The New Testament In Its World – NT Wright and Mike Bird – Early Christian Letters & Hebrews

The New Testament can be divided up into three main sections. First, there is the evangelium, the four canonical gospels. Second, there is the Paulinium, the thirteen letters attributed to Paul, plus the epistle to the Hebrews (which sounded sufficiently Pauline to justify placing it there). Third, there is the apostolos, which normally includes the Acts of the Apostles and the Catholic Epistles, with the apocalypse of John often following after.

While these groupings make sense, we might want to tinker with them. First, although the Acts of the Apostles was normally grouped with the Catholic Epistles (in the manuscripts known as 74, 0166, 307, 945, 1409), it is not unknown for it to be joined to the four gospels (45, 53), especially since Luke-Acts comprises a narrative and theological unity. Second, despite the best efforts that went into imagining Paul as the author of Hebrews, it is not in fact Pauline, though it has some interesting similarities to his writing; so we think it best to place Hebrews among the Catholic Epistles. Third, while one might be inclined to create a distinctive Johannine corpus comprised of the gospel of John, the letters of John, and the apocalypse of John, we nevertheless think it best to keep these Johannine writings where they are, in order to ensure a more even distribution of the Johannine witness across the New Testament.

On top of that, while the apocalypse does not belong within the Catholic Epistles, its apocalyptic texture and prophetic message should not disguise the fact that it has the features of an encyclical epistle, composed to instruct and assure several congregations.2 Thus the apocalypse of John is a natural sequel to the Catholic Epistles. It forms a fitting end to the Christian Bible, with its vision of creation redeemed, renewed, and restored to its original purpose of worshipping God, and of the redeemed community summing up creation’s worship and reigning with God and the ‘lamb’ in the new heaven-and-earth reality. In our presentation, then, the Catholic Epistles include Hebrews, James and Jude, 1–2 Peter, and 1–3 John, with the apocalypse of John artificially attached to round off the New Testament canon.

In the ancient world, letter-writing was largely a substitute for personal presence. The Greek sophist Libanius wrote, ‘Now, it would be sweeter to be able to see each other, but neither is the second-best choice trivial, namely to send and to receive a letter’, and ‘When you look at my letter, think that you are looking at me.’3 There was a wide variety of ancient letters. The New Testament epistles mirror this variety. We can loosely suggest the following: a protreptic discourse in letter form (Romans), circular letters (Ephesians, 1 John), Diaspora letters (James, 1 Peter), a letter of commendation (Philemon; 3 John), a letter of rebuke (Galatians), a paraenetic letter (2 Peter), a letter of warning (Jude), and letters of friendship (Philippians; 2 John).

Christian letters are also similar to the general form of hellenistic letters with a greeting, thanksgiving, main body, and benediction. Yet, while some New Testament letters are of a comparable length to the mundane letters of family life and commerce (especially Philemon, 2 John, 3 John, and Jude), the New Testament letters are often much longer than most standard letters, conveying sermon-like content (for example Hebrews, James, 1 John), comprising theological treatises (for example Romans, Ephesians), or representing lengthy responses to complicated social situations (for example 1–2 Corinthians).

It seems clear that a significant number of early Christians were highly literary and quite bookish. This was partly inherited from Judaism, which had its own culture of sacred texts and other valued texts that led on from them. But it was also driven by frequent communications and exchanges between various Christian assemblies across the Roman empire. This propensity to share opinions and concerns is evident in the apostolic decree noted in Acts 15, in the Pauline correspondence, in the letters to seven churches in Revelation 2—3, and in somewhat later examples such as the letter of Clement of Rome to the Corinthians, the letters of Ignatius, and the flurry of letters associated with the Quartodeciman controversy in the late second century.

Christians wrote letters to one another precisely because they were conscious of being a worldwide movement, one that crossed geographical and ethnic boundaries. They felt to some degree invested in, and even responsible for, other believers.4 The Catholic Epistles are part of this literary and social phenomenon, with letters composed to assemblies both near and far, to help sort out existing problems and to encourage fellow-pilgrims in their life of faith.

