualification, and the condition for "drawing near"; that is, for entering the holiest to worship... Our hearts, in the first place, must be sprinkled clean from an evil conscience. This clearly points to the power of the blood of Christ, which leaves the believer with no more conscience of sins (v. 2). By His one offering He has perfected for ever those who are sanctified (v. 14).
One ceremony lies behind both halves of the verse. At their consecration the priests were washed as well as sprinkled (Exodus 29). The washing pictures the new birth.
The "body washed with pure water" refers to what was done at the consecration of the priests (Ex. 29:4). It answers to "the washing of regeneration" (Titus 3:5): the word of God brings us out of a world in open rebellion against God, and into whole-hearted allegiance to the Son of His love. Baptism expresses this spiritual reality outwardly. But "the washing of regeneration" is not baptism. Baptism is the mere shadow, and not the substance.
Blood and water come from one source.
They had the shadow, we have the substance — THE DEATH OF CHRIST. It works in two directions. As BLOOD it cleanses us judicially and gives us a perfect standing before God. As WATER it cleanses us morally, cutting us off from the old life we once lived and bringing us into the new.
- Ground: Our boldness to enter rests on the blood of Jesus alone. Nothing we have done adds to it, so all boasting is silenced.
- Title: Two things qualify a worshipper. The blood sprinkles the heart, so there is no more conscience of sins. The washing pictures the new birth.
- State: Two things must match that title. A true heart keeps nothing back from God. Full assurance rests on Christ's work and the Spirit's witness.
- Contrast: Aaron entered under the warning "that he die not." We are urged to come in with boldness.
- Response: One death supplies both the blood that clears the conscience and the water that cuts us off from the old life. The only fitting answer is to draw near.
Let us hold fast the confession of the hope unwavering, (for he [is] faithful who has promised;)
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
and let us consider one another for provoking to love and good works;
This verse closes a long argument. Christ has opened the way into God's presence, and now the writer turns our eyes sideways — to each other — with a task that sounds odd at first: to stir others up, or as older translations put it, to provoke.
The order matters. The believer settles everything with Christ first. Only then does attention move to fellow Christians.
Now he urges, "Let us consider one another to stir up love and good works." All this time the eye has been on Christ… Notice it comes at the close, not at the beginning. You cannot get your salvation from your fellow Christians, or your assurance. You cannot get your freedom to worship from them, or your perseverance to the end. Keep your eye fixed on Christ alone for all these things. Once you have all that in your soul, settled there by the Spirit of God, you can turn your eye to your fellow believers.
The same order protects "good works" from being misunderstood as a way of earning anything.
Provoking to love and good works is done by showing such character cheerfully in our own lives, and encouraging others in such things. But let us notice that good works are not considered until after the great work of the Lord Jesus is seen to be the only resting place of the soul, the only real foundation of blessing. After that, good works have their true, real value, as a proper result of the knowledge of eternal salvation.
Once God has met every personal need, self-attention becomes pointless.
The grace of God has so richly met all our personal need… an opened heaven — a torn curtain — a crowned and seated Saviour — a great High Priest — a perfectly cleansed conscience — boldness to enter — a hearty welcome. We have all these marvellous blessings in full possession. So what have we got to do? Consider ourselves? No indeed; that would be unnecessary and sinfully selfish. We could not possibly do as well for ourselves as God has done for us… What remains? Simply to "consider one another"… to be on the lookout for opportunities of doing good; to seek in a thousand little ways to make hearts glad.
Considering can easily turn into inspection.
Sadly, too often we provoke one another to hard and bitter thoughts, by fault-finding and unkind, perhaps even unfair, criticism. It is so easy to find fault with fellow believers. But spirituality and the love of Christ in our hearts will see their graces and good points. Then we will think of them as loved by the Father and given by Him to Christ, as accepted and beautiful in His sight. And let us remember there are some unlovely things in ourselves.
The way to do it is to pour in what you want to see come out.
You may be able to see very little of Christ in me, but you are told to provoke me to greater devotion. How can you do this? You must lavish your love on me. How would you fix a pump if it were dry? Pour a few buckets of water into it. Soon the sparkling water will flow out in refreshing, continuous streams. Now this is how you are to deal with the sleepy, half-dead brother or sister. Let such a person see in you what you long to find in him. Then by your love you will provoke him to renewed energy in the divine way.
The phrase is one another. Some writers see the task as shared by all believers, since all alike are priests.
The expression is remarkable — "consider one another." Only One, the Lord Himself, stands in the authoritative place of Priest to the saints; therefore we are to consider one another… We can only do this as we stand in grace ourselves, and recognise others as standing in the same grace and the same nearness to God… There is no room for rivalry now — all are priests. But there is plenty of room for love. The love that has brought us where we stand is the measure of our love for each other.
This is not a duty bolted on from outside. It grows out of attention to Christ Himself.
