Here is a summary of the main points thus far concerning the High Priest in chapter five of Hebrews.
Point 1: The high priest must be drawn from among mankind. For every high priest chosen from among men is appointed to act on behalf of men in relation to God (5:1). The Son of God became fully man. Otherwise, he could not serve as a high priest. God did not appoint angels in the Hebrew scriptures to be priests for Israel. They needed someone who could understand them and be their representative.
Point 2: The high priest represents humans before God to offer gifts and sacrifices for sins. He can deal gently with the ignorant and wayward, since he himself is beset with weakness (5:2). He is their intermediary in matters pertaining to salvation.
Point 3: The high priest cannot choose themselves for the role. No one takes this honor for himself, but only when called by God, just as Aaron was (5:4). God is the one who calls and installs them.
Point 4: God chose Jesus as the High Priest, forever. And being made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation to all who obey him, being designated by God a high priest after the order of Melchizedek (5:6, 9-10). Not in the line of succession but in the likeness of the mysterious Melchizedek. Before we talk about that, let’s look closely at these poignant verses.
In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverence. Although he was a son, he learned obedience through what he suffered (5:7-8).
This passage makes me tremble. I stand in awe watching Jesus live a life that fears the Lord.
What we have here in Hebrews is an unprecedented paradox. An affirmation of the dialectic tension between Jesus the risen, reigning eternal son of God on the one hand and human discipleship on the other. From the exalted Christ to the humble, tempted, and suffering man, Jesus.
If you’ve studied with me for any length of time, you’ve no doubt heard me say that in order to think biblically, you need two hands. On the one hand and on the other hand. This is foundational for grasping the Hebraic perspective of Scripture. Without it, passages like this utterly discombobulate you. How is it possible that the Son of God suffered?
How is it possible that God—who is in all respects perfect without parallel eternally unchanging in his character—suffered? Yet Jesus of Nazareth is the Son whose beginnings were from of old who is one with the Father. He becomes incarnate and, in whatever divine mysterious way, sets aside his divine prerogatives and humbles himself to become a man. As a man, he was fully human.
Which do we emphasize, his divinity or humanity?
It is not one or the other; that is the Western way of thinking. The answer is both because both are equally true. Dialectic tension is inherent in the Hebraic mindset. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth (John 1:1, 14).
Do not reduce these two things to one or try to synthesize them. Hold them in an affirming tension—on the one hand and on the other hand. As a man, the divine Son suffered, and his suffering was redemptive. Yeshua from Nazareth learned obedience. The Messiah grew in knowledge and wisdom as a man.
Selah.
Again, the author of Hebrews exercises his knowledge of Greek culture by using an idiom. In Greco-Roman educational circles learning is linked to suffering. To learn is to suffer because learning requires discipline and your natural physical body does not like discipline. Jesus learned faithfulness and obedience to God by enduring hardship and sorrow.
And here is an important point. The reference is not just to that last pivotal moment of his life in the garden of Gethsemane which preceded the cross. That was the climax. He suffers throughout his life, even as you and I. We are sojourners in a strange land, strange right now because Satan still has control over this territory. It is broken. It is corrupt. There is a continual struggle with forces both outside and inside of us.
Is there any among you who does not struggle with the disciplines of study, of praying, of obeying? Do you think that came easy to Jesus? If yes, you are mixing categories. You have suddenly jumped over to the Son of God side. No, stay on the human side.
Keep this in mind: though he was in the form of God, he did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient (Philippians 2:6-8).
Jesus suffered during his earthly life. He learned faithfulness. He learned obedience. He beckons you to follow him.
Biblically speaking, there is no true faith without obedience, which is James’ point in another context.
If you say you have faith and yet you are not obeying God’s Word, you are either ignorant or a liar. There is no authentic faithfulness without obedience. They go together—the obedience of faith. Said another way, we are called to enduring faithfulness. That kind of faith is more than just a one-time decision.
Perhaps at an altar like this one, you prayed some version of what has come to be called the sinner’s prayer. You made a decision for Christ—language popularized by the brilliant evangelist Billy Graham.
Yes, you must make a decisive choice. “Not my will, Father, anymore, but your will be done. I repent of going astray. I resolve to walk in paths of obedience for your name’s sake. I receive Jesus as my Lord, as my Savior.” That is a one-time decision. Faithful obedience is a process. It is a journey that begins with a decision. It is an ongoing pilgrimage, which means saying yes to God repeatedly.
Do not forsake or fall away from your journey. Instead, let us with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need (4:16).
Be faithful to Him who is Faithful by remembering that we who have fled for refuge have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us. We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever (6:18-20).