TABLE 29.1: EARLIEST COPIES OF THE CATHOLIC EPISTLES AND THE APOCALYPSE OF JOHN*

Book	Siglum	Manuscript name	Date	Contents
Hebrews	46	P.Chester Beatty II	c. AD 200	1.1—9.16; 9.18—10.20, 22–30; 10.32—13.25
James	20 23	AM 4117 P.Oxy. 1171 P.Oxy 1229	3rd century 3rd century	2.19—3.9 1.10–12, 15–18
Jude	72	Bodmer VII-VII	3rd/4th century	complete
1 Peter	72	Bodmer VII-VII	3rd/4th century	complete
2 Peter	72	Bodmer VII-VII	3rd/4th century	complete
1 John	9	P.Oxy 402	3rd century	4.11–12, 14–16
2 John	B	Vaticanus	4th century	complete
3 John	B	Vaticanus	4th century	complete
Revelation	98	P.IFAO II 31	c. AD 200	1.13–20

* Hill and Kruger 2012.

In some surviving early manuscripts (see Table 29.1), the Catholic Epistles are usually headed with the designation ‘epistles’ or ‘catholic epistles’ with a further mention of James, Peter, John, and Jude as the authors.5 The Catholic Epistles are ‘catholic’ (Greek katholikē, meaning ‘according to the whole [world]’, coming into Latin as the loan-word catholicus) in the sense of being applicable to the universal church, that is, the church ‘catholic’.6 Strictly speaking, the Catholic Epistles are not general or encyclical letters; they are written to specific addressees, such as Jewish Christians in a rural setting (Jas. 2.1–7; 5.16), marginalized Christians in Asia Minor (1 Pet. 1.1), or specific leaders in Asian house-churches (2 Jn. 1; 3 Jn. 1). While Hebrews, 1 John, 2 Peter, and Jude are without explicit addressees, they are occasioned by a specific situation discernible in each letter. That said, these letters do exhibit a valuable blend of pastoral assurance and moral exhortation that transcends their original audiences. In particular, the sermonic and paraenetic character of Hebrews, James, 1 Peter, and 1 John certainly makes them conducive to a wide and ‘catholic’ readership.

THE CANONICAL FUNCTION OF THE CATHOLIC EPISTLES
There is a certain intra-canonical logic to the Catholic Epistles. For a start, the epistle to the Hebrews makes a good transition from the Pauline letters to the Catholic Epistles proper. Hebrews is a ‘word of exhortation’,7 one that is influenced by Pauline themes, perhaps even stemming from the Pauline circle, yet the argument and imagery proceeds in a direction that is quite unlike anything Paul himself ever wrote. Hebrews is thus an effective bridge between the Pauline and catholic collections. When the New Testament is seen as a whole, it reminds readers that the two letter-collections are interdependent.8 James is something of a rehearsal of Jesus’ teachings, particularly about caring for the poor; the letter lays out a clear and practical mode of discipleship. James is an important warning against reducing Christian faith to the cerebral and creedal realms: faith without works is dead. Jude affirms the confessional and the practical. The letter insists on the importance of contending for a common and holy faith, warning against licentiousness and urging readers to keep themselves in God’s love. The two Petrine letters describe the church as a redeemed and royal people, which must live up to the high vocation required by its election and calling. Although Jesus’ followers face harassment and persecution, they know that Christ has died for them, he has left them an example, and in the fullness of God’s time he will return to complete the work of new creation. The Johannine letters are principally about the continued witness to the Word and the legacy of love in the churches. According to John the elder (if he is indeed the author), following Jesus means walking in the light, loving one another, and spurning the world and its antichrists. Love confronts error with the light of truth.

Another function of the Catholic Epistles is to present a comprehensive witness to Jesus and an exhortation to discipleship beyond that which was expressed in the Pauline corpus. These letters stem from the Jerusalem ‘pillars’ of James (the brother of Jesus), Peter, and John (see Gal. 2.9) and another relative of Jesus (Judah, normally known by his anglicized version ‘Jude’). The Catholic Epistles remind us, then, that Paul is not, so to speak, the only apostolic show on tour. Although Paul was very careful to marry the assurance of the gospel with the necessity of moral transformation (see for example Rom. 6.1–23; 8.1–11; Gal. 5.6; Eph. 2.10), he himself was quite aware that he was open to the accusation of fostering antinomianism or inadvertently promoting a kind of lukewarm easy-believism (Rom. 3.8; 6.1–2).

