Hebrews 7:11–28

Original Meaning

The Rules Have Changed (7:11–19)

AS A SKILLED preacher the author begins his comparison of Jesus’ priesthood with that of the old covenant priests indirectly, using a conditional clause and a rhetorical question: “If perfection could have been attained through the Levitical priesthood … why was there still need for another priest to come—one in the order of Melchizedek, not in the order of Aaron?” With the conditional clause he assumes the impossibility of perfection having been brought about through the old order of priests. The word “perfection” (teleiosis) here, as elsewhere in Hebrews, does not mean “without flaws,” but has to do with “arriving at a desired end” or “reaching a goal.”1 That “desired end” refers to the type of relationship established between God and his people under the new covenant.

As a rhetorical question the second half of verse 11 in reality makes a strong assertion concerning the need for a new order of priesthood. This assertion in the form of a question proclaims, “Since God’s ultimate goal of establishing an eternal relationship between himself and people could not be attained through the Levitical priesthood, there was still a need for a priesthood to arrive that could bring that perfection.” He takes this idea from Psalm 110:4, a text written years after the law was given. Since God gave an oath concerning a new order of priesthood, the old order must have fallen short of his final aim. This does not mean the Levitical system was completely ineffective, but that it was intended to foreshadow something better.2

The parenthetical statement, “for on the basis of it the law was given to the people,” seemingly makes reference to the Levitical priesthood. The statement might better be translated “for concerning it the law was given to the people.” The Old Testament people of God had received regulations related to the ministry of the Levitical priests through the law. Specifically, for example, the law required a priest to be a descendant of Levi.3 Yet, as Psalm 110:4 shows, a priest of a new order has come. In verse 12, therefore, the author explains that a change to a Melchizedekan priesthood heralds a change in the law of genealogical descent.

Thus, the change in God’s requirements concerning the office of priest may be seen most clearly from the fact that Jesus, the one appointed to high priesthood by God’s oath of Psalm 110:4, does not meet the requirement of genealogical descent established under the law (Heb. 7:13–14). His tribe, the tribe of Judah, never served at the altar of God under the old covenant because that covenant’s regulations made no provision for any tribe other than that of Levi.

The phrase “and what we have said” at the beginning of verse 15 refers back to the assertion of verse 12 that God has changed the rules for priesthood. This change in the law “is even more clear” because a priest like Melchizedek has appeared. In Jesus one understands clearly that this new high priest has been appointed not on the basis of ancestry, since he was from the tribe of Judah, but on the basis of his immortality, the author seizing on the term “forever” in Psalm 110:4 (Heb. 7:16–17).

The argument continues in verses 18–19 by providing the reason for Jesus’ having been appointed by God as a new type of priest: “The former regulation is set aside because it was weak and useless.” The words “weak” (asthenes) and “useless” (anopheles) both speak of ineffectiveness. The old covenant regulation concerning the priestly office simply could not and did not bring about God’s ultimate relational aim for his people (v. 11). Consequently, with the appointment of Jesus to priesthood, God introduces a “better hope” (i.e., a means to achieve God’s desired aim for relationship with his people), since we are offered a perpetual basis for drawing “near to God” (v. 19).

Bridging Contexts

UNDERSTAND THE INTERPLAY of dominant and subordinate themes. Recently my wife, Pat, and I took our son, Joshua, to the Memphis Zoo. Upon entering we were given a graphic map that laid out for us how to get to various exhibits. We passed through “Cat Country,” where large and small felines lounged in replicas of natural habitat. We visited “Primate Canyon” and saw monkeys swinging from branch to branch and large gorillas resting on “nests” high above the ground. This year the zoo featured an enclosed butterfly exhibit, in which hundreds of butterflies flitted freely among sweet-smelling flowers and trees. Chrysalis boxes held dozens of pupae, several of which opened before our eyes, revealing the beautiful outcome of metamorphosis. We also visited other exhibits, such as the Reptile House (not Pat’s favorite), the Tropical Bird House, and the Seal Amphitheater.

