Sunday, March 7, 2021

Melchizedek 1

The whole "Melchizedek" argument of the Hebrews writer is far deeper than one assumes at first glance. And it seems clear that the writer "goes there" because, under the leading of God's Spirit, he knows precisely how critically important, and vitally true, this is. And he knows, too, that his particular immediate audience of readers, i.e., Hebrew Christians who are teetering on the edge of apostasy, desperately needs to grasp it. 


Had it not been for this crisis in the early Church, one that is reflected far more broadly in NT texts than, again, a superficial glance would suggest, we might never have heard of this "Melchizedek" argument, as there would have been no compelling need for an "Epistle to the Hebrews." But this crisis was the Church's first, internal, existential threat, a conflict not only starkly evident in the Epistle to the Galatians but one that rears its ugly head also in Acts, echoes between the lines (not very subtly when you know what to look for) in Romans as well as providing a certain flavor, a tinge, to other texts, including probably the Gospels, in particular Matthew and John. 


Chapter 7 of Hebrew dives headfirst into the "Melchizedek" argument, though the writer passingly referred to it once or twice earlier in the epistle. In chapter seven he finally gives full vent to it. 


To the faction of Hebrew Christians--largely, I speculate, converts from the Pharisees (the "Chasidim" of their day)--several developments in the Christian Church's early days gradually triggered a growing unease and ambivalence about their newfound faith in the Risen Messiah Jesus. 


One of these was, I deduce from hints in the NT, a growing horror at the still primitive, theologically unformulated but pervasive regard for Jesus as essential deity, "one with the Father," in short God. Jesus was called "Lord," He was prayed to, Old Testament passages unquestionably describing Yahweh were routinely ascribed to Jesus--the implication was blatant. It seems this was more than they thought they were buying into when they finally believed in Jesus (likely, I again speculate, in response to the overwhelming evidence of His resurrection along with the manifestations following Pentecost). 


Another was their horror at what they interpreted as libertinism and sacrilege in the "goyim," Gentiles, coming into the "Church," which to them would be the perfected Israel, the People of Messiah, without a full-fledged conversion to law-observant Judaism. Their faith in Jesus had never supplanted the supreme place accorded to The Law in their hearts. As one excellent commentator put it, if Paul understood the law as given in order to lead us to Christ, the party of the Law-based Gospel in the early Church understood Christ as having been given to lead the world to the Law. 


The Mosaic Law enjoying such supremacy in their view, it is easier to grasp why any implication of Christ's deity would have been anathema to them, since, were He God, He would simply have to be, ipso facto, supreme over the Law itself. Because nobody and nothing but God is greater than God's holy Law. You could not admit Christ's deity without shattering the whole paradigm of your Gospel of the Law. The interplay between these two objections shows them to be fundamentally one at core. 


Hebrews is addressed to this party, this faction, in the early Church; they are on the brink of abandoning Jesus entirely. In modern parlance, they've had it. They see they are on the losing side, frustrated in their zealous effort to instill their "Gospel" in the Church and preach it among the Gentiles, and, therefore, furious. The inflow of unwashed Gentiles is only gathering force, which repels them to the core of their being. And, again, this whole thing about Jesus as "Lord" is increasingly unsettling and ominous. So, they're nearly out the door, it's virtually a done deal. The author of Hebrews is writing in something near desperation--the desperation of love--to stop them from quitting Jesus. Or, even if they had every intention of carrying on in their "Christian faith," only of the flavor they considered correct, then we can say the Hebrews author is writing, in love's desperation, to stop them from quitting the REAL Jesus (compare Paul's fiery denunciation of "another Jesus, another gospel"). 


In the course of this appeal, the author brings up this simply fascinating, actually stunning, argument about Melchizedek. It seems to come out of NOWHERE, and some might accuse it of being frivolous, fanciful, an instance of "scraping...." 


From a quick review I see that every NT reference to Christ's priestly role is in Hebrews. Without this epistle the whole idea, at least overtly (apart from places in John where Jesus announces He will be praying to the Father for His disciples), would be absent from the New Testament. Plus, the single OT reference to some mysterious, unnamed figure some time becoming a "priest" outside the entire order of the Law, that is, in the order of Melchizedek, would remain a loose end, a trail going nowhere, an anomaly. 


Theologically speaking, the Christian Church could have "lived without," would not have crashed without, the whole notion of Christ as the High Priest; that is, had the NT never mentioned it, we would have muddled along satisfactorily on the understanding that Jesus was "the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world" and not have worried our heads over who or where the "high priest" was or fit in this equation. In other words, the absence of an overtly indicated Ultimate High Priest in the final Atonement would not have crippled our redemption theology. 


The absence of such an overt teaching in the NT would not, of course, have meant that Christ WASN'T God's Ultimate High Priest; it would simply have meant that the Church went on unaware of the fact. 


All of which makes the Hebrews writer's resort to such a "peripheral," some say frivolous and doubtful argument in the face of such a dire, life-and-death crisis so astounding. The only sensible conclusion is that the writer doesn't see the argument as peripheral, frivolous or doubtful in the least. To him, it is actually the entire, indispensable crux of the matter. It is the sine qua non, the Hinge. 


Such a realization makes you sit up and take a fresh, even startled, look at this whole thing about Melchizedek. 


End of Part 1.