The first therefore also indeed had ordinances of service, and the sanctuary, a worldly one.
Chapter 8 ended by calling the first covenant obsolete. Now the writer describes what that covenant gave Israel: appointed services and a sanctuary that belonged to this world. Two questions run through the verse. What is "the first"? And why call God's own dwelling place "worldly"?
In Greek, no noun follows the word "first." One writer finds the missing word in the previous chapter.
The first what? we may ask. The common Greek text, backed by the later copies, answers by supplying the word tabernacle. The better text, backed by all the oldest copies, supplies no noun after "first." So the Authorised Version and the Revised Version reject "tabernacle" and supply in italics "covenant." This fits the last verse of chapter 8, where God "makes the first one obsolete." So the "first" in 9:1 points back to the "first" in 8:13.
So the furniture listed in the verses that follow belongs to a covenant God has already set aside.
Where the ESV says "an earthly place of holiness," older translations read "a worldly sanctuary." The same writer explains that word from a contrast drawn later in the chapter.
Lower down in our chapter (verse 11) we read of the heavenly tabernacle, "not made with hands, that is, not of this creation." Set beside that, the name "worldly," given to the earthly one, was meant to express its connection with things down here. By place, material, construction and use it belonged to the present passing world. For each sanctuary must of course be in character with the sphere in which it is found.
This sanctuary was God's own idea. He asked for it so He could live among a people He had set apart on earth.
Remember that God once said to the children of Israel, "Let them make me a sanctuary, that I may dwell in their midst." This was a "worldly sanctuary." It suited God's dwelling place in the world. It suited also the worship of a people of the world. God had made Israel to be His worldly people. He had fenced them off from the nations around them by statutes and rules and ordinances. He had also prescribed "ordinances of divine service," fitted to their sanctuary and to their standing.
The sanctuary belonged to its time. The cross was still ahead.
Ordinances of divine service the first covenant had in abundance, and most instructive; yet the sanctuary was and could not but be a worldly one. For God had not yet appeared in flesh here below, and man had not yet been received up in glory. The infinite sacrifice for sin had yet to be offered. In that sacrifice God is glorified. Through it He can bless the believer to the uttermost, for sin was fully judged in the cross. So the veil was still not torn, and the way into the holy places was neither open nor shown.
The splendour was deliberate. It was a test.
The aim of Judaism was to tie religion to this world, to the earth. So God tested whether earthly things linked with Him could draw man to God Himself. For this He gave them a magnificent temple, gorgeous robes, splendid ceremonies, music and singing. His purpose was to mix the tastes and feelings of nature with Himself. But note: all this needed a priesthood between them and God. It was not the presence of God as light in heaven, and it was not peaceful communion with Himself.
God commanded these services once. Bringing them back now is not a small thing.
Of old, any neglect of the worldly sanctuary dishonoured God. Now, copying it or setting it up again dishonours Him. This helps us judge the character of things now done in the professing church. Take, for example, an altar on the earth, repeated sacrifice, the burning of incense, and the consecrating of buildings, ground and people by outward ceremony.
Commentators differ in tone here. Another writer hears grace in the words.
We have such a world-sanctuary: a place where we can meet God and enter by faith into heavenly things. And we know all the while that we are only passing through a world where we are pilgrims and strangers. This is the sweetest grace, that such a sanctuary is open to us even here.
- First — "The first" carries on from the end of chapter 8. So the subject is the first covenant, not the first tent. Its furniture belongs to a covenant God has already set aside.
- Worldly — God asked for this sanctuary Himself. It matched this passing world in place, material, construction and use, unlike the heavenly tabernacle not made with hands.
- Fitting — A worldly sanctuary matched a worldly people. God had fenced Israel off from the nations, and gave them services fitted to that standing.
- Provisional — It could be nothing else while the great sacrifice was still ahead. The veil was still not torn, and the way in was still closed.
- Finished — God has set that system aside, so reviving altars, incense and consecrated buildings dishonours Him. A better sanctuary is open now: we meet God by faith while we pass through this world as strangers.
For a tabernacle was set up; the first, in which [were] both the candlestick and the table and the exposition of the loaves, which is called Holy;
This verse opens a short tour of the old sanctuary: the writer lists what stood in the outer room of the tabernacle and gives that room its name. Two questions sit behind that list: what does "the first" mean, and what were the lampstand, the table and the bread meant to teach?
The verse says "the first" without saying the first what. One writer traces the missing word back to the previous chapter.
"The first what?" it may be asked. The common Greek text settles the question by supplying the word "tabernacle." The better text supplies no noun after "first." So the Authorised Version and the Revised reject "tabernacle" and supply in italics "covenant." This fits the last verse of chapter 8, where we read, "He has made the first [that is, covenant] old." Then it naturally follows that "the first" in 9:1 refers to "the first" in 8:13... All was appointed by God.
