Insanity, or In Sanctity?

Sermon

“And every priest stands day after day at her service, offering again and against the same sacrifices that can never take away sins. (10:11 NRSV).” If you have heard this refrain before, you’re not alone. The story of the priest is not lost on the church, nor is it lost beyond the church, even if the characters and conflict change. A man once challenged God seven times to change his call, expecting God to oblige. That man was Moses, and he led God’s daughter Israel away from Egypt. A woman once submitted her book, written on napkins in a coffee shop, twelve times to twelve different publishers, before Bloomsbury finally gave her a chance. That woman was JK Rowling, and that book was Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. A man with dreams of an entertainment empire was turned down 302 times before that mouse of a man became the gold standard for animation. That man was Walt Disney, and that mouse was Mickey. And legend even has it that one man was rejected over a thousand times because of the way he decided to cook a chicken. I mean, who would think to reject Colonel Sanders?! Clearly not me.

Sounds a lot like the pop culture definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result. In fact, many folks believe that the entire book of Hebrews is built in a similar way, with the repetition of the “Christ is High Priest” terminology being used ad nauseum throughout. To summarize the argument, Jesus came as God incarnate to not only be the one great priest of all of creation, but also to be the one great sacrifice for all creation; we get this imagery of Christ the priest sacrificing Christ the offering, the holy slain by holy hands, the fully human given up by the fully divine.

functions as a direct contrast between all priests and The Priest. No distinction is made between priest and high priest, for that is of no concern here. Nor is the fact that, technically, this is not true, as priests would rotate the duties of daily sacrifice. The writer here is concerned primarily that every priest is equal in their result: the sacrifice they offer is insufficient. They stand at the altar and offer the same insufficient gifts, and we know that they are insufficient, because if they could remove the weight and presence of sin, they would not need to be continually offered for such a purpose: “Since the law has only a shadow of the good things to come and not the true form of these realities, it can never, by the same sacrifices that are continually offered year after year, make perfect those who approach. Otherwise, would they not have ceased being offered, since the worshippers, cleansed once for all, would no longer have any consciousness of sin? (10:1-2 NRSV).”

The priests are many, the posture is standing, and the gift is inadequate. “But when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, ‘he sat down at the right hand of God,’ and since then has been waiting ‘until his enemies would be made a footstool for his feet. For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are sanctified (10:12-14 NRSV).” Christ as high priest and true sacrifice need only operate a single atonement, and sits next to God, and need not give again, for his gift was more than adequate. The distinction between sitting and standing here serves not to admonish liturgical practice, nor to comment on how Jesus does ministry, nor to indicate that his status as prince contrasts with the priest status of pauper. It is, in fact, yet another surfacing of the idea of Sabbath; as Christ’s act of atonement and expiation was complete, he rests, for it is a final act for all humanity.

I have been reading from the New Revised Standard Version during our time together, but I think it is important to note one issue in translation that isn’t captured well by the NRSV. In verse 14 we find that this sacrifice “has perfected for all time those who are sanctified.” This should not be confused with a status of election or even perfection, as our contemporary context might understand it. As one begins to understand the nature of what it means to be sanctified, one can then begin to see that sanctification is not just a moment, but an ongoing process of perfection as done by the work of the Holy Spirit among the church. A better translation, then, might read that Christ’s sacrifice “has holy-fied for all time those who are being made holy.”

The difference may seem small, until we consider what Biblical holiness consists of. Modern thought has distorted the idea of holiness as this characteristic of flawlessness and being without error. Holiness as the Bible intended it is meant to indicate that something has been set apart and made unique. The cross does not make us perfect, but it sets us on a different level than those who have yet to receive salvation; not to say a better level, but it must be noted that it is a different level, or at least a different path on the same level.

It is here the writer of Hebrews changes focus here. We have moved from the place of theology and theory to a call to action and application. “Therefore, my friends—” every time you hear the word ‘therefore’ be sure to ask yourself, “What’s it there for?”—“Therefore, my friends, since we have confidence to enter the sanctuary by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain (that is, through his flesh), and since we have a great priest over the house of God, ()” One is reminded here of the Gospel scene of Calvary, where the veil of the temple was tore in two from top to bottom. It is important there to see that the veil could not have been torn by human hands, for no human hands would have been able to reach the top of the veil without assistance; no, for sure, it is God who has torn the veil. Not only has the cross allowed us into the holy of holies, but God has come bursting out.

But what is this confidence that we have? We have discussed why we have permission to enter in, but what is this boldness, this “παρρησιαν” that we have, according to the writer? While it is certainly bold to even enter the temple in this way, I believe that it is the “way” that we enter. One might even say that the focus shifts here, and we must now be aware of our “via”, our way of behavior.

This “way” is signified by three distinct concepts—you may recognize them as we go. This first way? “Let us approach 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. ( NRSV)” The emphasis is made here, we are able to approach God, at last! And if we can approach God, we should be able to approach each other, entering into a worship community, and we should be able to approach fully. A true heart is taken here to mean sincerity and loyalty; we have to MEAN IT when we approach God, for God certainly meant it when God broke into human existence, flipped tables in the synagogue, sweat blood in Gethsemane, and screamed in agony the final breath. We have to be loyal to God always, wavering in our devotion no more than Jesus wavered in the desert, facing temptation in its most wicked form.

