But Christ being come high priest of the good things to come, by the better and more perfect tabernacle not made with hand, (that is, not of this creation,)
Chapter 9 has just described the earthly tent and its closed inner room. Now Christ appears, and everything turns: a new Priest, a new sanctuary, a new sacrifice — and fresh questions about the "good things," the greater tent, and how He came.
The verse does not swap one part of the old system for a better one. It replaces the whole arrangement.
The coming of Christ changes everything. At once we have a new High Priest, a greater and more perfect tabernacle and a new sacrifice. Aaron was high priest in relation to the things of this present world. Christ is our "High Priest of good things to come".
The ESV reads "the good things that have come." Older translations read "good things to come," and the writers quoted here work from that older wording. They differ over the timing. Some read the phrase from where Israel stood under the law, and hold that the good things are still ahead.
In saying "things to come," the starting-point is Israel under the law before our Lord came. But suppose these good things were already obtained. Suppose you could say, "we have them," because Christianity had fulfilled them. Then, once Christianity was established, they could hardly still be called "good things to come." They are yet to come. These "good things" consist of all that the Messiah will enjoy when He reigns.
Others start from the same point and land somewhere else — the blessings believers enjoy now.
Remember, we are looking at things from the standpoint of Judaism. To a Jew, in the time of the law, the good things were not there. They were still to come. They were not shown until Christ's work opened the way into God's presence — into that treasury from which God pours out all the riches of His grace for us. The good things to come are the good things of Christianity... the things which we are now enjoying by faith.
The ESV's "tent" is what older translations call the tabernacle. "Not made with hands" tells us where His ministry is, and rules out any earthly building raised in His honour.
Christ has passed through the heavens. Man's hands did not make these; they are the handiwork of God Himself. Christ has gone into heaven itself; there, in the immediate presence of God, He appears for us. On earth He was not a priest; no tabernacle ever existed on earth suited to so great a High Priest as Jesus the Son of God... To try to honour Him with costly things made by hands is to forget the dignity of our High Priest, and the heavenly order of His priesthood.
Writers do not agree on how far this tent reaches. Some take it as heaven itself. Others see something wider:
The greater and more perfect tabernacle is the one that is eternal. It stands in contrast to the earthly system of Judaism, which was put into men's hands. It would speak of the universe as it stands in the counsels of God — God's eternal building.
The placement of one small phrase changes the sense of the passage.
The point is whether the words "by His own blood" belong with "being come" in verse 11, or with "entered" in verse 12. In our judgment, a careful look shows that "being come," and not "entered," governs the words "by His own blood." Another writer says of the phrase: "dia [that is, "by"] here is, I have no doubt at all, characteristic of His coming. He came in that way. His coming was in the power of these things and marked by them. The tabernacle is not the place He came through, nor His blood the means by which He came."
On that reading, His own blood was not something He needed to gain entry. It marked His entrance — and that had never been heard of before.
A high priest to enter the Holiest with the blood of animals on behalf of Israel was nothing new. But for a High Priest to enter by His own blood — that marking His entrance — was new and unheard of... Aaron entered the Holiest on earth. The Lord has entered the Holiest in heaven... In the Lord's case it was by His own blood. It was not on the strength of it, as if He could not have entered God's presence without it.
The sanctuary is heavenly and the offering is finished. So a class of men still offering sacrifices on earth denies what this verse says.
A special priestly caste — a certain class of men set apart as priests — is not only unknown in Christianity. It is utterly hostile to the spirit and principles of it... a sacrificing priest on the earth is a direct denial of the truth of scripture. It completely sets aside the glorious fact on which Christianity rests: accomplished redemption.
- Christ came. One arrival replaced three things at once: the priest, the sanctuary, and the sacrifice.
- Came as Priest. Aaron served the things of this present world. Christ is High Priest of good things to come.
- Came by blood. His own blood marks the character of His coming. It was not the blood of animals, and it was not something He needed to gain entry.
- Came into heaven. His tent was never built by hands, so no earthly structure or human priesthood can house His ministry.
- Come to us. Writers differ. Are the good things still ahead, when the Messiah reigns, or ours by faith now? Either way, their High Priest is already in His place.
nor by blood of goats and calves, but by his own blood, has entered in once for all into the [holy of] holies, having found an eternal redemption.
This verse is the turning point of the letter's argument. It sets one High Priest, one entrance and one sacrifice against a ritual Israel repeated every year. Three questions follow: what "by His own blood" means, where Christ obtained that redemption, and why it is called eternal.
Every phrase looks back to Israel's yearly ceremony. On that day the high priest carried animal blood into the innermost room of the tabernacle, Israel's tent of worship. The contrast is not only in the blood, but in how long the result lasts:
Christ has entered the Holiest of all by virtue of His own blood. He has gone in to stay. When Aaron entered the Holiest of all in the tabernacle in the wilderness, it was only for a time, and it happened only once a year... What a beautiful contrast with "His own blood," by which He has entered "once," never to be repeated. And with it He obtained an "eternal redemption." The Old Testament had no thought of an eternal redemption.
One writer draws out what Christ's own blood was not for:
He entered the holy place once for all, the curtain now being torn. There He stays, without change and without any need of repetition — in clear contrast with anything of that kind. And His own blood was not for Himself, as if He needed some sacrifice to let Him in. With that blood He found an eternal redemption.
Commentators differ in emphasis. Some say Christ entered "by virtue of" His blood. Others say the blood marked His entrance, and was not something He needed for Himself. But they agree on why a representative must carry blood at all:
He had a personal right to enter because of who He was. But He could not enter that way as our representative. If He is to appear for us, He must come with the witness of the blood. The priest, who appeared for the people and for himself, had to carry the blood into the holiest.
Some read this verse as though the atonement happened when Christ arrived in heaven. One writer meets that head-on:
"With His own blood He entered into the holies, having obtained eternal redemption" (Hebrews 9:12) — the very text people misuse to support the error that propitiation was made only then and there. He obtained that redemption neither in heaven nor on earth, but "lifted up" on the cross. There God made Him, who knew no sin, to be sin. And once atonement was made in that way, its power reached inside the holiest at that very moment. "It is finished," said the One who poured out His soul to death.
He quotes an older translation of the verse here; the ESV reads "thus securing an eternal redemption."
The word for "obtained" can also read "found." One writer asks what the finding cost:
But where did He have to go to find it? He had to go to the cross. It meant He had to shed His blood and give up His life to get redemption for us.
The word "eternal" runs like a thread through this letter. It stands against a background of things that ran out:
His sacrifice works forever, in the strictest sense of the word. The word "eternal" comes up often, and with special stress, in the letter to the Hebrews. Why eternal? Because it stands against the temporary character of everything like it among the sons of Israel. So we find not only eternal redemption, but eternal salvation, eternal inheritance and eternal covenant. Each of these words points the same way: it lifts the believing Hebrews up to feel at home with what lies beyond time.
That puts the believer's standing beyond the reach of his own behaviour:
He has found a redemption that seals our relationship with God forever! — not for a year, and not on condition of our good behaviour. Who would dare to let his relationship with God depend on his own good behaviour?
The word "once" is not a small detail. The letter drives it home again and again:
Notice too how the letter says again and again that the sacrifice of Christ is one sacrifice, offered once and for ever. It sets this fact before us six times, in the passage that begins at Hebrews 9:12 and ends at Hebrews 10:14. Search that passage and see for yourself.
- Blood — Christ entered heaven with His own blood, not with the blood of animals. That is the difference between a yearly ceremony and a finished work.
- Cross — Christ obtained the redemption at the cross, not on arrival in heaven. "It is finished," said the One who poured out His soul to death.
- Once — Aaron entered each year and came out again. Christ entered once and stays, with no change and no repeat.
- Eternal — the word stands against everything temporary in the old system. It covers salvation, inheritance and covenant too.
- Secure — a redemption that lasts forever cannot be held for a year at a time or made to depend on good behaviour.
For if the blood of goats and bulls, and a heifer's ashes sprinkling the defiled, sanctifies for the purity of the flesh,
The verse looks back at two rituals from Israel's law. One is the blood of the yearly day of atonement. The other is water mixed with the ashes of a burnt heifer. Both really did something. The question is how far that "something" reached — and what it proves about a better sacrifice.
Israel's law had many ceremonies. Why does the verse name only these two?
