Commentary - Hebrews 9:6-10

Bird's-eye view

In this passage, the author of Hebrews is drawing a sharp, architectural contrast between the daily, repetitive, and ultimately ineffectual ministry of the Old Covenant priests and the singular, final, and perfect work of Jesus Christ. He has just described the layout of the tabernacle, with its two distinct chambers, the Holy Place and the Most Holy Place. Now, he explains the meaning of that division. The constant activity in the first chamber, juxtaposed with the severely restricted, once-a-year access to the second, was a built-in object lesson from the Holy Spirit. The lesson was this: the way into the true presence of God was not yet open. The entire system, with its sacrifices and rituals, was a placeholder. It was a divinely ordained symbol, a shadow pointing forward to the substance that would arrive in Christ. It could deal with ceremonial uncleanness, matters of the flesh, but it could never reach the conscience, the true seat of man's guilt before a holy God. These were temporary regulations, imposed only until the "time of reformation" when the reality, Christ Himself, would come and overhaul the entire system.

The central argument is one of planned obsolescence. The Old Covenant system was designed by God to demonstrate its own inadequacy. Its very structure shouted, "This is not the final answer!" The constant need for more sacrifices proved that the previous ones had not truly worked. The veil separating God from man was the most potent symbol of all, showing that sin still constituted a fundamental barrier. The author is pressing his Hebrew readers, who were tempted to return to the temple rituals, to see that going back to the shadow after the substance has arrived is not just a mistake, it is an absurdity. It is like preferring a blueprint to the finished building.


Outline


Context In Hebrews

This section is the heart of the author's argument about the superiority of Christ's priesthood and sacrifice over the Levitical system. In chapter 7, he established that Christ is a priest after the order of Melchizedek, a superior and eternal order. In chapter 8, he argued that this new priest ministers a new and better covenant, making the first one obsolete. Now, in chapter 9, he moves from the priest and the covenant to the sanctuary and the sacrifice. He begins by describing the earthly tabernacle (9:1-5) to set the stage for this passage (9:6-10), which explains the deep inadequacy of its ministry. This detailed critique of the old system's limitations is the necessary groundwork for what follows immediately after: the glorious entrance of Christ, the true High Priest, into the true heavenly sanctuary with His own blood, obtaining not temporary covering, but eternal redemption (9:11-14). The entire argument is a crescendo, building from the shadows of the tabernacle to the blazing reality of Christ's finished work.


Key Issues


The Shadow is Not the Substance

One of the central burdens of the book of Hebrews is to teach the church how to read their Bibles, specifically the Old Testament. The old sacrificial system was not a mistake, nor was it a failed first draft. It was a divinely crafted foreshadowing. It was a picture book for children who were not yet ready for the full text. Every detail of the tabernacle, every action of the priests, was pregnant with meaning, but it was the meaning of a signpost, not the meaning of the destination itself. The signpost pointing to Moscow is not Moscow.

The author here is explaining that the very structure and rhythm of the old worship was a sermon preached by the Holy Spirit. The sermon had one main point: the way is not yet open. The constant activity of the priests was a constant reminder of sin's ongoing problem. The veil was a constant reminder of the separation between God and man. The whole thing was designed to create a profound sense of longing and expectation for something better, something that could actually deal with sin and open the way to God. To go back to that system after Christ has come is to fundamentally misunderstand its purpose. It is to prefer the photograph of the bridegroom when the bridegroom himself is standing right there, ready for the wedding.


Verse by Verse Commentary

6 Now when these things have been so prepared, the priests are continually entering the first part of the tabernacle performing the divine worship,

Having laid out the furniture of the tabernacle, the author now puts it into motion. The first room, the Holy Place, was a place of constant activity. Priests were always going in and out, trimming the lamps, replacing the showbread, burning incense. This was their regular, daily work. The word continually is key. Their work was never done. It was a repetitive cycle, a spiritual hamster wheel. This incessant activity was a visible demonstration that the problem of sin was being managed, but not solved. It was a constant ritual reminder of man's need for access to God, but the access they had was preliminary, preparatory, and partial.

7 but into the second, only the high priest enters once a year, not without taking blood, which he offers for himself and for the sins of the people committed in ignorance.

