Hebrews 9:6-10

The Shadow and the Substance: Why the Old Worship Had to Fail Text: Hebrews 9:6-10

Introduction: God's Deliberate Object Lesson

The author of Hebrews is a master logician, building his case for the supremacy of Christ brick by brick. He is not making sentimental appeals; he is making a rigorous, covenantal argument. He is demonstrating to his Hebrew readers, who were being tempted to slide back into the shadows of the old covenant, that to do so would be like a man choosing to live with a photograph of his wife when she is standing right there in the room. The photograph was good, it was a true likeness, it was a gift. But it was always, by its very nature, a pointer to the real thing.

In our text today, the author takes us inside the tabernacle. He is not just giving us an architectural tour. He is showing us the divinely designed inadequacy of the entire system. This is crucial. The Old Covenant was not a mistake. It was not God's Plan A that failed, forcing Him to scramble for a Plan B. No, the Old Covenant was God's perfect, inspired, and deliberate object lesson to teach us about the necessity and the nature of the New Covenant. Every detail, every ritual, every restriction was a sermon preached by the Holy Spirit, and the text of that sermon was this: a better way is coming.

The system was designed to create a profound sense of both nearness and distance. God is here, in the camp, dwelling among His people. But you cannot get to Him. There are veils, there are priests, there are rituals, there are sacrifices, and they all stand as sentinels, guarding the way. The entire structure was a magnificent, glorious, and holy "Keep Out" sign. It was a system built to show its own insufficiency. It was a hunger designed to make you long for the true feast. And if we don't understand why the old system had to fail, we will never truly grasp the glory of what Christ has accomplished.


The Text

Now when these things have been so prepared, the priests are continually entering the first part of the tabernacle performing the divine worship, 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 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, which is a symbol for the present time. Accordingly both gifts and sacrifices are offered which cannot make the worshiper perfect in conscience, since they relate only to food and drink and various washings, requirements for the body imposed until a time of reformation.
(Hebrews 9:6-10 LSB)

Repetitive Ritual and Restricted Access (vv. 6-7)

The first point the author makes is about the daily grind of the priests and the extreme limitations placed on the high priest.

"Now when these things have been so prepared, the priests are continually entering the first part of the tabernacle performing the divine worship, 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." (Hebrews 9:6-7)

Notice the two key adverbs: "continually" and "once a year." The ordinary priests were always busy in the Holy Place, the first room. They were trimming the lamps, changing out the showbread, burning incense. It was a constant, repetitive cycle of work. Their work was never done. A priest could never sit down. This endless activity was a visible testament to the fact that the sacrifices were not ultimately effective. If the job was finished, they could have stopped. But the blood of bulls and goats could never finally take away sin, so the work had to go on, day after day, a constant reminder of sin.

Then we have the second room, the Holy of Holies, where the very presence of God was localized. Access here was even more restricted. Not just any priest could go in. Only the high priest. Not whenever he wanted. Only "once a year" on the Day of Atonement. And most importantly, "not without taking blood." Blood was the price of admission. Without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness. But notice whose blood it is. It's the blood of an animal, an unwilling substitute. And notice who he offers it for: "for himself and for the sins of the people." The high priest himself was a sinner. He had to atone for his own sin before he could even begin to atone for the sins of the people. This is a flawed system from top to bottom. The mediator himself needs a mediator.

This whole arrangement screams distance. It shouts limitation. God is holy, you are sinful, and the chasm between you is vast. One man, one day a year, with the blood of another, after dealing with his own sin first. This is not open-door fellowship. This is a relationship conducted through layers of protocol and mediation, all of which were designed to highlight the problem of sin.


The Holy Spirit's Sermon (vv. 8-9a)

The author then tells us explicitly what to conclude from this arrangement. This was not just a set of arbitrary rules; it was a message from God Himself.

