One of the most difficult things in the world is to attempt to project oneself into the lives of those who are the products of a culture other than his own. The understanding of and sympathy for other people depends to a large extent on a person's ability to bridge the chasm of differing circumstances. Almost every missionary family experiences initial culture shock. Sometimes this is so great that it is impossible for them to continue sharing in the strange environment and in the life-style it has generated.
If the establishment of communication is so difficult between those who live at the same time in history, it is infinitely more so when twenty centuries separate them. I seriously doubt that the modern Jew living in a penthouse apartment in New York City can even begin to understand the Jews of Jesus' day. How much less can those of us who are non-Jews develop a "Jewish mind" and share in the ideas, longings, and aspirations of "the circumcised" to whom some of the Biblical letters were addressed.
As much as possible, we must place the letters back in the setting in which the writers and recipients lived. We must try to fathom what the citizens of Thessalonica, a colony of mustered-out soldiers from the army of Augustus Caesar, thought when they read what Paul wrote. We must strive to understand what Timothy understood when the first letter was handed to him in Ephesus. We must ask what flashed through the mind of Titus when he perused his letter on the isle of Crete. That is not easy. Living words, like living people, are always growing and changing. It is hard to go back even forty years in time and grasp your own feelings as a child.
One of the most difficult tasks of an interpreter of Scripture must be to reproduce the reasoning that guided the Jewish community of two thousand years ago. Today there is a great understanding gap between ourselves and some of our neighbors in the same apartment complex. To many of us, our Jewish friends who ride the same elevator are like people from another continent. When we pick up a newspaper bearing the title Jewish Light or Jewish Star, even though printed in English, it is filled with words that convey little to us. Most of us never have visited a Reformed Jewish Temple for the first Sabbath service on Friday evening. Hardly any of us ever have been to an Orthodox synagogue.
All of this means that we frequently read the letter to the Hebrews, forgetting to whom it was written and the purpose for which it was written. Thus our comments are sometimes shallow and superficial. Sometimes our applications are so farfetched that they actually do more harm than good.
The letter to the Hebrews grew out of a real life situation. It was written to meet a grave and present emergency. It was an honest attempt to keep Jews, who had accepted Jesus as the Messiah, from regression into Judaism. Because of the Jews' reverence for the prophets, whose writings were solemnly read every week in the synagogue, the writer asserts that the final revelation of God is His Son. Because of their preoccupation with angels, even though some of it was superstitious, the writer affirms that the Son is seven ways better than angels. He then makes a little digression to show the nature of the communication of God "in these last days," exhorting the readers not to neglect it.
Having done this, he reverts at once to his reasoning about the relative position of angels. "For unto the angels hath he not put in subjection the world to come, whereof we speak" (2:5). Now, a great many expositors think of "the world to come" as a reference to the state of things after the coming of Jesus in the clouds, the culmination of the present order. Certainly if the letter had been written to us in the twentieth century, that would be a logical conclusion. But it was not written to us. It was written to first-century Palestinian Jews, steeped in all the lore and tradition of the Jewish thinking of that time.
The expression, "the world to come," had a special significance in that thinking. The Jews had developed a complex explanation for the state and fate of the world. So elaborate was it that time would fail us to detail it. There were many and varied versions so that, to the uninitiated looking back upon it, there seemed to be much confusion. Yet there was an optimistic thread running through all of the ramifications growing out of the discussions of the rabbis. This brought hope to the persecuted and disconsolate masses, who were downtrodden and often exiled by cruel conquerors.
The advent of the Messiah would usher in a "golden age." His coming would be "the day of the Lord," or "the great day." The prophets had freely predicted it. Joel had written about "the day of the Lord...in the valley of decision" (3:14). That day would be ushered in with the blowing of a great trumpet. Natural phenomena would be a sign to the heathen. The sun would be darkened, the moon would turn to blood, and the stars would refuse to shine. The Messiah would be the hope of His people.
According to the Midrash, all circumcised Israel would be released from Gehenna. The Jews in Palestine would be raised from the dead, while those of Israel who had been buried elsewhere would have to roll under the ground until they reached the holy soil, whereupon they would also come forth. Jehovah would establish His kingdom upon the earth. Jerusalem would be the capital of the world. The law of the Lord would issue forth from Zion, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. The Messiah would sit upon the throne of David. Peace would settle over the earth for a thousand years. Every tree would bear an abundance of fruit, and every man would sit under the shadow of his own vine and fig tree.
During the thousand-year reign, the representatives of all nations would come to Jerusalem. Presents and tribute would be brought in honor of the majesty of the King. Commerce would flow unhampered through the world, with customs due and cheerfully remitted to the great King. Ten men, speaking varied languages would take hold of the garment of Jesus walking down the street and say, "We will go with you: for we have heard that God is with you" (Zechariah 8:23).
In contrast with the time of hardship then being endured, this golden age was referred to as Olam habba, "the world to come." Ushered in by "the great day of the Lord," it would be a time when God would visit His people and punish His enemies. It was to be a "day of visitation." Woven into the mental picture was a great deal of fantasy, and the concept of the Messiah was shaped by a considerable amount of mythical speculation. But He was to be a world conqueror, treading the winepress of God's wrath, trampling His enemies underfoot. He would rule until the last enemy was destroyed, and universal tranquillity bathed the earth, through the intervention of the God of Israel.
Jesus did not fit the image conjured up by the rabbis. His claim to be the Son of God seemed like blasphemy. His disavowal of Jerusalem as the place where men would worship the Father seemed a denial of what the prophets had spoken about all nations flowing into the holy city. His utter selflessness and lack of political ambition were incongruous for a world conqueror. The Jewish masses were not concerned about throwing off the yoke of sin as they were about ridding themselves of the yoke of the Caesars. It seemed no real loss, therefore, when Jesus perished on a Roman cross.
