We now come to the book of Hebrews. Analysis of Hebrews is complicated by a number of factors. We’ll note two. First, the author of Hebrews is the master of mixed-metaphors. We don’t just find one or two types of christology in Hebrews. Whereas with Paul, wisdom christology and Adam christology are the two predominant ones, in Hebrews, any and every possible metaphor is utilized in service of identifying Christ. Christ is wisdom manifest. He is the new Adam—the representative man. He is the ideal king. He is the immortal high priest “in the order of Melchizedek.” He is at once the perfect priest, and the perfect sacrifice. In Hebrews, Christ is an amalgam of virtually every good metaphor out there. His portrait is comprised of a thousand miniature portraits which when added together image Jesus. Christ is the consummation of every conceivable aspect of Jewish tradition. He is Adam. He is Moses. He is Joshua. He is Melchizedek. He is David. He is the righteous judge, and the bold pioneer. The diversity and scope of this portrait of Jesus attests to the late stage of christological reflection that it represents.

Second, analysis of the book of Hebrews is further complicated by its platonic idealism. As we saw with Philo in our Logos post, the author of the book of Hebrews sees the world in terms of shadows/copies juxtaposed with the ideal real. This pseudo-platonic pattern is pervasive throughout Hebrews. Some strong examples: The temple sanctuary is a “copy and shadow of what is in heaven,” the ideal reality (8:5). The law of Moses was only a “shadow” of what lies ahead in Christ, the laws being “not the realities themselves” (10:1). Moreover, like Philo (the Jewish Platonist), the author of Hebrews (probably a diaspora Jewish Christian) sees Melchizedek as a figure of the Logos who mediates between God and humankind. We recall this passage from our earlier discussion of the Logos:

But Melchizedek shall bring forward wine instead of water, and shall give your souls to drink, and shall cheer them with unmixed wine, in order that they may be wholly occupied with a divine intoxication, more sober than sobriety itself. For the Logos is a priest, having as its inheritance the true God, and entertaining lofty and sublime and magnificent ideas about him, “for he is the priest of the most high God” [Gen 14:18]. (Philo, Allegorical Interpretation, 3:82)

The author of Hebrews, who earlier (ch. 1) identified Jesus as a Logos type figure according to Philo’s schema, also interprets Jesus as a Melchizedekian figure, an immortal and ideal priest, as opposed to the shadow priesthood in the line of Aaron (ch. 7).

As we begin our examination of the first chapter of Hebrews, we will do well to keep these two things in mind. (1) The portrait of Jesus in Hebrews is composite, drawing on a number of types and metaphors. (2) The schema in the book of Hebrews is Platonic, and bears some strong resemblances to the ruminations of Philo. With these two things in mind, we will be better equipped to properly understand the exalted language used to describe Jesus throughout the first chapter of Hebrews. We will break up the first chapter into manageable sections, interspersed with commentary.

Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom he also created the worlds. He is the reflection of God’s glory and the image of God’s being, and he sustains all things by the declaration of his power. When he had made purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, having become as much superior to angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs.

Here Jesus is first identified as “a son.” We may understand this either as a platonic Logos christology, an Adam christology, or a royal christology. The designation of “sonship” has ample precedent in all three tropes, and, as we will see, all three tropes will recur throughout the chapter. It is probable that the writer did not have any one particular of these tropes in mind, but wished his language to remain allusive.

“A Son whom he appointed heir of all things.” This language reflects an Adam typology. Just as God created Adam and gave him dominion over all creation (and, according to second temple tradition, dominion over the angels), so now, Jesus has been named heir of all things. The dominion over all things that was forfeited by Adam has been recaptured by a new Son, whom God has appointed.

“Through whom he also created the worlds.” As we have seen, this is the language of a wisdom christology. See our discussion of this trope in post #09 (Wisdom) and post #11 (John 1) for more detailed argumentation. We may just note here in summary: (1) this is the language of agency (the worlds were not created by the Son, but through him); (2) this does not imply the Son’s eternality, for as we have seen, every agent of creation identified in the literature has been described as the first created being, as Christ is explicitly in Col 1:15; (3) the language is most likely metaphorical, because the language of Wisdom personified as agent in creation is everywhere else metaphorical, not intending to identify the agent as a real person; here, therefore, the language of the worlds having been created through the Son is a way of expressing the belief that everything for which the world was created has now come to culmination in Christ, who reveals the eternal divine purpose through his actions. As an addendum, we may note however that because of the debt to Platonism evident in Hebrews, it is possible that the author envisions a real preexistent being, identified with Jesus. Nevertheless, as we have seen, preexistence does not imply deity, nor does agency in creation. For Philo, who arguably understood the Logos as a real being, we recall that the Logos was nevertheless sharply distinguished from God, despite the proximity to God enjoyed by the Logos.