The Catholic Epistles are also characteristic of a particular species of apostolic exhortation. Most of Paul’s letters were written to relatively young congregations, ones that either he had planted himself, or his co-workers and wider circle of supporters had recently cultivated. However, the Catholic Epistles appear to have been written to established churches facing duress, perhaps even to second-generation believers in the midst of external hardship and internal division. Among the addressees of the Catholic Epistles are some, it seems, who may be waning in their enthusiasm for a future eschaton, becoming lax in their moral discipline, driven into doubt by in-house rivalries, tempted perhaps by persecution to give up meeting together, or possibly even contemplating giving up altogether. The Catholic Epistles, then, address a particular set of circumstances, including social dislocation (Hebrews), poverty (James), cultural alienation (1 Peter), external hostility combined with internal schism (1–3 John), as well as intrusive disruption (2 Peter, Jude).

BLAST FROM THE PAST: AUGUSTINE ON HOW THE CATHOLIC EPISTLES BALANCE OUT PAUL
In the fifth century, Bishop Augustine of Hippo wrote a work about the correct relationship between faith and works. He declared at one point:

Even in the days of the Apostles certain somewhat obscure statements of the Apostle Paul were misunderstood, and some thought he was saying this: ‘Let us do evil that good may come from it’ [Rom. 3.8] because he said: ‘Now the law intervened that the offense might abound. But where the offense has bounded, grace has abounded yet more’ [Rom. 5.20] . . . Since this problem is by no means new and had already risen at the time of the Apostles, other apostolic letters of Peter, John, James and Jude are deliberately aimed against the argument I have been refuting and firmly uphold the doctrine that faith does not avail without good works. (Aug. Fid. Op. 21, cited in Nienhuis 2007, 2)

As a literary collection, the Catholic Epistles function much like the Book of the Twelve Minor Prophets in the Old Testament: a diverse and distinct witness to God. Although each of the Catholic Epistles has its own context, content, and unique features, some common themes emerge:

1. the Old Testament authorizes the church’s kerygma and validates the church as God’s royal and holy people;
2. suffering is the crucible that tests and refines authentic faith;
3. genuine faith is characterized by perseverance, love, obedience, and transformation;
4. believers are called to keep the teaching of Jesus and follow the example of Jesus;
5. Jesus’ death cleanses believers from the contamination of sin;
6. Jesus’ resurrection brings believers into a living hope;
7. Jesus’ ascension marks him out as the lord of the universe;
8. elders should shepherd the church with gentleness and compassion;
9. the church must be vigilant against allowing licentiousness to gain a foothold;
10. the church should guard against inadequate accounts of Christ’s person and work;
11. the church should be characterized by holiness and hospitality;
12. the church should face Christ’s return with confidence in receiving its reward of eternal life.

In sum, the Catholic Epistles are focused on bringing adolescent congregations to maturity in Christ. They aim to equip these congregations with a deep and enduring faith, as robust as it is contagious, in a hostile and volatile environment.

THE LETTER TO THE HEBREWS

INTRODUCTION
Hebrews is, to us at least, a strange and difficult book. To the casual reader today, it seems to ramble on about things that are not exactly burning topics of discussion over breakfast or bitterly debated on Christian blog sites. It begins with a complex discussion of angels and what God did not say to them; continues with a brief treatment of Psalm 95 and what ‘rest’ really means; moves on to discuss a man named Melchizedek whom Abraham once met but who remains unknown to most people today; goes on to talk about the furniture in the wilderness tabernacle; and ends with an exhortation to ‘go outside the camp’. None of this is the kind of thing that comes up routinely in conversation, even among practising Christians.

Entering the world of Hebrews after a close study of Paul is like listening to Monteverdi after listening to Bach. We are in the same world, but the colour is different; or in musical terms, the notes are similar, but they are being played on different instruments.

The letter is telling the same basic story as the evangelists, Paul, Peter, and John the Seer. World history, focused on Israel’s story, has led up to a dramatic point, namely the overthrow of the powers of darkness and the call of the nations to worship the one true God. The Old Testament provided the scaffolding, and now God has built the new Jerusalem, forming a multi-ethnic Abrahamic family and putting the world right at last. Hebrews insists that the scaffolding is now eclipsed by the actual building, the fulfilment of the scriptural hopes in Jesus, the son. All the emblems of Israel’s call, and all the instruments of Israel’s vocation—Temple, law covenant, priesthood, cultus, Mount Zion—are there; but now they have come to a new fulfilment in the Messiah and his people. We could perhaps look at Hebrews as, in a sense, a Christian introduction to the Old Testament. The letter points out that Israel’s scriptures were always looking ahead to something yet to come: a new covenant, a new type of priesthood, a new altar, a better sacrifice, a city to which the present Jerusalem would only be an advance signpost. We could summarize Hebrews this way: the scriptures had always pointed ahead to something new and better, and it has now arrived in Jesus.