The more carefully we consider Him, the more we shall be fitted and inclined to consider all who belong to Him, whoever and wherever they may be. Show us a man full of Christ, and we will show you a man full of love, and care, and interest for every member of the body of Christ. It must be so.
You cannot stir up people you hardly know.
Exhortations often fall flat because we do not know each other. How seldom are we near enough to each other in our inner lives to encourage or urge one another on! Yet as children of God and members of Christ, we are in a relationship to one another that is nearer and more lasting than any other can be.
- Christ first. Salvation, assurance, worship and perseverance come from Him alone. Settle that, then turn your eye to fellow believers.
- Then self drops out. God has left nothing undone for us. Considering ourselves is pointless; considering one another is what remains.
- Consider, don't inspect. The same close look that finds faults can see graces instead. Fault-finding provokes bitterness; love provokes love.
- Provoke by supplying. Let the sleepy believer see in you what you long to find in him — pour water into the dry pump.
- Stay near. Encouragement falls flat without real knowledge of each other, so stay close.
not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as the custom [is] with some; but encouraging [one another], and by so much the more as ye see the day drawing near.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
For where we sin wilfully after receiving the knowledge of the truth, there no longer remains any sacrifice for sins,
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
but a certain fearful expectation of judgment, and heat of fire about to devour the adversaries.
This verse warns the person who has known the Christian message and then walks away from it on purpose. Two questions decide how we read it. What is the deliberate sin of the previous verse? And who are the "adversaries" the fire consumes?
The word "for" ties this verse to what comes just before — a call not to give up meeting together. One writer traces the line from that small neglect to the disaster described here.
It is a serious thing to read "not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some," so close to apostasy. But so it is. The habit is not only unworthy of Christians but dangerous... Little as the beginning seems to some, it is the beginning of a great and possibly fatal evil.
The sin here is not a believer's slip but a complete break. One writer draws the line by naming what the person does next.
The deliberate sin is turning away from the Christian faith. The Apostle is not speaking of a backslider who may go back into the world, like Demas, of whom we read in another letter. Such a person can be recovered. The apostate does more than give up Christianity. After professing it, he takes up some human religion. In effect he says, "I have tried Christianity, but I find Judaism, or Buddhism, or some other religion, better."
Another writer sets the law of Moses beside grace, and finds one exception.
For Israel under the law, deliberate sin had no remedy. The law allowed none. Under grace there is a perfect resource for all sins — "the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin." Only one deliberate sin is now without resource: turning away from Christianity. That is, giving up Christ and His sacrifice.
Nothing is left because there is no second offering to fall back on.
If they left Christianity, what other divine provision was there that could help them before the throne of God?... "There no longer remains a sacrifice for sins." That solemn statement shuts the door against everything besides the sacrifice of Christ... The language is decisive, so no one should mistake what lies ahead. No sacrifice remains. So a sacrifice was needed. Why speak of none remaining, if men could get to heaven without one?
The verse does not say the fire consumes weak Christians. It names a class, and one writer insists on the difference.
The sacrifices were still going on at Jerusalem, but there was no reality any more in anything there. They are not failing saints but adversaries. As such, they must expect a worse judgment than under the law of Moses — worse in proportion to the greatness of what they despised.
Earlier in the letter, Christ appears "a second time... to save those who are eagerly waiting for him." Here that same forward look holds something else.
No sacrifice then remains. At the close of the ninth chapter we saw the believer waiting for the Saviour from heaven. In place of that there is nothing but "a fearful expectation of judgment, and a fury of fire that will consume the adversaries." The future is one of terror. Nothing can soften the dreadful doom awaiting those who have lined up on the side of the adversaries of God.
It might seem strange that such severity belongs to an age of good news. One writer answers that the good news is what makes it severe.
We do live in a day when the good news of God's grace is preached. But it is just that fact which increases the severity of the judgment... Grace makes known to us things of infinite greatness. To despise them is a sin of infinite greatness — far graver than despising the law of Moses with its holy demands.
The person frightened by this verse is usually the one it does not describe.
Their state is wholly in contrast with the apostate boldness described in this chapter as well as in Hebrews 6. There is nothing really in common. The apostate is as self-satisfied as he is scornful toward Christ. He hates the truth all the more because he once professed it. The tried and shaken believer condemns himself without sparing, and wants faithfulness to Christ above all things. The great remedy, valued by few, is confidence in His grace — a fuller sense of His work in judging sinful flesh, not forgiveness of sins only. He is also the believer's advocate when he fails.
- One sacrifice — Christ's offering is the only one God appointed; give it up and there is no other to fall back on.
- One sin — the deliberate sin here is giving up Christ altogether. A believer's failure has a remedy; this has none.
- One side — the verse counts those who quit not as failing saints but as adversaries, and the fire falls on them.
- One prospect — instead of waiting for the returning Saviour, they have only a fearful expectation of judgment.
- One caution — a backslider can be recovered, and the believer who condemns himself is not the person this verse pictures.
