Homilies on Hebrews 13.1–13.4

“If, then, perfection were through the Levitical priesthood (for on it the people received the law), what further need would there be for another priest to arise according to the order of Melchizedek, and not be called according to the order of Aaron? … For he of whom these things are said belonged to another tribe, from which no one has served at the altar. For it is evident that our Lord has arisen from Judah, a tribe about which Moses said nothing concerning priesthood.” “If, then, perfection were through the Levitical priesthood,” he says. Having spoken of Melchizedek, and shown how much better he was than Abraham, and declared the difference great, he now begins from here to show the distance of the covenant itself, and how the one is imperfect and the other perfect. And he does not yet enter on the realities themselves, but for the present fights from the priesthood and the covenant. For these things were more credible to unbelievers when the proof came from what had already been accepted and believed. He showed that Melchizedek was much better than both Levi and Abraham, having been in the rank of priest toward them. And he attempts it again from another thing. What is that? The present priesthood and the Jewish one. And see the excess of his wisdom: from the very thing by which it was likely that he [Christ] would be cast out of the priesthood, since he was not according to the order of Aaron, from this he establishes him and casts those out. And he does this by bringing himself in as though perplexed at something, why he is not said to be according to the order of Aaron, and so resolving the perplexity. I too, he says, am perplexed at this very thing, why he did not come according to the order of Aaron. For this he makes plain by saying, “If, then, perfection were through the Levitical priesthood.” And “what further need” has great emphasis. If, then, Christ according to the flesh had come first according to the order of Melchizedek, and afterwards the law and the things according to Aaron had come, one might reasonably say that these, being more perfect, undid those, as coming in afterwards; but if Christ came later and takes another form of priesthood, it is clear that it was because those things were more imperfect. For let us suppose for argument’s sake, he says, that all had been fulfilled and that there was nothing imperfect in the priesthood; why then was it necessary to say “according to the order of Melchizedek,” and not “according to the order of Aaron”? Why, leaving Aaron, did he bring in another priesthood, that of Melchizedek? “If, then, perfection were through the Levitical priesthood,” he says; that is, the perfection of the realities, of the doctrines, of the life, through the Levitical priesthood. And see how he proceeds step by step. He said, “according to the order of Melchizedek,” showing that the priesthood according to the order of Melchizedek is better; for that man was much better. Now he shows this also from the time, that it came after Aaron, clearly as better. And what does what follows mean? “For on it,” he says, “the people received the law.” What is “on it”? They conform to it, he says, they do everything through it; one cannot say that it was given to others. “The people received the law on it,” that is, they use it and used it; one cannot say that it was perfect but did not preside over the people. “On it they received the law,” that is, they used it. What need was there, then, of another priesthood, if it had the perfect? “For when the priesthood is changed, there is of necessity a change of the law also.” But if there must be another priest, or rather another priesthood, there must also be another law. This against those who say, “What need was there of a new covenant?” For he could also have cited a testimony from prophecy: “Not according to the covenant which I made with your fathers”; but for the present he fights from the priesthood. And see how from above he was in labor to say these things. He said, “according to the …”; for he would not have said, “according to the order of Melchizedek,” unless this one were better. If, then, another priesthood has been brought in, there must be another covenant; for it is not possible to be a priest without a covenant and laws and commands, nor, having received another priesthood, to use that one. Then the objection, how he could be a priest who was not a Levite, which he had laid down beforehand in what went before, he does not even deign to resolve, but brings it in in passing. I said, he says, that the priesthood was changed; therefore the covenant too. And it was changed not in manner only, nor in commands, but also in tribe; for it had to be in tribe too. How? “For when the priesthood is changed,” he says. That is, for this reason it was changed from tribe to tribe, from the priestly to the royal, so that the same might be both royal and priestly. And see the mystery: first it was royal, and now it has become priestly; just as also in Christ’s case: for he was always king, but he became priest when he took the flesh, when he offered the sacrifice. Do you see the change? And what was matter of objection, this he brings in as what the sequence of events required: “For he of whom these things are said,” he says, “belonged to another tribe, from which no one has served at the altar. For it is evident that our Lord has arisen from Judah, a tribe about which Moses said nothing concerning priesthood.” What he says is this: I too say and know that this tribe had nothing of priesthood, nor did anyone from it serve as priest; for this is what “no one has served at the altar” shows; but the whole is a change. So it was necessary that the law and the old covenant be changed, since the tribe itself had been exchanged. Do you see how he shows another difference too from the exchange of the tribe? And not only from this is shown how great the difference is, but now also from the person, and from the covenant, and from the manner, and from the type itself. “Who has become [a priest] not according to the law of a fleshly commandment …”