The contrast is stark. While the first room had constant traffic, the second room, the Holy of Holies, was almost always empty. Access was radically restricted. Only one man, the high priest, could enter. And he could only enter on one day of the year, the Day of Atonement. Even then, his entrance was conditioned on a crucial element: not without taking blood. Life had to be offered for him to go in. This blood was twofold. First, it was for himself, a glaring admission that the priest who was supposed to solve the sin problem was himself part of the sin problem. He too was a sinner in need of atonement. Second, the blood was for the "sins of the people committed in ignorance." This does not mean only sins people didn't know they were committing. It refers to the whole category of unintentional sins, sins of weakness, the pervasive sinfulness that clings to God's people even when they are not in active, high-handed rebellion. The fact that even these sins required such a solemn, bloody, once-a-year provision shows the utter seriousness of all sin before a holy God.

8 The Holy Spirit is indicating this, that the way into the holy places has not yet been manifested while that first part of the tabernacle is still standing,

Here the author gives us the divine interpretation of this architectural arrangement. This was not just an arbitrary set of rules. The Holy Spirit Himself was the designer, and He was teaching something profound. The very existence of the "first part of the tabernacle", that is, the entire Old Covenant system with its outer court and initial chamber, was a standing testimony that the true way into the holy places, into the unmediated presence of God, was not yet open. The veil was the great symbol of this. As long as that system was the current, valid system ("is still standing"), it functioned as a barrier. It was a divine "No Entry" sign. The road to God was, in effect, closed for construction.

9 which is a symbol for the present time. Accordingly both gifts and sacrifices are offered which cannot make the worshiper perfect in conscience,

The tabernacle system was a symbol, or a parable, for that "present time," meaning the entire age of the Old Covenant. And the core inadequacy of that symbolic system is now laid bare. The gifts and sacrifices offered under that covenant had a critical flaw: they could not perfect the worshiper in his conscience. They could restore him to ceremonial cleanness. They could allow him to participate in the life of the covenant community. But they could not reach inside and deal with the root problem of guilt. The worshiper would bring his lamb, the priest would sacrifice it, but the man would walk away with the same nagging awareness of his sinfulness before God. His conscience was not cleansed, only temporarily covered. The debt was postponed, not paid. The next time he sinned, he would have to do it all over again, because the blood of bulls and goats cannot fundamentally change a man's standing before God.

10 since they relate only to food and drink and various washings, requirements for the body imposed until a time of reformation.

The author summarizes the nature of the old regulations. They were external. They dealt with clean and unclean foods, ceremonial drinks, and various ritual washings. They were, as he puts it, requirements for the body, or ordinances of the flesh. They could make a man's body ceremonially clean, but they were powerless to cleanse his soul. And crucially, they had an expiration date. They were "imposed until a time of reformation." This "time of reformation" is the arrival of the Messiah and the inauguration of the New Covenant. It is the time of setting things right, of fulfilling the shadows with substance. The entire Old Covenant was a temporary arrangement, a scaffolding erected for the purpose of building the true temple. Once the building was complete in Christ, the scaffolding was destined to be torn down. The destruction of the Jerusalem temple in A.D. 70 was the historical exclamation point on this theological reality.


Application

The lesson of this passage is a potent antidote to all forms of ritualistic, external religion. It is entirely possible to be very busy with religious activities, attending church, giving money, participating in ministries, observing traditions, and still have a guilty conscience and no true access to God. The temptation of the Pharisees, and our temptation, is to believe that if we manage the outside well enough, the inside will take care of itself. Hebrews says this is a damnable lie. God is not interested in our external conformity if our conscience is still stained with guilt.

The good news is that the "time of reformation" has come. The way into the Holy of Holies has been thrown open. When Jesus died, the veil of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom, signifying that God Himself had ripped open the way into His presence. Christ's blood does what the blood of goats and bulls could never do. It purifies our conscience from dead works to serve the living God (Heb. 9:14). Because of Jesus, we do not have to live with a nagging sense of guilt. We can have our hearts "sprinkled clean from an evil conscience" (Heb. 10:22). The application, then, is not to try harder at our religious duties. The application is to flee from the shadows of our own religious performance and run to the substance, who is Christ. It is to trust entirely in His once-for-all sacrifice, the only sacrifice that can make a worshiper perfect in conscience and grant him bold access to the throne of grace.