Any one that has disregarded Moses' law dies without mercy on [the testimony of] two or three witnesses
The writer reaches back to Israel's law courts, where two or three agreeing witnesses could send a man who set aside Moses' law to his death. That is the smaller case, laid down so the greater one in the next verse can land with full weight.
The phrase "without mercy" is not an overstatement. It describes how the law worked by design. Asked what the law can do for a person, one writer answers:
Curse me and kill me on the spot! Is there no mercy? Not in the law! There is no mercy at Mount Sinai. If a man stands before that fiery mount, the terrible choice is duty or damnation. There is no middle ground.
Israel did have offerings for sin. Why did they not cover the man in this verse? The answer lies in what those offerings were for:
When God set up this offering, the sins in view were those committed "through ignorance." Here we see the compassion of our God shining out. He knew well the weakness, ignorance and forgetfulness that mark poor, fallen humanity, and so He made this provision. Sin committed deliberately, in cold-blooded defiance of God, is not in view here... God is a God of mercy, but the law itself has no mercy in it. So the merciful provision of the sin and trespass offerings only took effect where the root of the sin was ignorance, not wilfulness.
Why witnesses at all? It follows from what the law judged:
The Law dealt only with outward acts. It condemned men for their deeds. So its punishments fell on what people could see and hear. Witnesses were therefore necessary to establish legal judgment... The Law thus worked effectively as a ministry of death.
Translations differ on one small phrase, and the sense turns on it:
The point pressed is not "before," or "in the presence of" witnesses... but at the agreeing testimony of two or three... The sense is that the despising transgressor died without mercy, but on the testimony of two or three.
The penalty was not invented for this letter. It stood in the law itself:
What was to be handed out to one who despised Moses' law? Death without pity was the penalty appointed there (Deuteronomy 13:1-11; 17:2-13).
The verse does not describe a man who slipped. Older translations read "despised the law of Moses," and contempt is heavier than neglect:
Clearly then, despising God's commandments shows deeper opposition to His will than setting them aside.
Everything in this verse exists to make the next one unanswerable. The greater offence is not a worse act of disobedience but a rejection of what God has given in His Son:
Those who despised the law of Moses died without mercy. What then must those deserve at the hand of God who trampled the Son of God underfoot? They counted the blood of the covenant, by which they had been set apart, a common thing, and they insulted the Spirit of grace. It was not simple disobedience, however evil that might be. It was contempt of the grace of God, and of what He had done in the Person of Jesus, to deliver us from the consequences of disobedience.
The comparison also guards God's character. He did not grow softer when the age of law ended:
Is God less holy under grace than He is under law? Does He think less of denial of His holy, spotless Son than of dishonour done to the commandments written and engraved in stone?
Anxious believers often read themselves into this warning. One writer draws the line:
The state of such believers is wholly in contrast with the apostate boldness described in this chapter and in Hebrews 6. There is nothing in common. The apostate is as pleased with himself as he is proud toward Christ, and hates the truth the more because he once professed it. The tried and shaken believer condemns himself without excuse and wants faithfulness to Christ above all things.
- Despised, not broken. The verse targets contempt for God's command. That is deeper opposition to His will than setting it aside.
- Without mercy. The law had no mercy to give; its offerings covered sins of ignorance, not deliberate defiance.
- Two or three. The law judged outward acts, so it needed witnesses. The man died on their agreeing word, not merely in their presence.
- Lesser to greater. Merciless death for despising Moses is the smaller case; the greater is contempt for the grace of God shown in His Son.
- Same holy God. Grace has not made God less holy. So this warning describes the settled apostate, not the trembling believer.
of how much worse punishment, think ye, shall he be judged worthy who has trodden under foot the Son of God, and esteemed the blood of the covenant, whereby he has been sanctified, common, and has insulted the Spirit of grace?
The verse asks a question instead of making a statement: how much worse a punishment does such a person deserve? It lays three charges in one sentence, and each one touches a different Person or gift — which raises the hardest question here: how can someone "sanctified" by the blood end up under judgment?
The question sets two things side by side: the penalty under Moses' law, and the Person now rejected.
The Jews knew Moses' law well. It demanded death for anyone who rebelled against it, once qualified witnesses established the case. But God's glory revealed in the Person of His Son goes infinitely beyond God's speaking by the law of Moses. If judgment under the law was that severe, then the far greater evil of the crime against the Son of God demands a far greater judgment.
Each charge answers a gift the gospel had held out.
The gospel presents to us, first, the Son of God; second, His precious blood, as the blood of the new covenant; third, the Holy Spirit, as the Spirit of grace. Now what does the man who abandons the faith do — especially the Jew who professed Christianity, gives it up, and goes back to Judaism? He tramples the first under foot. He counts the second an unholy thing. He utterly despises the third. He treats the very things that bring salvation with the utmost scorn and contempt. There is nothing beyond them, nothing but judgment. He will deserve every bit of judgment he gets. All this, note well, is a vastly different thing from a true believer growing cold and careless and so falling into sin.