Israel's law had almost countless rites, yet only these two are mentioned here: the day of atonement, and the cleansing by the ashes of the heifer. They are named because it is by them that the complete process of sanctification was carried out. The two parts of this sanctification are clearly distinct, though as a whole it is described as a "purifying of the flesh." First comes the cleansing of the worshipper himself by the accepted offering on the day of atonement. By the yearly forgiveness of his sins, God restored him each year to an acceptable standing. Second, he is sanctified in his way by the later provision of the water of purification.
The second rite is less familiar than the first.
The ashes of a heifer sprinkled on the unclean remind us of the service in Numbers 19 — the provision against defilements along the way. The heifer was offered without blemish. The priest laid his hands on it, and then it was killed and completely burnt. Its ashes were kept in a clean place outside the camp. Whenever an Israelite was unclean because of some defilement that had come on him — contact with the dead, or anything of that sort — the priest took the ashes, mixed them with water, and sprinkled the unclean person on the third and seventh days. He then came back into outward fellowship with the people of God. In other words, it worked for the purifying of the flesh. This had to do, not with access to God, but with communion.
So what were the ashes for?
They were kept simply and solely with a view to communion — that is, to restore it when it was broken. It is not at all a question of establishing relationships; that was already done. But on the ground of the relationship that already exists, the Israelite must allow nothing along the way that would stain the holiness that suits the sanctuary of the Lord.
The verse admits these rites worked. But look at the words it uses for the result: "for the purification of the flesh."
These formal ordinances accomplished a formal result. "The purifying of the flesh" was merely an outward, public setting apart from the sin for which the sacrifice was offered. The very fact of the sacrifice was a public condemnation of the sin, and the offerer publicly linked himself with that rejection of the sin. But there was no vital, eternal value in it.
The same writer asks what such a sprinkling could do about real moral failure.
Suppose you fall into some defilement of soul through contact with anything in this chamber of death — this world where we are living — and the ashes of a heifer are sprinkled on you. What effect could it possibly have? Absolutely none.
The verse begins with "if." Verse 14 finishes the sentence with "how much more." So where should our confidence rest?
The whole question hinges, not on the character or condition of the offerer, but on the value of the offering. The question is not at all whether a Christian is a better man than a Jew. It is whether the blood of Christ is better than the blood of a bullock. It certainly is better. How much better? Infinitely better. The Son of God gives all the dignity of His own divine Person to the sacrifice He offered. If the blood of a bullock purified the flesh for a year, "how much more" shall the blood of the Son of God purge the conscience for ever? If that took away some sin, how much more shall this take away all?
One writer applies the heifer to the believer today. Notice what is not repeated.
The ordinance of the red heifer was an exceptional form of sin offering. It did not have atonement in view. It was for the cleansing by water of people who had their home and place in the camp, where the Lord's sanctuary was, and who had become defiled along the way. By the word, the Holy Spirit applies the truth of the condemnation of sin in the cross of Christ to the heart and conscience. He purifies the believer, without applying the blood again.
- Flesh — the old rites reached the body and the outward standing. They truly "sanctify," but only "for the purification of the flesh."
- Flesh restored — the heifer's ashes did not make an Israelite one of God's people. They brought back a member whose fellowship had been broken along the way.
- Flesh exposed — a formal ordinance gives a formal result. Sprinkled ashes could do nothing for a soul that was truly defiled.
- Conscience — the worth of the offering decides everything, not the worth of the offerer. A bullock's blood purified the flesh for a year; Christ's blood purges the conscience for ever.
- Conscience kept — the pattern holds for the believer. The Spirit applies the truth of the cross by the word, and never applies the blood a second time.
how much rather shall the blood of the Christ, who by the eternal Spirit offered himself spotless to God, purify your conscience from dead works to worship [the] living God?
If the old sacrifices could clean an unclean body, what must the blood of Christ reach? Everything in the verse turns on who the Offerer is, by what power He offered, and what that offering does to a guilty conscience.
Those sacrifices only reached the body. Christ's blood goes deeper, and the reason lies in the One who offered it.
If these things sanctified "to the cleanness of the flesh," how much more shall the blood of the Christ cleanse your conscience from dead works to serve a living God in worship? Only consider the Christ, glorious in Himself, in the character of His offering, "who by an eternal Spirit offered Himself spotless to God." As He stands alone, so does that offering of Himself. Here the Holy Spirit's part in it carries the title "an Eternal Spirit": eternity marks this letter all through.
Israel's high priest brought a victim other than himself, and he needed one for his own sins first. Here priest and sacrifice are the same Person.
In Aaron's case he had, "as for the people, so also for himself, to offer for sins." In this we again find contrast and not comparison... There is all the difference in the world between Aaron offering FOR himself and Christ offering HIMSELF.
The Spirit carries an unusual title here. One writer draws a conclusion from that single word.
Hebrews 9:14 says, "Christ … through the eternal Spirit offered Himself without spot to God." Here we are told the Spirit of God is eternal. Now that ascribes Deity to Him. Only Deity can be from eternity, without beginning and without end.
The same phrase also tells us what moved Him to make that offering.
He offered Himself to God — but as moved by the power, and according to the perfection of the eternal Spirit. All the motives that governed this action, and the carrying out of it according to those motives, were purely and perfectly those of the Holy Spirit. They were absolutely divine in their perfection, yet they were of the Holy Spirit acting in a man... so that it is the Man Christ who offers Himself. This had to be so.
The words "without spot" (ESV: "without blemish") describe more than a clean record at the cross. They gather up the whole life that led there.
He was without blemish. He in whom all these holy excellencies dwelt offered Himself to be a sacrifice for sin. The inward devotion of His life to God that made Him altogether pleasing to God in life carried Him into death for the accomplishment of the will of God.
Three names stand together in this one sentence: Christ, the Spirit, and God. That shapes how far the offering reaches.
Notice, moreover, the majesty which characterizes the one offering of Christ. All three Persons of the Godhead stand related to it. The spotless Son of God offered Himself. It was to God that He offered Himself; and it was by the eternal Spirit He did it. No wonder that all sin comes within its scope, and that its results abide for eternity.
"Dead works" is not another word for scandalous sin. It covers respectable religion and decent effort where there is no life toward God.
Dead works are those done by a man who has no divine life, no true relationship with God... The apostle does not say sinful works merely; it is dead works, whatever they may have been. They may have been mere religious rituals, or acts of charity — works that look blameless and kind. There may be much that is commendable in the eye of man, yet God may write "dead works" upon it all.
Nothing we do clears the conscience. God's satisfaction with the sacrifice already made does it, and that turns a worker into a worshipper.
Christ has offered Himself without spot to God. God has accepted the great sacrifice and is infinitely satisfied with Christ and His shed blood. So the conscience of the believer is relieved of all thought of working to secure the blessing. Such works, however good in themselves, would only be dead works. So, set free in conscience,, the believer becomes a worshipper of God.
But that freedom is not carelessness about sin:
The man who thinks lightly of sin, thinks lightly of the blood of Christ... No, we are purged from all our dead works in order that, in blessed contrast, we might serve the living and true God. Christ has introduced us into the presence of that living God, and our service is to Him now.
- Eternal Offerer — Aaron offered for himself; Christ offered Himself. Priest and victim are one Person, and He stands alone.
- Eternal Spirit — a Man made the offering, but through the eternal Spirit, so the motives behind it were God's own.
- Eternal reach — all three Persons of the Godhead stand related to this one offering. So all sin comes within its scope.
- Eternal cleansing — the blood reaches past the body to the conscience. It clears away "dead works": not just wicked deeds, but blameless, lifeless religion.
- Eternal service — a cleared conscience stops working to earn blessing and starts to worship. Freedom from dead works is freedom for the living God.
And for this reason he is mediator of a new covenant, so that, death having taken place for redemption of the transgressions under the first covenant, the called might receive the promise of the eternal inheritance.
This verse looks two ways at once: back to a mountain of unpaid offences under the law, and forward to an inheritance that lasts forever. Both rest on one death, and the word "Therefore" ties that death to the blood just described.
The verse looks back to the blood just described. That sacrifice qualifies Him for the position He now fills.
The blood which Jesus has shed gives Him a title to be the Mediator of the new covenant. This blood could not belong to the first covenant. Under that covenant, purification only applied to defilements of the flesh. This blood belongs to the second. It is the foundation of this covenant, under which sin is no more before God.
A mediator stands between two sides. Moses filled that role under the old covenant. The comparison shows what makes this one better.
