希伯來書講道集 第 15 章

Now the first covenant also had ordinances of divine service, and its earthly sanctuary.

For a tabernacle was prepared, the first, in which were the lampstand and the table and the setting forth of the loaves, which is called the Holy Place.

And after the second veil was the tabernacle which is called the Holy of Holies, having a golden altar of incense, and the ark of the covenant overlaid on every side with gold;

in which was a golden jar holding the manna, and Aaron's rod that budded, and the tablets of the covenant;

and above it the cherubim of glory, overshadowing the mercy seat;

concerning which things it is not now possible to speak in detail.

He has shown, from the priest, from the priesthood, from the covenant, that that former order was to have an end;

he now shows it also from the very fashion of the tabernacle.

How? By calling one the Holy Place, and the other the Holy of Holies.

Now the Holy Place is the symbol of the former age;

for there everything is done by means of sacrifices;

but the Holy of Holies is the symbol of this present time;

and he calls the Holy of Holies heaven, and the veil of heaven likewise, and the flesh entering within the veil—that is, through the veil of His flesh.

But it is well to take up this passage from the beginning and to speak of it.

What then does he say? 'Now the first covenant also had...'

What is 'ordinances'? Symbols, or statutes;

as if he were saying, Then it had them, now it has them not;

by this he shows that it has already given way.

So that now, even if it stands, it does not exist.

He calls it 'earthly,' since it was permitted to all to enter, and the place was open to view in the same house, where the priests stood, where the Jews, the proselytes, the Greeks, the Nazoraeans stood.

Since then it was accessible even to Greeks, he calls it earthly;

for surely the Jews were not the world.

'For a tabernacle,' he says, 'was prepared, the first, which is called the Holy Place;

in which were the lampstand and the table and the setting forth of the loaves.'

'And after the second veil.'

So then there was not one veil only, but there was also an outer veil.

'A tabernacle, which is called the Holy of Holies.'

See how everywhere he calls it a tabernacle, from the dwelling there.

'Having,' he says, 'a golden altar of incense, and the ark of the covenant overlaid on every side with gold.'

in which was a golden jar holding the manna, and the rod of Aaron that budded, and the tablets of the covenant.

All these things were solemn and splendid memorials of Jewish ingratitude.

And the tablets of the covenant.

And for this reason, in order to transmit the remembrance to their descendants, He commanded that it be laid up in the golden jar.

And the rod of Aaron that budded.

Since, then, the Jews were also ungrateful, and though continually benefited kept forgetting, for this reason, by the command of the lawgiver, they laid these things up in the golden jar, and thus transmitted the remembrance to their descendants.

And above it the cherubim of glory overshadowing the mercy-seat.

What is 'the cherubim of glory'? Either the glorious ones, he means, or those that are beneath God.

And he rightly extols these things in his discourse, that he may show that the things which came after them are greater.

Concerning which, he says, it is not now possible to speak in detail.

Here he hinted that these were not merely the things seen, but were certain enigmas.

Concerning which, he says, it is not now possible to speak in detail;

perhaps as requiring a lengthy discourse.

Now these things having been thus prepared, into the first tabernacle the priests enter continually, accomplishing the services.

That is, these things existed, but the Jews themselves did not enjoy the benefit of them;

so that they belonged not so much to those men as to those for whom they were prefigured.

But into the second the high priest alone enters once a year, not without blood, which he offers for himself and for the errors of the people.

Do you see now that the types were laid down beforehand? For lest they should say, 'How is there one sacrifice, and how did the high priest offer once,' he shows that it was so from the beginning;

seeing that the more holy place was one, and...

for even then, he says, the high priest offered once.

And well did he say, 'Not without blood';

not indeed without blood, yet not with this blood;

for the transaction was not of such magnitude.

He shows that it shall be, not consumed by fire, but rather displayed through blood.

For since he called the cross a sacrifice—one having neither fire nor wood, nor offered many times, but offered once in blood—

he shows that the ancient sacrifice also was of this kind: it was offered once in blood.

'Which he offers,' he says, 'for himself and for the errors of the people.'

He did not say 'sins,' but 'errors,' that they might not be highminded.

For even if you did not sin willingly, he says,

yet you erred unwillingly, and of this no one is pure.

And everywhere he adds the phrase 'for himself,' showing that Christ is far greater than the high priest among the Jews.

