Epicurus sought blessedness either in external and carnal delights, or in inner tranquility of soul, or in both at once; Muhammad sought it in all sorts of external delights; and neither of the two sought it in the possession, communion, enjoyment, and glorification of God. By that fact neither acknowledges that God is sufficient to make him blessed, nor consequently that God himself is blessed.

Petrus van Mastricht, Theoretical-Practical Theology, 2:491

The Modern Messiah: Minimalism

Consumerism “is perhaps the most powerful religious movement at work in the West today.”^[1] Coursing through its veins is the lifeblood of globalization and postmodernity. The production of unprecedented wealth in the West has been wedded to a rejection of an overarching story or worldview that gives meaning to our lives. Consumerism is their offspring. It has been borne to the high places from where it reigns supreme, decreeing a culture of consumption—nothing is off-limits, everything is desirable, all are on the hunt for more.

But the never-ending hunt of consumerism has, for tired souls, given way to the simple house-cleaning of minimalism that prioritizes control and seeks inner tranquility.

YouTube (verb) “minimalism” and begin scrolling. But be warned: it doesn’t end. It’s a dismal descent, deeper and deeper into that virtual black hole—you will not escape its gravitational pull until it’s 3 a.m. and, like Nebuchadnezzar driven from among men, your reason finally returns to you. Ironic, though, how minimalist sages have maximized on YouTube’s algorithm, and the very same secular prophets who decry consumerism for its financial obsession have come away with a nice profit of their own. 

Netflix even features a film, “Minimalism: A Documentary About the Important Things.” The trailer opens with these words: “We spend so much time on the hunt, but nothing ever quite does it for us. And we get so wrapped up in the hunt that it kind of makes us miserable.” Barbaric Black Friday footage ensues—consumerism unhinged—climaxing with insight that nails consumerism’s coffin shut, “You’re not going to get happier by consuming more.” How should we then live? Cue the messiah who will save us from our consumerism: minimalism.

Note, it’s not consumerism in principle that minimalism combats, but consumerism in its failed state: it promised happiness, but never delivered. “It makes us miserable” and “You’re not going to get happier” bookend the perceived plight of consumerism. Minimalism, therefore, is heralded, proclaimed, even preached as the messiah who will make good on consumerism’s unfulfilled promise to make us happy. The titles of these videos with hundreds of thousands of views tell the story: “5 Ways Minimalism Improves Our Happiness,” “A Minimalist Lifestyle Will Make You Happier,” “Why More Stuff Won’t Make You Happy,” and “Less stuff, more happiness.”

Blaise Pascal is again vindicated when he wrote,

All men seek happiness. This is without exception. Whatever different means they employ, they all tend to this end. The cause of some going to war, and of others avoiding it, is the same desire in both, attended with different views. The will never takes the least step but to this object. This is the motive of every action of every man, even of those who hang themselves.

So too the Dutch-Reformed theologian, Petrus van Mastricht:

[T]here is no one who does not desire his own blessedness. … [N]othing is desirable apart from blessedness; indeed, nothing is desirable except for the sake of blessedness. For why do people desire wealth, honors, pleasures, and so forth, except for the sake of blessedness? And likewise, why do we turn from and avoid every adversity, except that they impede and disturb our blessedness?

Theoretical-Practical Theology, 2:493-94

The pendulum has swung from external delight to internal tranquility, from consumerism to minimalism in hopes of finding peace and contentment, blessedness and happiness, satisfaction and fulfillment. The hunt has been exchanged for the hammock. 

But is minimalism our liberator or the same captor in a new guise?

Before scorching minimalism by placing it before the true Savior whose eyes are like a flame of fire (Rev. 1:14), there is much to commend about it—not, of course, as a modern messiah who can secure our blessedness, but as encapsulating some biblical wisdom according to God’s common grace.

Commandeering Minimalism

In what ways can we commandeer minimalism as Christians to aid us in our service to King Jesus and pursuit of God’s glory in all things? Here are a minimum of six ways.

1. An Apologetic against Consumerism, Confirming Job and Ecclesiastes. Minimalism exposes the futility, emptiness, and deception of consumerism. Consuming more of what already doesn’t make you happy will not make you happy—just ask Solomon in Ecclesiastes. “Vanity of vanities! All is vanity.” But if consumerism face-plants against the wisdom of Ecclesiastes, then minimalism does the same with the wisdom of Job. The point of Ecclesiastes and Job is the same from opposite ends: God alone is my blessedness whether I have everything or I have nothing—in him I rest satisfied (Ps. 16:11; 73:25).

