Homilies on Hebrews 17.1–17.5

“For Christ did not enter into holy places made with hands, copies of the true ones, but into heaven itself, now to appear before the face of God for us; nor that he should offer himself often, as the high priest enters the Holy of Holies every year with blood not his own; for then he would have had to suffer often since the foundation of the world; but now once, at the consummation of the ages, he has been manifested for the setting aside of sin through his sacrifice.” The Jews thought highly of the temple and the tabernacle; that is why they said, “The temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord.” For no such temple was built anywhere else on earth, neither for costliness, nor for beauty, nor for anything else. For God, who ordained it, commanded it to be made with great magnificence, since they too … for it had golden … on the walls; and whoever wishes may learn this in the second book of Kingdoms and in Ezekiel, how much gold went into the building, both for beauty and for all the rest. And it was venerable not only for this, but also for being one, and for drawing all by its beauty; for they came there from the ends of the earth, whether from Babylon or from Ethiopia. And Luke, making this plain in the Acts, said, “And there were dwelling there Parthians and Medes and Elamites, … Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya about Cyrene.” Those, then, who were in every part of the world gathered there, and the renown of the temple was great. What then does Paul do? As in the case of the sacrifices, so he does here too; for just as there he set the death of Christ against them, so here he sets the whole of heaven against the temple. And not by this alone did he show the difference, but also by adding that the priest is nearer, [appearing before the face] of God. So he made the thing venerable not by heaven only, but by the entrance too. For it is not simply through symbols, as here, but he sees God himself there. Do you see that for the sake of condescension the lowly things are said everywhere? Why then do you wonder any longer if he intercedes, when he sets him as high priest? “Nor that he should offer himself often,” he says, “as the high priest enters the holy places every year with blood …” “For Christ did not enter,” he says, “into holy places made with hands, copies of the true ones.” So those are true, and these types; for the temple was built so, as heaven is of heaven. What do you say? Unless he enters heaven, does he who is present everywhere and fills all things not appear? Do you see that all these things belong to the flesh? “And to appear,” he says, “before the face of God for us.” What is “for us”? He went up with a sacrifice, he says, able to propitiate the [Father]. Why, tell me? Was he himself the enemy? The angels were enemies, he himself was not an enemy. For that the angels were enemies, hear what he says: “He made peace between the things on earth and the things in heaven.” So he rightly said that he too “entered into [heaven itself, to appear before the face] of God for us.” Now he appears, but for … “as the high priest enters the Holy of Holies every year with blood not his own.” Do you see how many the differences are? Once instead of often, in his own blood instead of in another’s. The distance is great. He himself, then, is both victim and priest. “For then he would have had to suffer often,” he says, “since the foundation of the world.” Here he reveals a doctrine, and says that if he had had to offer sacrifices often, he would have had to be crucified often too. “But now once, at the consummation of the ages.” Why “at the consummation of the ages”? After many sins. If, then, he had come at the beginning, and then no one had believed, the dispensation would have been without profit; for Christ was not to die a second time, so that the object of his zeal might be achieved even so; but since later the sins were many, he rightly appeared then. Which he says elsewhere too: “Where sin abounded, grace superabounded.” “But now,” he says, “once, at the consummation of the ages, he has been manifested for the setting aside of sin through his sacrifice. And just as it is appointed for men to die once, and after this the judgment.”

Having shown that he did not need to die often, he now shows also why he died once: that by one death [he became a ransom; for it is appointed] for men to die once. This, then, “he died once,” for all men. What then? Do we no longer die that death? We die, but we do not remain in it; which is not even to die. For the tyranny of death, and death truly, is this, when the one who has died is no longer allowed to return to life; but when after dying he lives, and a better life, this is not death but sleep. Since, then, death was going to hold all, for this reason he died, so that he might free us. “So also Christ, having been offered once.” Offered by whom? By himself, clearly. Here he shows him not only as priest, but also as victim and offering. Then he adds the cause of “having been offered”: “Having been offered once,” he says, “to bear the sins of many.” Why did he say “of many” and not “of all”? Because not all believed. For he died for all, to save all, as far as in him lay; for that death was equal in weight to the destruction of all; but he did not bear the sins of all, because they did not will it. And what is “to bear sins”? Just as in the offering that we bring up, we bring forward our sins too, saying, “Whether we have sinned willingly or unwillingly, forgive”; that is, we first remember them, and then ask forgiveness; so it happened here too. Where did Christ do this? Hear him saying, “And for them I sanctify myself.” See, he bore up the sins; he took them from men, and bore them up to the Father, not so that he might decree anything against them, but so that he might forgive them. “He will appear a second time, apart from sin, to those who eagerly wait for him, for salvation.” What is “apart from sin”? Not taking away sins; nor will he come a second time because of sin, so as to die again; for not even when he died once did he die as owing death. How will he appear? “As punishing,” one says. But he did not say this, but the bright thing: “He will appear apart from sin to those who eagerly wait for him, for salvation,” so that there would no longer be need of a sacrifice to save them, but this would be done from works. “For the law, having a shadow of the good things to come,” he says, “not the very image of the realities”; that is, not the truth itself. For as long as one only traces the colors as in an outline, it is a sort of shadow; but when one lays on the bloom and fills in the colors, then it becomes an image. Such a thing was the law too. “For the law,” he says, “having a shadow of the good things to come, not the very image of the realities,” that is, of the sacrifice, of the forgiveness, “can never, by the same sacrifices which they offer continually year by year, make perfect those who draw near; otherwise would they not have ceased to be offered, because [the worshipers] would have had no more consciousness of sins? But in them there is a reminder of sins year by year. For it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins. Therefore, coming into the world, he says, Sacrifice and offering you did not wish, but a body you prepared for me; in burnt offerings and sin offerings you took no pleasure. Then I said, See, I have come (in the scroll of the book it is written of me) to do your will, O God. Saying above that sacrifice and offering and burnt offerings and sin offerings you did not wish, nor took pleasure in them, which are offered according to the law, then he said, See, I have come to do your will, O God. He takes away the first, so that he may establish the second.” Do you see again the abundance? This sacrifice, he says, is one, but those many; for because of …