AUTHORSHIP OF HEBREWS

Clement of Alexandria (AD 150–215) attributed Hebrews to Paul, suggesting that it had been written initially in Hebrew for Hebrews, and then translated by Luke into Greek. Origen (AD 185–253) leaned towards Pauline authorship, but acknowledged the lack of certainty and famously opined: ‘But who wrote the epistle, in truth only God knows.’

Since the Reformation, however, Pauline authorship has been mostly rejected. Alternative proposals, from ancient to modern times, have included Barnabas (Tertullian), Clement of Rome (Calvin), Apollos (Luther), and Priscilla (Adolf von Harnack). There are, however, significant differences in vocabulary, style, and rhetorical texture, as well as what seem to many an unPauline theological emphasis on the Temple and priesthood. Elsewhere Paul always identifies himself in either the greeting or ending of his letters. It would be very odd for Paul to describe himself as someone who heard the gospel not from the lord but from ‘those who heard him’.6 All this makes Pauline authorship grossly improbable.

Perhaps the most we can say is that the author was probably a well-educated second-generation Greek-speaking Jewish Christian, thoroughly versed in the Septuagint, familiar with Greek philosophy, and at home both in Roman rhetorical techniques and Jewish interpretative traditions.

DATE

If the authorship remains uncertain, so does the date. It might be as early as AD 50; it might be as late as AD 95.

PURPOSE
The letter to the Hebrews seems designed to persuade Jewish Christians not to go back to the forms of Jewish life that did not acknowledge Jesus as Messiah. Many will have felt pressure to do so, particularly under threat of persecution. The Jewish world, enjoying official Roman recognition, represented a much safer social and legal option than belonging to an unpopular sect. This explains the exhortations to endurance (see Heb. 2.1–4; 3.12–14; 10.39; 12.3–11) and the recollection of earlier harassment (Heb. 10.32–39).

1. Prologue about God’s son (1.1–4)
   The letter launches straight into one of the most sublime early Christian statements of who Jesus was and is. He is the ‘son’, who shares in the shining reflection of God’s glory; he is the precise expression of God’s own being. Jesus is the heir of all things, the divine agent of creation, the reflection of God’s glory, the very imprint of God’s being, the sustainer of all things, the redeemer who is enthroned next to God. He has a name greater than the angels. Whatever else the letter is about, it clearly emphasizes (what we might call) the ultimacy of Jesus. He is the prophet through whom God declared his final word. He is the priest who accomplished a perfect work of purification. He is the king who sits enthroned beside the majesty of God.

2. Jesus is greater than the angels (1.5—2.9)
   The christological claim is demonstrated by comparing ‘the son’ and the angels, to whom the son is superior. Psalm 2.7 and 2 Samuel 7.14 imply that the sonship of Jesus is unique and is much greater than the sonship of the angels. Psalm 97.7 indicates that the angels must worship the son; the son must then be far greater. Psalm 104.4 stresses that angels are ministers of God, not embodiments of him. In contrast, Psalm 45.6–7 applies the title ‘God’ to Israel’s king, and this has become a reality in the Messiah. Psalm 102.25–27 refers to the son’s role in creation, both of the old heaven and earth and of the new heaven and earth. Unlike the created order, then, and also unlike the angels, the son is not subject to change or dissolution. Psalm 110.1 gives to the son the privilege, never afforded to an angel, of sharing God’s throne. In short, the angels are subjects of God, servants of those who inherit salvation. In other words, the angels are inferior both to the son and also to those whom the son saves, namely those who belong to the church (1.6–14).

This emphasis on the son’s superiority to angels was not simply a way of showing how great he was and is, or to warn the readers against worshipping angels. The point—standing as an introduction to the whole letter—is that for many Jews one of the things that guaranteed the ultimacy of the law of Moses itself was that it had been given through angels.

The comparison with angels now takes on a new twist with a reflection on Psalm 8 (2.5–9). God did not place the world under the control of angels; God always intended to crown humans as vice-regents of creation. Psalm 8 looks back to the human vocation as in Genesis 1 and 2. The key phrase is ‘son of man’ in Psalm 8.4, quoted in 2.6: this can simply mean ‘human beings’, but through the connection with Daniel 7 it was easy to see Jesus himself as the ‘one like a son of man’, in whom God’s ultimate purposes have been decisively launched.