2. Imitates God’s Simplicity. Minimalism even imitates—on a finite, creaturely level—the simplicity of God. The following quote may prove Mastricht (1630-1706) a minimalist long before it became trendy:

The divine simplicity teaches us to acquiesce to our lot, however simple it may be. For the more simple anything is, the more constant it is, and durable, whereas the more composite, likewise the more dissoluble and corruptible. Thus, God is most immutable because he is most simple…. When it comes to our lot, the exact same is true: the more simple, the more solid, and the more variegated from compositions by wealth, honors, friends, the more mutable, and the more you are distracted by so many objects, the more you are liable to cares and anxieties (Luke 10:41), for the more you possess, the more you can lose. It is thus on this account that we should, in godly self-sufficiency, accustom our soul to simplicity, and should substitute, for the variety of things, the one God who is most sufficient in every way for all things (Gen. 17:1), who is accordingly for us the one thing necessary (Luke 10:42). So then let us possess him as our lot, with a simple acquiescence, and other things as corollaries (Matt. 6:33), looking to the apostle, who urges this contentment (1 Tim. 6:6) and lights our way in it with his own example (Phil. 4:11-12).

Theoretical-Practical Theology, 2:152

3. Glorifies God’s All-Sufficiency for Himself and Us. Not filling our lives with distractions upon distractions, even being willing to forgo good things and comforts for the sake of the gospel and Christian love, magnifies God as our sufficiency. Pascal observed that we fill our lives with diversions and distractions to console ourselves from our miseries, and yet this is the greatest of our miseries. “I have often said that the sole cause of man’s unhappiness is that he does not know how to stay quietly in his room.” But the person who has been reconciled to God in Christ draws near to the throne of grace with their once-guilty conscience now cleansed by the once-for-all shed blood of Christ. His blood has also obtained for us the right to eat from the heavenly altar and so have our hearts strengthened by grace. “For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come” (Heb. 13:14).

4. Fits a Pilgrim Lifestyle. The letter to the Hebrews situates the church in the wilderness between redemption and consummation. The wilderness is marked by want and lack, barrenness and emptiness—a perfect place for God to test the faith of his people. But while the wilderness makes us acutely aware of what we do not have, the author of Hebrews reminds us of what we do have. Note the verb “to have” (ἔχω) bookends the rich theological core of the letter that expounds the heavenly high priesthood of Jesus Christ (4:14–10:25). That we have Jesus Christ as our high priest is the indicative (statement of fact) from which the imperatives (statement of command) arise. “We have … therefore, let us…” is the basic gospel pattern of the letter.^[2] As we reckon with our present redemptive-historical situation as pilgrims in the wilderness who are seeking a city that is to come, even as strangers and exiles on earth who are seeking a homeland and desiring a better country, that is, a heavenly one, we draw strength from knowing that we already possess Jesus Christ as our high priest who bears our names on his heart in heaven before the Father, unashamed to call us his brothers. Though I may not have many comforts or much security and my possessions and freedom may even be taken from me (Heb. 10:32ff.), I have him, and because I have him, I can persevere and will one day arrive on the shores of that longed-for heavenly country where he is. If minimalism may be understood as foregoing earthly pleasures for heavenly rewards, a kind of transcending of the temporal sphere, then Moses would be a minimalist: “By faith Moses, when he was grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin” (11:24-25). This kind of minimalism fits our identity as a pilgrim people. 

5. Promotes Prayer. Luke reminds us that Jesus frequently withdrew to the wilderness to pray (5:16) and Mark tells us that Jesus rose early in the morning, while it was still dark, left the house and went off to a solitary place to pray (1:35). While there is much more to this, we can at least see that removing distractions and quieting ourselves before God promotes and prioritizes prayer in our lives—something all-too elusive in our distracted age.

6. Boosts Productivity, Improves Organization and Reduces Stress. Practically, minimalism will make you more productive, which is good and desirable as a means to honor God in the stewardship of your time. As a matter of fact, a clean, organized desk that is used not as an additional bookshelf but as a workstation will probably speed up your sermon prep, keep your mind focused on the task at-hand so you can think more deeply about it, and make your study overall more efficient. Check out Matt Perman’s How to Set Up Your Desk: A Guide to Fixing a (Surprisingly) Overlooked Productivity Problem.