For if He is separated from our sins, how did He offer for Himself? Why then, one asks, did you say these things? Because this belongs to One who is superior.

And thereupon he goes on to contemplate and says:

The Holy Spirit signifying this, that the way into the holy places was not yet made manifest while the first tabernacle was yet standing.

For this reason, he says, these things have been thus prepared, that we may learn that the Holy of Holies—that is, heaven—is as yet untrodden.

Let us not, then, because we do not set foot in it, suppose that it does not even exist, since neither did we set foot in the holy places.

Which is a parable, he says, for the time then present.

What 'present time' does he mean? The time before the coming of Christ;

for after the coming of Christ it is no longer a present time;

for how could it be, when that which came after it has reached its end? And, indicating something else besides, he says this:

Which is a parable for the time then present;

that is, the type came into being.

According to which both gifts and sacrifices are offered, which cannot, as touching the conscience, make perfect the worshipper.

Do you see how clearly he has shown from this what is meant by 'The law made nothing perfect,' and by 'If that first had been faultless'? How so? As touching the conscience.

For the sacrifices did not put away the filth that is from the soul, but were still concerned with the body;

'For according to the law of a carnal commandment,' he says.

For indeed they could not put away adultery, nor murder, nor sacrilege.

Do you see—'Eat this, do not eat that'? Which are matters of indifference.

Only in meats and drinks and divers washings.

And yet concerning drink nothing had been ordained;

but making light of these things, he spoke thus:

And divers washings, and ordinances of the flesh, imposed until a time of reformation.

For this is the righteousness of the flesh.

Here he overthrows the sacrifices, showing that they had no power, and that they were until a time of reformation;

that is, they awaited the time that should set all things right.

But Christ having come, a high priest of the good things to come, through the greater and more perfect tabernacle, not made with hands.

And well did he say both 'greater' and 'more perfect,' seeing that God the Word, and the whole operation of the Spirit, dwells in it;

for 'God gives not the Spirit by measure.'

Or he calls it 'more perfect' inasmuch as it is also incomprehensible, and accomplishes greater things.

That is, not of this creation.

For it would not have been of the Spirit if a man had prepared it.

'Not of this creation,' he says; that is, not of these created things, but of a spiritual one;

for it was prepared of the Holy Spirit.

Do you see how he calls the body both a tabernacle and a veil and heaven? 'Through the greater and more perfect tabernacle,' he says;

then, 'Through the veil,' that is, of His flesh;

and again, 'Into that within the veil';

Entering into the Holy of Holies, to appear before the face of God.

For what reason, then, does he do this? Because he wishes to teach us that, under one signification after another, it is the same Word.

What I mean is this: the veil is heaven;

for just as the veil walls off the holy places, so also the flesh conceals the Godhead;

And in like manner the flesh is a tabernacle, having the Godhead within it;

and again, heaven too is a tabernacle;

for there within is the Priest.

'But Christ,' he says, 'being come a High Priest.'

He did not say 'having become,' but 'being come'—that is, having come for this very purpose, not having succeeded another in office;

He did not first come and then become, but at the same moment He came.

And he did not say, 'Being come a High Priest of things that are sacrificed,' but 'of the good things to come;'

as though language were not strong enough to set forth the whole.

'Nor yet by the blood,' he says, 'of goats and calves.'

All things are changed: 'but by His own blood,' he says, 'He entered in once for all into the holy places.'

Behold, it is heaven that he here called this.

'Once for all,' he says, 'He entered into the holy places, having obtained eternal redemption.'

And the word 'having obtained' belongs very much to things beyond hope and beyond expectation—how by a single entrance He obtained eternal redemption.

'For if the blood of bulls and of goats, and the ashes of a heifer sprinkling the unclean, sanctifies unto the cleanness of the flesh,'

'how much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered Himself without blemish unto God, cleanse your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?' For if, he says, the blood of bulls can cleanse the flesh, much more shall the blood of Christ wipe away the defilement of the soul.

For lest, hearing 'sanctifies,' you should think it something great, he points it out and shows the difference between the two purifications, and how the one is lofty, the other lowly;

and he says that this is with good reason, seeing that the one was the blood of bulls, but the other the blood of Christ.

And he was not content with the name, but sets forth also the manner of the offering;

'Who through the eternal Spirit,' he says, 'offered Himself without blemish unto God;'

that is, the victim was without blemish, pure from sins.