The tent had two compartments, and verse 2 describes only the outer one. That division carried a message.
The writer draws attention here to the two divisions of the first covenant: the Holy place (verse 2) and the Holy of Holies. Each was shut off by a door or veil; of the holiest of all we read, "after the second veil." Door and veil barred the entrance of man as such... How different from the bold access by faith we have as a settled title into this grace in which we stand! For now the veil is torn in two from top to bottom, ever since Jesus gave up His spirit on the cross.
The lamp burned inside a closed room. Its light never reached the crowds outside, and that shapes what it pictures.
The lampstand gave its light inside the holy place; it was the only light there. I do not think the lampstand pictures testimony in the world, but rather light in the circle where priestly service goes on... We need to move in the light the Spirit sheds in the divine circle if there is to be any response from our hearts for the pleasure of God.
The bread has several names in Scripture, and each one says something about it.
He is the spiritual food that sustains the new life. John 6:31-58. This was pictured in Israel by the showbread, the twelve loaves placed on the table in the holy place, new every Sabbath day: it was holy and was eaten by the priests only. Leviticus 24:5-9. It is literally "face or presence bread" (Exodus 25:30), and in the New Testament "bread of presentation." Matthew 12:4; Hebrews 9:2. It pictured the food God would provide for Israel in Christ, as well as the ordering of the twelve tribes before Him.
The table and the loaves point two ways at once: to what feeds God's people, and to how God sees them.
The table speaks of Christ in the perfection of His human and divine natures, as the One through whom we have communion with God. The life is given, but it needs to be sustained. The table suggests Christ, the food which the people of God enjoy. The showbread also reminds us how perfectly His people are presented in Him.
Verse 1 called the sanctuary "worldly." One writer explains what made it so.
The first covenant had many ordinances of divine service, and they were most instructive. Yet the sanctuary was, and could not help being, a worldly one. For God was not yet manifested in flesh here below, nor was man received up in glory... The veil therefore was still unrent, and the way into the holies was neither available nor made known. All was of the first creation, shadowy and provisional, at best the witness of good things to come.
Commentators read that word differently, and one finds grace in it.
People have made a difficulty of this last expression. But it seems clearly to refer to what the sanctuary was: a picture of heavenly things that went with the people all the way through the wilderness... We have such a world-sanctuary. It is a place where we can meet God and so enter by faith into heavenly things, while we know we are only passing through a world where we are pilgrims and strangers. This is the sweetest grace, that such a sanctuary is open to us even here.
- Covenant. "The first" reaches back to the first covenant of chapter 8. God appointed everything in this outer room.
- Barred. A door, then a second veil, kept man out. At the cross the veil tore, and faith now has bold access.
- Light. The lampstand shone only inside. It pictures light for those who serve God in His presence, not testimony to the world.
- Bread. The loaves were "presence bread," set out before God. They picture Christ as the food of His people, and His people presented perfectly in Him.
- Shadow. The sanctuary was worldly and provisional, a witness of good things to come. Others read the word as a meeting place with God for pilgrims still passing through.
but after the second veil a tabernacle which is called Holy of holies,
Hebrews pauses to walk its readers through the old tabernacle, room by room. Here it reaches the curtain that hung inside the tent. That curtain carries the weight of the whole description. It closed off an inner room, and so it told every worshipper how near he could come to God.
The name assumes a count, and the count starts at the entrance.
In Hebrews 9:3 the veil of the Temple is called the "second veil," the curtains at the entrance being counted as the first.
Each curtain let fewer people through than the one before. The last let only one man through, once a year.
The first entrance-curtain, the wide Gate of the Court, seemed to say "Come" to everyone. The second entrance-curtain, the Door of the Holy Place, seemed to say "Come" to any priest whose hands and feet had been washed at the basin. But the third entrance-curtain, the Veil of the Holiest of all, seemed to say "Not yet". The Holy Spirit taught men, by that excluding Veil, that the way into the Holiest of All was not yet made known. That Veil shut out every man except one. But the yearly entrance of that one man was "a shadow of good things to come". It pointed forward to the end of the "not yet" period, and pictured how the way into the Holiest would one day be shown.
The curtain was not just part of the building. God had a reason for hanging it there, and the reason was distance.
Within the second veil no one could enter. God gives His reason: the Holy Spirit was showing by this "that the way into the holiest of all was not yet made known." The purpose of the veil was to show that the people could not come to God. He could give them laws, punish them if they broke them, enable them to look to Him; but they could not come near.
Hebrews does not describe the two rooms evenly. One writer points to a small detail in the wording: gold.