Unmasking Minimalism

So minimalism has its benefits, but as a messiah who will make us blessed, it must be wholeheartedly cast into the fire. Minimalism is the same captor as consumerism, but in a different guise. Both enslave us to ourselves. Both make self-realization the path of happiness. Both seek fulfillment in the creation apart from the Creator. Neither can deal with the source of our misery: our sin that has alienated us from the God who is forever blessed and the source of all blessedness. External delights or internal tranquility is proclaimed as that which will make you happy and blessed, but neither can make you right with God who created you for himself. 

Furthermore, minimalism cannot be absolute since it can only thrive in the wake of the exhaustion of consumerism. Minimalism presents itself as our savior from consumerism. The hammock allures the man exhausted from the hunt. Minimalism realizes the misery that possessing and pursuing more things brings, but instead of turning to the one thing that can satisfy and give you rest, God himself, it turns to an abstract principle of renunciation. It addresses the symptoms, but not the disease; in fact, it has no intention of ever healing you. 

The True Messiah: Mastricht contra Minimalism

Neither consumerism nor minimalism can make us happy. When either is raised to messianic proportions, their disciples are left dry and doomed. But there is a tertium quid (a third option) that only the Christian can see. Mastricht is again our guide:

Epicurus sought blessedness either in external and carnal delights, or in inner tranquility of soul, or in both at once; Muhammad sought it in all sorts of external delights; and neither of the two sought it in the possession, communion, enjoyment, and glorification of God. By that fact neither acknowledges that God is sufficient to make him blessed, nor consequently that God himself is blessed.

Theoretical-Practical Theology, 2:491

There is nothing new under the sun. Minimalism is as ancient a lifestyle as any, and God himself always remains the answer. Consumerists and minimalists will always be restless until they rest in God. Blessedness, happiness, satisfaction, fullness are to the world as mythical as Atlantis or the Holy Grail or the fountain of youth, for they are not found on earth, but with God. Although the distance between God and us is infinite, we can enjoy him as our blessedness and reward because he has voluntarily condescended to us by way of covenant (WCF 7.1). “I will be your God and you will be my people” is the joyful chorus of Scripture.

“Blessed are the people whose God is the LORD!”

Psalm 144:15

Furthermore, as Mastricht observes, “[The blessedness of God] convinces us that the blessedness of the rational creature is possible, because not only is God most blessed, and thus able to communicate his blessedness, but he has also endued rational creatures with an appetite for blessedness, and certainly he did not do so in vain (Ps. 4:6)” (Theoretical-Practical Theology, 2:493). Whether we possess everything according to the wisdom of consumerism or nothing according to the wisdom of minimalism, we will always feel our extreme misery as long as we are destitute of God and are the enemies of him who is the source of all joy (Isa. 59:2; Eph. 2:12). 

Where, then, can I find true happiness? Mastricht steers us in the right direction: 

(a) in union or possession of the most blessed one (Ps. 73:25; 16:5; 33:12; 144:15);

(b) in communion with God (1 John 1:3; 2 Cor. 13:14), by which he is with us, in us, for us, and, as our God, devotes himself and all his attributes to us and to our blessing (Rom. 8:32);

(c) in the enjoyment of God, which embraces, first, the perfect knowledge (and as it were the vision) of God (John 17:3; 1 Cor. 13:12; Job 19:26-27), and of our blessedness as well, in union and communion with God (2 Cor. 3:18; 4:6), and second, a perfect repose and joy arising from this union and communion, together with our knowledge of it, that is, a perfect fulness of joys and pleasures with God’s face, and at his right hand (Ps. 16:11; 1 Cor. 2:9; Ps. 84:11);

(d) in the sweetest glorification of God (Isa. 6:3; Rev. 4:8, 10-11; 5:9ff.). 

Theoretical-Practical Theology, 2:493

If that is where true happiness is found, then how do I make it my own? Mastricht opens up God’s Word and exhorts us to… 

Pursue reconciliation with God with all our effort, through faith in the blood of the Mediator (2 Cor. 5:19-20; Col. 1:20), that we may be freed from all evil, which is the first part of blessedness.