The references here to sprinkling and washing are obvious ties to the forms of baptism in the church, and the writer certainly intended to mean this allusion, as there is evidence of both forms in the early church. The emphasis here, however, is a further commentary on the old priestly system of sacrifice. The priest would sprinkle the ashes of a heifer on the altar as a means of purifying the self and the washing with water is in reference to Ezekiel’s prophecy of moral purification and interior renewal. It is important to not let these OT images be seen as obsolete in the light of the incarnation of Jesus; were it not for the cross, these things would still be at the forefront of purification ritual, however insufficient they may be. But the result of purification has already been achieved by this saving cross-work of Jesus, and that is obviously the key focus here for the writer of Hebrews.

The second way? “Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful ( NRSV).” Our confession of hope is a confession of lordship that is yet to be finished; it is a confession of things not yet seen; it is a confession of a Kingdom that is “already not yet.” The concept of not wavering here would seem to indicate something about the confessor in this text. A fairly standard rhetoric in Christian circles, as Paul describes steadfastness as the final and penultimate fruit of the Spirit in , it should logically follow that we should not be looking to waver in our confession of hope.

Grammatically, however, the word for wavering actually connects to the nature of the confession, not the confessor. This hope does not waver. It is not a fleeting, unsteady, half-winded hope. The nature of the hope itself does not change. Whomever has this hope can rest assured that, provided they continue to confess Jesus as Christ and have an outpouring of that confession in the world, they can count on the hope of salvation. And why is this hope so sturdy and immovable? “For he who has promised is faithful (v. 23b).” Our success in hope is not encumbered by our nature of wavering, for the one who promised the other end of the bargain is most certainly going to follow through; nevertheless, it is still needing for us to hold our end of the covenant, and live faithfully as God has commanded.

And the third and final way? “And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching ( NRSV).” What striking language the writer of Hebrews continues to use here. To PROVOKE someone is to cause a response that is utterly necessary to the level of emotion they are having in the moment. We see coaches and managers provoke their players and employees to great things, we listen to music when we exercise to heighten our readiness, and we sing praises together in services to implore our worship. Am I not trying to provoke you even now, as I walk through words written two millennia ago, trying to get you to see these words as important? I might not be doing the best job at it, but nevertheless, that is a goal of preaching.

And note what the writer tries to provoke in his audience: LOVE and GOOD DEEDS. These are not separate ideas; no, they are one in the same. Love for others provokes you to act kindly and goodly toward them, which then elicits love in their hearts, causing them to act the same. Our source comes in the purest form: God’s good act of love on the cross, which should fill us with this insane amount of desire to do nothing less than that same love for both God and for others, even the ones we might not think deserve it at the time we give it.

And how exactly can we perform this love and good deed? Not neglecting to meet together. The writer makes a comment here that some people have neglected to do this very thing. I’m not sure if the writer was talking about people that his audience knew, or if these were rhetorical people, but the point is clear: Some people are neglecting to do love. What does the writer then say? “Not neglecting to meet together… but encouraging one another.” For the writer of Hebrews, these, too, are connected; to encourage one another, we must meet together. We must be in fellowship with each other. We must be present for each of us. For all of us. Sure, we can post on a Facebook wall, “Praying for you, #blessed, fam.” But true encouragement requires—no, it demands—our sacrifice of time and attention for the sake of someone else. This love is more than an emotion, THIS LOVE IS A VERB. If you claim to love someone, and do nothing for them, I’d strongly consider you reevaluate what you mean when you say you love them.

If you claim to love God, and do nothing for God or in God’s name or for God’s people, I’d strongly consider you reevaluate what you mean when you say you love God.

As Hebrews carries on, it tells us that we have plenty of examples of how this is done, and while we won’t spend time observing that part of the text today, I encourage you to read on and see the examples, and be encouraged. This message from the writer of Hebrews is not meant to criticize the audience. This is exhortation, this is encouragement, this is love poured out by the writer of Hebrews. Earlier, we are reminded that we have this hope, this confession of hope, as an anchor for our soul. That does not simply mean that we won’t be thrown about by a storm. It just means we won’t be too far from where we where before the storm hit us. If you are one of those people who make progress for months, and then have a tough week that seems to set you back years, I want you to hear that those tough weeks do not have to do that. Because your hope of salvation is not based on you or your works. Your hope is rooted firmly in the saving cross-work of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Saviour.

I mentioned earlier that the pop culture definition of insanity was to do the same thing over and over again, expecting different results. Actually, insanity is a legal term used in courts to help distinguish between guilt and innocent. It’s interesting, because a person who the judge deems unfit or unequipped for judgment is judged on that scale. As we continue to let ourselves be made holy, and strive in faith, and hold to hope, and do love, we realize that we have been deemed fit for judgment. We are no longer “without mind or heart” before God. And yet, we do the same sins over and over again, and we expect different results. We are fully deserving of the judgment that was coming to us.

Even still, Jesus, God incarnate, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, crucified, died, buried, descended into hell, rose again on the third day, ascended into heaven, seated at the right hand of God, and on the way to judge the living and the dead, that same God. Jesus. That same Jesus cried out in agony for us. For the poor, the meek, the merciful, the cripple, the prostitute, the tax collector, the widow, the orphan, the one who knows they need saving, the one who has no idea, and even the one who thinks they are perfectly fine. That same Jesus cried out in agony for us, so that we might cry out from our hearts for our neighbors, and the heavens and the earth might cry out together, “Holy Holy Holy, God of Heaven and Earth.”

As we close with a song, I want you to feel these words of prayer, “Lord prepare me to be a sanctuary, pure and holy, tried and true.” Day after day every priest brought sacrifices that were not good enough. Jesus brought the ultimate sacrifice—Himself—so that our worship and offering to God of faith, hope, and love, would be sufficient, forever and ever.