Commentary - Hebrews 9:1-5

Bird's-eye view

In this passage, the author of Hebrews begins to draw a sharp and decisive contrast between the Old Covenant and the New by comparing their respective sanctuaries. He is not doing this as a mere architectural historian, but as a theologian showing the vast superiority of the substance over the shadow. He meticulously lays out the floor plan and furniture of the earthly tabernacle, not to give us a museum tour, but to demonstrate its inherent limitations. This earthly tent, with its divisions and regulations, was a temporary, physical model designed by God to point forward to a greater, heavenly reality. Its very structure, with a veil separating God from man and a Holy of Holies accessible only once a year, was a constant, built-in reminder of sin and separation. The author is setting the stage to reveal how Christ, as our Great High Priest, has entered the true, heavenly sanctuary, not with the blood of animals, but with His own, thereby securing an eternal redemption that the old system could only foreshadow.

The central argument being constructed here is one of typology. The Old Covenant apparatus was glorious, but it was a glory of gold and wood, a glory that was a copy. The author describes it with a certain detached reverence, acknowledging its divine origin while simultaneously preparing his readers to see it as obsolete. Every lampstand, every table, every golden vessel was a divinely-crafted object lesson pointing to Christ. The whole system was a placeholder, a magnificent but temporary stage set, waiting for the main actor to arrive. And now that He has come and finished His work, the stage set is being struck. To return to it, as some of the Hebrew Christians were tempted to do, would be to prefer the blueprint over the building, the shadow over the Son.

Outline

Context In Hebrews

This section immediately follows the author's detailed argument in chapter 8 that Christ is the mediator of a "better covenant" established on "better promises." He has already quoted Jeremiah's prophecy of the New Covenant, where the law would be written on hearts and minds, not stone tablets (Heb 8:8-12). He concluded by stating that in calling this covenant "new," God has made the first one "obsolete," and that what is obsolete is "ready to vanish away" (Heb 8:13). Chapter 9 now provides the concrete, visual evidence for this obsolescence. He moves from the covenant documents (the promises) to the covenant's central building (the sanctuary). He is essentially saying, "Let me show you the physical structure of that old system, so you can see for yourselves why it had to be replaced." This detailed description of the tabernacle serves as the necessary foundation for the argument that follows in the rest of the chapter, where Christ's priestly ministry in the heavenly sanctuary will be shown to be infinitely superior.

Key Issues

Shadows and Blueprints

Before we walk through this inventory of the tabernacle, we have to get our minds right about what we are looking at. The author is not being nostalgic. He is laying out the blueprint of a building that has been superseded by the glorious reality it was designed to prefigure. The Old Covenant was not a mistake; it was a divinely-ordained shadow. A shadow is not nothing; it proves the existence of a solid object that is casting it. The tabernacle and all its rites were a shadow cast backward into history by the cross of Jesus Christ. It was a "heavenly shadow covenant."

Everything in this earthly tent was a copy and a shadow of the heavenly things (Heb 8:5). God told Moses to make it all according to the pattern shown to him on the mountain. This means the earthly tabernacle was a scale model of a heavenly reality. Therefore, every detail is pregnant with meaning. It's our job to read these symbols correctly, which means reading them christologically. The entire setup was designed to teach Israel about their separation from God due to sin and the specific, bloody, substitutionary way that God would one day provide for true access into His presence. It was a glorious kindergarten, but the time for graduation has come.

Verse by Verse Commentary

1 Now even the first covenant had requirements of divine worship and the earthly sanctuary.

The author begins by acknowledging the divine legitimacy of the Old Covenant. It wasn't a free-for-all. It had requirements, or ordinances, for worship that were established by God Himself. And central to that worship was its location: an earthly sanctuary. The word "earthly" here is key. It is not a pejorative term, but a descriptive one that sets up the great contrast of the chapter. The first covenant's focal point was a physical place, a sanctuary "of this world." This immediately establishes its provisional and temporary nature. It was located in the realm of the created, the tangible, the shadow. It was a holy place, to be sure, but it was a holiness tied to geography and architecture, not the ultimate holiness of heaven itself.

2 For there was a tabernacle prepared: the first part, in which were the lampstand and the table and the sacred bread, which is called the holy place.