"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, which is a symbol for the present time." (Hebrews 9:8-9a)

The entire structure of the tabernacle was a divine illustration. The Holy Spirit was the preacher, and the architecture was His sermon. And the point of the sermon was this: as long as this physical system is the operating system, the true way into God's presence is closed. The "first part of the tabernacle," the Holy Place, with its constant, ineffective ministry, stood as a barrier, a constant reminder that the veil into the Most Holy Place had not yet been torn. It was a symbol, a parable, a placeholder.

The author calls it a "symbol for the present time." This is a crucial phrase. The old system was a living parable that taught a spiritual truth. It was a shadow pointing forward to the substance that was to come in Christ. Every sacrifice was a promissory note, pointing to the day when the real payment would be made. To cling to the shadows when the substance has arrived is to fundamentally misunderstand what the shadows were for. They were never meant to be the final reality.


The Deficient Sacrifice: A Guilty Conscience (vv. 9b-10)

Finally, the author gets to the heart of the problem. The Old Covenant system failed at the most fundamental level: it could not cleanse the conscience.

"Accordingly both gifts and sacrifices are offered which cannot make the worshiper perfect in conscience, since they relate only to food and drink and various washings, requirements for the body imposed until a time of reformation." (Hebrews 9:9b-10)

This is the fatal flaw. An Israelite could bring his bull, lay his hands on its head, confess his sin, and watch the priest slit its throat. He could be ceremonially cleansed and restored to the worshipping community. But when he walked away, he knew deep down that the blood of that animal could not truly wash away the internal stain of his guilt. The memory of sin remained. The conscience was not "perfected," it was not brought to completion or fully cleansed. The sacrifices provided a temporary, external covering, but they could not provide a deep, internal, lasting peace with God.

Why? Because they were all "requirements for the body." They dealt with ceremonial uncleanness. They were about "food and drink and various washings." These were external regulations. They could make your body clean enough to enter the outer court, but they could not make your soul clean enough to stand before a holy God. You can't wash away a lie with water. You can't atone for adultery with the blood of a goat. These were physical solutions to a spiritual problem, and so they were necessarily inadequate.

And they were temporary. They were "imposed until a time of reformation." The whole system had an expiration date. A "time of reformation" was coming, a time of setting things right, a time when the new order would be established. That time, the author argues, has now arrived in the person and work of Jesus Christ. The old system was the scaffolding, but now the building is complete, and it is time for the scaffolding to come down.


Conclusion: From a Guilty Conscience to a Clear Conscience

So what is the takeaway for us? We must see that the author is setting up a great contrast. The old system was characterized by repetitive work, restricted access, and a guilty conscience. The New Covenant in Christ is the glorious opposite.

Where the priests' work was continual, Christ's work is finished. He offered one sacrifice for all time and then He "sat down" at the right hand of the Father (Hebrews 10:12). The work is done. The payment has been made in full.

Where access was restricted to one man, once a year, now the way is thrown open to all believers, all the time. When Christ died, the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom, signifying that the way into the Holy of Holies was now open for all who come by faith in Him. We can now "draw near with confidence to the throne of grace" (Hebrews 4:16).

And most wonderfully, where the old sacrifices could not perfect the conscience, the blood of Christ "purify our conscience from dead works to serve the living God" (Hebrews 9:14). The nagging sense of guilt, the memory of sin that accuses us, has been silenced by the blood of Jesus. He has not just covered our sin; He has cleansed it. He has not just dealt with the external problem; He has solved the internal one.

Therefore, to go back to the old system is insanity. It is to choose a guilty conscience over a clear one. It is to choose distance from God over intimacy with Him. It is to choose the endless, repetitive work of trying to earn your salvation over the finished, perfect work of Christ. The shadows were good and necessary for their time. But the sun has risen. The substance is here. Let us not live in the shadows any longer, but walk in the glorious light of the Son, with full assurance and a clean conscience, drawing near to the living God who has drawn near to us.