And the phrase 'through the eternal Spirit' shows that He was offered not through fire, nor through any other such means.

'He shall cleanse your conscience,' he says, 'from dead works.'

And well did he say, 'from dead works;'

for if anyone in those days touched a dead body, he was defiled;

and here too, if anyone touch a dead work, he is defiled through his conscience.

'To serve the living God,' he says, 'and true.'

Here he intimates that it is not possible for one who has dead works to serve the living God.

And he said 'true and living God' with good reason, showing thereby that the things offered to Him are also of this kind.

So that these things which are with us are both living and true;

but those among the Jews are both dead and false.

Let no one therefore who has dead works enter in here.

For if he that touched a dead body might not enter in, much more he that has dead works;

for it is a most grievous defilement.

And dead works are all those that have no life in them, that breathe out a foul stench.

For just as a dead body is useful for no purpose of sense, but even grieves those who come near it;

so also sin straightway smites the reasoning faculty, and does not suffer even the mind itself to be at rest, but troubles and confounds it.

And it is said that a plague, when it is engendered, destroys bodies.

Such also is sin;

it differs in nothing from a plague—not first corrupting the air and then the bodies, but leaping straightway into the soul.

Do you not see how the plague-stricken are inflamed, how they writhe about, how they are filled with foul stench, how loathsome are their countenances, how wholly unclean they are? Such also are those who sin, even though they do not see it.

For tell me, is not the man who is taken captive by the lust of money, or of bodies, worse than any who is in a fever? Is he not more unclean than all these, both doing and suffering all shameless things? For what is more shameful than a man who is in love with money? All that harlot women, all that women on the stage do not refuse to do, not even so much does this man refuse;

nay rather, it is likely that those women would sooner refuse than he.

Why do I say he does not refuse? He even submits to slavish deeds, flattering those whom he ought not, and again waxing bold where he ought not, everywhere inconsistent;

he sits fawning upon wicked men and impostors, often utterly corrupt, far poorer and meaner than himself, while he insults and behaves insolently toward others who are good and in every way virtuous.

Do you see on both sides the unseemliness, the shamelessness? He is both lowly beyond measure, and a boaster.

But the harlots stand upon a stall, and this is their reproach,

that they sell the body for money's sake;

yet they have some defense, their poverty and the hunger that constrains them;

although at the utmost not even this is a sufficient defense;

for it was in their power to support themselves by working.

But here stands the covetous man, not upon a stall, but in the very midst of the city, betraying to the devil not his body but his soul, so that he consorts with him and goes in to him as verily to a harlot, and comes forth having fulfilled all his lust;

and the whole city sees, not two men and three.

And this too is peculiar to harlots, that they belong to him who gives the gold;

for whether he be a slave, or free, or a gladiator, or whosoever he may be, if only he offers the wage, they accept him;

but those who offer nothing, even though they be nobler than all, without the silver they do not admit.

This same thing these men also do here;

the upright reasonings, when these have no silver, they turn away from;

but with the vile and truly beast-fighting ones they consort for the gold's sake, and consort shamefully, and destroy the beauty of the soul.

For just as those women are by nature ill-favored, and swarthy, and coarse, and gross, and shapeless, and misshapen, and in every way foul;

so also do the souls of these men become, unable even with outward paints to hide their deformity.

For when the ugliness is extreme, whatever devices they contrive, they cannot even feign a fair appearance.

That shamelessness makes harlots, hear the prophet saying:

'Thou wast shameless toward all; thou hadst a harlot's face.'

This too may be said to the covetous: thou wast shameless toward all—not toward these and those, but toward all.

How? Such a man reverences neither father, nor son, nor wife, nor friend, nor brother, nor benefactor, nor anyone at all.

And why do I speak of friend and brother and father? He reverences not God Himself, but everything seems to him a fable, and he laughs, drunken with his excessive lust, and does not receive even by hearing any of the things that might profit him.

But—O the absurdity!—what things they utter:

'Woe to thee, Mammon, and to him that has thee not!'

At this I am cut asunder with indignation;

for woe to those who say such things, even if they say them in jest.

For tell me, did not God utter just such a threat when He said:

'You cannot serve two masters'? Yet you make light of the threat, daring to utter such things to your own hurt. Does not Paul call this very thing idolatry, and name the covetous man an idolater? Yet you stand there laughing after the manner of worldly women, playing the buffoon like those upon the stage? IV.