THE TIME HAS COME
Now, the writer to the Hebrews had the task of convincing these Jews
that "the age to come" had come. The Roman army still policed the world. Jerusalem was still an
occupied city, but the kingdom of Heaven was a reality. The Messiah had been rejected when He
came to His own.
"He came unto his own, and his own received him not." They had consented to His death, but He
had risen from the dead. He was even now seated at the right hand of God. All authority had
been given to Him in Heaven and on earth. The "present evil world" was doomed. The Messianic
reign was a reality. It was invisible, but would be made visible by His revelation.
The world is not under the angels. They do not have lordship or dominion. So the writer could say, "For unto the angels hath he not put in subjection the world to come, whereof we speak" (Hebrews 2:5). Then he interjects a quotation, and this has caused some consternation among commentators. Many agree with William Barclay that it is "by no means an easy passage of which to grasp the meaning." The author of the letter was addressing men who were familiar with the Scriptures of old. He did not consider it necessary to identify the source of the quotation, either as to author or place. His readers would immediately recognize both. Here is the quotation as he gave it:
"But one in a certain place testified, saying, What is man that thou art mindful of him? or the son of man, that thou visitest him? Thou madest him a little lower than the angels; thou crownedst him with glory and honour, and didst set him over the works of thy hands: thou hast put all things in subjection under his feet. For in that he put all in subjection under him, he left nothing that is not put under him. But now we see not yet all things put under him. But we see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels for the suffering of death, crowned with glory and honour; that he by the grace of God should taste death for every man" (2:6-9).
The one who testified was David. The "certain place" in which his testimony was given was Psalm 8:4-6. I do not regard this as a Messianic psalm. It is clear from reading it that the writer was talking about man as created by God. He was asking what there was about man to attract the attention or merit the visitation of God. The term "son of man" has no reference to Jesus, and would not have been so understood by David. It refers to the posterity or offspring of man, and throughout the Old Covenant Scriptures it is used as another term for man.
David answers his own questions addressed to God. The thing about man and his progeny that established a basis for divine interest was his nature. Man was created by God. He was given priority over all other material creation. He was made but slightly inferior to angels. He was invested with glory and honor not accorded any other creature. God set man over all the works of His hands. Whatever else was made was made for man's honor as well as God's. The flowers that bloomed, the trees bearing fruit, the birds of the air, the fish of the sea, the planets in their orbits, all were for man's enjoyment and benefit.
In one grand sweep of language the writer declares, "Thou has put all things in subjection under his feet." Every word of this sentence is dynamic. The entire system is by divine arrangement. The order of creation leads in a stately parade to the coming of man, and when the time of his advent arrived, his kingdom was ready and awaiting his sovereignty. Made of the dust of the ground, he still bore the image of God. He came forth from the lowly elements to become lord of all he surveyed. It was all by heavenly design.
It was not necessary for man to conquer his kingdom in order to rule over it. It was his by divine fiat. "Thou hast put"! God ordained it. Man's dominion was universal. All things were under his feet. There would be no doubt about the scope of it, for the statement is subjoined, "For in that he put all in subjection under him, he left nothing that is not put under him."
That was the ideal of God's purpose. It was the design of the infinite mind. But often there is a great gap between the ideal and stark reality. It was so in this case. In making man after the divine image, God gave him a will. His will is the determinant factor. The will enables one to make a choice. This was a magnificent risk, for God knew that man could choose to reject God's will. Man could say to God. "Not Thy will, but mine be done." And it happened! So the writer has to say, rather sadly we surmise, "But now we see not yet all things put under him." Alienation from God brought enemies not yet conquered. Man became a victim rather than a victor. He became a subject rather than a lord.
HOPE IN GOD
Yet there is hope! That hope lies with God, not with man. God did not
hate man, but loved him. He continued to love him, even after he shattered the eternal ideal. We
must notice that there are two sentences introduced with the word "but," and both are significant.
The first is a statement
of failure, the second a statement of faith. One has to do with human helplessness, the other with
divine hopefulness. "But now we see not yet all things put under him...But we see Jesus." The
"not yet" will find its fulfillment in Jesus. We go from the primal purpose to the rugged reality,
and on to the divine recovery. All that we lost through sin in Adam we will regain through
salvation in Jesus.
It is significant that the name "Jesus" appears here for the first time in the letter. The Hebrews would associate it immediately with salvation, for that is what the word means. It is almost as if, after painting the dark picture of man's failure, the writer says, "But we see salvation." That salvation is not a scheme, a code, a program, or a compilation of precepts. It is a Person who will make it possible for us to erase the realm of the "not yet," which frustrates and defeats us. The one who does not "see Jesus," who ignores or denies Him, or who forsakes Him to return to an inferior state, is forfeiting all hope of realizing God's purpose for man. Such a person never can be whole. He will always be shattered.
In the seventh verse it was affirmed that man was made a little lower than the angels. In the ninth verse it is affirmed that Jesus was made a little lower than the angels. Nothing else could quite so fully depict Jesus' sharing the lot of man. The route to glory, since the primal sin of man, is the road of suffering. Once man was ruler of the created universe in undisturbed bliss. There was no pain and no anguish. No tear flowed down his cheek. But with the coming of sin came also suffering and distress. Now Jesus shared our suffering to regain the glory that He surrendered, making it possible for us to share His glory by sharing His suffering.
God's grace became manifest because of man's involvement with sin. That grace knew no limitation. It was by His grace that the Son tasted death for every man. The word "taste" means "experience personally," or "become directly involved." Jesus took our burden. He assumed the load of our guilt. When we see Jesus, we see a sin-bearer, a deliverer! We can now become conquerors in Him. His righteousness regains for us what our own unrighteousness lost in Adam.