The sin in view is of a different order from breaking a rule.
It was not simple disobedience, however evil that might be. It was contempt for the grace of God, and for what He had done in the Person of Jesus to deliver us from the consequences of disobedience. On the one hand, if they knew what it was and still renounced it, what was left for them? On the other hand, how could they escape judgment?
That leaves such a person with nothing to fall back on.
If they now abandoned the infinite sacrifice of the Saviour which they had confessed up to that point, there was no other that could avail for their sins. None had real and everlasting efficacy but that one; and those who gave it up, after owning it, were absolutely without resource… Of course in their case it had been mere profession, and the sanctification only outward, separating them from their Jewish fellows.
This phrase is the knot in the verse. Commentators take the word here in an outward sense: a setting apart by open association, not the inward work of new birth.
As we have already seen, "sanctification" in Hebrews is outward — a matter of position. It is not the work of the Spirit of God in the soul by new birth… Nowhere does Scripture mean that a single sheep of Christ can ever perish. Our Lord's own words put the seal on this: "I give them eternal life," and "no one will snatch them out of My hand."
The Greek tense points the same way.
Here it speaks of a person with a Jewish background who has professed to be a Christian but then abandons that profession… The Holy Spirit does not use the present participle, for sanctification is not characteristic of this person. He does not use the perfect tense either, for no sanctification has been accomplished for him. He uses the aorist, which simply means that an event happened in the past, without implying a lasting consequence.
The third charge strikes the One who testified to the worth of the blood.
The Spirit of grace has testified to the value of that blood of the covenant. So to deny its value is a direct insult to the Holy Spirit… How true it is, also, that sin against one Person of the Godhead is sin against all. If a man tramples the Son of God under foot, he has also insulted the Holy Spirit, and denied God the Father, the giver of the Son.
The warning has a target, and the anxious believer is not it.
Such passages hold no terror for those who judge themselves. Knowing they are utterly unworthy in themselves, they rejoice in Jesus as their sure salvation… The heart that grieves in deep dismay over how little good it has done is in no mood to reject the ministry of grace, or to count the blood of Christ a common thing.
- Greater light, greater guilt. Moses' law demanded death for the rebel. The crime here is against the Son of God, so the punishment must be far heavier.
- Three gifts, three insults. The Son trampled, the blood called common, the Spirit outraged — he throws back all three of the gospel's gifts.
- Contempt, not weakness. This is not a believer growing cold. It is contempt for grace by someone who knew what he was giving up.
- Set apart, not saved. "Sanctified" here means an outward setting apart through open profession. It is real as a position, but it carries no lasting result.
- Nothing left over. Give up the one sacrifice and nothing is left but judgment. Yet the person who trembles at these words shows he is not the one described.
For we know him that said, To me [belongs] vengeance; *I* will recompense, saith the Lord and again, The Lord shall judge his people.
Both halves of this verse come from one song of Moses, quoted to back a warning. Everything turns on two questions: who is speaking, and who "His people" are.
The warning is not about breaking rules. It is about despising a gift, and the words from Moses close the last exit.
It was not simple disobedience, however evil that might be. It was contempt of the grace of God, and of what He had done in the Person of Jesus to deliver us from the consequences of disobedience. On the one hand, what was there left, if with the knowledge of what it was, they renounced this? On the other hand, how could they escape judgment? For they know a God who had said that vengeance belonged to Him, and that He would repay. And again: the Lord would judge His people.
The second quotation comes from a passage where God's dealing with His people is not only punishment. The same line in Moses' song goes on to speak of compassion.
"The Lord will judge — vindicate, defend or avenge — His people. He will have compassion on His servants, when He sees that their power is gone and there is none remaining." Precious grace for Israel in the days to come — and for each and all now who feel and admit their need!
(Mackintosh works from an older translation. The ESV renders the line, "the LORD will vindicate his people.")
Commentators differ over how wide the phrase reaches. Some keep it where Moses first spoke it — over Israel — while agreeing that God also deals with His own today.
The Lord does of course judge His saints today, and 1 Corinthians 11:30-32 makes this plain enough. But this passage is limited to Israel. The quotation comes from Deuteronomy 32.
Others take it as a standing rule over everyone who carries God's name. On this reading, the judgment is already near.
The writer adds two quotations from Deuteronomy 32:35-36 to confirm the teaching of a special judgment on the one who contradicts God and the one who abandons the faith. The Lord will judge His people. He is already standing at the door, ready to visit the great house that claims His name and to deal with it justly, according to what it really is. It is indeed a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God, when He comes armed for vengeance to destroy His enemies.
Being God's people is not a shelter from His dealings. It is the reason those dealings are closer and stricter.
If He punished the vile practices of the doomed nations that had pushed into His land, He chastens His own people far more strictly. "You only have I known of all the families of the earth; therefore I will punish you for all your iniquities" (Amos 3:2).
The same rod does not mean the same thing for everyone.