Strive for union with Christ, that at the same time we may be united with God, in which is the foundation of blessedness for all, for blessedness comes through faith (Phil. 3:9; John 14:6).

Strive with all our effort for uniformity with God and with his will (Rev. 2:6; Ps. 40:8), which best procures his friendship.

Yield ourselves in covenant with God by receiving the conditions of the covenant offered to us, that namely God should become our God (Gen. 17:1), in which every point of our blessedness consists (Ps. 33:12).

Walk with God in the light, and thus we will have communion with him (1 John 1:3, 6-7).

Zealously employ those means by which we are brought closer to God: faith, hope, love, repentance, prayers, and the duties of public and private worship (James 4:8).

Theoretical-Practical Theology, 2:494

God has promised in his covenant of grace, “I will be your God and you will be my people.” He has fulfilled his promise in his Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. When God is our God, when he is our chosen portion and cup, then out of the overflow of our heart, our mouth speaks, “The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance” (Ps. 16:6).

Whether I have much or whether I have little, I rest in him. The one who rests in God and walks in his ways “is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither” (Ps. 1:3).

Now come diseases, come poverty, persecution, death, and any great evil, they will say, “If God be for us, who can be against us?” (Rom. 8:31). Those things may take away the verdure and the foliage of blessedness (which [we] possess in hope and in some way in reality), yet they will never rip out root and trunk. [We] will exult in triumph with the apostle, “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? … I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor anything, shall separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 8:35, 38-39).

Theoretical-Practical Theology, 2:495

Only the Christian can taunt disease, poverty, persecution and death—powers before which consumerism and minimalism cower—because only the Christian has Christ. By grace alone his perfect satisfaction, righteousness, and holiness has been credited to me as if I had never sinned nor been a sinner, and as if I had been as perfectly obedient as Christ was obedient for me (Heidelberg Catechism 60).

The source of our misery has been fully dealt with in Christ our Savior. He alone brings us into God’s presence where there is fullness of joy, even to a place of sonship at his right hand where there are pleasures forevermore.

^[1] Michael W. Goheen, A Light to the Nations: The Missional Church and the Biblical Story (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2011), 14.

^[2] The middle section of Hebrews begins with 4:14-16, “Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but [we do have] one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” The main point of the section is summarized in 8:1-2, “Now the point in what we are saying is this: we have such a high priest, one who is seated at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in heaven, a minister in the holy places, in the true tent that the Lord set up, not man.” And the section ends with 10:19-25, “Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let ushold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.”

The Anchor of our Soul

The author of Hebrews speaks of our hope as an anchor that has dug itself deep into heavenly ground behind the curtain where Christ has gone as our forerunner (Heb. 6:19-20). A forerunner, as Geerhardus Vos points out, is not someone who merely leads and opens access, but also anticipates in himself the enjoyment of the access that he mediates to others. In the same way the firstfruits anticipate the full harvest to come, so Christ has entered into heaven anticipating in himself the heavenly existence that awaits his church. The seismic quake of this teaching is of such magnitude for the Christian life as it breaks the richter scale of purely naturalistic thinking. It shakes us to the truth that the Christian faith is unreservedly (and unabashedly so) supernatural, for we are vitally connected in Christ to an unseen world beyond our senses. Just as an anchor descends out of sight into the depths of dark waters during a storm to hold the ship in safety, so our hope ascends out of sight into the everlasting city whose maker and builder is God. Calvin writes in his commentary on Hebrews,

There is this difference, that an anchor is cast down on the sea because there is solid ground at the bottom, but our hope rises and flies aloft because it finds nothing to stand on in this world. It cannot rely on created things, but finds rest in God alone. Just as the cable on which the anchor hangs joins the ship itself to the ground through a long dark gulf, so the truth of God is a chain for binding us to himself, so that no distance of place and no darkness may hinder us from cleaving to him. When we are bound in this way to God, even though we have to contend with continual storms, we are safe from the danger of shipwreck. That is why he says that the anchor is sure and steadfast. It is possible for an anchor to be torn out or for a cable to break or a ship to be broken in pieces by the violence of the waves. That happens on the sea. But the power of God to support us is quite different, as is also the strength of hope and the firmness of his Word.