“He is the reflection of God’s glory and the image of God’s being.” This may be understood as Adam christology or as Logos christology. We recall that Adam was said to have been “created in the image of God.” We also recall Philo’s understanding that the Logos is the “image of God” after which Adam was made (Adam being the copy of the copy). To reflect God’s glory implies agency, not divinity, as we recall with Moses, who after coming down from the mountain was said to have literally reflected God’s glory. Being the “reflection of God’s glory” says something about the agent’s proximity to God: it is emphatically the description of a mediator figure.

“He sustains all things by the declaration of his power.” Here we see another facet of the wisdom tradition. Wisdom was often said to bind all things together, to sustain everything. God is also said to sustain all things by his word, and here there is much overlap with the wisdom tradition. The application of this language to Jesus indicates that Jesus is the chosen instrument of God’s rule. As the bearer of the name of God (recall our discussion in post #6), Jesus is the bearer of God’s power over creation. We see this sort of claim displayed in the gospels with the nature miracles. This claim does not constitute an ascription of unique divinity to Jesus, but an ascription of unique agency.

“He sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high.” This, as we have seen at numerous points throughout our series, is the language of messianic agency. Being seated at the right hand of God indicates authority by conference, preeminence by election, and as we have seen in 1 Cor 15:28, is often envisioned as temporary. Whether it is understood as a temporary or eternal position by the author of Hebrews is not clear. It is clear that Jesus’ status as high priest and mediator is understood as eternal, and that his reign is everlasting, but this could mean a number of things, and it does not imply that it is everlasting in both directions. In fact, in numerous places in Hebrews (as in Phil 2:6-11), it seems to be the case that Christ’s authority is something that was granted to him as a result of his having earned it—as representative human.

“Having become as much superior to angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs.” As we will see, and as the author of Hebrews makes abundantly clear, superiority to angels does not imply deity, but in fact is a strong statement about redeemed humanity. “The name” that Christ has “inherited” is the divine name, an “inheritance” he has earned by proving to be the Son. This again is a statement about redeemed humanity. Where Adam failed to be God’s son, Jesus has succeeded, and has therefore inherited the name of his Father.

For to which of the angels did God ever say,
“You are my Son; today I have begotten you”?
Or again, “I will be his Father, and he will be my Son”?
And again, when he brings the firstborn into the world, he says,
“Let all God’s angels worship him.”

Note here that “superiority to angels” is defined specifically in terms of royalty. It is in each case human agents who are the recipients of the designation “son.” The first quotation is from Psalm 2, a coronation psalm, and refers to the king’s adoption by God on the day of his enthronement. The second quotation applies to David’s son and successor to the throne, Solomon (2 Sam 7:14; 1 Chron 17:13).

“Let all God’s angels worship him.” This quotation from Deut 32:43 has been the source of much consternation for interpreters. The Masoretic Text omits this line altogether. In the Septuagint, the clear recipient of worship is God. But this makes the author of Hebrews’ introduction to the quotation awkward. It says that when God brings his firstborn into the world, God says, “let all God’s angels worship him.” Obviously, to the author of Hebrews, God is calling upon his angels to worship his firstborn son. The Dead Sea Scrolls clear the matter up for us. 4QDeut reads:

Praise his people, O heavens
And worship him, all gods

In the first line, the heavens are called upon to praise Israel. In the second line, the gods are invoked to “worship him.” Reading this as parallelism, it is clear that praise=worship and his people=him (i.e., Israel, the “firstborn”). This reading is corroborated by the fact that Israel is identified as the “firstborn” of God in Exod 4:22 (“This is what Yahweh says: Israel is my firstborn son”). The author of Hebrews is presumably interpreting his LXX text in light of this earlier textual tradition preserved in 4QDeut, and connects “firstborn” as “Israel” with “firstborn” as “king” via Psalm 89:27 (“I will appoint him the firstborn, the highest of the kings of the earth”). This is the only way to make sense of the quotation as introduced by the writer in this context. What it amounts to is a parallel claim to those that precede and follow it, namely, that Jesus is the ideal king, the righteous representative of Israel, God’s chosen people. As we have seen in post #05 (Worship), the call to “worship” (or to prostrate oneself) before God’s king or agent is not incompatible with exclusive allegiance to Yahweh. (Recall also our discussion in post #05 where we saw that God enjoined the angels to worship both Moses and Adam, in different traditions.) Therefore, this is easily dismissed as an ascription of deity to Jesus. The next passage at first glance would seem like more of a challenge to our thesis:

Of the angels he says,
“He makes his angels winds,
and his servants flames of fire.”
But of the Son he says,
“Your throne, O God, is forever and ever,
and the righteous scepter is the scepter of your kingdom.
You have loved righteousness and hated wickedness;
therefore God, your God, has anointed you
with the oil of gladness beyond your companions.”