The Lord may, and does, chastise His people when they turn aside from His ways. But however hard His rod falls on them, they will still confess with David that His mercies are great. Sooner or later He will also deal with those who merely profess His name and then abandon it. For them His rod will be one of vengeance and "recompense" for their defiant rebellion.
If repayment belongs to God, it is not ours. That changes how a believer answers an insult.
If we keep silent when insulted, it is not that there is no answer to evil and malice. It is that the answer is left with God. We are never to try to take vengeance on the wrongdoer. God retains all vengeance in His own hands... Our part then is to follow in the steps of the Lord Jesus. When insulted, we commit ourselves to Him who judges justly. We remember the word that says, "Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, 'Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord'" (Rom. 12:19).
- Whose word. The warning rests on the God who spoke it. The appeal is not to a rule but to a Speaker who has already said what He will do.
- Whose right. God claims vengeance as His alone. So the wronged believer stays silent and leaves the answer with Him.
- Whose people. The words come from Moses' song over Israel. Commentators differ on how far they reach: some keep them to Israel, others apply them to the whole house that bears God's name.
- Whose reach. Nearness to God raises the standard. He chastens His own more strictly than He punished the nations.
- Whose hands. The same hands bring chastening and great mercy to a repentant believer. To the one who abandons what he professed, they bring recompense.
[It is] a fearful thing falling into [the] hands of [the] living God.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
But call to mind the earlier days in which, having been enlightened, ye endured much conflict of sufferings;
The letter has just delivered a severe warning. Then the tone changes. The writer points his readers back to the earliest days of their faith. Why should memory answer the danger of drifting? And what were they to remember?
The change of direction shows who the writer thought he was addressing. He aimed solemn words at some. But he thought well of the group as a whole.
In verse 32 we again see that, though these warnings were given for the sake of some, the writer had every confidence that most of the people he wrote to were true believers. He remembered the earlier days when they suffered much persecution for their faith, and he called on them to remember those days too. He appealed to them not to throw away their confidence at this late point in their history.
"After you were enlightened" points to a moment you can date. One writer made that phrase a question for his hearers, then a challenge about today.
But most people know the moment when the light first came to them. If there is one moment of moral energy in the history of a soul, it is the day that soul was made alive. Why do you and I not carry the strength of that moment with us? Is the Jesus we have now a different Jesus? I know there was a day when all was over between God and me. Now the day has come when all is over between the world and me. That is practical Christianity.
The same writer allows for a quieter case: Timothy, taught by a godly mother, may have come gently into God's flock.
The order in the verse matters. It leaves no quiet gap between the light and the attack.
There is always the danger of drawing back from the path of faith because of the shame and suffering it brings. These believers had begun well. The truth had enlightened them, and at once they found themselves in conflict for the truth.
The "hard struggle with sufferings" was not abstract. For Jewish believers, confessing Christ broke the closest ties they had.
"Call to mind the former days," the time of their first love, when they were first enlightened. These truths of God first flashed into their souls and brought peace and joy and comfort. Then they endured a hard struggle with sufferings. Their own relatives, perhaps members of their own family, handed them over to the council. When they confessed Christ, they found that their own parents had turned their backs on them! Those who had once held them in regard now looked at them with suspicion. They were branded as blasphemers "against Moses" "and this holy place and the law," because they declared for Jesus and the resurrection.
Suffering already endured is hard evidence. Someone who has paid that price cannot shrug it off as nothing.
This appeal would have real effect on those souls who were genuine. They could not easily overturn the reality of what they had suffered for the Lord's sake in their first stand for Him, and for identifying themselves with the believers who were suffering. Only a hard, untrue heart could renounce all this.
The appeal was not meant to make them proud of their record. And the danger they faced now had changed shape.
What better way could there be to keep those who truly loved the Lord from dishonouring Him, than to remind them of what they had already endured for His sake, by His grace? This would not feed pride. It would stir them up to endure still more for Him, who had endured so much for them... Perhaps what tempted them most at this time was not so much outward persecution, the enduring of a hard struggle with sufferings. The greater pull was something more subtle and deadly: a sleepiness of soul that makes turning away from the Lord possible.
Another writer describes the same danger: not defeat in battle, but slackening while still on duty.
Slackening off is always a danger for soldiers on active service, and Christians here below always are on service... Still, the great safeguard is against throwing away their confidence, their boldness of soul, which is the inner root of outward suffering and of service.
- Light. "After you were enlightened" marks a moment most believers can name: the day God's light first reached them.
- Conflict. That light led straight into a fight. Families turned away. Relatives handed believers over to the council. Confessing Christ earned them the name of blasphemer.
- Endurance. They came through it. The writer treats that record as proof he is writing to real believers, not just warning those who might fall away.
- Memory. Recalling the cost already paid is not praise for past achievement. It stirs a believer to endure more for the One who endured so much for him.
- Danger. The threat now is not open attack. It is the slow slackening of a soldier still on duty. So the one thing to guard is confidence of soul.
on the one hand, when ye were made a spectacle both in reproaches and afflictions; and on the other, when ye became partakers with those who were passing through them.