Biblical hope is not wishful thinking that does nothing more than fuel otherworldly fantasies or provide an unhealthy escape from reality; rather, it is a dynamic link to a real heavenly world from which we draw Spiritual strength and sustenance for the present. It empowers the church not to be sluggish, but imitators of those who through faith and patience inherit the promises (Heb. 6:11-12).

Hope and Faith

Hope and faith, then, are intimately related as the author of Hebrews later makes explicit: “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Heb. 11:1). Vos explains in his sermon, Heavenly-Mindedness, “[Faith] is the organ for apprehension of unseen and future realities, giving access to and contact with another world. It is the hand stretched out through the vast distances of space and time, whereby the Christian draws to himself the things far beyond, so that they become actual to him” (Grace and Glory, 104). The great feats we read about in Hebrews 11 were only possible because of faith, through which “the powers of the higher world were placed at the disposal of those whom this world threatened to overwhelm. … The entire description rests on the basis of supernaturalism; these are the annals of grace, magnalia Christi” (Grace and Glory, 107). The apostle Paul will also at times speak of hope and faith in a similar way. “Hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience” (Rom. 8:24-25). “This light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal” (2 Cor. 4:17-18). And so “we walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Cor. 5:7).

The Ascension of Christ

The ascension of Christ into heaven as our forerunner establishes our hope, expands our worldview to what is unseen, and lifts our gaze upward to where Christ is seated at the right hand of God in power. The Heidelberg Catechism captures well this dynamic interplay between heaven and earth. In its exposition of the Apostles’ Creed, it asks, “What do we mean by saying ‘He ascended into heaven?'” (Q. 46). Answer: “That Christ, while his disciples watched, was lifted up from the earth to heaven[1] and will be there for our good[2] until he comes again to judge the living and the dead.[3]” In this answer we see reflected, first, the biblical worldview that encompasses both heaven and earth, and, second, the truth we find especially in the letter to the Hebrews that Christ ascended not for himself, but for the interest and benefit of his church. But wouldn’t it actually be better if Christ walked among us in his glorified body on earth? Well, flexing its pedagogical muscles, the Heidelberg Catechism asks the right pastoral question that naturally arises from this concern: “How does Christ’s ascension into heaven benefit us?” (Q. 49). It gives three answers.

Scripture Proofs: [1] Luke 24:50-51; Acts 1:9-11 [2] Rom. 8:34; Eph. 4:8-10; Heb. 7:23-25; 9:24 [3] Acts 1:11 [4] Rom. 8:34; 1 John 2:1 [5] John 14:2; 17:24; Eph. 2:4-6 [6] John 14:16; 2 Cor. 1:21-22; 5:5 [7] Col. 3:1-4

The author of the letter to the Hebrews makes explicit in the prologue that there is an organic progression to God’s revelation[1] and that the content and mode of God’s revelatory speech demarcates history into two comprehensive epochs: “long ago” and “these last days.” He writes, “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son” (1:1-2a). I want to consider in this article three implications of this passage for the exhortation that will come later in 6:1, “Let us leave standing the basic teaching about Christ and go on to perfection [τελειότης].” We will then try to define what exactly the author has in mind by the basic teaching and perfection.

1. God’s Revelation is Objective and Historical

First, the revelatory speech of God is an objective reality in redemptive-history that is not dependent on its subjective reception. In other words, God has spoken whether or not it is recognized and received by faith. This means that the epochal shift brought about by the speech of God in his Son is the indicative upon which the imperative of 6:1—to progress in knowledge—is grounded. The author is exhorting his readers to be up-to-date in their knowledge with respect to redemptive-history; he does not want them to be lagging behind or living according to an outmoded, antequated or obsolete redemptive-historical model (cf. 8:13). The author, then, desires his readeres to progress from the basic teaching about Christ (τῆς ἀρχῆς τοῦ Χριστοῦ λόγον) to perfection (τὴν τελειότητα) not because he is an intellectualist or committed to a Gnostic epistemology, but because it is appropriate and fitting, even demanded, with the recent advancements in redemptive-history that have taken place in Christ. To put it another way, the reason the recipients of the letter are to go on to perfection in their knowledge (imperative) is because God has definitively and objectively advanced the knowledge base of his people by a new speech in his Son (indicative). Since God has spoken in these last days in a Son, to remain knowledgeable only of what he has spoken in the past to our fathers is inadequate and antiquated in light of the objective historia salutis situation of the readers. The church is to progress along with God’s revelatory speech. When God speaks new and fresh things, the church, by a redemptive-historical necessity, must receive it and live accordingly.

