Hebrews 5:11-14

Spiritual Baby Food: The Danger of a Dull Palate Text: Hebrews 5:11-14

Introduction: The Peril of Perpetual Infancy

The author of Hebrews has just introduced one of the most profound and central themes of his entire letter. He has declared that Jesus Christ is a high priest forever, after the order of Melchizedek. This is a glorious, mountain-peak truth. But just as he is about to lead his readers up that mountain, he stops short. He hits the brakes. And what follows is a sharp, pastoral rebuke. It is a necessary and bracing digression.

He looks at his audience, these Hebrew Christians who were being tempted to slide back into the shadows of the Old Covenant, and he realizes he cannot serve them the rich, solid food of Melchizedekian theology. Why? Because they are still in the high chair, banging their spoon on the tray, demanding milk. They have become spiritually dull. Their ears are clogged with wax. They have been Christians long enough to be teaching Sunday School, but instead, they need to go back to kindergarten and learn their spiritual ABCs all over again.

This is a perennial danger for the church in every age, and ours is certainly no exception. We live in a culture that prizes perpetual adolescence. We have created a world of spiritual Peter Pans who refuse to grow up. We want a faith that is convenient, comfortable, and requires no heavy lifting. We want the blessings of salvation without the rigors of sanctification. We want the comfort of the nursery without the responsibilities of the battlefield. But the Christian life is a process of maturation. God does not save us to keep us in a playpen; He saves us to make us soldiers, to make us teachers, to make us mature sons and daughters who can handle the strong meat of His Word and discern good from evil.

The rebuke in this passage is not meant to condemn, but to awaken. It is a splash of cold water in the face of a slumbering church. The author is not saying they are not saved; he is saying they are not growing. And in the Christian life, to fail to advance is to begin to retreat. Stagnation is the first step toward apostasy. This passage is a call to leave the nursery behind, to develop a palate for strong doctrine, and to grow up into the full stature of Christ.


The Text

Concerning him we have much to say, and it is hard to explain, since you have become dull of hearing. For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you have need again for someone to teach you the elementary principles of the oracles of God, and you have come to need milk and not solid food. For everyone who partakes only of milk is not accustomed to the word of righteousness, for he is an infant. But solid food is for the mature, who because of practice have their senses trained to discern both good and evil.
(Hebrews 5:11-14 LSB)

The Diagnosis: Deliberate Dullness (v. 11)

The writer begins by identifying the problem, and he places the blame squarely on the readers.

"Concerning him we have much to say, and it is hard to explain, since you have become dull of hearing." (Hebrews 5:11)

The topic at hand is Melchizedek, and through him, the superior priesthood of Jesus. The author says he has a sermon series ready to go on this. It is rich, deep, and glorious. But he says it is "hard to explain." The difficulty, however, is not in the subject matter itself. The problem is not with the preacher or the doctrine. The problem is with the pews. The message is not too deep; the hearers are too shallow.

Notice the crucial phrase: "you have become dull of hearing." This was not their original state. This is an acquired condition. They were not born with bad spiritual ears; they have, through neglect and laziness, allowed them to become dull. The Greek word for "dull" is nothros, which means sluggish, lazy, or slothful. It is a moral problem, not an intellectual one. They are not incapable of understanding; they are unwilling to put in the effort.

How does this happen? It happens when Christians stop actively engaging with the Word. It happens when prayer becomes a formality, when fellowship is just a social club, and when the mind is filled with the junk food of the world instead of the nourishing truth of Scripture. Spiritual hearing, like a muscle, atrophies from disuse. They had started to drift, as he warned earlier (Heb. 2:1), and the result is that their spiritual senses have become sluggish and unresponsive. They can no longer pick up the finer frequencies of biblical truth.


The Disgrace: Perpetual Infancy (v. 12)

The author then lays out the shameful consequences of their spiritual laziness.

"For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you have need again for someone to teach you the elementary principles of the oracles of God, and you have come to need milk and not solid food." (Hebrews 5:12)

There is a principle of spiritual growth here: time implies progress. "By this time," he says. There is an expectation of maturity that corresponds to the time one has been a Christian. God expects a return on His investment. They had been believers long enough that they should be on the teaching end of the equation. They should be discipling younger believers, leading Bible studies, explaining the gospel to their neighbors. A healthy Christian reproduces.

But instead of teaching, they need to be taught. And not just the advanced material, but the "elementary principles of the oracles of God." They need to go back to square one. The "oracles of God" is a high-octane term for the Scriptures. The "elementary principles" are the basic building blocks of the faith, what he will later call the foundation of repentance, faith, baptisms, and so on (Heb. 6:1-2). They have regressed. They are like a college student who has forgotten how to do basic addition.