To be a mediator (or, as people say today, to "broker a deal") you need to have access to both parties and be able to relate to both. Moses was the mediator of the old covenant… He alone was allowed to draw near to God (Ex. 24:1–2)… But Christ is mediator of "a better covenant, which is established on the footing of better promises" (8:6). These promises are better because they are unconditional. They include the blessing of forgiveness… He alone could establish that covenant. He was ready and able to lay the foundation for its blessings — on the cross.
Older English Bibles printed "testament" here — that is, a person's will. One writer tests that word against the verse:
"First" what? "Testament" is said here, but it is clearly wrong. How can you speak of "the transgressions of the first will"?… A second will always cancels the first. But here the first was painfully effective, because it produced transgressions… Besides, what have transgressions to do with a will? The moment you bring in "first covenant," everything is easy, plain and forcible. The first covenant was the law, and what the law brought in was transgressions.
The verse names a debt behind and a promise ahead, and one death answers both.
His death had a twofold bearing. It brought redemption for the transgressions under the old covenant. It also became the basis for the promise linked with the new. Something had to remove the mighty mountain of transgressions piled up under the law. And something was needed if God was to call people with an eternal inheritance in view. Both these great ends come "by means of death" — the death of Christ.
Sins committed under the law had long gone unpunished. That raised a question about God's own justice.
Because of His death the Lord said, through the prophet, "I will remember their sins and their lawless deeds no more." That is the voice of the new covenant. The old covenant could only demand obedience, and when a man failed, sentence him to die. But now His death has taken place. It upheld the law's authority to the utmost. So grace can act freely and grant remission of sins, instead of keeping the memory of them alive. More than that: it can righteously vindicate God's patience in the past. That is "for the redemption of the transgressions" committed under that legal system, with its penalty of death for the offender.
The promise goes to "those who are called." That word decides who is included, and it lets in more than one group.
It reaches backwards, applying itself to transgressions committed beforehand. It applies now to the state of those who are called… Everything in this present period happens by calling. Calling opens the door of the new covenant to those who found themselves under the grave consequences of the first. It opens the same door to those who never belonged to it at all.
The word "eternal" marks a contrast. Under the law, Israel could keep its land only by obeying.
This stands in marked contrast with the law. If Israel had kept it, they would have retained the earthly inheritance. But those who share the heavenly calling receive their inheritance by divine promise. It does not rest on their responsibility, so it cannot be lost.
- Blood — His sacrifice gives Him the title of Mediator. The office rests on the cross.
- Backwards — His death pays for the offences piled up under the law and clears the old debt.
- Between — as Mediator He reaches both sides. Unlike Moses, He laid the covenant's foundation Himself.
- Beckoned — the blessing now comes by calling. It reaches those under the first covenant and those never under it.
- Beyond — the called do not get land held by obedience. They get an eternal inheritance that rests on promise and cannot be lost.
(For where [there is] a testament, the death of the testator must needs come in.
The letter has been speaking about covenants. Now it turns to something every reader knows: a will, and the death that makes it take effect.
One Greek word lies behind "covenant" all through the New Testament, and it is the word used here. Commentators differ on whether these two verses are the exception.
On the question of "covenant" or "testament": "covenant" is always right, except in Hebrews 9:16-17. Even here some have disputed it, but it seems simpler to take it as "testament" — an observation made in passing. The Greek word means covenant, or testament, or disposition.
Read "covenant" here and the sentence is no longer true. Two people can make an agreement without either of them dying.
Where men make a covenant, is it in the least necessary that either of the contracting parties should die? Jacob and Laban made a covenant between them. But did it need Jacob or Laban to die before it was valid? If either had died, that would have been the end of it. But when the man who makes a testament dies, the will takes effect. Then, and only then, can his children — or whoever he left his property to — receive the benefit.
The verse before this one promised an eternal inheritance to those God calls. That word inheritance is what brings a will into view.
How does anybody usually get an inheritance? By a testament, of course, as everyone knows... So no picture could be more natural. If God meant certain people He had called to have an inheritance, there should be a testament about it. That the word here means "testator" is to me beyond question. As far as I know, it is never used to mean "covenanting victim," as some argue — and I do not believe it ever could be.
The verse calls for the death of the one who made the will. Apply that to Christ, and it reaches back to the day He became man.
The Lord became a man so that He could die, and so give us an everlasting inheritance — and a great deal more besides. He who had spoken at Sinai is the very same One who came to die. The figure of a testator therefore applies in all its force. He was pleased to die like this, though in His divine nature He could not die. So in His infinite grace He stooped to share in blood and flesh, so that He might die.
Any death will not do. A will takes effect only when the person who wrote it dies. With Christ the order is reversed.
The second meaning of the word comes in to show that death is necessary — and not just any death, but the death of the testator, the one who gives the blessing. Without this the testament would have no validity at all. No one could enforce it, and no benefit could pass to anyone. And in this sense the reality goes beyond even this God-given illustration. In the normal run of things death is unavoidable, and the will coming into force is a consequence. But our blessed Lord endured death so that He could give the blessing.
A will can be written long before it takes effect. The death turns the plan into a possession — and it covers more than the future inheritance.
You might say the will was drawn up in eternity... But does that secure the inheritance to us? Something has to come in so that the will of the Testator may be made good — the death of the Testator... And this does not only look forward to the eternal inheritance. It also looks back over all our blessings. So everything we have had, even our daily mercies, is part of those purchased and bequeathed blessings.
In ordinary life the one who makes the will is gone when it takes effect. Here He is not.
The death of the Testator had taken place, and the testament had been placed into the Father's hands. He has answered the perfect trust of His beloved Son. He raised Him from the dead and made Him the Trustee and Administrator of the Will of God... So the Will will be carried out not only according to the letter of it, but according to the spirit of it too, and not one detail of it shall fail.
- Word — one Greek term means both covenant and testament. Commentators differ here, and many read "testament" because of the inheritance just named.
- Test — a covenant needs nobody to die. A will does, so only a will makes this verse true.
- Death — the Testator is Christ, who became man so that He could die and leave us the inheritance.
- Estate — the will dates back to eternity. His death makes good the future inheritance and every daily mercy along the way.
- Executor — no human testator comes back. The Father raised Him, and He now carries out His own will, so not one detail fails.
For a testament [is] of force when men are dead, since it is in no way of force while the testator is alive.)
Verse 17 borrows a rule everyone knows: a will only works once the person who made it has died. Commentators ask why the word for "covenant" in these chapters means "testament" here, and what that teaches about the death of Christ.
What tips the word toward "testament" is the eternal inheritance named at the end of verse 15.
The end of verse 15 is what suggests "testament": "those who are called may receive the promised eternal inheritance." How does anybody normally get an inheritance? By a testament, of course, as everyone knows. That has been the usual arrangement in every settled country, in every age. So nothing could be a more natural picture. If God intended certain called persons to have an inheritance, there should be a testament about the matter.
Not everyone has agreed. One writer notes the debate and still lands on "testament":
As to the question of "covenant" or "testament": "covenant" is always right, except in Hebrews 9:16-17. Some have argued against it even here, but it seems simpler to take it as "testament." In Greek the word can mean covenant, testament, or disposition.
Try "covenant" instead and it stops working. One writer tests it on Jacob and Laban, two men who made a covenant with each other:
When people make a covenant, is it in any way necessary that either side should die? Jacob and Laban made a covenant with each other. Did it need Jacob or Laban to die to be valid? If either had died, that would have ended it. But when the man who makes a testament dies, then and only then can his children receive the benefit through the will. The same is true for anyone else he has left his property to.
Applied to Christ, the picture fits. He is the testator — the one who makes the will — and He came to die.
Some try to slip in the death of sacrifices here. But the word means a testator, not a victim killed to seal a covenant. The Lord became a man so that He might die, to give us (a great deal more, but also) an everlasting inheritance. The One who had spoken at Sinai is the very same One who came to die. So the figure of a testator applies in all its force. He was pleased to die in this way, though in His divine nature He could not die. He therefore stooped, in the infiniteness of His grace, to share in blood and flesh so that He might die.
At one point the reality outruns the illustration:
Without the death of the testator the testament would have no validity at all (it would not be enforceable) and no benefit could pass to anyone. And in this sense the reality goes beyond even this God-given illustration. In the usual course of things death cannot be avoided, and the testament coming into force follows from it. But our blessed Lord endured death so that He could give the blessing!
The will goes back to eternity, and it covers more than the inheritance still to come.