For why, tell me, were many needed, when one was sufficient? So the many, and the continual offering, show that they were never cleansed. For just as a remedy, when it is strong and productive of health and able to remove the whole disease, does everything when applied once; and what, applied once, accomplishes everything shows its strength by no longer being applied, and this is its work, that it is no longer applied; but if it is always applied, this is plainly a sign that it has had no strength; for it is the virtue of a remedy to be applied once, and not often; so too here. For why are they always being treated with the same sacrifices? For if they had been freed from all their sins, the sacrifices would not have been offered every day; for they had been appointed to be offered always for the whole people, both in the evening and in the day. So what was done was an accusation of sins, and not a loosing of sins, an accusation of weakness, not a display of strength. For since the first had no strength, a second was offered; and since this accomplished nothing, another again; so it was a conviction of sins. The offering, then, was a conviction of sins; but its being always, a conviction of weakness. But in Christ’s case the contrary: he was offered once, and sufficed forever. And he rightly called those things copies; so they have only the form, not the power also; just as in the case of portraits, the portrait has the form of the man, not his strength. So the truth and the type have something in common with each other; for the form is equal, but the power no longer. So too with heaven and with the tabernacle: the form was equal, for they were holy; but the power and the rest were not the same. What is, “He has been manifested for the setting aside of sin through his sacrifice”? What is setting aside? That is, contempt; for sin no longer has boldness; for it has been set aside. How? Though it ought to have exacted punishment, it did not exact it; that is, it suffered violence; when it expected to destroy all, then it was destroyed. “Through his sacrifice,” he says, “he has been manifested,” that is, he was manifested to God and drew near. Do not, then, because the priest did this many times in the year, think that it happened simply, and not because of weakness; for if not because of weakness, why was it done at all? For when there are no wounds, the one who cares for them has no further need of remedies. For this reason, he says, he commanded them to be offered always because of the weakness, and so that there might be a remembrance of sins. What then? Do we not offer every day? We offer, but making a remembrance of his death; and this is one, and not many. How one, and not many? Since it was offered once, like that one brought into the Holy of Holies. This is a type of that, and this of that; for we always offer the same one, not now one lamb and tomorrow another, but always the same; so the sacrifice is one. Otherwise, by this reasoning, since it is offered in many places, are there also many Christs? Not at all, but Christ is one everywhere, complete here and complete there, one body. Just as, then, being offered in many places he is one body and not many bodies, so too there is one sacrifice. Our high priest is he who offered the sacrifice that cleanses us. That one we offer now too, the one offered then, the inexhaustible one. This is done for a remembrance of what was done then: “For do this,” he says, “in remembrance of me.” We do not make another sacrifice, as the high priest did then, but always the same; or rather we make a remembrance of a sacrifice.