At each exhibit primary species of animals held the focus of attention. Yet constant reminders of the larger context of the zoo were everywhere. Signs as we left one exhibit pointed back to those we had already visited or ahead to those on down the path. A tee shirt advertising the butterfly exhibit could be seen in Cat Country. Also, sounds from other parts of the zoo were ever present as a monkey screeched or a lion roared.

At every turn in Hebrews the author makes extensive use of transitional material. He reiterates themes from earlier in the book and anticipates those to which he will give attention later. As we walk through Hebrews, therefore, each section has dominant themes, like the various exhibits at the zoo, and subdominant themes, which function as pointers backward and forward in the author’s line of reasoning. In 7:11–28, for example, the author mentions the weakness of the Levitical priests, an echo of 5:1–3.11 He also mentions the “better covenant,” the heavenly realm, and the finality of Christ’s sacrifice, all of which he develops in detail later in the book.

Therefore, an important aspect of applying 7:11–28 might be to focus on the dominant themes, allowing subordinate themes to hold our focus where appropriate elsewhere in the book.12 This does not mean we neglect the subthemes—their relation to the dominant themes must be brought into the discussion at some point—but we must not miss the author’s main points for each section of the book. This also will force us to a balanced approach in teaching or preaching Hebrews, rather than seizing on topics about which we may be especially passionate. If we major on the dominant themes in each section, we will cover the author’s primary concerns and do so in an equal-handed manner.

Two themes seem predominate in Hebrews 7:11–28. (1) The first addresses the shift from regulations surrounding the old covenant priesthood to the Melchizedekan order of priesthood realized in Jesus. (2) The other one, which flows from the first, addresses the relational implications of the “better covenant” (7:22) offered us in the exalted Son of God. These interrelated subjects must garner our focus as we move toward application.

Why the argument concerning the old covenant priests? For most of us involved in contemporary Christianity, holding too high a view of the Levitical priesthood does not constitute one of our greater temptations. Therefore, the author’s protracted, detailed argument on the superiority of Jesus’ priesthood when compared to that of the old covenant priests may seem somewhat irrelevant. “Give us practical help for living,” or “talk to us about real temptations faced in the modern world,” we might say. Even for those immersed in Christian theology, the old covenant priests’ inferior status when compared to Christ may be relegated to the realm of foregone conclusions. One might respond with a ho-hum attitude, “Why of course Jesus is greater than the priests of the old covenant; that’s obvious!” Yet, the author had his reasons for going to great lengths with this discussion, and it is our part to discern both why he did so and the implications for us.

The author of Hebrews wishes to articulate and magnify Jesus’ high priesthood, which he does in two steps. The first step considers the Son’s appointment as high priest (5:1–10; 7:1–28). The heavenly, once-for-all offering of this high priest is addressed in a second step (8:3–10:18). The old covenant priests serve as a reference point in the discussion on appointment to the office of priest. The author of Hebrews shows the strength and durability of Jesus’ priesthood by contrasting it with that of the old covenant priests. Ultimately the author wishes to demonstrate conclusively what Jesus has to offer the readers of this document by virtue of those characteristics that make him superior to the Levitical priests. The “hope” he offers and the “covenant” he guarantees are “better” because he, in nature, status, and work, is better.

However, the choice between the old covenant system and the new covenant system is not a choice between bad and good. Progression may be seen in the relationship between Jesus and the Levitical priests. God has not started over—he has brought perfection, in the sense of arriving at a desired goal, to that which was anticipated but unachievable in the Levitical priesthood. The role of the old covenant priestly regulations was a good role—that of facilitating worship during the time prior to Messiah (9:8, 23) and of foreshadowing Messiah’s own priestly work. This role, while important for its era, has now been swallowed up in the “better,” new covenant regulations and hope established by God’s oath concerning his Son: “You are a priest forever” (7:18–19).