3. Jesus the great high priest (2.10—6.20)
   Jesus is qualified by God to be the pioneer of salvation through what he suffered (2.10–18). United with his brothers and sisters, he has brought a ‘cleansing’ for sins (as already in 1.3) and made ‘atonement’ for sins (2.17). Psalm 22.22 and Isaiah 8.17–18 explain: Jesus became one with his people, sharing an existence of flesh and blood, and overcoming the fear that enslaved them and the power of death that the devil held over them (2.14–15). He does this, obviously, not for angels but for his people—Abraham’s extended family. Jesus thus becomes ‘a merciful and trustworthy high priest in God’s presence, to make atonement for the sins of the people’ (2.16–17). This is the first mention of Jesus’ priesthood, a theme that will dominate the centre of the letter, and it introduces the pastoral theme: because the high priest was tempted like us, he can help us in our temptations (2.18; 4.15).

This brings us to the point of this whole Jesus-greater-than-the-angels argument (3.1–6). Jesus is superior to Moses; Moses was great, God’s true servant, but Jesus is incomparably greater.

This leads to the next major warning (3.7—4.13), which comes in the form of an exegesis of Psalm 95. The psalm warns against copying the Israelites of the wilderness generation, who rebelled and were not allowed to enter the promised land (3.7–12). The writer’s point is subtle: the psalm speaks to David’s generation about still ‘not entering’ the coming ‘rest’, which must mean that the psalm was envisaging a ‘rest’ for which the entry into the land was just a foretaste. Scripture itself therefore points to a fulfilment out beyond what Moses had been promising. The readers are then to see themselves as like that generation, on a pilgrimage towards God’s promised future, and they must not make the same mistake.

All these themes are then focused on Jesus as the great high priest. Here, too, the underlying point is the same: that scripture itself points ahead to a new dispensation when the present system will give way to that for which it was meant all along as a foretaste. (Here and throughout, we should avoid any suggestion that the Old Testament and its ‘religion’ or ‘theology’ was somehow ‘bad’ and that the Christian dispensation is somehow a ‘replacement’. The author is stressing that Israel’s scriptures always looked ahead and saw the key elements of Israel’s life as forward-looking signposts, recognizing that when you arrive at your destination you don’t need the signposts any more, not because they were bad but because they have done their job.)

Anyway, the point here is that Jesus, having died and been raised from the dead, was then exalted in the ascension to the very throne of the father in order that he might continue to implement the work he had accomplished on earth; and that the role he is thereby taking is that of the true high priest. This priest was and still is one of us. He can sympathize with our weaknesses . . . . In Jesus we have a champion over death and a victor over sin, who enables us to approach the throne of God with confidence to receive the grace and mercy that we need (4.14–16).

Jesus, however, is no ordinary priest. The Levitical priests were selected from the people to bring gifts and sacrifices to God for the forgiveness of sins. They had a pastoral role in looking after the people and sympathizing with them. But the priests were themselves weak and sinful, and so had to offer sacrifices for the people’s sins and also for their own. Jesus, however, can sympathize, but not because he is a sinner. He belongs to a different order of priesthood, itself explicitly foretold in scripture, and can thereby do all that Levitical priests can do, only better (5.1–3).

Again, the author stresses Jesus’ own human experience, wrestling in agony with his vocation while remaining obedient to his father’s will (5.7–8). His perfection as the ‘son’ meant that his death became a source of eternal salvation for those who obey him. He has thus become a priest in this new Melchizedekian order (5.9–10).

Hebrews then makes its way back to Melchizedek, who features in the story of Abraham, by referring back to God’s sure and certain promises to Abraham himself (Gen. 22.17). We, the heirs of those promises, may be encouraged by the fact that Jesus has himself guaranteed them by entering into the inner sanctuary of God’s presence on our behalf (6.17–20). He is there for us like an ‘anchor’: if we are firmly fastened to him, we are already secure. He is, after all, the promised priest ‘after the order of Melchizedek’ (6.19–20). With this, we have rejoined the argument that broke off at 5.10.