But since I have mentioned this sacrifice, I wish to say a few words to you who are initiated, few in measure, but having great strength and profit; for what is said is not ours, but the divine Spirit’s. What is it, then? Many partake of this sacrifice once in the whole year, others twice, others many times. Our word, then, is to all; not to those here only, but also to those who sit in the desert; for they partake once a year, and often even once in two years. What then? Whom shall we approve? Those who partake once? Those often? Those seldom? Neither those once, nor those often, nor those seldom, but those with a clean conscience, those with a pure heart, those with a blameless life. Let such always approach; but let those who are not such not approach even once. Why? Because they receive judgment on themselves, and condemnation and punishment and vengeance. And do not wonder; for just as food, though nourishing by nature, if it falls upon a disordered stomach, ruins and corrupts everything and becomes an occasion of disease, so too with these awesome mysteries. Do you enjoy a spiritual table, a royal table, and again defile your mouth with mire? Do you anoint it with ointment, and again fill it with stench? Tell me, I beg you, when you partake of communion after a year, do you think the forty days enough for you for the cleansing of the sins of the whole time? And again, when a week has passed, do you give yourself up to your former ways? Tell me, if, having recovered for forty days from a long illness, you again gave yourself up to those foods that cause disease, would you not have lost even your former toil? Plainly so. For if natural things change, much more those of the will. I mean, for example: by nature we see, and we have eyes healthy by nature; but often from an ill habit our power of sight is harmed. If, then, things that are from nature change, will not above all those that are from the will? Do you give forty days to the health of the soul, perhaps not even forty, and expect to propitiate God? You are joking, man. I say these things not to keep you from your one yearly approach, but rather wishing you to approach the holy things continually. That is why the priest too then cries out, calling the holy, and by this cry examines all for blemish, so that no one may approach unprepared. For just as with a flock, where many sheep are healthy [but others diseased, the diseased must be separated] from the healthy, so too in the church, since some sheep are healthy and others diseased, through this cry the priest separates these from those, going round everywhere by this most awesome cry, and calling and drawing the holy. For since it is not possible for one who is a man to know the things of his neighbor (“for who among men knows the things of a man,” he says, “except the spirit of the man which is in him?”), he lets out this cry after the whole sacrifice has been completed, so that no one may come to the spiritual fountain at random and as it happens. For with a flock too (for nothing prevents using the same example again), we shut the sick ones up inside and keep them in the dark, and give them other food, not allowing them to share either pure air or fresh grass or the spring outside. Here too, then, this cry is in place of a kind of bond. You cannot say, “I did not know; I was ignorant that danger attended the thing”; for Paul above all testified to this. But will you say, “I did not read it”? This is not a defense, but even a charge; you go into church every day, and are you still ignorant of this?

But so that you may not have even this excuse, for this reason, with a great voice, an awesome cry, like a herald raising his hand on high, standing high, visible to all, and crying out loudly in that awesome silence, the priest calls some and keeps others away, doing this not with his hand but with his tongue, more plainly than with a hand. For that voice, falling on our hearing, like a hand thrusts out and casts away some, and brings in and presents others. Tell me, I beg you, in the Olympic games does not the herald stand crying loudly and on high, “Does anyone accuse this man,” saying, “of being a slave, a thief, of wicked ways?” And yet those contests are not of the soul nor of good character, but of strength and body. If, then, where there is exercise of bodies there is great examination of character, how much more here, where the soul contends wholly? Our herald, then, stands now too, not holding each one by the head and leading him forward, but holding all together by the head within; he does not set other accusers against them, but themselves against themselves; for he does not say, “Does anyone accuse this man?”, but what? “If anyone accuses himself.” For when he says, “The holy things for the holy,” he says this: If anyone is not holy, let him not approach. He does not simply say “clean of sins,” but “holy”; for it is not only freedom from sins that makes a man holy, but also the presence of the Spirit and the wealth of good works. I wish you, he says, not only to be freed from mire, but also to be white and beautiful. For if the Babylonian king, choosing young men from the captivity, chose those fair in form and beautiful in appearance, much more must we who stand at the royal table be fair in form, in the form of the soul, having golden adornment, pure raiment, royal shoes, the face of the soul comely, the golden adornment put about it, the girdle of truth. Let such a one approach, and touch the royal cups. But if someone clothed in rags, filthy, squalid, wished to come to the royal table, see how much he will suffer, the forty days not being enough to wash away what has been done wrong in all the time. For if gehenna is not enough, though it is eternal (for this is why it is eternal), much less this short time. For we have not shown a strong repentance, but a weak one. Eunuchs above all should stand by the king; eunuchs, I mean, those white in mind, having no filth nor spot, lofty in mind, having the eye of the soul gentle and sharp-sighted, quick to turn and lively, not drowsy nor slack, full of great freedom, far from shamelessness and recklessness, wakeful, healthy, neither very gloomy and downcast nor dissipated and loose. We are masters of fashioning this eye and making it sharp-sighted and beautiful. For when we lead it not to the smoke nor to the dust (for all human things are such), but to the light breeze, to the clear air, to the things on high and lofty and full of great quiet and purity and great delight, [nourishing it] with such a sight. Have you seen covetousness, and someone having great wealth? Do not lead your eye there; the thing is mire, it is smoke, an evil vapor, darkness and great straitness, and the choking of cares. Have you seen a man practicing righteousness, content with his own, and having great breadth of ease, anxious about nothing, caring for nothing of the things here? Set your eye there, and lift it up; and you will make it much more beautiful and brighter, feasting it not on the flowers of the earth but on those of virtue, on self-control, on gentleness, and on all the others. For nothing so troubles the eye as an evil conscience: “My eye,” he says, “was troubled by anger”; nothing so darkens it. Free it from this outrage, and you will make it bright and strong, always fed with good hopes. And may it be that we all fashion this and the other activities of the soul such as Christ wishes, so that, having become worthy of the head that is set over us, we may depart where he wishes. For he says, “I wish that where I am, they too may be with me, that they may see my glory”; which may we all enjoy, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom to the Father and to the Holy Spirit be glory, might, honor, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.