Hebrews 10:33 looks back to a time when these believers paid publicly for their faith — some held up to open scorn, others standing beside those who were. Why does the writer count both kinds of suffering as worth remembering?
The first half of the verse pictures a public spectacle. Samuel Ridout finds the same scene in Stephen:
They were made a public spectacle, held up to the scorn and mockery of others. It was like Stephen. They brought him before the council. His face was lit up with the light of heaven itself, yet they insulted him, threw him out of the city and stoned him. So these Hebrew Christians had tasted similar sufferings in some degree.
The second half names those who were not the target themselves, but stood with the ones who were. Another writer points to the Lord's own company, then weighs the two positions:
Christ Himself did not stand alone; He was the friend of tax collectors and sinners. There may be a harder trial than standing alone for the truth. In some cases, joining yourself to others calls for a higher quality. The first position needs courage; the second needs grace. You may not fear blows: do you fear being laughed at?
The verse names both groups. Ridout notes what God makes of even the smaller share:
They were either persecuted like this themselves, or they were companions of those who suffered. See how the Spirit of God dwells on any faithfulness there had been to the name of the Lord Jesus, however small! It counted even when it showed itself only by standing with those who were the direct targets of persecution.
The verse comes right after a severe warning. F. B. Hole explains why that warning is not the whole picture of these readers:
In verse 32 we see again that the writer gave these warnings for the sake of some. Even so, he was fully confident that most of his readers were true believers. He remembered the earlier days when they suffered much persecution for their faith, and he called on them to remember as well. He urged them not to throw away their confidence so late in their history.
That memory also works as a test:
This appeal would have real effect on those who were genuine. They could not easily throw away what they had truly suffered for the Lord's sake when they first stood for Him, and when they identified themselves with the believers who were suffering. Only a hard, untrue heart could disown all this.
The memory meets a danger that is still live. Hamilton Smith names it:
The Apostle also warns us not to be discouraged by suffering, reproach and affliction. There is always the danger of shrinking back from the path of faith because it brings reproach and suffering. These believers had begun well. The truth had opened their eyes, and at once they found themselves in conflict for the truth. But they held out in that conflict, and they joined themselves with all their heart to those who were suffering for Christ's Name.
One writer traces the believer's reproach back to the Lord Himself:
The one cleansed by the blood will find that he is called to share the Lord's reproach and shame, as he seeks to walk a path that follows His Word… No one has ever tasted reproach and shame as deeply as He has. But you and I, dear fellow-believer, have the privilege of carrying some measure of His reproach. May He grant us to count it greater riches than this poor world can offer!
The same call returns later in the letter. Ridout shows what it asks of believers who are free:
He now urges them to remember those in prison. They are not to feel mere pity, but to share in spirit with those in affliction, even though they themselves may be free. What a lovely identification of faith with the suffering people of God! "If one member suffers, all suffer together" — "Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep."
- Exposed. The first half of the verse means public scorn and mockery — what Stephen met before his accusers and outside the city.
- Beside. The second half covers those who stood next to the sufferers. Standing alone takes courage. Standing beside takes grace.
- Counted. God notes even the faithfulness that only stands beside the persecuted. No share is too small.
- Tested. What a person once suffered for Christ proves the faith was real. Only a hard heart could disown it.
- Continued. Believers who are free still share the same path: remember the prisoners as if sharing their pain, and carry Christ's reproach as riches.
For ye both sympathised with prisoners and accepted with joy the plunder of your goods, knowing that ye have for yourselves a better substance, and an abiding one.
Believers here had their homes and goods seized because of their faith. They did not just endure the loss — they welcomed it, and the verse says what they knew that made such joy possible.
Older English versions read "compassion of me in my bonds." That narrows the sympathy to the writer's own imprisonment. A closer look at the wording widens it, and changes the ending too.
Instead of "me in my bonds," read "prisoners"; for "in yourselves," substitute "for yourselves"; and omit the words "in heaven."… It was a time of persecution. The saints courageously, in faithfulness to Christ, showed their sympathy with those imprisoned for Christ's sake and identified themselves with them. This exposed them to the hostility of their opponents, and so they lost their earthly possessions.
Standing with prisoners in public is one trial. Losing property is another, and the two do not weigh the same on everyone.
The Hebrew believers had begun well. The letter urges them here to keep on enduring the fierce conflict with the enemy… To some of feeble faith such sympathy is no small trial; to others, the plunder of their property. These saints had shone in both respects.
Their sympathy was not private feeling. It linked them in the open with prisoners, and that link is what cost them their goods.
It was no small matter to have linked themselves with prisoners who suffered for Christ. It left them exposed to the ungodly persecutor. He thought he had every right to plunder their possessions, since everyone held them in contempt. But faith could rise above grieving over passing loss: they had what was their own, a better and enduring substance.
The verse does not say they took the loss calmly. It says they took it with joy.