He now walks us inside. The tabernacle, the tent of meeting, was divided into two sections. He starts with the first room, the outer chamber, called the holy place. Here, the priests would conduct their daily ministries. He lists three items found there. First, the lampstand, a golden menorah that was the only source of light in the windowless room, a picture of the Word of God, the light of life, which would find its ultimate expression in Christ, the light of the world. Second, the table, upon which was placed the third item, the sacred bread, or the "bread of the Presence." Twelve loaves were kept on the table, representing the twelve tribes of Israel, living continually in the presence of God. This pointed to Christ, who is the true bread of life, the one who sustains God's people.

3 And behind the second veil there was a tabernacle which is called the Holy of Holies,

The author then takes us deeper, to the dividing line within the sanctuary itself: the second veil. This was a thick, heavy curtain that separated the holy place from the innermost chamber. This veil was the great symbol of separation. It was a barrier, a tangible "Do Not Enter" sign from God. Sin had separated humanity from the immediate presence of God, and this veil was the constant architectural reminder of that fact. Behind that veil was the second part of the tabernacle, the most sacred space on earth, called the Holy of Holies. This was God's throne room, the symbolic dwelling place of His glory.

4 having a golden altar of incense and the ark of the covenant covered on all sides with gold, in which was a golden jar holding the manna, and Aaron’s rod which budded, and the tablets of the covenant.

Here we have a list of the furniture associated with this inner sanctum. First, he mentions the golden altar of incense. Some stumble here because Exodus places this altar outside the veil. But the author of Hebrews associates it functionally with the Holy of Holies, as its smoke would fill the inner room on the Day of Atonement. It belonged to the "apparatus" of the Holy of Holies, representing the prayers of the saints ascending before God's throne. Then he comes to the centerpiece: the ark of the covenant. This was a golden chest, the very footstool of God. Inside it were three items testifying to Israel's history and rebellion, and God's faithful provision. The manna was a reminder of God's provision in the wilderness, pointing to Christ as the true bread from heaven. Aaron's rod that budded was a sign of God's chosen priesthood, pointing to Christ's superior, life-giving priesthood. And the tablets of the covenant, the Ten Commandments, were a reminder of God's holy law which the people had broken, pointing to Christ who would perfectly fulfill the law and write it on our hearts.

5 And above it were the cherubim of glory overshadowing the mercy seat. Of these things we cannot now speak in detail.

On top of the ark was its lid, the mercy seat, and fashioned on top of that were two cherubim of glory. These were angelic figures whose wings overshadowed the mercy seat. This was the spot, between the cherubim, where the glory of God was said to dwell and where the blood of the sacrifice was sprinkled on the Day of Atonement. This was the place of propitiation, where God's wrath against sin was satisfied by a substitutionary death. This glorious transaction on the earthly mercy seat was a type of the ultimate transaction that would occur on the cross and be presented at the true mercy seat in heaven, where Christ's blood would satisfy God's justice once for all. The author then cuts himself short. He says he cannot speak in detail about these things. This is not because he is ignorant, but because his purpose is not to provide an exhaustive symbolic dictionary. His purpose is to establish the basic layout in order to get to his main point: the inadequacy of this whole arrangement when compared to the ministry of Christ.

Application

The primary application of this passage is a profound sense of gratitude for the finished work of Jesus Christ. We are so accustomed to the idea of approaching God freely that we forget what a radical, earth-shattering privilege it is. The Old Covenant system was designed to teach one overarching lesson: God is holy, and you are not, and therefore you must keep your distance. The veil was not an invitation; it was a warning.

But when Christ died, that veil was torn in two from top to bottom (Matt 27:51). The author of Hebrews tells us that the veil was Christ's flesh (Heb 10:20). In His death, the barrier was removed. The way into the true Holy of Holies, into the very presence of God, was thrown open. We no longer need a complicated system of rituals, a special priestly class, or an annual sacrifice to approach God. We can now draw near with confidence through the blood of Jesus. This means our worship is not about maintaining distance but about celebrating access. It means our prayers are not filtered through an earthly altar of incense but are brought directly before the throne of grace by our Great High Priest. We must never take this access for granted. To flirt with any system of works-righteousness, to imagine that our performance or our rituals can make us acceptable to God, is to try to stitch that torn veil back together. The way is open. Let us, therefore, come boldly.