He drives the point home with the famous metaphor of milk versus solid food. They have come to need milk. Milk is for infants. It is essential, foundational, and easily digestible. There is nothing wrong with milk, every new Christian needs it. But there is something deeply wrong with a grown man who can only stomach Gerber. A diet of milk alone cannot sustain a mature man, and a diet of only the simplest gospel truths cannot sustain a mature Christian life. They are stuck in a state of arrested development.


The Definition: Unskilled with Righteousness (v. 13)

He then defines what it means to be a spiritual infant, stuck on a milk-only diet.

"For everyone who partakes only of milk is not accustomed to the word of righteousness, for he is an infant." (Hebrews 5:13)

The one who lives on milk is "not accustomed to the word of righteousness." This phrase can also be translated as "unskilled in" or "inexperienced with" the word of righteousness. This is not about salvation. This is about sanctification. The "word of righteousness" is the whole counsel of God as it applies to life. It is the doctrine of right living that flows from the doctrine of right believing. It is the application of Scripture to the nitty-gritty of daily existence, to our work, our families, our finances, our politics.

The spiritual infant knows the simple gospel fact that Christ is his righteousness. But he is unskilled in how to live out that righteousness. He does not know how to handle the Word of God as a tool, as a weapon, as a guide for life. He may have a "what would Jesus do" bracelet, but he has very little biblical idea of what Jesus would actually do in any given complex situation. He is an infant, helpless and dependent, unable to feed himself or navigate the moral complexities of the world.


The Destination: Trained Discernment (v. 14)

Finally, the author presents the goal, the picture of spiritual maturity.

"But solid food is for the mature, who because of practice have their senses trained to discern both good and evil." (Hebrews 5:14)

Solid food, the deep doctrines of Scripture, is for the mature. And who are the mature? They are those who have trained themselves. Maturity is not automatic. It does not come with age. It comes "because of practice." The Greek word for practice here gives us our English word "gymnasium." Spiritual maturity is the result of rigorous, disciplined training.

What is trained? Their "senses." This refers to their spiritual faculties, their moral and spiritual perception. Through the constant use of the Word of God, their spiritual taste buds, their spiritual hearing, their spiritual sight become sharp and refined. They have put in the reps. They have wrestled with difficult passages, applied Scripture to hard situations, and engaged in the spiritual disciplines day in and day out.

And what is the result of this training? They are able to "discern both good and evil." Discernment is the hallmark of maturity. The mature Christian is not tossed to and fro by every wind of doctrine or cultural fad. He can distinguish truth from error, wisdom from folly, and righteousness from wickedness. In our day, when the world is working overtime to blur every conceivable line, to call evil good and good evil, this skill is more vital than ever. The mature believer can spot a theological lie from a mile away. He can identify the subtle poison of worldliness mixed in with entertainment. He can navigate ethical gray areas with biblical wisdom. He is not a babe, easily deceived, but a man with a trained palate who knows the difference between a fine steak and a plate of poison.


Conclusion: Time to Grow Up

This passage is a sharp and necessary rebuke, but it is also a gracious invitation. The author is not content to leave his readers in their spiritual infancy. In the very next verse, he says, "Therefore let us leave the elementary teaching about the Christ, and let us press on to maturity" (Heb. 6:1). The goal is always forward, always upward, always deeper into the glorious truths of God.

We must ask ourselves where we fall in this diagnosis. Have we been Christians for five, ten, twenty years, but are still on a diet of spiritual Pablum? Are we content with a shallow, sentimental faith that makes no intellectual demands and requires no disciplined effort? Do we find deep sermons and theological books to be "dull"? If so, we must recognize that the problem is not with the food, but with our palate.

The call is to grow up. The call is to get into the gymnasium of the Word. It is a call to practice, to exercise, to train our senses. We must move beyond the milk of "Jesus loves me, this I know" to the strong meat of the sovereignty of God, the covenantal structure of Scripture, the doctrines of grace, and the glorious high priesthood of Jesus Christ. It is this solid food that builds strong spiritual bones. It is this solid food that equips us to be teachers. And it is this solid food that trains us to discern good and evil, enabling us to stand firm in a world that has lost its mind.

Let us therefore repent of our laziness. Let us ask God to restore our spiritual appetite. And let us resolve, by His grace, to leave the milk behind and press on to the feast of solid food that He has prepared for all those who would be mature.