4. Jesus’ priesthood and the new covenant (7.1—10.18)
   The author then explains. Once again the underlying argument is that Israel’s scriptures themselves indicate that they are pointing ahead to something beyond themselves. In this case, they point to a priesthood which is both more ancient and more long-lasting than the Aaronic line. Psalm 110.4 indicates that the coming Davidic king will be a priest in the order of Melchizedek, thus solving at a stroke a puzzle over which other Jews of the period puzzled: could a coming Messiah be both a priest and a king? The writer is drawing on Genesis 14.18–20, the account of how Melchizedek blessed Abraham, and Abraham in turn gave Melchizedek a tenth of the plunder from his conquest of the pagan kings. Hebrews explores Melchizedek a bit further: his name means ‘king of righteousness’; he was also ‘king of Salem’ (that is, pre-Israelite Jerusalem), which means ‘king of peace’; he was a ‘priest of God Most High’ (Gen. 14.18), and his priesthood did not depend on genealogy (7.3) (see ‘Portals and parallels: the Dead Sea Scrolls on Melchizedek’). In all these respects he looks forward to the Messiah, whose priesthood is thus superior to that of the house of Levi. There are, then, scriptural grounds for seeing Jesus as superior to the ongoing line of Jewish priests (7.11–19). It isn’t that the old dispensation was bad. It was pointing forwards. The new dispensation is even better than what went before. Jesus is a priest for ever, not only for the span of an earthly life; so he is always there to intercede for his people (7.20–25).

A priest like this is obviously different. He is set apart from sinners, holy and blameless, so he can intercede for them. He does not offer one sacrifice after another; instead he offered himself as an atonement for sins, once and for all. The law appointed human priests with inherent weakness, but the oath appointed the son who has been made perfect for ever (7.26–28).

The author sums up the argument thus far and points to the crucial result (8.1–6): a change in priesthood means a change in covenant—and, once again, this is predicted in scripture itself. It turns out that the tabernacle in the wilderness (to which the author refers throughout, rather than the Jerusalem Temple which may in his day have been regarded as corrupt beyond repair) is a copy of the true tabernacle, the dwelling of God in heaven; and that is where Jesus has gone to exercise his perpetual priesthood (8.1–6). The Levitical priests, then, offer sacrifices according to the law, in a sanctuary that is a copy or shadow of the heavenly one. By entering heaven Jesus has a superior ministry, acting as the mediator of the long-promised ‘better covenant’ established on ‘better promises’.

The prophet explains the nature of this new covenant: (1) it will include a reunited Israel; (2) it will endure because the people will remain steadfast; (3) God will write his law in their minds and hearts; (4) they will know God in a new depth of spiritual intimacy; and (5) God will be merciful to the people and remember their sins no more. This new covenant will render the old one obsolete (8.7–13).

How all this relates to the new covenant is then explained. First, the fact that there was no free and unhindered access to God implies that the holy spirit was showing that the way into the most holy place had not been disclosed while the old tabernacle was still operational. Second, the gifts and offerings are really a ‘picture’ or ‘parable’, unable to cleanse the conscience, merely a matter of external appearances until the new order of things is put into proper effect (9.8–10).

In a further contrast, the death of Jesus Christ provided a permanent and complete atonement for sin because he entered the heavenly sanctuary with the offering of his own blood, which secures eternal redemption (9.12). The author is leading readers to the heart of the deep mystery which Jesus’ death involves. As the representative human being (Heb. 2) and the appointed high priest (Heb. 7), Jesus can provide what the old order of sacrifices could only point to: redemption and cleansing.

The whole point of the sacrificial system was never, after all, about animals being killed by way of vicarious punishment . . .

The point was not to punish people’s sins so that they could enter God’s presence, but to cleanse every trace of sin and death from the people and the sanctuary so that God could come to dwell with them. The sacrificial blood acted as the cleansing, purifying agent so that the stain of death, and the sin which leads to it, would not compel God to absent himself. In the same way, the point here is not to enable people to come into God’s presence (though from our point of view that appears part of it) but to enable the living God to dwell in us and with us.

All this is vital as the author returns to the topic of ‘covenant’, explaining what is ‘new’ about the ‘new covenant’ (9.15–28). Jesus’ death makes him the ‘mediator of a new covenant’ bringing a ‘promised inheritance of the age to come’: in him, earth and heaven are finally joined together as he, in his fully human body, enters the heavenly sanctuary on our behalf.

5. A call to faithfulness and endurance (10.19—12.29)
   The writer turns from expounding the new covenant to exhorting his readers to worship and perseverance. . . .