In the outer sanctuary the lampstand was pure gold, and the table of showbread was overlaid with gold. Yet the gold is not mentioned in connection with these, while verse 4 mentions it three times in connection with the holiest… Gold is a picture of the glory of God. That glory was bound up with Judaism, yet God could not reveal it in any full measure under law and its shadows. So the Spirit of God would direct our attention to the greater revelation connected with the holiest. This is a picture of Heaven itself, while the outer sanctuary is a picture of the sphere of Judaism and the earthly priesthood.
One writer begins with what the tabernacle was for, then says what the veil stood for. The figure works two ways at once.
In general the tabernacle was where God dwelt and revealed Himself. The veil was, as we know on the same divine authority, the flesh of Christ. It concealed God in His holiness of judgment — in His perfectness as sovereign justice itself. But it showed Him in perfect grace to those to whom His presence revealed itself.
The cross changed that curtain, and one writer names what God did with it.
On the death of Christ the veil was torn from top to bottom, and God has come out in fullest light. In Christianity the believer has boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus.
Many readers hear that tearing as the veil being done away with. Another writer marks the difference between two words.
The veil is torn in Hebrews; and that is why, as has been said, it is not really "having boldness to enter into the holiest," but into the "holy places," because the two are now joined. Yet that does not mean, as it often seems to be taken to mean, that the veil is removed. "Torn" and "removed" are different things. If the veil is Christ's flesh, that is not removed, nor do we want it removed. By Him we draw near to God; but He had to die that it might be so.
- Counted — It is the second curtain because the count starts at the entrance. Each curtain let fewer people through, and this last one let only one man through, once a year.
- Closed — Its purpose was to show that the people could not come to God. By a curtain that shut them out, the Holy Spirit taught that the way in was not yet made known.
- Golden — Gold is named three times for the inner room and not once for the outer. Gold pictures God's glory, and the inner room pictures heaven itself.
- Flesh — The veil stood for the flesh of Christ. It hid God in His holiness of judgment and showed Him in grace.
- Torn — Christ's death tore the veil from top to bottom, but did not remove it. The two rooms are now one, and the way in is still through Him.
having a golden censer, and the ark of the covenant, covered round in every part with gold, in which [were] the golden pot that had the manna, and the rod of Aaron that had sprouted, and the tables of the covenant;
This verse lists what stood in the innermost room of Israel's tabernacle. Each item is a picture, and the chapter presses one question: what was each one pointing forward to?
The whole system belonged to this world. It was temporary, because the sacrifice that opens the way to God still lay ahead.
The first covenant had many ordinances of divine service, and very instructive ones. Yet the sanctuary was a worldly one, and it could not be anything else. The infinite sacrifice for sin had yet to be offered... So the veil was still not torn, and the way into the holiest was neither open nor revealed... all was of the first creation, shadowy and provisional, at best the witness of good things to come.
Older translations read "a golden censer" here, where the ESV has "the golden altar of incense". On the older reading the incense altar itself, which stood just outside the veil, is missing from the list — and that absence is deliberate.
The reason for leaving out the incense altar is significant: true worship must really be in the presence of God. Unless we are in His presence we cannot be worshippers... But when we come to the holiest of all, the first thing mentioned is the golden censer. That, we might say, is really the altar of incense. It was not the piece of furniture itself. But when Aaron entered the holiest on the day of atonement, he carried this golden censer and offered incense before God on it. So worship is priestly in character, based on atonement, and in the presence of God.
Why does the censer appear inside the veil here? One writer answers from where Christ now is.
Normally the censer was in the holy place; but the holiest was its true place... Now that Christ has entered the presence of God as our Great High Priest, the censer is there with Him... Aaron stood in the holiest and had to come out again; Christ has forever sat down, having offered "a single sacrifice for sins."
Manna was the bread God rained down in the desert. The jar that held it was gold.
If Israel loathed the manna, God told Moses to fill a golden pot with it and put it in the ark of the covenant, to be before Him forever. This means that God will never forget, nor will He allow to be forgotten, that lowly life of Jesus here... God has taken the One whom men despised and loathed and set Him in the very midst of His glory... As a diamond is put into a golden setting because it is the only setting worthy to receive it, so God has set Christ there above every ruler and power, above every name that is named.
The second item in the chest was a dead stick.
There was also Aaron's rod that budded, the witness that God had really called him to the priesthood. It was a rod cut off, its life taken away. Then, in the presence of God, it budded and brought forth fruit. This is a beautiful picture of how Christ, cut off in death, brings forth much fruit in resurrection, and is so marked out as the true Priest.
The stone tablets of the law lay in the same chest. Only one heart ever delighted in that law.