This passage, therefore, is not about two paradigms of authority. The author never argues against the Old Testament Scriptures, since they are as much an authority for him as they were for Jewish rabbis of his day, although our author reads them in light of Christian teaching.13Hebrews 7:11–28 really confronts us with two paradigms of relating to God, one that has anticipated but has now been replaced by the other, because by nature it was unable to arrive at God’s ultimate aim. So the question posed by this passage is, “Who provides a superior basis for relating to God?” Thus, our application of the passage must address the question of religious paradigms and, especially, paradigms of worship, since the writer has two main points he wishes to communicate: (1) With the appointment of Jesus as high priest, the paradigm for worship of God has shifted, and (2) the new paradigm must be embraced as better than the old one.

The move to relational theology. In seeking to bridge the gap between the first-century message and our application of that message, we already have discussed one of the author’s main themes in 7:11–28: In Jesus’ appointment as high priest we have a new and superior paradigm for approaching God. Yet the author has more in mind than merely arguing a theoretical point. He wants his hearers to grasp the implications of this paradigm shift for their relationships with God through Christ. Thus, to address application of this passage adequately, one must move to a consideration of the relational side of theology—its implications for worship and endurance in Christian obedience.

For example, we might ask how the “perfection” arrived at in Christ’s appointment relates to our needs today. Some might point out that Christians are not perfect and the expressions of Christianity through the ages are far from perfect. Yet this perfection of which the author speaks connotes a “desired goal” born in the heart of God and accomplished by his Son. So how does this desired goal relate to us?

Furthermore, in what way might we draw encouragement from Jesus’ being the “guarantee” of the better covenant? What does it mean that the Son is able to save us “completely,” and how specifically might we be encouraged by the fact that he intercedes for us? In other words, how can the appointment of the Son as high priest answer our deepest needs and strengthen our relationship with God?

Contemporary Significance

CHRISTIANITY AS PARADIGM shift. In 1962 American philosopher and historian of science Thomas Kuhn published The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, a work that sent shock waves through modern academia and provided modern culture with the concept of “paradigm shift.”14 Kuhn suggested basically that scientific investigation and knowledge depend on social structures. Analyzing the Copernican revolution he showed that in subsequent eras “normal science” has been carried out based on a paradigm, or way of viewing reality, that dominates thinking. “Revolutionary science,” on the other hand, shifts the paradigm, bringing in a truly new way of viewing reality.

Kuhn’s concept of “paradigm shift” has been applied to many (some suggest far too many) disciplines and arenas since his work appeared, including areas such as education and business. The revolution from mechanical to digital systems in watch-making provides a classic illustration. Earlier in the twentieth century, the Swiss dominated the watch industry. Then, one of their own engineers invented a new way of making watches, based on digital technology. But executives of the Swiss watch industry failed to realize the potential of the new technology, dismissing it as a passing fad. The new approach to watch-making was snatched up by the Japanese, who took a firm hold on the market. The shift of market share to the East has resulted in economic devastation for the Swiss industry. Why the collapse of the Swiss watch-making empire? Its leaders were not able to shift paradigms. The “truth” of digital technology was foreign to those executives with the power of making decisions since they had lived for so long within a mindset of “Swiss superiority” in watches. They simply could not envision change.

Taylor Brancy writes, “Truth requires a maximum effort to see through the eyes of strangers, foreigners, and enemies.”15 In religion too it is important to be able to move out of the grasp of a specific paradigm when convinced of the truth of the new paradigm—even when the truth comes via a perceived enemy. We see this clearly in Paul’s Damascus Road experience (Acts 9:1–19), which depicts well both the trauma and fulfillment of a paradigm shift. Paul embodied what in varying degrees was the experience of the earliest Christians, who were Jewish and oriented to the Old Testament law. Their paradigm shift to a Christ-centered interpretation of those Scriptures did not constitute a break, but rather a fulfillment. God was doing something “new,” but in continuity with that which was “old.” Nevertheless, the paradigm had shifted.