2. God’s Revelation Progresses from Good to Better

Second, the nature of the progression of God’s revelatory speech is not from evil to good or from false to true, but from good to better since both find their source in God who cannot lie. The two are organically related with the former anticipating the latter, just as the old covenant anticipated the new and the Levitical priesthood anticipated the Melchizedekian. This implies that the good and better are redemptive-historically qualified. That which was good was good for a specific time in redemptive-history; it does not remain good in a timeless or generic sense. It is not as if that which is good and that which is better exist simultaneously in history as two viable options to be chosen from. Rather, that which is good grows obsolete and soon vanishes when that which is better arrives (8:13). There is no returning to what once was good when the better has come. Once the better comes, the good can no longer be faithfully appropriated.

3. God’s Revelation Constitutes Covenant Knowledge

Third, the revelatory speeches of God in history constitute the knowledge base of their respective covenants. “Revelation,” writes Vos, “is the speech of God to man. It forms one side of the covenant intercourse. … [It is] a process of fellowship between God and man.”[2] Neither the old covenant, nor the new exist apart from God speaking, and his speech is what is to be known and believed. The speech of God to our fathers by the prophets comprises the knowledge of the old covenant, while the speech of God to us by a Son comprises the knowledge of the new covenant. This is not to say there is no overlap, there is, for these two sets of knoweldge are not in antithesis to one another, but organically related. Furthermore, while the first is good, as it is temporary and anticipatory, so the second is better, as it is final and eschatological. The speech of God in his Son brought about an epochal shift from what is temporary and subeschatological to what is permanent and eschatological.

Looking at Hebrews 6:1 Directly

Coming now directly to Hebrews 6, the author begins his argument by tapping into this two-fold covenant knowledge scheme. He will carry this scheme through the entire pericope. He writes, Therefore, let us leave standing the basic teaching concerning Christ and go on to perfection” (Διὸ ἀφέντες τὸν τῆς ἀρχῆς τοῦ Χριστοῦ λόγον ἐπὶ τὴν τελειότητα φερώμεθα). The participle ἀφέντες (“leave standing”) is not to be taken in the negative sense of abandoning or forsaking something, but rather in the positive sense of progressing beyond something in the same way a builder progresses beyond the structural foundation of a house by putting up walls and a roof. Lane properly translates it as “leave standing.”[3] The author then has in mind some kind of advancement from one knowledge base to another. These two sets of knowledge are organically related in the same way the walls and roof of a house are related to the foundation. The first is spoken of as τῆς ἀρχῆς τοῦ Χριστοῦ λόγον (“the basic teaching concerning Christ”) and the second is spoken of as τὴν τελειότητα (“perfection”). The author is exhorting his readers, along with himself, to progress from the one to the other. The question then is what does the basic teaching concerning Christ and perfection refer to? Can both be subsumed under the same knowledge base—so that he has in mind a mere quantitative progression or maturity within the same set?[4] Or does the author have in mind the historical speeches of God that constitute two different knowledge bases—so that he has in mind both a qualitative and quantitative progression from one to the other? A case will be made for the latter: the author has in mind the transition from subeschatological, anticipatory old covenant knowledge to eschatological, final new covenant knowledge, which resulted from the epoch-shifting speech of God in his Son.[5] It will become evident that the elements that constitute the “basic word about Christ” can all be found in the old covenant, which were spoken in the prophets, while “perfection” consists of all new covenant-specific items, which were spoken in a Son.

What is the basic teaching concerning Christ?