In Psalm 40 the Lord comes into view saying, "I delight to do your will, O my God; your law is within my heart." This is the true answer to the tablets of stone in the ark. 2 Corinthians 3 calls those same tablets a ministry of death. Remember that, and we see the infinite moral distance between Christ as man and the whole human race. What was a ministry of death to man, even under divine training, was in Him the delight of His heart...
The ark travelled through the desert. When its journeys finally ended, its contents were not the same.
These were the contents of the ark on its wilderness journeys: the pot of manna, the record of the Lord's faithfulness in providing for His redeemed in the desert, and Aaron's rod, "a token against the rebels," to "take away their murmurings." Then the moment came for the poles to be drawn out. Israel's wanderings and wars were over. The records of wilderness need and wilderness failure went unnoticed. Nothing remained except what formed the eternal foundation of the throne of the God of Israel and of all the earth. Nothing was left in the ark except the two tablets of stone that Moses put there at Horeb.
- Shadow. The first sanctuary belonged to this world. It was a shadow — at best a witness of good things still to come.
- Censer. The censer, not the altar outside, stands in the holiest, because worship belongs in God's actual presence — and Christ has entered there and stayed.
- Manna. The gold jar holds God's own memory of the lowly life of Jesus; the One men despised, He set in the midst of His glory.
- Rod. A dead stick that budded settles who the true Priest is — one cut off in death and marked out in resurrection.
- Tables. The law that was death to man was Christ's delight — so all three items in the ark point to the same Person.
and above over it the cherubim of glory shadowing the mercy-seat; concerning which it is not now [the time] to speak in detail.
At the centre of Israel's sanctuary stood the ark, with a gold lid and two winged figures bending over it. The writer names them and then stops, and the weight of this verse lies in where those figures looked and why he breaks off.
The word behind "mercy seat" is a technical term. It appears only twice in the New Testament: here, and in Romans, where it names Christ Himself.
It is remarkable that Paul uses a different word from the one used in John's Epistle... In John's Epistle, Christ is called the hilasmos, but in the Epistle to the Romans He is called the hilasterion. The New Testament uses this second word in only one other place, and that use settles its meaning beyond fair question. When the apostle lists the furniture of the holy of holies in the ancient tabernacle, he speaks of the cherubim of glory shadowing the mercy-seat (hilasterion, Heb. 9:5). From these two passages, then, there can be no doubt that Christ is the reality the mercy-seat, or propitiatory, pointed to, just as He is also the hilasmos, the propitiatory sacrifice.
The cherubim also, shadowing the mercy-seat are called "cherubim of glory." ... Jehovah appeared in the cloud upon the mercy-seat — the cloud of glory — and this may be the reason why the cherubim are called "cherubim of glory."
Scripture never describes what these figures looked like. It records where they faced and how their wings were set.
Scripture gives no hint of what the cherubim looked like... but it notes their position and posture with care... They looked down on the covering — the covering that once a year was sprinkled with the blood of atonement. Inside the ark lay the tablets of the law. Yet the ones who carry out God's judgment gazed at God's work of atonement for man, and not at His commands of obedience from man. Their wings — for they did not walk on this earth, they were heaven's swift messengers — stretched up high, covering the mercy-seat; God's throne must be guarded by His heavenly servants. Because they were made of gold, they showed that God's glory in carrying out judgment always keeps His glory in mercy in view!
Sprinkled blood changed what that seat was called, and what it meant.
The capporeth, the seat of atonement, truly became the mercy-seat — the throne of righteousness became a throne of grace. The faces of the cherubim, always symbols of judicial power and so tied to the throne, bent toward the mercy-seat to look at the blood. That blood declared God's righteousness and satisfied it. In Israel all this was still only a picture and a shadow. As yet there was no real way into His presence.
An Israelite hearing about these figures did not think of welcome. He thought of the sword at the gate of Eden.
He thought the cherubim of glory guarded the way into God's presence just as completely as the cherubim with the flaming sword guarded the way to the tree of life at the entrance to the garden of Eden. He thought God was to be kept at a distance. Faith's thought is that through Christ we can draw near with boldness to a throne of grace.
The verse ends by breaking off. One writer explains what the apostle turns to instead.
- Place. The mercy seat is the hilasterion, the propitiatory. Romans uses that word of Christ, so He is the reality the golden lid pictured.
- Blood. Sprinkled blood changed that seat. The throne of righteousness became a throne of grace.
- Gaze. The cherubim look down at the blood-sprinkled covering, not at the law inside the ark. Judgment's own agents read mercy.
- Distance. To an Israelite those figures guarded the way in, as at Eden's gate; faith now draws near with boldness.
- Focus. The writer stops short of explaining them. Glory on display belongs to another day. His subject is Christ — His Person, His finished work, His grace.