You might say God drew up the will in eternity. Ephesians says He "blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world." But does that secure the inheritance to us? Something has to happen before the Testator's will can take effect — the death of the Testator... This looks forward to the eternal inheritance, and it also looks back over all our blessings. So everything we have had, even our daily mercies, is part of what He purchased and left to us.
Then comes the part no human will can copy:
The death of the Testator had taken place, and the testament had been placed in the Father's hands. He has answered the perfect trust of His beloved Son by raising Him from the dead and making Him the Trustee and Administrator of the Will of God. This means the Will will be carried out not just according to its letter, but according to its spirit too. Not one detail of it shall fail.
Nothing about it is still waiting:
He left us all the blessing in dying — it came into complete force at once. We are freed once for all through His death. There is no altering it.
- Inheritance — Verse 15 promises an eternal inheritance, and people receive an inheritance by a will, not by a covenant.
- Necessity — A covenant never needs its makers to die. A will only works once its maker has died, and that is why this is the one place the word means "testament."
- Death — Christ took flesh and blood so that He could die, and He died on purpose to hand over the blessing.
- Contents — God drew up the will in eternity, and it covers the heavenly inheritance and our daily mercies alike.
- Certainty — The Father raised the Testator to administer His own will. It came into force at once, and nothing can alter it.
Whence neither the first was inaugurated without blood.
The writer has just spoken of wills and the death that makes them valid. Now he turns back to Israel: even the first covenant began with blood. Why did a covenant of law need death at all? And what did that blood say to the people?
Blood was never an optional extra in God's dealings with people. The blood at Sinai carried a different force from the blood of Christ, yet it taught the same need.
The first covenant did not forget this need: a covenant must rest on the blood of a victim. Everything was sprinkled with blood. Only, in this case, it was the solemn sanction of death attached to the obligation of the covenant. The types always spoke of the necessity of death coming in before men could be in relationship with God. Sin had brought in death and judgment. We must either face that judgment ourselves, or see our sins blotted out because another has faced it for us.
English versions move between "covenant" and "testament" in these verses. One Greek word lies behind both.
We have read of a covenant, the word for which in the original also bears the meaning of testament. We are to be reminded how the first covenant was ratified: by blood, the blood of the sacrifices. Before he comes to that, the writer recalls to his readers how in ordinary life there is the need of death — the death of the one who made the testament — before a testament can be valid. We can see why the thought of a testament comes in at verses 16 and 17: the Lord had to die for the new covenant to be made. To ratify the first covenant, Moses shed the blood of animals. The Lord gave His own.
The blood that sealed this covenant was a warning, not a comfort. It fixed the penalty for breaking what the people had agreed to.
The blood is sprinkled, as though calling God to witness. Sprinkled on the altar it was a witness that the law, if broken, called for the shedding of blood, the execution of judgment. Sprinkled on the people, it declared that if they broke that law they would be the objects of God's wrath, on the terms of the covenant. In other words, they would not merely be condemned like the rest of the world for general sinfulness. They would be condemned specifically as people who had entered a covenant relationship with God and broken it.
That blood bound the people to the covenant; it did not remove their sins:
It is a great mistake to suppose that the blood there is used as a sign of the putting away of sin. The meaning here, I take it, is this: the people formally pledged themselves to legal obedience, and bound themselves in this solemn way to obey. The blood sprinkled came from the animals killed in view of the old covenant. In the same way, they did not shrink from that dreadful and extreme penalty if they failed to obey the will of God. It was calling down death on themselves from God if they violated His commandments.
Moses sprinkled two things: the people and the book. Each act carried a different weight.
Sprinkling the people seems to have reminded them that death was the penalty of disobedience. Any breach of its demands meant the death penalty on them. Sprinkling the book, on the other hand, would show that death was necessary as the basis of everything. So even the law system was not dedicated without blood. The inspired writer adds this fact here, because it is exactly the point of the argument in this letter.
The verse opens with a link word — "Therefore" in the ESV, "whence" in older versions. It ties the general rule about death to Israel's history, and the likeness between the covenants only sharpens the contrast.
A testament is only valid once a death has taken place. The connecting word "whence" shows that this general principle also applied to the old covenant, which was likewise inaugurated with blood. This is a clear parallel between both covenants, and yet what a contrast! The blood of the first covenant testified that anyone breaking it deserved death. The blood of the new covenant tells us that the mediator has paid the price: His blood was shed.
- Blood first. Even the covenant of law began with blood. Death has always had to come in before people can stand in relationship with God.
- Blood as warning. Sprinkled on the people, it called God to witness. Break the covenant, and death follows.
- Blood as foundation. Sprinkled on the book, it showed that death underlies everything God does — the very point this letter is pressing.
- Blood as will. One Greek word means both covenant and testament. A testament needs the death of the one who made it. Moses gave the blood of animals; Christ gave His own.
- Blood as payment. The same ceremony, the opposite message. The old blood said the breaker deserved to die. The new says the mediator has died instead.
For every commandment having been spoken according to [the] law by Moses to all the people; having taken the blood of calves and goats, with water and scarlet wool and hyssop, he sprinkled both the book itself and all the people,
At Mount Sinai the people had just heard the law read aloud and had promised to obey it. What follows is a strange ceremony. Blood is mixed with water and splashed over both the written book and the crowd. The question is what that blood was saying.
The letter looks back to the day the first covenant came into force. One commentator contrasts it with the rescue God had already worked for Israel:
The first covenant was inaugurated with blood, as we read in Exodus 24. This is not redemption, but in the strongest contrast with it. The picture of redemption had already been given (Exodus 12, 14). It was the blood of the Passover lamb, followed by the crossing of the Red Sea. That blood sheltered them from the judgment of God. The power that came next set the people free from their enemies, destroyed for ever. But now Israel, far from God, had agreed to stand on the condition of their own obedience (Exodus 19). God had spoken those ten words that would test the people.
If you turn back to Exodus 24, several things in this verse are simply not there. Writers note the additions carefully:
It is of interest to note that when this is referred to in Hebrews we are given details not given to us in Exodus. He took "water, and scarlet wool, and hyssop," and further, he sprinkled not only the people but also the book that he had written.
The sprinkling was not a rite of forgiveness. The clue is that everything got the same treatment — altar, scroll, and crowd alike:
It cannot be atonement, because the people and the book are sprinkled equally with the altar; nor, for the same reason, could it be cleansing. The life is in the blood (Leviticus 17:11). So the blood, and the shedding of it, stands for death. And death, when it is joined to sacrifice, stands for the penalty of sin. So here the sprinkling of the blood means death as the punishment the law lays down. The people promised obedience. Then Moses sprinkled them, and the book as well, to teach that death would be the penalty for breaking the law.
Commentators differ on whether the book and the people carry the same message. One writer keeps them apart:
The sprinkling of the people seems to have reminded them that death was the penalty of disobedience. Any breach of the law's demands meant the death penalty for them. The sprinkling of the book, on the other hand, shows that death was necessary as the basis of everything.
The blood called God in as a witness to the terms. It also put Israel in a different position from the rest of the world:
The blood is sprinkled, as though calling God to witness. Sprinkled on the altar, it was a witness that the law, if broken, called for the shedding of blood and the carrying out of judgment. Sprinkled on the people, it declared that if they broke that law they would be the objects of God's wrath, according to the terms of the covenant. In other words, they would not just be condemned like the rest of the world for their general sinfulness. They would be condemned as people who had entered the covenant relationship with God and then broken it.
These three items reappear elsewhere in the law, and that is where their sense is found:
Here we are told that the medium through which he did this was "water, scarlet wool, and hyssop"... These details suggest the two kinds of atoning work, if I may put it that way. One had to do with the sanctuary: the blood of the sacrifice carried in and sprinkled on the mercy seat. The other was the ashes of the red heifer, which was burned whole, with cedar and hyssop and scarlet wool.
One dictionary explains what hyssop stands for:
The hyssop is in contrast to the stately cedar, and is symbolic of man's littleness.
Both covenants began with blood. That is what makes the contrast so sharp:
This is a clear parallel between both covenants — and yet what a contrast! The blood of the first covenant testified that anyone breaking it would deserve death. The blood of the new covenant tells us that the mediator paid the price; His blood was shed.
- Blood binds. At Sinai the covenant was sealed in blood, with God called in as witness to the terms.
- Blood accuses. Book, altar and people were all sprinkled alike. So this blood cannot mean atonement. It names death as the penalty for breaking the law.
- Blood indicts. Sprinkled on the people, it warned them. They would be judged not as sinners in general, but as covenant-breakers who had agreed to the terms.
