Oak Chapel United Methodist Church

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We need to know a little before we can understand the Letter to the Hebrews. For example, we need to know that Hebrews is one of the later New Testament writings, and that it was addressed mainly to Jewish Christians. Hence its name. (The earliest Christians were Jews -- like Jesus and the disciples -- they were Jews who believed the Messiah had come.) But this letter was written later, at a time when thousands of Gentiles (non Jews) had joined the new religion of Jesus, when synagogue and church were coming unglued, and (most important) when Christians were experiencing persecution for the first time. So this letter (Hebrews) was written to Jewish Christians, no longer a majority in the church, no longer able to straddle the fence between Judaism and Christianity, no longer able to follow Christ and avoid trouble. The cost of discipleship, for these people, had gone up.

Whoever wrote this letter was Jewish himself. He was a brilliant theologian, and he knew his audience. He makes his case for Jesus with arguments and images immediately recognizable to Jews. And he tells them, as Margaret Thatcher told Ronald Reagan during the Falklands war, "Now is not a time to get wobbly." Keep the faith, he says. Before you throw in the towel on Christianity and return to Judaism (which, I know would eliminate a lot of stress for you, keep you safe from danger, and make your moms and dads happy), let me remind you why Christianity is superior to Judaism and why you became a follower of the Way in the first place. And then he begins an elaborate, closely knit argument (one of the best ever made) for Christ as the new High Priest of Israel.

The Law, Given by God Through Moses, Has Seemed a Burden

Moses gave our people the Law (the Ten Commandments) on Mt. Sinai, he says, and along with the law he gave endless statutes and ordinances, "sub-laws" so to speak (ostensibly interpretations of the original Ten) -- detailed laws about what we should eat, and how we should keep Sabbath, and who we should marry, and how we should organize ourselves. Moses also told us how we should worship God -- in an orgy of blood, if the truth be known -- one animal sacrifice after another (a lamb, a goat, a fat offering, a guilt offering), to curry favor with God and to atone for our sins. Moses even gave us a tabernacle in which to do all this and an order of priests who would lead us through it. (The first High Priest was Aaron, Moses' brother.)

And for the last 1200 years we Jews have been running back and forth to the altar, carrying sacrifices (animals without blemish, and the first ripe grain of our harvests) -- carrying them to ordained priests who offered them up to God on our behalf. That has been the center of our worship and our life as a people. That is Judaism. You can go back to it if you want.

Christ Has Replaced Both the Sacrifice and the Priest

But Christ put an end to all that, because (and listen up, for this the whole argument of the Letter to the Hebrews) -- because, in his life and in his death, Christ replaced both the sacrifice and the priest. He is our paschal lamb, pure and spotless. He is our great High Priest, who, for the sins of his people, offers himself to God. And because he is perfect and without blemish, his sacrifice is eternally sufficient. No more blood needs to be spilled. We can let the fires die on God's altars, we can strike the tent of meeting. "He made there, by the one offering of himself, a full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice for the sins of the whole world." Praise God.

That Christ becomes our sacrifice, we must talk about another time. Maybe Good Friday. That Christ becomes our High Priest is a thought quite puzzling. We gave up old style priests about the same time we gave up kings and queens. (Clergy and royalty, in fact, were similar: both claimed power by divine right -- so who could argue?) But the role of a priest, if we understand it rightly, is a good role. A priest intercedes for us. A priest teaches people about God and helps them to be saved. A priest (at least a priest like Jesus) brings people into the very presence of God and reminds them that they are all priests. He saves his people.

We are Saved from Separation from God, Including Meaninglessness and Loneliness

Harry Cotton, in his commentary on Hebrews, remarks that the word "saved" needs to be saved. It is a word much abused. It conjures up unpleasant memories of starchy old fire-and-brimstone preachers who, never questioning if they themselves were saved, endlessly exhorted their congregations to be. Being saved, with them, looks like a magical event. Like falling in love -- something mysterious that happens to people, but we shouldn't ask too many questions. Come on! Saved from what? To speak of "safety" implies danger. If there is a High Priest who will save us, from what will we be saved by Him, and for what purpose? Traditionally the church has summed up what Christ saves us from with the word, "sin" -- another word that needs reclaiming. Let me see if I can define it for today. Sin is everything short of the Garden of Eden. Christ (as our great High Priest) saves us from separation from God, from meaninglessness, from loneliness, from a world without moral stars, from hopelessness (or "depression", as we call it today), from the triumph of evil and the futility of death. In his priestly power, he saves us from ourselves, from our cruelties, our nasty habits our fears and our addictions. He saves us from a loveless world. That is what this wonderful High Priest, with his self-sacrifice, and his faithful intercession before God on our behalf, does for us. We have an advocate with the Father. Ours is a world utterly lost. We talk about a spiritual revival taking place today, and I pray it is true. But a revival to what and by what power? We cannot worship at the altar of an empty spirituality, nor can we lift ourselves by our own bootstraps -- faith needs content and power, and we have both. We have a friend in high places, an advocate, a great High Priest. And he is the same yesterday, today and forever.

And there is another thing. The Bible says that, in the very hour when Jesus was crucified, the veil in the Temple was rent, torn in half, from top to bottom. That veil hung between the part of the temple where human beings were allowed and the Holy of Holies, where only God could be. Jesus, by his death, removed the barrier between man and God. So, as our High Priest, he does more than teach us about God, more than point the way to God, more than intercede. He takes our hands and walks us directly into the presence of God. Gives us direct access. That is some priest. And in that grace he makes us all priests.

We are All Called On to be Preachers

You remember the out-of-work preacher who took a job at the local zoo. When he applied for the job he was told, in a whisper, that last night the zoo's beloved guerilla had died, and the zoo keepers didn't have the heart to tell all the children who came to see the guerilla and who loved him. So the preacher's job would be to dress up in a guerilla suit and sit in the cage all day and wave to the children, so they wouldn't have their hearts broken. Well, he did this for a few days, and then decided he could embellish the job. He couldn't say anything, naturally, but he started jumping around the cage and pounding his chest, and the children loved it. Soon he began doing somersaults, and swinging from a rope that was hanging there. The children were thrilled, but one day he went too far. At the height of his swing, he accidentally let go of the rope, flew across into the next cage, where the lion lived. When he looked up he saw the lion coming toward him, and (although he was never supposed to say a word) he started shouting, "Help!" "Help!" Until he heard the lion whisper, "Shut up you fool, I'm a preacher, too."

This world is a Temple, and we are all preachers, all priests, working under a great High Priest, Jesus. He walks us right into the presence of God, right through where that veil used to hang. Ordains us every one. And that is a great privilege. But, like all privileges in the Bible, there are a heavy responsibilities that go along. Now, like good priests, we are responsible for leading others to God and for helping them find salvation. How easy it is to pass by on the other side of the road. How difficult it is to sort out those who really need our help from those who would merely play on our sympathies. How hard to know when we should lend a helping hand and when we should stand back and allow a struggling person to accomplish something on his own -- for his own good. The answers are never easy. Still, as priests we take responsibility for each other. We are our brother's keeper, or at least our brother's brother. That doesn't provide all the answers, I know, but it sure would be a good start.