Now these things being thus ordered, into the first tabernacle the priests enter at all times, accomplishing the services;
After describing the tabernacle's furniture, the writer turns to what happened inside it. Everything was ready, and the priests went in and out of the outer room day after day — a routine that says something about how far anyone could come to God.
Their work in the first room was daily and hands-on. One writer lists what filled their days, and where their duties stopped.
The whole priestly family went into the first, or holy place, accomplishing the service of God daily. They went in and out, cared for and trimmed the lights on the lampstand, placed the showbread on the table week by week, the fresh witness of Israel's perfect presentation to God. But here their service stopped.
This verse uses a Greek word, latreia, for the priests' service. Older English versions added "of God" to it here; the original text does not.
It is also applied to the services connected with the first covenant — Luke 2:37; Acts 26:7; Romans 9:4; and Hebrews 9:1, 6 (latreia). The original leaves out "divine" and "of God", as if this service was no longer to be recognised as such; the older English version put those words in each time.
The priests came and went freely — but only into the outer room. That limit is the point.
What could show more strongly that the way into the holiest was not yet open? Only priests could enter the holy place. Those same priests, serving there day after day, could never pass on into the holiest. And the high priest himself must not enter the holiest "at all times", but only "once a year". … That tabernacle always told the people who worshipped in it that it was only a picture for the time then present, and that it knew of no service that could make their conscience perfect.
The veil hid the inner room from the men who served closest to it.
The priests could always enter the holy place, but they could go no further. The beautiful veil hid the most holy place from their eyes. They could see the veil itself — blue, purple and scarlet, with finely twisted linen and skilled needlework of cherubim — and it might tell them of the glories hidden behind it. But the golden altar, the ark of the covenant overlaid with gold, the golden pot of manna, Aaron's rod that budded, and the tablets of the covenant were all hidden from their sight.
The high priest's own work never let up either.
How busy Aaron was! He had the yearly sacrifices on the great day of atonement. He also had much to do every day, so that the appointed worshippers could worship. There were the morning and evening sacrifices, besides the occasional ones. At any time he might be called on to offer a trespass offering. So he never could have sat down as a man who had finished his work and could look at it with satisfaction.
The whole system, though God set it up, brought nobody all the way in. Set beside the gospel, the gap is stark.
Still, the law made nothing perfect, whatever shadows of heavenly things it gave. You can see it here. The priests keep entering, but go no further than the first tabernacle, or holy place. Into the holiest goes only the high priest, once in the year, and never without blood, which he offers for himself and for the errors of the people. How far this is from the gospel, which goes out to the ungodly and lost, reconciling to God all who believe by virtue of the death of His Son!
That door has since been opened, and Scripture names what opened it.
Hebrews 9:6, 8 shows that access to the Holiest under the law of Moses was a very rare privilege indeed. But Hebrews 10:19-20 reveals the precious truth that in the favoured day in which we live, we have "confidence to enter the holy places." To this the Holy Spirit adds the deeply important words "by the blood of Jesus." The immensity of this privilege is beyond all human thought.
- Routine. Priests entered the outer room day after day — trimming lamps, setting out the showbread — and their service stopped there.
- Ritual. The original text does not call their work "the service of God"; older English versions added those words.
- Restriction. Free entry into the first room only marked the closed door beyond it. The veil hid the ark of the covenant from the men who served nearest to it.
- Repetition. Morning, evening and occasional offerings meant even the high priest never sat down as a man whose work was done.
- Release. What was a rare privilege for one man once a year is now confidence to enter, by the blood of Jesus.
but into the second, the high priest only, once a year, not without blood, which he offers for himself and for the errors of the people
The writer has just described the two rooms of the tabernacle, and now he draws attention to who could enter the inner one. Everything about the arrangement was designed to say something — and the message was not welcome news.
One writer notes that the limits themselves carried the message.
Nothing showed more forcefully that the way into the holiest was not yet made known than facts like these. None but priests could enter the holy place. Those very priests, serving there day after day, could never pass on into the holiest. And the high priest himself must not enter the holiest "at all times", but only "once a year". ... Its holy places were not open even to those who had services to do there. No one was free to go in and out. There was no way to the mercy seat that was open to all, or open at any time.
The phrase "not without taking blood" is the hinge of the verse. One writer counts how few could come near, and on what terms even they came.
In all the earth there was not one man fit to come into the presence of the holy God without the blood of a slain victim. No, not one; not even the high priest of Israel. Once a year the people of God stood as one nation out of all the nations of the earth. Out of that nation stood one man. Yet even that one man must not come into the presence of God without blood.
Another writer explains why the blood mattered so much:
And why not without blood? Because nothing else shelters sinful man from the wrath of God but the blood; for nothing else remits sin. It would have been death to Aaron to enter the holiest of all without blood.
One writer describes what that blood did once it reached God's throne.