He has become a priest, he says, but not according to the law of a fleshly commandment; for that law was in many things lawless And he rightly called it a fleshly commandment; for everything that it ordained was fleshly. For to say, … What is “of a fleshly commandment”? Wash the flesh, cleanse the flesh, circumcise the flesh, bind up the flesh, nourish the flesh, let the flesh rest; tell me, are not these things fleshly? And if you wish to learn also what good things it promised, hear: long life, it says, for the flesh; milk and honey for the flesh; peace for the flesh; luxury for the flesh. From this law Aaron received the priesthood; but Melchizedek not so. “And it is yet far more evident, if another priest arises according to the likeness of Melchizedek.” What is evident? The distance between the two priesthoods, the difference, how much better is he who has become [a priest] not according to the law of a fleshly commandment. Who? Melchizedek? No, but Christ. “But according to the power of an indestructible life. For it is testified, You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek.” That is, not temporary, nor having an end, but “according to the power of an indestructible life.” He said this to show that he became priest through his own power and the Father’s, through a life without end. And yet this does not follow from “who has become not according to the law of a fleshly commandment”; for what followed was to say, “but according to a spiritual one.” But by “fleshly” he showed the temporary, as he says elsewhere too, “ordinances of the flesh imposed until a time of reformation.” “According to the power of a life”: this is, that he lives by his own power. He said that a change of the law takes place, and showed how; he now seeks the cause; which above all gives full assurance to men’s souls, to know the cause by all means, and leads to greater faith. For we believe more when we learn the cause too, and the reason by which a thing comes about. “For there is a setting aside,” he says, “of the former commandment because of its weakness and unprofitableness.” Here the heretics fasten on us, saying, “See, even Paul has called the commandment evil.” But attend closely: he did not say, “because of its evil,” nor “because of its wickedness,” but “because of its weakness and unprofitableness.” And elsewhere too he shows the weakness, as when he says, “in that it was weak through the flesh.” So it was not the law that was weak, but we. “For the law made nothing perfect.” What is “made nothing perfect”? It made no one perfect, he says, being disobeyed. And besides, even if it had been well obeyed, it would have made a man perfect and virtuous. But for the present the discourse here does not say this, but that it was able to do nothing; and rightly. For they were letters lying there: “Do this, and do not do that,” only giving direction, but not also putting in power. But hope is not such. What is “setting aside”? Change, casting out. And showing of what, he added, saying, “of the former commandment”; calling the law so because it was cast out because of its weakness; and “former” means what is past and has grown old through weakness. So the setting aside is the setting aside of things that prevailed. And it is plain from this that it prevailed … What then? Did the law profit nothing? It profited, and profited greatly; but for making men perfect it did not profit. In this sense, then, he says, “For the law made nothing perfect,” inasmuch as all were types, all a shadow: circumcision, sacrifice, Sabbath, which could not pass into the soul; for this reason it gives way and withdraws. “But there is the bringing in of a better hope, through which we draw near to God. And inasmuch as it was not without an oath.” Do you see why the matter of the oath was necessary here? For this reason he discoursed much above, that God swore, and swore for greater full assurance. “But the bringing in of a better hope.” What is this? The law too had a hope, he says, but not such; for they hoped, if they pleased God, to have the land and to suffer nothing terrible; but here we hope, if we please him, to possess not the land but heaven; or rather, what is much better than this, we hope to stand near God, to come to the Father’s very throne, to minister to him with angels. And see how he sets them down little by little. There he says, “entering into the inner side of the veil”; but here, “through which we draw near to God. And inasmuch as it was not without an oath.” What is “inasmuch as it was not without an oath”? That is, not without an oath. See another difference too. Nor has this been promised simply, he says. “For those have become priests without an oath, but he with an oath, through the one who said to him, The Lord has sworn and will not change his mind, You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek; by so much has Jesus become the guarantor of a better covenant. And those have become many priests, because they were prevented by death from continuing; but he, because he remains forever, has the priesthood that does not pass away.” He sets down two differences: that it has no end, like that of the law, and that it is with an oath. And he does this from Christ who holds it (“For according to the power,” he says, “of an indestructible life”); and he does it from the oath too, that he swore; and from the matter. For if that, he says, was cast out because it was weak, this, since it is powerful, stands. And he does it from the priest too. How? By showing that he is one; and he would not be one if he were not immortal. For just as the priests are many because they are mortal, so the one is one because he is immortal. “By so much has Jesus become the guarantor of a better covenant,” inasmuch as he swore to him that he would always be priest, he says; he would not have done this unless he were living. “Hence he is able also to save completely those who come to God through him, since he always lives to intercede for them.”