Sholem Asch presents a fictional conversation between Mary, the mother of Jesus, and another son, Jacob. The story portrays Jacob’s struggle with Jesus’ identity and Mary’s insight to the fact that God alone can shift one’s paradigm of religious knowledge in Yeshua’s direction:

Jacob, her second son, was coming slowly toward her on the garden path. He walked with difficulty, like a man newly crippled.

“I know not who my brother is,” he said, coming close, “and I cannot judge how far his rights extend. I know only that God will justify him in his doings. But we, we have nothing in our hands but the guide rope of the Law. And he who cuts this rope, whoever he may be, cuts off our path to God.”

“My son, my son,” said Miriam passionately, “pray God that He plant a new spirit in you, that you may see the new path to the Lord which your brother lays out for the poor and simple. Without God’s help you shall never see your brother’s light, for what he does is not done according to the laws of men but in accordance with the will of God.”

Jacob’s sunken eyes opened wide as he stared at his mother. He dropped his head shamefully and stammered out in a choked voice:

“Ema, Mother, who is Yeshua?”

Miriam laid her hand on his arm.

“It is not for me to reveal the mysteries of God. When the time is ripe it shall be known to you, my son.”16

For the first believers, what warranted a shift from rabbinic or other forms of first-century Judaism to Christianity? “But when the time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under law …” (Gal. 4:4). The appearance of God’s Son—revelation of God’s will in Christ—demanded the paradigm change. This paradigm shift did not mean a change in God, a view known as “process theology,” but the progression of God’s revelation.17 In light of the new revelation in Christ, the reading of the old covenant Scriptures changed, associations changed, and individual lives changed.

So we may ask two millennia later, “What does this have to do with us?” and “How do we know that God will not radically shift the paradigm again?” (1) On the first question, we may answer in at least two directions, the first having to do with evangelism and the second Christian discipleship. (a) Christian evangelism, in essence, constitutes calling those outside the faith to shift paradigms to a Christian worldview.18 Whether they realize it or not, those with whom we share the gospel are working under paradigms they hold to be true. This fact calls for us to pray that God might enlighten their hearts with the truth of Christ and for us to be patient as God reveals himself to them. The truth of the gospel may be clear to us, but for those outside the faith, who are operating under a different paradigm, the message of Christ seems foreign.

(b) As Christ’s disciples we should monitor our own clarity of thought concerning the basic truths of the Christian faith. Are we holding faithfully to the “paradigm,” or are we moving away from it?19 This is what the author meant when in 2:1 he wrote, “We must pay more careful attention, therefore, to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away.”20 At 7:11–28 the author helps his readers “pay more careful attention … to what [they] have heard” by, perhaps, expanding their understanding of Christ’s superiority over another, older understanding of relationship with God. He attempts to “firm up” their confidence in the Christian paradigm.

(2) “Yet how,” one might ask, “do you know God has not radically shifted, or will not shift, the paradigm again?” After all, Islam claims to own the culmination of God’s revelation, as does Mormonism and other religions. These present much different pictures of Christ than that painted by the book of Hebrews. Modern, liberal Christianity, based on the advancement in human knowledge, presents various understandings of the Christian religion, and its view of Jesus is far removed from the exalted Savior of Hebrews 7.

In answer, remember that in chapter 7 Hebrews proclaims the eternality of the Son’s high priesthood. Thus, in the view of Hebrews, this order—this paradigm, if you will—by its very nature will not change. God’s new covenant way of relating to people, therefore, will never be altered. Thus religions such as Islam and Mormonism amount to contradictions of Hebrews 7 rather than progressive revelations, since they suggest a different view of Christ than one finds in Hebrews and the rest of the New Testament. Consequently, Hebrews’ view of reality, grounded in the eternal high priesthood of the Son of God, offers us lasting stability for life.