He put it on the throne of God. The cherubim, the supporters of His throne, looked down to the mercy seat, so they could see it and gaze on it. And he left it there. This was enough for God. The moment He saw it, the throne held back. Otherwise its action would have gone out in righteous judgment... No one ever wiped off the blood of the sin offering placed on the mercy seat in this way. It stayed there all year, always before God.
The high priest brought blood "for himself" as well as for the people. That phrase separates Aaron from the priest this letter points to.
In Aaron's case he was "obligated to offer sacrifice for his own sins just as he does for those of the people." Here again we find contrast, not comparison... There is all the difference in the world between Aaron offering FOR himself and Christ offering HIMSELF.
The word translated "errors" or "ignorance" is not a soft word for sin in general. It marks a limit built into the whole sacrificial system.
Under the law the only sins that were provided for were those of ignorance. If a man sinned presumptuously, he was to die without mercy. The law gave no sacrifice for that. In Psalm 19 David says, "Keep back your servant from presumptuous sins" — that is, sins done knowingly. "Who can discern his errors?" There are sins of ignorance. "Declare me innocent from hidden faults" — that is, faults I know nothing about, and yet they are there all the same.
The day came round every year, and that repetition carried its own verdict.
The very nature of the sacrifices shut out the thought of one eternal redemption. Repeating them showed that sin was still there, or there would have been no need to repeat them. The one sacrifice for sins has now been made, and that shows the sins are entirely carried away.
The verse describes a door that was almost always shut. Set that against what believers have now.
What was forbidden to Aaron, apart from a little on one day in the year, is now granted always to every Christian... We are ever welcome there, and welcome in that way.
- Barred. One man, one room, one day a year. The limits themselves said that the way to God was still closed.
- Blood. No one was fit to enter without it; not the nation, not the priests, not even the high priest who carried it in.
- Throne. The high priest put the blood on the mercy seat and left it there. It held back the judgment that would otherwise have gone out.
- Himself. Aaron had to offer for his own sins first; Christ, needing nothing for Himself, offered Himself.
- Open. That one sacrifice never needs repeating. What Aaron was allowed for a moment once a year now belongs always to every believer.
the Holy Spirit shewing this, that the way of the [holy of] holies has not yet been made manifest while as yet the first tabernacle has [its] standing;
The tabernacle was not just furniture and ritual: it was a message, and this verse names the One who spoke through it. The closed inner curtain said "not yet" — and the question is whether anything has changed since.
The meaning of the sanctuary is not left to guesswork.
What then are we to learn from the tabernacle and its services? We are not left to work out our own interpretation. We are told outright that the Holy Spirit has signified their true meaning. First, the services of the tabernacle showed plainly that, under the law, the way into the presence of God was not yet opened.
Moses wrote the plans down. The verse looks behind him to the One using him.
Here we have the Spirit again spoken of as Author, though the human instrument is in this case well known. Moses gave exact directions for building the tabernacle and for the worship in it. He committed it all to writing, which we have to this day. But here we see Who made use of Moses — the Holy Spirit.
Three curtains stood between a man and God, and each said something different.
The first entrance-curtain, the wide Gate of the Court, seemed to say, "Come", to all. The second entrance-curtain, the Door of the Holy Place, seemed to say, "Come", to any priest who had washed his hands and feet at the basin. But the third entrance-curtain, the Veil of the Holiest of all, seemed to say, "Not yet". By that Veil, which shut them out, the Holy Spirit taught men that the way into the holy places was not yet opened.
The elaborate ritual pointed forward, but its immediate lesson was negative.
What did it all mean? No doubt it pointed forward to the blood of Christ as the only ground of approach to God. Yet in the whole arrangement the Holy Spirit was saying that under the old order there was no real approach to God at all. The way in was not yet opened… But as long as the first tabernacle had a standing before God, the rule was: no admittance.
Even the one man who could enter came in on terms that proved nothing was settled.
The high priest could not go into the holiest of all whenever he liked, as the priests could go into the holy place. And he did not enter as a worshipper purged once for all. He went in on the very ground that sin had not been put away for ever.
"The first tabernacle" means more than a tent.
Here "the first tabernacle" means Judaism as a system. It is identified with the first part of the tabernacle, and that part was open only to the priests of the nation. The second part — that is, the sanctuary — only showed, by everything connected with it, that there was no access to God.
Two rooms, kept apart, marked the old worship — and the letter speaks of them as still in use.
Having the two rooms, and keeping them, put the worshipper at a distance from God… As long as God recognised the two, the way into the Holiest was not opened… The present tense reminds us that the Temple service was still going on when the letter was written.
A shut door is evidence about the sacrifices offered at it.