Do you see that he says this with reference to what is according to the flesh? When he has shown him to be priest, then he fitly speaks of interceding. So when Paul says, “who also intercedes for us,” he hints at the same thing, that he intercedes as being high priest. For he who raises the dead as he wills, and gives life just as the Father does, how does he intercede where there is need to save? He who has all judgment, how does he intercede? He who sends the angels, so as to cast some into the furnace and save others, how does he intercede? “Hence,” he says, “he is able also to save.” For this reason, then, he saves, since he does not die. Since he always lives, he has no successor, he says; and if he has no successor, he is able also to protect all. For here the high priest, even if he was admirable, was so up to the time in which he lived, for example Samuel and others like him; but after that, no longer, for they had died; but here it is not so, but he saves completely. What is “completely”? He hints at some great mystery. Not here only, he says, but there too he saves those who come to God through him. How does he save? “Since he always lives,” he says, “to intercede for them.” Do you see how lowly a thing he said because of the humanity? For he does not say that he obtained this by interceding once, but always, and whenever there is need to intercede for them; for “completely” shows this. What is “completely”? Not for the present only, he says, but there too, in the life to come. Does he always need, then, to pray? And how would that be reasonable? Righteous men often achieved everything by a single request, and does he always need it? Why then does he sit together [with the Father]? Do you see that speaking lowly things is condescension? What he says is this: Do not fear, and do not say, “Yes, he loves us, and has boldness with the Father, but he cannot live forever”; for he always lives. “For such a high priest was fitting for us, holy, guileless, undefiled, separated from sinners.” Do you see that all is said of the humanity? And when I say humanity, I mean humanity having Godhead, not dividing them, but leaving you to suppose what is fitting. Have you seen the difference of the high priest? He summed up what was said above, when he said, “one who has been tested in every respect according to likeness, without sin.” “For such a high priest was fitting for us,” he says, “holy, guileless.” What is “guileless”? Not crafty, as the prophet says: “Nor was deceit found in his mouth.” Would anyone say this of God? And would he not be ashamed to say that God is not treacherous nor deceitful? But of what is according to the flesh it would be reasonable: “holy, undefiled”; and this too one would not say of God, for he has a nature that cannot be defiled. “Separated from sinners.” Does this alone show the difference, or the sacrifice itself too? The sacrifice too. How? “He has no need,” he says, “daily, like the high priests, to offer sacrifices first for his own sins, then for those of the people; for this he did once for all, when he offered up himself.” “This”: what? Here he now strikes up beforehand the excellence of the spiritual sacrifice. And he spoke of the difference of the priest, he spoke of that of the covenant, not wholly, but still he spoke of it; here he now strikes up beforehand the sacrifice itself too. Do not, then, when you hear that he is a priest, think that he always performs priestly service; for he served as priest once, and then sat down. For so that you may not think that he stands above and is a minister, he shows that the thing belongs to the dispensation. For just as he became a slave, so too priest and minister; but just as, having become a slave, he did not remain a slave, so too, having become a minister, he did not remain a minister; for sitting does not belong to a minister, but standing. This, then, is what he hints at here, the greatness of the sacrifice, which, being one and offered once, was sufficient for as much as all could not achieve. But not yet about this; for the present he says only so much: “For this he did once for all.” “This”: what? “For it is necessary,” he says, “that this one too have something to offer”; not for himself; for how did he offer for himself, being sinless? But for the people. What do you say? Does he not need to offer for himself, and yet has such power? Yes, he says. For so that you may not think that “he did it once for all” was said of himself too, hear what he adds: “For the law appoints as high priests men who have weakness.” That is why they always offer for themselves; but he who is powerful, who