But we have already dealt with this passage (from Psalm 45) in post #07 (Oh My God!). Refer to that post for detailed explanation, but what we have here is nothing more than the ascription of the title “God” to a human agent, in this case, the ideal king, who being obedient to God is deemed worthy of the title Elohim. The author of Hebrews clearly understands this, because he includes this passage in a long string of royal/messianic quotations. What we have here is a further elaboration of the theme that Jesus is the ideal king, in other words, the representative man.

And, “In the beginning, Lord, you founded the earth,
and the heavens are the work of your hands;
they will perish, but you remain;
they will all wear out like clothing;
like a cloak you will roll them up,
and like clothing they will be changed.
But you are the same,
and your years will never end.”

This quotation is somewhat complicated. It comes from Psalm 102:25-27. In the Masoretic Text it is clear that the one being addressed is Yahweh (although the name Yahweh does not appear in vv. 25-27 as its euphemistic counterpart Kyrie—“Lord”—does in the LXX), and it is clear that Yahweh is being addressed by a human king. So if we are to follow the reading in the MT, it would appear that the author of Hebrews is saying that Jesus is being addressed as (Yahweh) Lord, or at least that a text originally about Yahweh is now being applied to Jesus. Now, if this were the whole story, this would still not be an ascription to Jesus of unique deity. Applying texts about Yahweh to the Messiah is not something we only see in the New Testament. In both the Similitudes of Enoch and in 4 Ezra, there are a handful of instances in which texts about Yahweh are reapplied to the Messiah, but in both cases it is clear that this does not constitute a claim that the Messiah is therefore Yahweh. It simply displays agency in a powerful way. However, that said, this is not the whole story.

We know from the wording of Hebrews (here and throughout) that the author is dependent not upon the MT but upon the (Greek) Septuagint. In the Septuagint, something interesting occurs in v. 23, just prior to the quotation found in Hebrews 1:10-12. The Septuagint mistranslates the Hebrew, with the result that an additional figure is added to the mix.

He has broken my strength in mid-course;
he has shortened my days. (Masoretic Text)

He answered him in the way of his strength:
Tell me the fewness of my days. (Septuagint)

In the MT, it is clear that the king is beseeching God not to make his reign short, but to give him a long reign. He then breaks into praise of God, and that is where the quotation in Heb 1:10 picks up. In the LXX, however, it is possible to read vv. 25-27 as God’s response to the king. On this reading, the king asks God to tell him how long his kingdom will be established, and God responds by telling him that his kingdom will endure forever. Here, God calls the king “Lord,” and ascribes to the king wisdom language (“In the beginning you laid the foundation of the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands.”). On this reading, God is ascribing the characteristics of wisdom to the king, as seen similarly in Wis. Sol. 9, as part of his promise that his line will be established forever. The language of a particular king’s throne enduring “forever” is of course pervasive throughout the Hebrew bible, and is hyperbolic.

Another element in this text may also have prompted this reading in the mind of the author of Hebrews. Verse 18 of the psalm says, “Let this be recorded for another generation.” As strange as this practice may appear to us moderns, in this period it was common for phrases like this to be picked out by interpreters as cues to look for a hidden eschatological or messianic message in the text. Therefore, it is possible that the author of Hebrews picked up on these “cues,” and took this quotation to be a messianic text, in which God promises the messiah an eternal reign, and confers upon him the language of personified wisdom. This is of course not the original meaning of the text, but apocalyptic exegesis like this was not concerned with the “outer, surface” meaning of the text, so much as the “hidden mysteries” which were always related to some aspect of eschatology or messianism—the latter days in sum. This form of exegesis was widespread throughout this period, and was not at all unique to Christians. It was pioneered by the Essenes at Qumran, a group of ascetic apocalypticists with whom early Christians had a wide variety of characteristics in common.

As tenuous as this reading of the text appears to us, I think it is most probable that this is the reading the author of Hebrews took, precisely because it appears in a long line of quotations in which God is speaking to a royal or messianic figure. For the author to break ranks here and include a quotation he understood as reflecting a king speaking to God would be most incongruous with the flow of thought. But the reading of the psalm we have offered, based on the mistranslation in the Septuagintal text, despite its historical-grammatical problems, fits the flow of thought here best. In each case, God is conferring titles upon a royal figure. This reading would cohere with that pattern, a pattern which is in fact continued in the next and final quotation of chapter 1:

To which of the angels has he ever said,
“Sit at my right hand
until I make your enemies
a footstool for your feet”?
Are not all angels spirits in the divine service,
sent to serve for the sake of those who are to inherit salvation?