Second, if the way into the Holiest was not yet open, that was clear proof that the sacrifices were not enough. They could not make the offerer perfect in conscience… Under such a system God was shut in and man was shut out. The Jewish system could neither open heaven to us nor fit us for heaven.
What the verse denies to the old order, the death of Christ supplies.
Hebrews 9 declares that Christ has come and His blood has been shed to make atonement. So blessing is now for faith, and it lasts for ever. What was forbidden to Aaron, except a little on one day in the year, is now granted always to every Christian. The way into the holy places has been opened, and it stays open.
Because the veil is torn, there is no longer an outer room to linger in.
The tearing of the veil is what makes both tabernacles one. So the first tabernacle has no standing — no existence as such. If we have come into the true tabernacle at all, we have come into the holiest… There is only one entrance, by the blood of Jesus.
- Speaker. The Holy Spirit spoke through Moses, and He tells us what the tabernacle meant.
- Message. The inner curtain preached one word — "Not yet" — while the outer two said "Come."
- System. "The first tabernacle" stands for Judaism as a system. While it stood before God, the rule was: no admittance.
- Proof. A closed way proved the sacrifices could not perfect the conscience. God was shut in; man was shut out.
- Reversal. The torn veil ends the "not yet". What Aaron was denied all year is now open always to every believer, through one entrance — the blood of Jesus.
the which [is] an image for the present time, according to which both gifts and sacrifices, unable to perfect as to conscience him that worshipped, are offered,
The verse pauses the description of the tabernacle to say what the whole arrangement meant. It was a picture for its own time, and its offerings had a fixed limit: they could not settle the worshipper's conscience. So why could animal sacrifices not reach that deep, and what makes a conscience perfect?
The tabernacle was a teaching picture. Its offerings dealt with outward things, and they came with an end date.
The provisions of the law were admirable as a witness to man's sinfulness and to a coming Redeemer. But they were only surface-level and temporary. They went no further than outward "meats and drinks and various washings." In keeping with that, they touched no deeper needs than "the errors of the people" (verse 7). They were called here "ordinances of flesh imposed until a time of setting right."
The arrangement pictured something, but the picture itself could satisfy no one — neither God nor the worshipper.
Thirdly, these things during their existence were a figure of things to come. The figures, however, could never satisfy God nor meet the need of man. Under such a system God was shut in and man was shut out. The Jewish system could neither open heaven to us nor fit us for heaven.
The problem lay in the value of what the worshipper brought. A conscience can never rise higher than the sacrifice it rests on.
The former could never give a perfect conscience, simply because they were imperfect in themselves. It was impossible that the blood of a bull or of a goat could ever give a perfect conscience. It might do for a day, a month, or a year, but no longer. So the conscience of a Jewish worshipper was never perfect. He could never say that his conscience was perfectly purged, because he had not yet reached a perfect sacrifice.
The yearly repetition proved the point in the worshipper's own experience.
Here is a poor Israelite. He brings his sacrifice, lays his hands on it and kills it. He sees the priest take the blood, sprinkle it on the altar, and burn the victim. He sees the smoke rise, and the priest says, Your trespass is forgiven. And yet on the day of atonement those trespasses, and all the others, were mentioned all over again. He had to conclude they were not really forgiven at all. In other words, his conscience was not perfect, he did not yet have perfect assurance of acceptance, or forgiveness.
"Perfect" is not about a flawless character. It describes a person fit to stand before God and stay there.
First, the sacrifices offered under the law could never put those who came to them in the place of constant worshippers. That is clearly what "perfect" means in this passage. They failed both because they were ineffective in themselves and because they had to be repeated... Now note, to be perfected as a worshipper is to have no more conscience of sins. Surely this exalts worship very highly, because worship is not at all the means of our justification, but that for which we are already justified.
This purged conscience is not the same as a good conscience.
The purged conscience is one that, being "once purged", has no more conscience of sins (Hebrews 10:2). It assumes a conscience that has been exercised about its sins. That exercise is then met: the believer learns that the precious blood of Christ cleanses him from all sins, and that he will never come under judgment. A good conscience is a conscience free of offence in practical ways and walk.
What the old offerings could not do, one finished work has done. Ease comes because nothing is left for us to do.
No conscience can be at ease before God where anything depends on what the person himself is doing or has to do. Yes, I would say, not even if it now had to depend on what Christ has to do, instead of resting on what He has already done... Christ does not have to enter in again, He has no more sacrifice for sin to offer — no other blood to carry in; for where could any be found of like preciousness? All is done once, and once for all.
The tabernacle was a picture. Copying it as a model for worship turns its lesson upside down.