has no sin, why should he offer for himself? So he offered not for himself but for the people, and this once for all. “But the word of the oath, which came after the law, [appoints] a Son, [made perfect forever].” What is this? See: Paul does not set down the contrasts in their proper terms; for having said, “who have weakness,” he did not say “a powerful Son,” but “made perfect,” that is, powerful, as one might say. Do you see that the name “Son” is spoken in contrast to the slave? And by “weakness” he means either sin or death. What is “forever”? Not now only sinless, he says, but always. If, then, he is perfect, if he never sins, if he always lives, why will he offer sacrifices for us many times? But for the present he does not argue about this; but he argues that he does not offer for himself. Since, then, we have such a high priest, let us imitate him, and walk in his steps. There is no other sacrifice; one cleansed us; and after this, fire and gehenna. For this reason he turns it up and down, saying, one priest, one sacrifice, so that no one, thinking there are many …

All of us, then, who have been counted worthy of the seal, who have enjoyed the sacrifice, who have shared in the immortal table, let us remain guarding our nobility and honor; for falling away is not without danger. And let those who have not yet been counted worthy of these things not be confident on that account either; for when someone sins for this reason, so as to receive holy baptism at his last breath, often he will not obtain it. And believe me, I do not say what I am going to say to frighten you: I myself know many who suffered this, who in expectation of illumination sinned much, and on the day of their death departed empty. For God gave baptism to undo sins, not to increase sins; but if someone uses it as license to sin more, it becomes a cause of carelessness. For if there were no washing, they would live more safely, as not having forgiveness. Do you see that it is we who cause the saying, “Let us do evil that good may come”? So I beg you, you too who are uninitiated, be sober. Let no one pursue virtue like a hireling, let no one like an ungrateful man, let no one as something heavy and burdensome. Let us pursue it, then, with eagerness and rejoicing. For if no reward were laid up, ought one not to be good? But nevertheless, let us at least become good with a reward. For how is this not a shame and the greatest condemnation: “If you do not give me a reward,” one says, “I do not become self-controlled”? Then shall I dare to say something? You will never be self-controlled, not even when you are self-controlled, if you do it for a reward; for you count virtue as nothing, if you do not love it. But God, because of our great weakness, has for the present willed it to come about even with a reward; and not even so do we pursue it. Let us suppose, if you will, that some man departs having done countless evils, and having been counted worthy of baptism (which I think does not easily happen); how will he depart there, tell me? Not accused for what he has done, but without boldness, and rightly. For when, having lived a hundred years, he can show no good work, but only that he did not sin, or rather not even this, but that he was saved by grace alone, and sees others crowned, splendid and approved, even if he does not fall into gehenna, will he bear the despondency, tell me? And so that I may make the matter clearer by an example, let there be two soldiers … and let the other do none of these things, but act bravely, achieve great things, set up trophies in wars, bloody his right hand; then, when the time comes, let the one be brought suddenly from that rank in which the thief too was, to the royal throne and the purple; and let that one, the thief, remain there where he was, and only by the king’s loving-kindness not pay the penalty for what he did, but yet be in the last place, and ranked under the king; will he bear the despondency, tell me, when he sees the one who was with him gone up to the very summit of ranks, and so glorious, and ruling the world, while he himself still remains below, and has not even his not being punished with honor, but from the king’s grace and loving-kindness? For even if the king lets him go and frees him from the charges, still he will live ashamed; for surely others will not admire him. For in such pardons we admire not those who receive the gifts but those who give them; and the greater the gifts they give, the more those who receive them are put to shame, when their sins are great. With what eyes, then, will such a man be able to look at those in the palace, when