- Blood points. The water, scarlet wool and hyssop point to the sanctuary sacrifice and the red heifer. Hyssop, the lowly plant, marks how small man is.
- Blood saves. The new covenant opens with blood too — but there the Mediator pays the penalty the first covenant only announced.
saying, This [is] the blood of the covenant which God has enjoined to you.
Moses read the law aloud at Sinai, then threw sacrificial blood over the book and over the people. Hebrews quotes what he said as he did it, to prove that no covenant ever begins without blood — and to ask what that blood told the people it touched.
The blood here is not the blood of the Passover lamb. God had already redeemed Israel out of Egypt before they agreed to the terms of law:
The first covenant was inaugurated with blood, as we read in Exodus 24. This is not redemption, but stands in the strongest contrast with it. God had already given the picture of redemption in the blood of the Passover lamb, followed by the crossing of the Red Sea. The blood sheltered them from the judgment of God. The power that came next set the people free from enemies destroyed for ever. But now Israel, far from God, had agreed to stand on the condition of their own obedience... This letter says Moses sprinkled that blood on the book and on all the people. It showed one thing only: death as the penalty of disobedience. So it was in no way propitiatory but penal.
The ESV says God "commanded" this covenant; older translations say He "enjoined" it. Israel had promised obedience, and the sprinkled blood fixed that promise in place:
In the former covenant the people were contracting parties. So the blood Moses sprinkled stood as a witness against them: the slightest failure to keep its terms would cost them their life... For the people, the Lawgiver's own words declared what it meant. He had just read out the commandments of the Lord in their hearing. "This is the blood of the covenant which God has enjoined to you." It was the solemn and significant fastening of that yoke of bondage, from which only the blood of a human life could set them free.
The blood marked both the written terms and the people who had agreed to them. That double sprinkling carried a double message, and it put Israel where no other nation stood:
The blood is sprinkled, as though calling God to witness. On the altar, it was a witness that the law, if broken, called for the shedding of blood and the carrying out of judgment. On the people, it declared that if they broke that law they would be the objects of God's wrath, on the terms of the covenant. In other words, they would not just be condemned like the rest of the world for general sinfulness. They would be condemned as people who had entered a covenant relationship with God and broken it.
Hebrews lists items the Exodus account leaves out — water, scarlet wool, hyssop. Those extras point to more than one kind of atoning work:
If you turn to the Old Testament passage, you will find no mention there of the things that went with this sprinkling. Exodus only tells us that he sprinkled half the blood on the altar and the other half on the book and the people. Here we learn the means he used: "water, scarlet wool, and hyssop"... These details suggest the two kinds of atoning work. One had to do with the sanctuary: the blood of the sacrifice carried in and sprinkled on the mercy seat. The other was the ashes of the red heifer, burned whole with cedar, hyssop and scarlet wool.
Both covenants opened with blood. That likeness makes the difference sharper:
There is a clear parallel between the two covenants, and yet what a contrast! The blood of the first covenant testified that anyone breaking it deserved death. The blood of the new covenant tells us that the mediator has paid the price: His blood was shed.
Christ's words over the cup reach back to Egypt and to Sinai together:
The Lord's supper refers both to the Passover and to Sinai. "Do this in remembrance of me" points to Egypt, and so does the occasion itself; "the new covenant in my blood" points to Sinai. As Passover, it is the memory of deliverance through One broken for us — deliverance from judgment and wrath. As blood of the covenant, it puts us in a new relationship, on the ground of grace through the forgiveness of sins.
- Sealed. No covenant begins without blood. Moses opened the first by sprinkling the book of the law and the people who had promised to keep it.
- Binding. Israel signed on as contracting parties. God enjoined the terms on them: a yoke fastened, not a gift handed over.
- Penal. This blood was not propitiation but penalty. It announced death as the price of disobedience, and marked Israel as covenant-breakers if they failed.
- Fuller. Hebrews adds water, scarlet wool and hyssop to the Exodus record. The details tie the moment to the wider work of atonement.
- Answered. Christ took up the same words over the cup. Moses' blood said what the covenant-breaker deserved; His blood says the mediator has paid it.
And the tabernacle too and all the vessels of service he sprinkled in like manner with blood;
Moses had just sprinkled the book of the law and the people. Now the blood goes onto the tent itself and every tool used in its service. That raises a plain question. Why would a building and its furniture need cleansing, when the people were the ones who had sinned?
The sprinkling of the people came at the giving of the law, but the tent did not exist yet. One writer treats that gap as decisive:
Moses sprinkled the tabernacle too, and all the vessels of the ministry, in the same way with the blood. This must be a different occasion from the inauguration of the law. One fact alone makes it clear: neither the tabernacle nor the vessels belonging to it existed yet.
Commentators differ here, because the Old Testament nowhere records this exact act:
The connection with Sinai (Hebrews 9:19) tends to show that it was then, and not recorded in the Old Testament. Still, Hebrews 9:21 does not settle whether it happened when the tabernacle was set up. Verse 22 clearly makes the statement general, so we may suppose he was already past Sinai.
The tent was God's meeting place, pitched in the middle of a people who kept sinning. Blood was the safeguard:
This provision was needed to guard the meeting place with God, and the vessels for service, from defilement. Without the sprinkling of the blood, everything would have become defiled. A sinful people were involved, and God was holy.
Blood marked everything inside — veil, table, altar, lampstand. One writer imagines an outsider objecting to the mess, and a priest answering him:
What do you mean by these marks of blood on that glorious veil, on the sides of the Tabernacle, on the table and the altar and the lampstand? Everything is marked with blood. Why do you not remove these stains that spoil their beauty? And the priest could reply, That blood gives true beauty to it all. It is a pledge that we, a sinful people, have a right to enjoy the privileges these precious things bring us. Without the blood, a holy God could not live among us or serve us, and we could not offer Him our worship.
The Old Testament account has a second element alongside the blood. The pair carries meaning for Christians:
In this chapter of Leviticus we also learn that Moses applied both blood and oil to the tabernacle, the altar and the other vessels of the sanctuary. Hebrews 9:21 refers to this, as far as the blood is concerned. It shows that the whole of this earthly system stood before God on that basis. For us it pictured that the cross of Christ, together with the gift of the Spirit, forms the foundation of all our blessing.
The whole arrangement — furniture, priests, even their clothing — was a picture. The reality is one blood doing many things at once:
Under the Old Testament order, blood purged and sanctified everything in the tabernacle, the priests and their clothing. Everything was sprinkled with blood, including the book of the law and the people (Heb. 9:18, 21). This was a picture of the blood of the Lord Jesus, which has done everything for the Christian. With His blood He "purchased" us (Acts 20:28), "justified" us (Rom. 5:9), "redeemed" us (Eph. 1:7) and "sanctified" us (Heb. 13:12), and it "cleanses us from all sin" (1 John 1:7).
The blood reached every part of that system, right up to the throne of God. What it points to is bigger still:
On the day of atonement the blood had to be sprinkled on the mercy seat to meet the holy claims of God's throne. It was also sprinkled seven times in front of the mercy seat, so that Aaron the priest could stand in God's presence. The whole tabernacle system was sprinkled with blood. It pointed forward to the time when God would secure the whole universe, and all the redeemed in it, by the precious blood of His own Son, shed while He hung on the cross.
- Cause — holiness. God is holy; the people were sinful. Blood kept the meeting place and its vessels from defilement.
- Provision — sprinkling. Blood on the tent and every tool of service was the safeguard that let a holy God stay in the middle of a failing people.
- Timing — uncertain. Commentators differ over when Moses did this. The tent did not exist at Sinai, and the Old Testament never records the act.
- Meaning — beauty, not blemish. The blood marks did not spoil the sanctuary. They were the pledge that a sinful people had a right to worship there.
- Reach — from tent to universe. The blood of Christ purchases, justifies, redeems, sanctifies and cleanses. With the gift of the Spirit, it is the foundation of all our blessing. It will secure the whole universe for God.
and almost all things are purified with blood according to the law, and without blood-shedding there is no remission.
Hebrews 9 has been describing the old covenant, its tabernacle, and the death that opened them. This verse gives the rule behind the whole arrangement. It raises two questions: why "almost" everything, and why the verse speaks of blood shed rather than blood applied.
The verse does not say that everything was purified with blood. The law itself made a few exceptions.
