Three Paradoxes in Hebrews 9

Last week on the Theopolis podcast, Peter Leithart, Alastair Roberts, Jeff Meyers, and I worked our way through the first half of Hebrews 9. Below I want to highlight something which became clear(er) to me as we did so.

Preamble

The Levitical system was, in many ways, a system full of paradoxes. On one hand it reflected Israel’s closeness to the God whom they worshipped. Yahweh was quite literally in their midst, and their life as a nation revolved around him. Yet, at the same time, the Levitical system reflected Israel’s distance from God. Yahweh was separated off from the common people with a whole series of buffer zones in order to contain and maintain his holiness.

Against that backdrop, Hebrews 9 draws our attention to three rather curious features of the Levitical system.

Paradox #1: The Tent

The book of Exodus ends with a problem. The tent has been successfully erected and filled with God’s glory, but, unfortunately, no-one is now able to enter it. God’s holiness is too great for mortal man to approach (Exod. 40.35). Against that backdrop, the Levitical system is inaugurated. The Levitical system allows Israel access into God’s presence via their priestly representatives. Yet Israel’s access to God is highly restrictive. Only the priests can enter the outer tent, and only one priest can enter the Most Holy place, and that only once a year. Hence, while the Levitical system is a means of access into God’s presence, it is at the same time a barrier. As long as the outer tent is in place, the Writer says, the way into the Most Holy Place is not fully open (Heb. 9.8). The outer tent both opens up and closes up.

Paradox #2: The Day of Atonement

A similar paradox underlies the Day of Atonement.

The Levitical system deals with only a small subset of man’s ‘sins’, and generally seeks to cleanse impurities rather than to take away sin.

The main exception is the Day of Atonement. Aaron lays his hands on the head of a live goat, and confesses over it “all the iniquities of the people of Israel, and all their transgressions, i.e., all their sins” (Lev. 16.21).

These sins would have included things which were well beyond the capacity of the Levitical system to deal with. Leviticus prescribes no sacrifices for those who have murdered, committed idolatry, broken the Sabbath, or dishonoured their parents. Such sins could be dealt with on the Day of Atonement—or at least so it would seem. But the text of Hebrews 9 claims otherwise. On the Day of Atonement, the Writer says, the high priests goes into the Most Holy Place in order to offer sacrifices “for himself and for the unintentional sins of the people” (Heb. 9.7).

How are we supposed to square the book of Hebrews’ claim with the implication of the book of Leviticus?

The answer requires us to consider the fine print of Leviticus 16.¹

The Day of Atonement’s ritual consists of three main steps, which involve a bull and two goats. First Aaron offers the bull as a purification sacrifice in order to make atonement for himself (and his house), and brings its blood inside the Most Holy Place (Lev. 16.6, 11); then Aaron does the same with one of the goats in order to make atonement for the people (16.9, 15); and, finally, Aaron confesses all Israel’s iniquity and transgression over the other goat and sends it away to a remote place (16.21).

The writer to the Hebrews’ point concerns what is accomplished in each of these steps. The two sacrifices, the Writer claims, have a highly restricted scope. They deal only with “unintentional sin” (hence the priest does not ‘make confession’ over these sacrifices). What deals with all Israel’s iniquity and transgression is the exiled goat, which is sent away in Step Three.

Consequently, at the heart of the Levitical system is an unusual paradox. The most powerful and extensive of all the Levitical sacrifices—the act of atonement par excellence—is not in fact a sacrifice at all, and is only tangentially connected with the Holy Place. Blood, we’re told, is central to atonement (Lev. 17.11), and yet the blood shed on the Day of Atonement does not cover Israel’s most grievous iniquities and transgressions. It merely covers their unintentional sins.

Something thus seems deeply unsatisfactory about the Levitical system. Sin is merely sent away (in the hope it won’t return) rather than dealt with in the presence of the One who has the power to impute it to or expunge it from Israel’s account.

Paradox #3: The Golden Altar

The third paradox involves the golden altar. The golden altar belongs to the Most Holy Place (Heb. 9.4).² Like the ark, it is made of acacia wood and overlaid with pure gold (Exod. 30). The text of I Kings 6 thus tells us the altar “belongs to the inner sanctuary” (I Kgs. 6.22), and the text of Leviticus 16.12–13 even seems to talk about a fire which burns “before the LORD”, which it does after Aaron has entered the Holy Place.

Why, then, isn’t the altar situated within the Most Holy Place?

The answer is because, if it was, the Levitical system couldn’t function. The high priest has to bring incense from the altar into the Most Holy Place so he can cover the mercy seat with clouds (or he’ll die).

Like the live goat’s role in the Day of Atonement, then, the layout of the tabernacle is paradoxical. The altar which should be in Yahweh’s presence is instead situated in the outer tent (to preserve the priests’ lives). And so the sacrifices which are intended to reconcile man and God are offered outside of God’s presence.

Conclusion

The writer to the Hebrews thus draws our attention to three somewhat paradoxical features of the Levitical system, which he does so we can better understand its fulfilment in Christ and more fully appreciate the wonder of what we have as Christians.

Unlike the priests who served at the golden altar, Jesus did not offer a sacrifice outside of God’s presence. He is the presence of God, and he died in God’s presence at the end of a life lived in full surrender to his Father.

Unlike the scapegoat, Jesus did not merely ‘bear our sins away’ to a remote place. He became sin, bore it down into the grave with him, where it was destroyed, and rose for our justification.

And, unlike Israel’s high priest, Jesus does not merely ‘represent’ us in God’s presence; he brings us directly into it. As his flesh was torn, the curtain of the Holy Place was torn in two, and a new way into God’s presence was opened up.

What was separated in the old order thus pointed beyond it, and has now been brought together in Christ in the context of a new and better covenant.

“Let us, therefore, draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. And let us hold fast the confession of our hope without equivocation, for he who promised is faithful.”

1. If I recall correctly, it was (unsurprisingly) Alastair Roberts who pointed us towards this solution.

2. The text says the Holy Place ‘has’ the golden altar (χρυσοῦν ἔχουσα θυμιατήριον). That needn’t mean the altar was inside the Holy Place. The verb ἔχω could simply mean ‘belongs to’, as it does in the phrase ‘things which belong to salvation’ (ἐχόμενα σωτηρίας) (Heb. 6.9).