Celebration, though, gives way to admonition, with the fourth major warning-passage in the letter. To spurn this new covenant—to turn away deliberately from what has now been done by the Messiah—means that there is no further sacrifice for sin. Rather, what remains is the prospect of judgment and a consuming fire for those who oppose God (10.26–29). Faced with the temptation for Jewish Jesus-followers to retreat into the (supposed) security of the Jewish community that has rejected the gospel, the author warns that to have come close to genuine and lasting Christian faith and worship, and then to reject it, can only mean condemnation.

The greatest encouragement comes from knowing that one stands in a long line of people who have faced similar challenges and met the test. Many ancient Jewish writers told the story of Israel by highlighting specific moments and individuals and locating their own hearers at the end of the narrative.

The early Christians often did this with Jesus himself as the climax, and his followers were then incorporated into the renewed story that would follow—as, for instance, with the genealogies in Matthew 1 or Luke 3 or the speech of Stephen in Acts 7.19 Hebrews 11 fits into this pattern, with the highlighted theme this time being the ‘faith’ which marked out one person after another, a faith that was focused on reaching out in hope for God’s future. Faith here is, then, an assurance in hope and a conviction about things not yet seen (11.1); this might seem to be questioned when the first example is about the world being made by God’s word (11.3), but the point here too is God’s sovereign ability to create new things not yet seen.

BLAST FROM THE PAST: ORIGEN ON APOSTASY
The Alexandrian theologian Origen (c. AD 184–253) made this comment on John 11:

Now we ought to be aware that there are some Lazaruses even now who, after having become friends of Jesus, have become sick and died. As dead persons they have remained in the tomb and the land of the dead with the dead . . . Consider the one who has fallen away from Christ and returned to the Gentiles’ life after he has received knowledge of the Truth. He has been enlightened and tasted the heavenly gift and become a partaker of the Holy Spirit . . . yet now is in hades with the shades and the dead and to be in the land of the dead or the tombs. Whenever, therefore, on behalf of such persons, Jesus comes to his tomb and, standing outside it, prays and is heard, he asks that there be power in his voice and words, and he cries out with a loud voice to summon him who was his friend to the things outside the life of the Gentiles and their tomb and cave. (Origen Comm. Jn. 28.54–6, cited in Heen and Krey 2005, 87)

There then follows a list of witnesses to authentic faith, from Abel and Noah, through Abraham and Sarah, to the other patriarchs and Moses, to monarchs, prophets and martyrs (Heb. 11.4–38). All of them were looking and waiting for the ultimate promised reality for which the ‘promised land’ was just a foretaste: the ‘better resurrection’ (11.35) that would mean not simply a return to present existence but a going forward, like the Messiah himself, into the new heaven-and-earth reality of an utterly transformed new creation (12.1–3). All these heroes and heroines of faith were out of tune with the rest of the world, pointing ahead to the fact that the God who had made the world was intending to remake it. God has promised something ‘better for us’, declares the writer, so that believers both ancient and contemporary would reach perfection together (11.39–40). In this light, the members of his audience are invited to see themselves as part of the list of wonderful witnesses to God’s promises, and as people who stand even closer than they to the city of God.

The final example of faith and perseverance is the human being Jesus of Nazareth himself, whose personal struggles have already been described in terms every bit as vivid as anything in the four gospels (2.14–18; 4.14—5.10). All the other models of faith are like crowds cheering us on as we run a race, but Jesus himself stands at the finishing line (12.1–3). We must leave behind the sin that weighs us down, so that like Jesus we may not give up but finish the course . . .

The final great contrast in a letter of contrasts (Moses and Jesus, Levitical priesthood and Melchizedek, old and new covenant, and so on) is the contrast between Sinai, where the law was given, and the heavenly Jerusalem, the ultimate city of God in which Jesus-believers are already citizens. This is the city that cannot be shaken (12.27), and to reflect on it is to have one’s resolve stiffened and one’s heart warmed for gratitude and worship (12.28).

The quotes and all the material within this post are taken directly from “The New Testament In Its World” by NT Wright and Mike Bird, Zondervan and SPCK.
The New Testament in Its World
An Introduction to the History, Literature, and Theology of the First Christians
N. T. Wright (Author) , Michael F. Bird (Author) Page Count:992
Format:Hardcover, Cloth
ISBN:9780310499305
Release:November 19, 2019