This was so true that the text adds a further fact: with blood almost all things are purified under the law. Yet it is not said of everything, for water was used in some cases and fire in others. Both picture death, and fire pictures death in its most extreme form, as divine judgment. How blessed for us is the gift of grace, where the judgment was felt in a perfection known and possible nowhere else! He expiates as well as purifies, and He does both by His death.
The second half of the verse changes the word. Up to here the chapter has spoken of blood sprinkled, that is, blood applied. Now it speaks of blood shed.
As regards forgiveness: it can never be obtained without the shedding of blood. Notice that the verse does not say "application" here. It speaks of the accomplishment of the work of true propitiation.
Blood shed once and presented to God is the ground on which God can be righteous and still bless anyone.
The point here is not sprinkling with blood, but shedding of blood, and without it there can be no forgiveness. The power of that blood, shed once for all, is presented to God and brings forgiveness to man. It is the ground of divine righteousness, at a time when human righteousness had proved wholly at fault. It is the righteousness of God to all, and on all who believe. It sweeps away every distinction, so that God may bless anyone — and He does bless all who believe.
God does not simply overlook sin. Something must answer for it before He can pardon.
Sin is an offence against God. It is an insult to His supreme power and authority. That is why we need forgiveness. And when we have offended the Creator of heaven and earth, forgiveness is impossible without a true basis for it. That fully satisfactory basis is "the precious blood of Christ." In Him "we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace" (Eph. 1:7). But "without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins" (Heb. 9:22). God forgives because He sees perfect virtue in the blood of Christ.
If blood is the only ground, every other ground fails. Even the deepest sorrow over sin is not enough.
Think of all the tears of sorrow that ever poured out of broken hearts, from the days of Joseph's brothers to the day of Acts 3 and to this present moment. Not one of them could form the just foundation of a sinner's acceptance and peace with God. Not one could wash away a single stain from the human conscience. The blood of the divine Victim, and that alone — nothing except that precious blood, that atoning death, that matchless sacrifice — could justify a holy God in forgiving one sin.
The same test rules out a more religious substitute: the idea that Christ's law-keeping is what counts for the believer.
Many people think that Christ's keeping of the law is put to the believer's account, so that God counts him righteous. But it was the blood sprinkled on the mercy seat that spoke of righteousness being met. True, if the Lord had not kept the law perfectly He could never have been the Saviour. But we must always insist on this: His death alone secured righteousness for the believing sinner.
Forgiveness rests on blood already shed. That is why the believer's standing can never be reopened.
Come testing, come trial, come what may, the ground of my peace is never touched. If it were not already settled and done, it never could be. Why? Because God says that "without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins." So if the work were not fully done, Christ would have to die again and shed His blood again. But it is finished.
- Almost — the word is exact, not vague. Water and fire cleansed in some cases, and both pictured death.
- Shed — the verse points to the sacrifice itself, not to blood applied. The work comes first.
- Basis — God does not overlook offence; He forgives because He sees perfect worth in the blood of Christ.
- Alone — neither tears nor repentance nor even Christ's law-keeping wins acceptance. His death alone met righteousness.
- Finished — since blood cannot be shed a second time, forgiveness resting on it can never be undone.
[It was] necessary then that the figurative representations of the things in the heavens should be purified with these; but the heavenly things themselves with sacrifices better than these.
Hebrews has just said that under the law blood cleanses almost everything. This verse draws the conclusion. If the copies needed cleansing, so did the realities they copied. That raises a startling question: how could anything in heaven need purifying at all?
The tabernacle Moses built was never the true sanctuary. It was a drawing of one, and a drawing cannot do the work of the thing itself.
That purification was only formal: it cleansed the patterns, and everything about it was outward. The pattern by itself did nothing real, no more than a dress pattern could take the place of the dress. But the pattern must still show, in its measure, the shape the dress is to take. So the heavenly things need a sacrifice of real, living value, not a merely formal one.
God's tent stood in the middle of a sinful camp. Their guilt made cleansing necessary. Sin never stops with the sinner.
The tabernacle itself would have been a defiled place, because it stood among a guilty and defiled people. God plainly declares that blood was the only ground on which He could dwell among them. If God is to dwell with a people who are guilty and defiled, His house must be purged from the sin that has reached into it.
The surprise of the verse is that "the heavenly things themselves" are on the list. Writers point to two facts: who has been up there, and who is going up there.
The blood of goats and calves was enough to purify the tabernacle and its furniture, which were only patterns. The heavenly things themselves needed a better sacrifice. We might be surprised that heavenly things should need a sacrifice at all. But remember two things. Satan and the fallen angels have had their seat in the heavens, and they have brought the taint of sin there. And we, who are sinners and had our place here, are destined, as the fruit of redemption, to take our seat in the heavens. So the work of Christ will bring purification not only on earth but in the heavens too.
Notice what this verse cleanses: a place, not a person.
"The heavenly things themselves with better sacrifices." Satan and his angels are there and cleansing is needed. This purging is not remission. God must have His house cleansed as well as His people made righteous.
Christ died once. So why does the verse say "sacrifices"?
This is the only place that uses the plural word sacrifices when speaking of the death of the Lord Jesus. It is most likely plural to express that His one sacrifice takes in every different aspect of the many sacrifices offered under the law.
Christ has gone into heaven itself for us. So a fear rises: when sinners enter, will they spoil it?
It is His going there to appear for us that has made this purification of the heavenly places necessary. God is jealous of His own holiness, so He provides for the cleanness of everyone He brings into His presence. He is also jealous of the purity of heaven, His dwelling-place. So blood purifies heaven as well, and the entrance of sinners can in no way defile it. It is a great reassurance to worshipping priests to find that the same blood has purified them — the blood that keeps God's own dwelling-place and throne pure. One purification is enough for all — God's throne, God's temple, God's High Priest, and God's priests!
One writer follows this cleansing all the way to its final scene.
So, in Hebrews 9:23, "the things in the heavens must be purified." The work needed for this is done. We are only waiting for the power that will make it good. In the millennium, righteousness will reign; but in the new heaven and the new earth it will dwell. In them we will see the full results of the cross: all things reconciled, and sin driven out for ever from those new scenes and that new creation where "all things are of God."
- Pattern. The tabernacle was a copy, and its blood was external and formal — a dress pattern can never replace the dress.
- Reach. Sin's stain went further than the sinner. It reached the tent God pitched among a guilty people, and the heavens where Satan and his angels had their place.
- Better. One death answers every offering the law commanded. The plural word "sacrifices" gathers them all into Christ's one sacrifice.
- House. Forgiveness clears the people; this purging clears the place. God will have His house cleansed as well as His people made righteous.
- Welcome. The same blood that fits heaven for us fits us for heaven. No worshipper who enters can defile it. One purification covers throne, temple, Priest and priests alike.
For the Christ is not entered into holy places made with hand, figures of the true, but into heaven itself, now to appear before the face of God for us
Hebrews 9:24 puts the tent Moses built beside the place where Christ now is. The first was only a copy of the second. The verse turns on three things: where He went, what He does there, and the words "on our behalf."
The earthly sanctuary was never the original.
Remember that the tabernacle in the wilderness was a revelation of heavenly things. It was made after the pattern shown to Moses on the mountain. Then we grasp at once that the "true tabernacle" means the place and scene where the Lord exercises His heavenly priesthood. So everywhere in this letter the earthly tabernacle stands as the antitype of the heavenly: the copy that matches the real thing.
Two systems stand here. Each one carried its own message about the way to God.
Christ comes, accomplishes the sacrifice, makes the conscience perfect, goes into heaven itself; and we draw near to God in the light. To mix the service of the first tabernacle, or holy place, with Christian service is to deny it. The reason is this: the meaning of the first was that the way to God was not yet open; the meaning of the second is that it is open.
The words "in the presence of God" are literally "before the face of God." The last words of the verse say who He is there for.
"Heaven itself" is the place Christ has entered. The presence — literally the "face" — of God teaches us that in that place He appears before God as the great High Priest, the representative of His people. This is clear from the words "for us," or "on our behalf," at the end of the verse. Aaron was to bear the names of the twelve tribes on his shoulders and on his heart before the Lord. In a more excellent way, Christ presents and represents all His people before God as He exercises His priesthood. He does this in all the acceptance of His own person, and in the perfect efficacy of His work.
Israel's high priest had a strict limit on his visit to God's presence. The difference is not only where He is, but how long He stays.