Relational theology. In our ministry at Union University my wife and I have the privilege to mentor young men and women in a variety of life circumstances, one of these being engagement for marriage. Premarital counseling gives both joy and satisfaction—joy because we are able to help these young people think through the various aspects of healthy relationships, and satisfaction for me personally, because I am reminded time and again that I am not the only male who started marriage fundamentally ignorant of my wife’s real needs!

For example, when in our first year of wedded “blisters” Pat was distraught over some matter, I was happy to provide her with the three reasons why she need not feel as she did. I quickly learned that my wife did not need my sermons in such moments, but rather my ear, my shoulder, my care. As we have matured in our understanding of each other, I have learned to speak more sensitively and appropriately and have learned how words work in conjunction with healthy actions. When relationships are what they should be, they blend a give and take of words and behaviors given in timely fashion and with proper motives. These help build into a relationship the security and significance for which we all long.

God is a God of relationships, who has spoken and acted to bring about and foster our relationships with him. It is no exaggeration to characterize his book, the Bible, as one long, interconnected network of texts about relationships. In the Scriptures we find love and hate, joy and grief, hope and despair, all in the context of interpersonal associations. From Adam and Eve to David and Jonathan to James and John to Paul and Barnabas to the author of Hebrews and his congregation, the Bible recounts lives set in the ever-present context of relationships. And behind all the lives looms the Life, the Story, the great Lover, who from before time has envisioned and worked for a relationship with you and me.

In Hebrews 7 God has given us powerful words meant for a relational end. This discourse detailing the superiority of Jesus’ high priesthood is far more than a theoretical treatise. It expresses relational theology, as all true theology is in essence.21 (1) Notice that God has brought about the means for establishing a lasting relationship with us—the “perfection” of verse 11, the “better hope … by which we draw near to God” of verse 19, and the “better covenant” of verse 22. Thus he is the initiator in the relationship.

(2) God has paid a price to give us security in that relationship, Jesus being the “guarantor,” who assures us of the covenant promises of God as the high priest who has been appointed to office “forever.”

(3) God has expressed his commitment to meet our deepest needs for forgiveness, holiness, and future deliverance, Jesus being the Savior who is able to “save completely those who come to God through him” (v. 25).

(4) Finally, God maintains his relationship with us by the work of his Son as intercessor, a ministry he started in his incarnation and continues in his exaltation. God has gone and continues to go to great lengths to relate to us his love in words and actions. His aim has always been nothing less than a healthy relationship. May we relate to him in a healthy manner this day.

Original Meaning

The Power of a Divine Oath (7:20–22)

HOW WAS THIS new order of priesthood established? The author answers this implied question with a negative statement: “It was not without an oath!” The “others” of verse 20 refers to the old covenant priests, who became priests by genealogical descent—a completely different means of appointment than that seen in the case of the exalted Son. The writer to the Hebrews sees clearly that God, in Psalm 110:4, used an oath in his Son’s case: “The Lord has sworn.…” This psalm also proclaims confidently that the Lord “will not change his mind” and has promised to the Son that his priesthood will last “forever.” Because of the unequivocal nature of God’s oath, all danger of some change in the future has been wiped away.

Thus, Jesus has become the “guarantee” of a better covenant. The word “guarantee” (engyos), which can also be translated “guarantor,” was not used normally in the ancient world to discuss covenants or testaments but was a common legal image. The word referred to a person who guaranteed the position or endeavors of someone else while putting him-or herself at risk. In the present context the author pictures Jesus as the one who guarantees God’s covenant promises. The hearers, as new covenant people, have a covenant that is “better” because, by virtue of God’s oath, Jesus, the mediator of that covenant (cf. 8:6), holds an unalterable position.4 Our hope, therefore, rests on the most secure of terms.