An opposing mob smashed up some of their homes. It would have been a great thing if they had faced that loss with resignation and meekness — but in fact they faced it with joyfulness. This underlined a glorious fact in their minds. Their real portion lay outside earth and in heaven, far beyond the reach of all their opponents.
Behind the joy stood a Person.
Their faith was so active, and Christ was so real to their hearts as their treasure, that they joyfully accepted the plundering of their property… They willingly suffered the loss of all things for the sake of Christ. It is a blessed record, and a powerful testimony to what Christ is for His people in the fires of persecution.
"Better" is a comparison. What it is compared with is what the law promised Israel: prosperity in family and possessions for obedience.
In the later verses of that chapter we learn that we therefore possess "substance" of an eternal kind. It is "better" than anything promised to Israel under the law. If they had obeyed, they would have prospered and increased in their families and all earthly possessions. The Hebrew Christian had substance lying outside earthly things.
That possession was invisible. The verse says they knew they had it. The next chapter says how.
And what made the heavenly portion that was theirs so real to them? The answer is in the first verse of Hebrews 11. In Darby's New Translation it reads, "Now faith is the substantiating of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." Faith substantiated the better and enduring substance to the early Hebrew Christian.
The writer holds this glowing record up to people whose love had cooled. He recalls their best days to wake them.
This repeating of such searching warnings within one letter plainly shows that the believers he addressed had lost some of their former love… They needed waking from this dream. Leading them to look again at the rich blessings of their heavenly inheritance would restore them to themselves… They had lost the things people naturally prize, without a murmur — indeed, with joy. They were firmly persuaded that the love of Christ had won for them in heaven a better and more enduring substance.
Joy under loss came from knowing the better thing. No one reaches that joy by deciding to look down on possessions.
We must know the better thing by experience, and hold dear the hope of "good things to come." Only then can we gain full victory over present things and our own worldly desires… If we are really waiting for the appearing of the glory, we will stand apart from everything that will be judged in that day.
- Cost. They stood with imprisoned believers in public, and their persecutors took their goods.
- Character. Two trials — public shame and lost property — weigh on people in different ways. These saints stood in both.
- Cause. The joy came from knowledge, not nerve. Faith made real to them a possession better than anything the law promised Israel.
- Continuance. The possession is "abiding" — the one thing a persecutor cannot confiscate.
- Challenge. The passage speaks to people whose first love had cooled. Only real experience of the better thing frees anyone from the present one.
Cast not away therefore your confidence, which has great recompense.
Just before this verse, the writer reminds these believers of their earlier days. They suffered much for their faith, and they stood firm. Now he turns to a new danger. It is not that enemies will crush them. It is that they may let go of what they already hold.
The word translated "confidence" here is not a mood or a personality trait. It is the same word used earlier in the chapter for the right of access believers have into God's presence.
The apostle urges them not to throw away or cast off their confidence, because a great reward is laid up for them in heaven… It is the same word that is translated "boldness" earlier in this chapter: "Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus." They were not to cast away this boldness. They were to hold fast the joy of their hope and keep their confidence firm to the end.
Samuel Ridout (older translations read "boldness" in verse 19)
The reason to hold on does not lie in the believer's own steadiness. It lies in the One they trust. He is what He was when they first trusted Him.
In all they did and suffered then, the moving spring was hopeful confidence in Jesus. They were to keep that firmly (verse 35). For Jesus had not changed. Suppose they compared their first love and its effects with the reduced zeal that had since made the apostle's heart sad. If that made them question their own sincerity, they were wrong. What they did earlier was rightly done. And God was not unrighteous to forget their work. They must not cast away their confidence, because He was faithful to preserve the trust they had once placed in Jesus.
If pressure makes someone drop his confidence, the fault lies in that confidence. The pressure has changed nothing about God.
If someone casts away confidence in the living God, that confidence proves to be very deficient, for God Himself has not changed. Persecution tests it, no doubt, and the apostle would strengthen souls to stand by true, living faith.
What happens inside a believer is the source of what he can bear and what he can do.
The great guard is against casting away their confidence or boldness of soul, the root within of outward suffering as of service. Patient endurance is needed as ever. The love of Christ is its spring, glory with Him is its only hope, and the road is doing the will of God as He did it perfectly. The reward He assures cannot be separated from His coming, which here, as elsewhere, is kept right in front of the Christian.
The reward had not arrived yet. That is the whole difficulty. The answer is how little of the road is left.
They are called not to cast away their confidence and its great recompense. True, they needed endurance. But let them remember that the end of everlasting joy is near. He who is coming will come and will not delay, and it is yet a very little while. What blessed grounds to persevere in faith! They had long walked in Christ's path: a few trials more might be theirs. All above is glorious, and He is coming quickly.
Whatever they had lost by confessing Christ was not lost permanently.
He remembered, and he called on them to remember, the earlier days when they suffered much persecution for their faith, and he appealed to them not to cast away their confidence at this late hour in their history. An abundant recompense was coming for any loss they had suffered here.