For the cleansing of the heavenly things, Christ has entered heaven itself, not the holy places made with hands. He entered to appear in the presence of God for us, and He is there still. Aaron entered the Holiest on earth for a brief moment year by year. He could not remain there. Our High Priest remains in the presence of God. Israel could boast to other nations of a high priest who entered behind the veil, though he could not stay there. Christians can say that their High Priest remains inside for them. Again it was plain how different the substance is from the shadow.
The picture behind this comes from what Aaron wore.
When Aaron appeared before the Lord in his garments of glory and beauty, he represented the children of Israel. Their names were engraved in precious stones in the beautiful breastplate. What a picture of our real and everlasting place in the heart of Christ! He appears in the presence of God for us, not once a year like Aaron of old, but continually. The name of each believer is kept continually before the eye of God, in all the glory and beauty of Christ, His beloved Son.
His presence there tells the believer something about heaven.
Christ appearing in heaven before the face of God "for us" is the everlasting witness that heaven is secured and thrown open to the believer.
This verse is one of three appearings in the passage.
The passage sets before us three great facts in the life of our Lord Jesus Christ. It speaks of what we may venture to call three distinct appearings: an appearing in the past, an appearing in the present, and an appearing in the future. He has appeared in this world to do a certain work; He does appear in heaven to carry on a certain ministry; and He shall appear in glory. The first is Atonement; the second is Advocacy; the third is the Advent.
- Copy — Moses built the wilderness tabernacle to a pattern shown on the mountain. It was the figure; heaven is the true.
- Entry — Christ went into heaven itself. The old service said the way to God was closed. His entry says it is open.
- Face — "presence" is literally the face of God. There He appears as High Priest, representing His people in all the acceptance of His person and work.
- Continually — Aaron entered once a year and had to leave. Christ remains, and every believer's name stays before God's eye.
- Appearings — past for atonement, present in heaven for us, future in glory. We live in the middle one.
nor in order that he should offer himself often, as the high priest enters into the holy places every year with blood not his own;
The verse holds up Israel's high priest as a contrast. He went into the holy place year after year, and the blood he carried was never his own. Those two details — the repeating, and the borrowed blood — show why Christ's entry into heaven could not work that way.
The wording turns on the blood itself. One commentator sets the Greek word used of Aaron beside the word used of Christ:
It was said of the high priest in Aaron's line that he "enters the holy places every year with blood not his own" (Heb. 9:25). The word could also be rendered strange or foreign blood (allotrios), since there was no connection between the blood of a bull, or a goat, and himself, a human being. Scripture says of Christ that "by His own (idiou) blood He entered in once into the holy places" (Heb. 9:12), and the word "His own" is repeated again (Heb. 13:12).
Yet His own blood was not what gave Christ the right to enter. It was what set His entrance apart from Aaron's.
He did not enter because of His blood, as if He had no right to enter otherwise. What marked Him out was that He entered by His own blood, just as what marked Aaron out was that he entered by the blood of others. (Heb. 9:25.)
The verse does not just say that Christ chose not to repeat His offering. It says a repeated offering is impossible, and the reason lies in what the offering cost Him.
Notice also the pointed contrast with Jewish sacrifice in verses 25, 26. Repetition could not be avoided even in Israel's most solemn rites, such as the great day of atonement. It is the blessed truth of the gospel that Christ's one offering is complete and everlasting in its effect for everyone who believes. The Holy Spirit even goes so far as to show that a repeated offering on His part is impossible, because it would also mean His suffering often. Any thought of His suffering again must be intolerable even to weak believers, who long for a fresh work for each fresh failure.
Follow the logic back through the centuries, and the picture becomes unbearable.
If that were the case, think of the centuries of suffering for the blessed Lord Jesus! "Then He would have had to suffer repeatedly since the foundation of the world." The old sacrifices came over and over again, naming the same sins every year, and they could not really take away sin. What do we have instead? That blessed word: "once for all at the end of the ages."
The yearly return of the day of atonement was not a strength of the old system. It was an admission.
What is more, one sacrifice, effective for ever, has righteously met and removed every barrier that kept the believer out of heaven. The yearly repetition of the sacrifices under the law proved that they could not put away sin.
Because the verse rules out a repeated offering, any claim to offer Christ again runs straight against it.
God has said that Christ's offering of Himself was a work so perfect and so effective that it never needed repeating. Indeed it could not be repeated, because such an effect required Christ to suffer. He has declared that without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins. So if the offering of Christ had to be repeated, Christ would have had to suffer often. Now if I claim to offer this sacrifice again, and say that such an offering is necessary and right, I deny the effectiveness of Christ's one offering of Himself on the cross.
The same reasoning reaches the believer who keeps going back to the blood as if it had to be applied again each time he fails.
To think of the blood of Christ as needing to be applied again and again dishonours His work. It lowers His work to the level of what was only its shadow... It also separates the offering from the infinite suffering that gave it all its value. (Heb. 9:25-26) If He had to keep presenting His blood for us, as the high priest did for Israel, then He would have to suffer often. See also verse 22. It does not say "without the application of blood", but "without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins".
- Borrowed blood. Aaron carried blood that had nothing to do with him. Christ entered by His own.
- Repeated blood. The yearly return of the day of atonement was the old system admitting it could not put away sin.
- Costly blood. A second offering would demand a second suffering. That is why repetition is impossible, not just unnecessary.
- Re-offered blood. Any claim to offer Christ again denies that His one offering was effective enough to stand.
- Shed blood. Forgiveness rests on blood shed once, not on blood applied again and again. The failing believer looks back to a finished work.
since he had [then] been obliged often to suffer from the foundation of the world. But now once in the consummation of the ages he has been manifested for [the] putting away of sin by his sacrifice.
Hebrews has just said the earthly sanctuary was only a copy; Christ has entered heaven itself. Verse 26 answers the two questions that follow: why did He not repeat His offering, and why did He come when He did?
The phrase older translations render "the end of the world" is not about the planet burning up. It marks the close of a long stretch of time in which God tested man.
This closes the first Adam's history — the history of man responsible in the flesh. It was the end of the world; that is, in moral terms the world had ended and stood judged. So the apostle speaks in Hebrews 9:26: "Now once in the end of the world." Literally that is "in the end, or consummation, of the ages" — the ages in which God was testing man in responsibility, as a sinner who might still be won back. "He has appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself."
That timing is not only an ending. The same act that shut one period opened another.
Until Christ, the question of sin was not settled. God was still making every trial of man under responsibility. Whether man had no law or lived under law, sin had come to full growth. Besides, there was no more reason for an age to run on with man under the same responsibility as before. The ages were complete. Christ appears. He closes the earlier period by abolishing sin, and opens new ages for the glory... He appeared (the verb here is in the perfect tense); the fact is past and still stands.
The verse opens with an impossible picture. If Christ's sacrifice had to be repeated, so would His suffering.
Continual repetition was part of the ritual system. Christianity stands in contrast with it. He has offered Himself once and for ever. If He had to offer Himself repeatedly, He must also suffer often. The two things cannot be separated. For then, we read, "he would have had to suffer repeatedly since the foundation of the world." A fresh offering of Christ to God without fresh suffering is not merely a mistake. It is in direct opposition to His word and to the foundation of Christianity.
The word "once" runs through these chapters.
The word which characterises these chapters is "one," "once" (see Heb. 9:12, 26, 28; Heb. 10:2, 10, 12, 14). It comes seven times over, so that we do not miss how sufficient the precious blood of Christ is, and how unique its glory.
Every other sacrifice needed three: the man who brought it, the animal, and the priest. Here all three meet in one person.
The offerer first identified himself with his offering and killed it. Only then did the priest act. So the Lord offered Himself... The offerer, for whom the sacrifice was brought, killed the animal. But the true sacrifice offered up Himself (Heb. 7:27). In reality the offerer, the offering, and the priest are one and the same person. We see Him in three different characters.
Notice the wording: sin, singular. The reach of that is wider than it looks.
Let us mark that phrase, "to put away sin." How comprehensive it is! The payment for our sins is of course included, but it is not limited to that. The judgment of sin is included, but it is not limited to that. It takes in sin in all its branches and bearings. Sin the root, and all the sins that are its fruit. Sin as it has affected man and the earth. Sin as it has affected the heavens. Sin in its totality — all put away by His sacrifice. And His sacrifice was the sacrifice of Himself!
If sin was put away, why is the world still full of it?
What is the meaning of Hebrews 9:26, "Christ put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself"? I believe it extends to the new heavens and new earth, where righteousness dwells... The work that accomplishes it is done, but the power is not yet put forth. In Hebrews 9:26, 28 we get two things: "to put away sin" and "sins borne." We get the same two on the Day of Atonement — the sin offering and the scapegoat.