This quotation is another example of a royal psalm which came to be interpreted as messianic. Once again, God speaks to the royal figure and confers upon him some sort of authority. Here it is the privilege to sit at God’s right hand, and the promise that his enemies will be brought into subjection to his throne. This is of course Psalm 110, the most quoted psalm in the New Testament.¹ It completes the series of quotations in which God confers authority upon a human king or agent, and each of these quotations is meant to display that angels have never been granted this kind of authority. In chapter one, the author of Hebrews presents Jesus as the ideal king, the righteous representative man. But the argument is not complete. Its implications are spelled out in chapter two:

Now God did not subject the coming world, about which we are speaking, to angels. But someone has testified somewhere,

“What are human beings that you are mindful of them,
or mortals, that you care for them?
You have made them for a little while lower than the angels;
you have crowned them with glory and honor,
subjecting all things under their feet.”

Now in subjecting all things to them, God left nothing outside their control. As it is, we do not yet see everything in subjection to them, but we do see Jesus, who for a little while was made lower than the angels, now crowned with glory and honor because of the suffering of death, so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone. (Heb 2:5-9)

The author says that the coming world will no longer be subjected to angels. According to the author, human beings were created with the intention that all things would be subjected under their feet, but (the implication is) because of Adam’s sin, human beings have been subjected to the control of angels “for a little while.” The author indicates that God’s intention is for all things (including angels) to subjected to the human race. According to the author, God intends to leave “nothing outside the control” of human beings. As it is right now, not everything has been brought into subjection to human beings. In other words, angels still rule over humankind. But, the author says, Jesus has gone on ahead of his race as their representative. Like his fellow humans, he too was made, for a little while, lower than the angels. But because of his obedience (in counterdistinction to the disobedience of Adam), Jesus has been elevated above the angels, pioneering the path for the rest of humanity to follow, as representative human/ideal king.

It was fitting that God, for whom and through whom all things exist, in bringing many children to glory, should make the pioneer of their salvation perfect through sufferings. For the one who sanctifies and those who are sanctified all have one Father. For this reason Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters, saying,

“I will proclaim your name to my brothers and sisters,
in the midst of the congregation I will praise you.”
And again,
“I will put my trust in him.”
And again,
“Here am I and the children whom God has given me.”
(Heb 2:10-13)

Here the implications of chapter one are abundantly clear. Because of Jesus’ obedience and righteousness, he has made it possible for humankind to be restored to their original glory as children of God. The relationship that Jesus possessed as God’s unique Son is now made available to all who follow the path he trailblazed,² so that God is no longer just the Father of Jesus, but of many sons and daughters, whom Jesus identifies as his brothers and sisters. Note also that Jesus clearly distinguishes himself from God: Jesus offers praise to God, and God has given Jesus “children,” as a king is the father of a nation. Later, it is said that a high priest “does not presume to take this honor, but takes it only when called by God, just as Aaron was. So also Christ did not glorify himself in becoming a high priest, but was appointed” by God (Heb 5:4-5).

To conclude our discussion of Hebrews 1, then, we simply reiterate that the author is the master of mixed metaphor. The portrait he paints of Jesus is a composite one, drawing from as many images, types and figures as a well educated diaspora Jew could muster onto a single scroll. Although the author begins with some hints at a wisdom christology, it is the Adam christology that dominates the first two chapters. The highly exalted language of chapter one, we have shown, when read in the context of the literature of this period, does not ascribe deity to Christ, but rather paints a powerful portrait of the ideal king, the representative human being, who through his righteousness and obedience has made it possible for humankind to be restored to its original dignity as preeminent creature over all creation, over even the angels who, though presently in power, will soon be restored to their inferior status as servants of God’s very own children—humankind.

1. It begins, “The LORD says to my lord, ‘Sit at my right hand. . .’” Because this psalm was attributed in the superscription to David, it was assumed that David himself wrote the psalm. Jesus displays this understanding of the psalm’s authorship, when he capitalizes on this opening line. If David wrote the psalm, then David was referring to some other human figure as “my lord.” If this is the case, then someone greater than David is envisioned, and in the Gospel, Jesus identifies himself as the one “greater than David.” Now, Christian apologists have often used this as further “evidence” for Jesus’ divinity, but it claims no such thing. To be greater than David does not make Jesus divine. It makes Jesus the eschatological king, whose greatness exceeds David’s because of his role at the climax of the drama of redemption. That said, Jesus’ whole argument, though potentially persuasive to those who shared his assumptions about the psalm’s authorship, is undermined by the fact that this psalm was most likely written by a psalmist about a king, perhaps about David himself. The ascription of the Psalm to David in the superscription is not original to the psalm itself, but was added later, and it did not necessarily mean that the psalm was written by David, but just that it was about David, and was therefore grouped with the Davidic psalms. With this in view, “The LORD says to my lord” just means that the anonymous psalmist is relaying what Yahweh said to his king. [BACK]
2. The ethical implications of this are spelled out most clearly in chapters 11 and 12. [BACK]