Christendom, instead of seeing in the tabernacle a figure, has used it as a pattern for its religious services. In doing so, it has lost the "good things" the figures speak of. So the mass of people in Christendom have again set up magnificent buildings. They have again railed off one part of those buildings as more holy than the rest. And they have again set up a priestly class distinct from the ordinary people, who perform religious services on their behalf. So Christendom has adopted a system modelled on the Jewish camp. It keeps people at a distance from God and can never make the conscience perfect.
- Figure — The tabernacle was a picture with an end date. Its rules touched only outward things, and they lasted only until God set things right.
- Ceiling — A conscience can never rise above its sacrifice. Imperfect blood gives an imperfect conscience, and the yearly repeat proved the forgiveness was never final.
- Perfect — "Perfect" here means fit to stand as a constant worshipper, with no more conscience of sins. It is not the means of justification but the fruit of it.
- Once — There is no ease before God while anything still depends on what we, or even Christ, have yet to do. Rest lies in what is already finished.
- Warning — Treat this picture as a model — special buildings, holier zones, a priestly class — and you rebuild the very distance that could never perfect anyone.
[consisting] only of meats and drinks and divers washings, ordinances of flesh, imposed until [the] time of setting things right.
The verse ends the description of the old tabernacle system by naming what it amounted to and how long it would last. So why could rules given by God never reach the conscience, and what is the "time of reformation" that closed them?
The verse gathers the whole system under things that touch the body only.
They were external things. They consisted only of meats and drinks and various washings. An Israelite had to be very careful about what food he ate. The law prescribed everything he ate or drank. All of it had to be clean, or else he was defiled... There was a washing at the basin. There was the sprinkling of blood to sanctify the unclean. It went on the bronze altar too, sometimes on the horns of the altar of incense, and once a year on the mercy seat. These could not make the conscience perfect, or give real peace. They were carnal, or fleshly, ordinances. They dealt with the outward man, and with a relationship to God that was outward only. A man might be a good Israelite, clean by the ritual, and yet be a complete stranger to peace with God, to any sense of His love, or to access into His holy presence.
These washings are the "baptisms" the letter mentioned earlier. One dictionary explains what they were, and what they were not.
In Hebrews 6:2 the Hebrew believers were told to leave "the doctrine of baptisms." In Hebrews 9:10 we read of "various baptisms or washings." The words that follow are "imposed until the time of reformation," and that "time" is "Christ being come." So these baptisms were part of the Jewish ritual, which had many washings and bathings. None of them fully signified the baptism of the New Testament, which as the ordinance of entry places the baptised in a new position.
Verse 9 says the gifts and sacrifices could not perfect the worshipper's conscience. One writer traces that failure to what the offerings were made of.
Judaism's great failure, as the apostle shows, was that it could not really purify the conscience and set the soul at rest in the presence of God. In the tabernacle of old, he says, gifts and sacrifices were offered that "cannot perfect the conscience of the worshiper." Why not? Because they consisted only of "meats and drinks, and various baptisms," or purifications — "carnal ordinances." They were ordinances which could not in their very nature affect the condition of the soul.
Weak as they were, these rules were not pointless. They were pictures, and that is why they had to end.
Meats and drinks too were only pictures of the food and refreshment found in the sacrifice of Christ — both for God and for the believer. Various washings and carnal ordinances pictured how the truth of Christ is applied to the soul, with cleansing and sustaining power. Such things were pictures, so of course they were temporary. They were imposed only until the time of reformation, when God would set things in proper relationship and perspective, bringing in a change to end all changes.
When did that time arrive? One writer answers from the very next verse:
Those ordinances were there until the "time of reformation" (verse 10). That term means "setting things right." The time for setting things right has come. Verse 11 turns our thoughts from the carnal ordinances to the work of Christ. There He is, the new High Priest in relation to this new spiritual system, the answer to the parable.
If the ordinances had a fixed end date, going back to them now is worse than being out of date.
Nothing is more empty and pointless than a ritual whose time has passed. Verse 10 says this sharply. Things that once carried all the weight of Jehovah's name are, looking back, powerless and empty... But once the time of reformation has arrived, Truth is no longer hidden under figures. It stands out in its own glory and life. Then the former things are no longer truth, nor even a likeness of truth. To approach Him now through such a channel is to come before His presence with a contradiction of the glory of His Christ.
- Outward — Food rules, drink rules and washings governed the body. A man could keep them all and still be a stranger to peace with God.
- Powerless — The offerings consisted only of these fleshly things, so by their very nature they could not touch the soul.
- Pictorial — They were not meaningless. Meats and drinks pictured the food found in Christ's sacrifice; the washings pictured its cleansing power on the soul.
- Provisional — "Imposed until" fixed a limit. The "time of reformation" means setting everything right, and that time came with Christ, the new High Priest.
- Past — The real thing has come. Going back to the ritual is not old-fashioned devotion but a contradiction of the glory of Christ.