Because the sacrifice cannot be repeated, the standing it gives cannot be revised.
If all our sins had not been cancelled by this one offering, they could never be, for Christ cannot die again... When a person believes, he comes into this blessing. He is for ever perfected in Christ before God. Sin cannot be charged to him, because Christ, who has borne and paid for it, is always in God's presence for him — a witness that his sins are already put away.
- Once — in time. He appeared at the close of the ages in which God tested man. That testing ended in judgment. His appearing opens new ages for glory.
- Once — not often. Repeating the offering would mean repeating the suffering. He has offered Himself once and for ever. "Once" is stamped seven times over these chapters.
- Once — by Himself. Offerer, offering and priest are one Person; He had no victim to bring but Himself.
- Once — for sin itself. Not our sins only, but sin at the root, on earth and in the heavens, in its totality.
- Once — therefore final. The full clearing waits for the new heavens and new earth. For the believer the account is already closed, since Christ cannot die again.
And forasmuch as it is the portion of men once to die, and after this judgment;
Hebrews 9 closes with two fixed appointments side by side: one for man, one for Christ. One line gives the lot of every human being — death once, then judgment — and the next verse answers it with a sacrifice offered once.
The word "appointed" points behind the fact of dying to the One who set it. One writer traces dying back to God's own decree. He also notes that death is not God's verdict on how a person lived:
Death is a judicial ordinance of God. It entered at His bidding as the unwelcome consequence of sin. Yet it is not in this natural end of life that God declares His judgment on the ways of men. For death is the end and limit of corrupted human life, and it has no reference to a person's own sins. People are born to die because of sinful origin and birth. By a general appointment men die once.
Everyone admits that death is certain. Not everyone admits what comes after it. Both rest on the same testimony:
"It is appointed for man to die once" — that is only half the solemn truth. Equally appointed, equally certain: "after that comes judgment." Death, instead of being the end of all, is rather the beginning. This present time is only the waiting-room of eternity. The same God declares death and witnesses to it in countless deaths. He declares just as surely that the judgment is coming.
Because judgment comes after death, death cannot be the extinction of the person:
If there is judgment after death, then men do live after death. Death does not mean ceasing to exist. It means ceasing to exist soul and body together in this world. … The judgment brings on men the whole extent of the consequences of sin from the wrath of God, and it comes after death. … Note, this is not something peculiar to those who have heard of Christ, though they are doubtless far more guilty and will be beaten with many stripes. It is appointed for man. Death and judgment are the common natural portion of all as sinners.
If judgment follows dying, the time to be saved is now. One writer puts it bluntly:
"After that comes judgment," Scripture says. The Bible knows no such thing as a further time of testing after death. That idea is a falsehood — twin to the lie that those who reject Christ get another chance after Jesus comes. … The Scriptures testify that you must be saved before you die, if you are saved at all.
Christ faced the same two things as man, but in the opposite order:
Man gets death first, and after death the judgment. Christ, our blessed Lord, bore the judgment first, going to the cross, bearing wrath. Look at that scene on Calvary. Think about the cries that came from the cross. You will never fully understand the reality of the cross until you have entered into the meaning of those words: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" That is the very thing the ungodly will realise in the judgment.
Since Christ absorbed both, the one who trusts Him no longer stands where verse 27 leaves the race:
"As" what? "Just as it is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment" — that is, to die and bear God's judgment of sin is the lot of man by nature. "So" what? "So Christ, having been offered once to bear the sins of many" — that is, Christ has taken on the cross these two consequences of sin, death and judgment. … The believer knows now that he has death and judgment behind him at the cross, instead of before him.
These two verses name two different groups, and the contrast is the point:
There is a striking contrast between "men" as such and believers. … If you miss the opposition between "men" as they are now by nature and "those who await Him," you have missed the context completely. For it puts the portion of "men," who have death and judgment before them, in the strongest possible comparison with those who have Christ once for all offered to bear the sins of many.
That contrast even touches dying itself. Death is not what the Christian waits for:
1 Corinthians 15:51 clearly reveals that "we shall not all sleep," or die. Death and the Lord's coming are in no sense the same thing… No! I look not for death, but for Christ, and Christ is not death, but life — our life. Can a contrast be more definite?
- Appointed. Dying is not an accident of nature. God appointed it for the whole race "once" because of sin, not as His verdict on any one life.
- After. Judgment stands on the far side of death. So death is not the end of the person; he still must face God.
- Before. Judgment follows death, so you must decide in this life. Scripture offers no second chance afterwards.
- Reversed. Christ met the same two things in the opposite order. He bore judgment on the cross first, then death — taking what sinners deserved.
- Waiting. The verse describes "men" as they are. Those who wait for Christ have death and judgment behind them. They look for Him, not for death.
thus the Christ also, having been once offered to bear the sins of many, shall appear to those that look for him the second time without sin for salvation.
Hebrews 9 ends by placing two appointments side by side: one fixed for every person, and one Christ has already kept for His people. The verse then looks ahead to a second appearing where the question of sin never comes up.
The verse hangs on one small word: "so." It answers the "as" in the sentence before it. The two halves set out two very different futures.
Here you have the two portions. Man's portion is death and judgment. The Christian's portion is Christ, the one offering for sins, who is about to return in glory for their full salvation, not judgment. Christ settled the question of sin so completely at His first coming that no one will ever raise it again.
Christ has already paid what man owes.
Christ has taken on the cross these two consequences of sin, death and judgment. What is the result? The believer is delivered from the common lot of man… the believer knows now that he has death and judgment behind him at the cross, instead of before him.
The verse says Christ bore the sins of many, not of all. Writers treat that wording as deliberate. It marks the difference between what can be preached to everyone and what belongs to those who believe.
The evangelist cannot go and tell every person that Christ died as his substitute. But he can tell him that He died as a propitiation. And when, through grace, the soul believes on the Lord Jesus Christ, he can learn the further calming truth: He died as a substitute and bore all his sins in His own body on the tree.
Propitiation is a sacrifice the evangelist can preach to everyone. Substitution is one Person taking the place of another and carrying his sins.
Older translations read "without sin" and "look for Him" where the ESV has "not to deal with sin" and "eagerly waiting for him." The phrase does not describe Christ's sinless character. It describes what His return is about.
He appears apart from sin. He is not only without sin in His blessed Person — that was true at His first coming as well — but, for those who look for Him, He appears outside all question of sin, for their final deliverance.
Why can He never reopen the subject? Because reopening it would have only one outcome.
Why does He not raise the question of sin at His second coming? Because He settled it at His first. To raise this question again would mean certain doom for us, for Christ will suffer and die no more.
Some read the phrase as a filter, as though only watchful Christians qualify. Commentators reject that reading.
The words "look for Him" do not carry the meaning so often read into them — the idea that only watchful believers will find salvation when the Lord comes again. The force of the whole passage is this: sin has been so perfectly put away, and believers so perfectly cleared in conscience and from all liability to judgment, that they are left waiting for their High Priest to come out of the heavenly sanctuary.
Looking is not the entrance fee. It is what a cleared conscience does.
Salvation here is not forgiveness — that is already settled. It is the final step.
Judgment is past. So His coming will be "unto salvation" — full salvation for the body as well, the believer delivered entirely from the very presence of sin… This is the first part of the second coming. Here He appears only to believers. Later "every eye will see him," when He must deal out judgment to those who have refused His mercy.
Israel's worship gives the picture behind this waiting.
Until the high priest came out, Israel could not know that God had accepted the sacrifice. They waited as a people who could not draw near to God in any way until the sacrifice was accepted. But for us who believe, the Holy Spirit has come out while He is still hidden within. So we know His work is accepted, and that He sits at the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens.
For the Jewish readers of this letter, the idea itself was new.
A second appearing of the Messiah was a thought foreign to Judaism. Christians look for that second appearing — an important and comforting part of their faith… and the Christian can look with hope for that return, since he knows that atonement settled the question of his guilt.
- Once — one offering covered both things appointed to man: death and judgment.
- Many — the wording is exact. The evangelist can preach propitiation to everyone, but Christ bore the sins of those who believe.
- Apart from sin — the second appearing does not reopen the sin question. Christ closed it at the first, and reopening it would mean ruin.
- Looking — every believer waits for Him; it is not a badge earned by a watchful few.
- Salvation — the High Priest steps out of the sanctuary at last, and what remains is not pardon but full deliverance, body and all.