This has overturned everything; this has cast all down.

Our affairs have become a matter of jesting, of mere social politeness and wit;

there is nothing steadfast, nothing solid.

I do not say these things to worldly men only; but I know at whom I am hinting;

for the Church has become filled with laughter.

If some one make a witty remark, immediately there is laughter among those who are seated;

and the marvel is that many do not cease from laughing even at the very time of prayer.

Everywhere the devil leads the dance; he has clothed himself upon all, he holds sway over all;

Christ is dishonored, thrust aside; the Church counts for nothing.

Do you not hear Paul saying:

'Let filthiness and foolish talking and jesting be put away from you'? Together with filthiness he sets down jesting;

yet you laugh? What is foolish talking? Things that have nothing useful about them.

And do you laugh at all, and relax your countenance, you who are a monk? you who are crucified, who mourn? do you laugh, tell me? Where did you hear that Christ did this? Nowhere; but rather often that He was of a downcast look.

For indeed when He beheld Jerusalem, He wept; and when He thought upon the traitor, He was troubled; and when He was about to raise Lazarus, He wept.

yet you laugh? If he who does not grieve over the sins of others is worthy of accusation;

he who is unfeeling toward his own sins and laughs, of what pardon shall he be worthy? The present is a time of mourning and of affliction, of buffeting and of bringing into bondage, of struggles and of sweat;

yet you laugh? Do you not see how Sarah was rebuked? do you not hear Christ saying:

'Woe to you that laugh, for you shall weep'? These things you chant every day.

For what do you say, tell me? that

but what? 'I am weary with my groaning.'

But perhaps there are some so dissolute and slack that they laugh even at this rebuke, because forsooth we are discoursing about laughter.

For such is their derangement, such their madness, that they do not even perceive the rebuke.

The priest of God stands offering up the prayer of all;

yet you laugh, fearing nothing? And while he trembles as he offers up the prayers on your behalf, do you despise it? Do you not hear the Scripture saying:

'Woe to the despisers'? Do you not shudder? do you not compose yourself? And when you enter into palaces, you order yourself decorously in fashion, in look, in gait, and in all else;

but here, where are the true palaces, and things such as those of heaven, do you laugh? I know indeed that you do not see;

but hear that angels are present everywhere, and especially in the house of God they stand beside the King, and all is filled with those bodiless powers.

This word of mine is addressed also to the women, who indeed do not readily dare to do this in the presence of their husbands, and even if they do, not always, but only at a time of relaxation;

Do you cover your head, tell me, and yet laugh, O woman, sitting in church? You came in to confess your sins, to fall down before God, to entreat and supplicate for the offenses you have grievously committed, and do you do this with laughter? How then shall you be able to propitiate Him? 'And what harm is there in laughter?' one says. Laughter is not an evil, but the evil is what is beyond measure, what is out of season.

Laughter is implanted in us, that when we see friends after a long time, we may do this; that when we see some who are dismayed and fearful, we may relieve them by a smile; not that we should burst into loud laughter and be always laughing.

Laughter is implanted in our soul, that the soul may sometimes be relaxed, not that it may be dissolved.

Since there is implanted in us also a desire for bodies, and yet it is by no means necessary, because it is implanted, to make use of it, or to use it without measure;

but we even master it, and do not say, Since it is implanted, let us make use of it.

Serve God with tears, that you may be able to wash away your sins.

I know that many mock at us, saying, Tears at once!

I know too that they take it for an ill omen, those who say, Let us eat and drink;

But consider that 'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity';

it is not I who say it, but he who made trial of all things says this;

'I built me houses, I planted me vineyards, I made me pools of water, I got me cupbearers, both men and women;'

and what then does he say after all these things? 'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.'

Let us therefore mourn, beloved, let us mourn, that we may truly laugh, that we may truly rejoice in the time of pure joy;

for this joy is altogether mingled with sorrow, and it is never possible to find it pure;

but that other joy is pure and guileless, having nothing hollow nor anything mixed with it;

let us rejoice in that joy, let us pursue after that.

And it is not possible to attain it otherwise than by choosing here not the pleasant things but the profitable, and by being willingly a little afflicted, and by bearing all that befalls with thanksgiving.

For thus shall we be able also to attain the kingdom of heaven, by the grace and lovingkindness, and so forth.