they show countless sweats and wounds, while he has nothing to show, but has even his very salvation from God’s loving-kindness alone? For just as, if someone begged off a murderer, a thief, an adulterer about to be led away, and ordered him to stay at the palace gates, that man would be able to look no one in the face thereafter, even if he has escaped punishment, so too this man. For do not think, because it is called a kingdom, that all obtain the same things. For if here the prefect too, and all those about the king, and those much lower, holding the place of the so-called decani, are in the palace, though the distance between the prefect and the decanus is so great, much more will this be so in the palace above. And I do not say this of myself; for Paul sets down another difference greater than these. “For as many differences,” he says, “as there are from the sun to the moon, and to the stars and to the smallest star, so many are there among those in the kingdom.” And that the difference between the sun and the smallest star is much greater than that between the so-called decanus and the prefect is plain to all. For the sun lights up the whole world at once and makes it bright, and hides the moon and the stars; but the other often does not even appear, and that in darkness; for there are many of the stars which we do not see. When, then, we see others becoming suns, while we have the rank of the smallest stars, those that do not even appear, what consolation will we have? Let us not, I beg you, let us not be so sluggish, not so idle; let us not trade God’s salvation into carelessness, but let us trade with it, and multiply it. For even if someone is a catechumen, yet he knows Christ, yet he has the faith, yet he hears the divine words, yet he is not far from divine knowledge, he knows the will of his Master. Why then does he put it off? Why … delay and defer? Nothing is better than a good life, both here and there, both for the illuminated and for the catechumens. For what burdensome thing, tell me, have we been commanded? “Have a wife,” it says, “and be self-controlled.” Is this burdensome, tell me? And how, when many are self-controlled even without a wife, not Christians only but Greeks too? What the Greek goes beyond for vainglory, will you not even keep for the fear of God? “Give to the poor,” it says, “from what you have.” Is this burdensome? But here too the Greeks accuse us, they who have emptied out whole estates for vainglory alone. “Do not speak obscenely.” Is this hard? For if it had not been commanded, ought we not to achieve it, so as not to appear dishonorable? For that the opposite is hard, I mean speaking obscenely, is plain from the soul’s being ashamed and blushing if it is led on to say anything of the kind, and it will not even say it unless perhaps it is drunk. For why, sitting in the market, even if you do this at home, do you not do it there? Is it not because of those present? Why do you not readily do the same before your wife? Is it not so as not to insult her? So as not to insult your wife, then, you do not do it; and insulting God, do you not blush? For he is present everywhere and hears all things. “Do not be drunk,” it says. Good. For is not this by itself a punishment? It did not say, “Torment the body,” but what? “Do not be drunk,” that is, do not so throw it headlong as to take away the soul’s rule. What then? Must one not provide for the body? God forbid; I do not say this; but do not provide for it to gratify its desires; for so Paul too commanded, saying, “And make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.” “Do not seize,” it says, “what is not yours, do not defraud, do not swear falsely.” What toils do these need? What sweats? “Do not speak evil,” it says, “nor slander.” What toil does this have? On the contrary, that is toil. For when you speak ill, at once you are in danger, in suspicion: “Has he heard what I said?”, whether he is great or small; for if he is great, you will at once be in danger in deeds; and if he is small, he will defend himself with equal things, or rather with much harsher; for he will speak worse of you. We have been commanded nothing difficult, nothing burdensome, if we will; but if we will not, even the easiest things will seem burdensome to us. What is easier than eating? But from great sloth many are vexed even at this; and I hear many saying that even eating is a labor. None of these things has labor, if you will; for in willing everything lies, after the grace from above. Let us will the good things, then, so that we may obtain the eternal good things too, by grace and loving-kindness …