The promise of a reward opens a side of faith that goes beyond forgiveness.
"Do not throw away your confidence," for it thus shows that it has "a great reward." Faith is a principle that grasps two different things about God. It views Him as one who justifies the ungodly, as in Romans 4. But here it grasps God as "a rewarder of those who seek Him." The moment you grasp God by a faith that does not work, you enter on a faith that does work. And while we rightly value a faith that saves our souls, let us not be indifferent to a faith that serves our Saviour. How boldly we sometimes assert our title, but do we value our inheritance?
- Confidence — the word is the same "boldness" as in verse 19: the right to enter God's presence through the blood of Jesus. That is what they were told not to throw away.
- Grounds — the confidence rests on Christ, not on feelings. Jesus has not changed, so there is no reason to let go.
- Root — boldness inside feeds both the suffering they bear and the service they give. Lose it and both dry up.
- Reward — the reward does not come now. It comes with Christ, and the wait is only a very little while.
- Reach — the same faith that receives justification also seeks God as a rewarder. Hold the title, but value the inheritance too.
For ye have need of endurance in order that, having done the will of God, ye may receive the promise.
These words were written to believers under persecution, tempted to give up. The verse ties three things together: endurance, doing God's will, and a promise still to come.
This endurance is not learned in comfortable circumstances.
He reminds them that they need patience, as we all do — or, as the word really is, "endurance." And it is tribulation that "produces endurance, and endurance produces character." Character and endurance do not come from an unexercised life. They needed that endurance which stayed under every stress, so that after they had done the will of God, they would still hold to Him, and so obtain the promise laid up for them in heaven.
The same word appears elsewhere in the New Testament, and it has one perfect example.
The word for endurance comes from a verb meaning "to sustain." It is translated "enduring" in one place (2 Cor. 1:6), and "patient continuance" in another (Rom. 2:7), and that sense is fully part of the word. It is a "patient endurance" that does not give way under trial and suffering… It is never applied to God directly, because there could be no such testing or pressure in regard to Him. But the Lord Jesus, in the place He has taken as Man, is our perfect example in it, Heb. 12:2-3.
What does doing God's will look like? One life shows it exactly.
When He was here He did God's will only, and that is why the apostle Paul says, "For you have need of endurance, so that when you have done (what Jesus did) the will of God you may receive what is promised" (Heb. 10:36)… A man who is doing the will of God is not living for himself. His only thought is to do what God wishes. And that is exactly what the blessed Lord did here.
The verse follows a warning about throwing confidence away. Persecution puts that confidence to the test.
If someone throws away confidence in the living God, that confidence is shown to be badly lacking, for God Himself has not changed. Persecution tests it, no doubt, and the apostle would strengthen souls to stand by true, living faith. Patient endurance would gain its reward. God's will for every believer is that hard experience should prove his trust is really in the living God.
Readers who had once been Jews might have expected honour and relief in this life. Commentators say the Christian's portion runs the other way.
As Jews, they might associate with the Christ freedom from suffering and promotion to high honour; but as Christians, their portion is to share His sufferings for righteousness and love and truth. No mistake is more common in Christendom than looking for present reward and distinction and ease through the gospel and the church… It is through suffering in faith and patience that we are disciplined and bear fruit to Him who chooses in this way to prune the branches of the vine.
The promise is certain. Endurance covers the waiting.
One thing only was necessary: that they should continue with endurance doing the will of God. Then without fail all that had been promised would be fulfilled to them. Their very position was that they had "fled for refuge" to "hold fast to the hope set before us" (6:18). That hope was abundantly sure, but its fulfilment can only be at the coming of the Lord, as verse 37 shows.
The call to endure also comes with comfort. It has a time limit.
Finally, the apostle gives them the cheer that it is only a little while that there will be need for this endurance… At any moment the welcome shout, with the voice of the trumpet, may be heard from heaven, and saints snatched from their place of trial will enter into the joy of the Lord. This very inducement is held out for perseverance. This sharp trial may be the last. This temptation to turn into an easier path may be followed by the coming of the Lord.
Endurance needs peace. A troubled mind makes the quiet doing of God's will impossible.
There is nothing that the soul of the believer is more brought to feel than that he has "need of endurance" (Heb. 10:36); but if he is hindered by anything from finding God to be "the God of peace," if sorrow and trial hinder this, there is the will of the flesh at work. There cannot be the quiet doing of God's will if the mind is troubled and unsettled about a thousand things.
- Endurance, not patience. The word means a steadiness that stays under pressure, and it is trial — not an easy life — that produces it.
- Endurance obeys. The one who endures is doing God's will — not living for himself, exactly as Christ did.
- Endurance is tested. Persecution proves whether your confidence is really in the living God.
- Endurance receives. Nothing promised will fail. But it comes at the Lord's return, not as ease or honour now.
- Endurance is short. It is "a little while": the sharp trial you are in may be the last one before He comes.