Regarding the first—τῆς ἀρχῆς τοῦ Χριστοῦ λόγον—three arguments can be advanced to take it as old covenant knowledge. First, the phrase harkens back to “the basic principles of the oracles of God” (τῆς ἀρχῆς τῶν λογίων τοῦ θεοῦ) in 5:12. Schreiner, acknowledging this connection, says that this “confirms the notion that the basic principles have to do with a Christian understanding of the OT.”[6] Lane also writes, “[It] may have reference to a preliminary and insufficient teaching based upon the OT, without specific reference to Christ.”[7] This connection with 5:12 implies that the foundation, made up of repentance and faith, was something that the readers had already laid some time ago.[8] Second, the author denotes it as a foundation: “Therefore, leaving the basic [τῆς ἀρχῆς] word about Christ, let us go on to perfection, not laying again the foundation (θεμέλιος) of repentance away from dead works and faith toward God” (6:1). Earlier in 1:10 the author brought together ἀρχή and θεμελιος in quoting Psalm 102:25, “You, Lord, laid the foundation [θεμελιος] of the earth in the beginning [τῆς ἀρχῆς].” The two words appear also to complement one another here in 6:1. Third, and building upon the previous point, the items that constitute the foundation—repentance and faith—are both explicitly found in the Old Testament (cf. Heb. 11). Furthermore, the teaching (διδαχή) in 6:2, which is either conjoined with or in appositional relationship to the foundation, is also found in the Old Testament: “washings [βαπτισμῶν], the laying on of hands, the resurrection of the dead, and eternal judgment.” Before looking at the second heading, a possible objection should be answered. Does not the fact that the author speaks of the basic word as being about Christ exclude an old covenant formulation? While much can be said in answer to this, Acts 18:24-28 may be most helpful. There we read that Apollos’ knowledge had not progressed beyond John the Baptist (his knowledge was not redemptive-historically up-to-date). Not that he rejected the further redemptive-historical developments, but word of them had not yet reached him. Nevertheless, we read that he still “taught accurately the things concerning Jesus” (18:25). Thus, consistent with Jesus’ own words in Luke 24:18, the knowledge pertaining to the old covenant was about him. While this knowledge will be supplemented and heightened by the revelation belonging to the new covenant, it is still true and accurate—it is still good. The old is not in antithesis to the new so that to move from the one to the other is the equivalence of moving from what is evil to what is good. Rather, the new organically develops out of the old in the same way a shadow gives way to its substance or as a promise turns into fulfillment or as a type is superseded by its antitype—in all of these cases the former is good, while the latter is better. This objection, therefore, actually adds to the redemptive-historical argument being made: the contrast is not between what is evil and good, false and true, unbelief and belief, but between old covenant belief that is good and new covenant belief that is better. In the same way milk is good, even necessary, for a specific time in the life of a person, solid food is better as it supersedes an all-milk diet and provides more wholesome nutrition for greater growth and superior strength.

What is perfection?

The second—τὴν τελειότητα—is often translated as “maturity” (ESV, NIV, NASB, etc.), but “perfection” should be preferred.[9] Lane is correct when he writes, “The problem with translating the word with ‘maturity’ is the implication that a state is being described that is achieved gradually by successive steps of development. What is described, however, is the accomplishment of God through Jesus Christ.”[10] Silva rightly observes that the author links τελος with the new covenant in a technical sense throughout the letter. This suggests an eschatological interpretation of “perfection” in terms of new covenant fulfillment. This, however, does not exclude the traditional cultic interpretation (i.e., being fit for service before God),[11] but provides “a more consistent use of the word-group in Hebrews.”[12] If this can be applied to τὴν τελειότητα in 6:1, then what the author had in mind was eschatological knowledge that belonged to the new covenant. This eschatological reading of τὴν τελειότητα may be objected to on the basis of the readers elsewhere in the letter being said to already belong to the new covenant and the age of fulfillment. How can the author exhort them to go on to perfection if they’ve already been made perfect? Silva draws a parallel with Paul’s theology to provide an answer. While Paul can make an eschatological statement regarding all Christians by referring to them as spiritual (πνευματικός; e.g., 1 Cor. 2:15), he can nevertheless “also restrict the use of the word so that it has reference to those who give proper manifestation of their spiritual status.”[13] He goes on,

For example, [Paul] hesitates to call the immature Corinthians spiritual (1 Cor. 3:1); similarly, in Galatisn 6:1 he speaks of those who are spiritual in contrast to those who are caught in a fault. Could we not argue therefore that the author of Hebrews in some contexts may restrict the meaning of perfect to those who are giving proper manifestation that they belong to the age of fulfillment? Indeed, the danger faced by the recipients of the letter was that of going back to the old, obsolete, pre-eschatological (!) covenant.[14]

In further support of an eschatological, new covenant reading of τὴν τελειότητα, we should also recognize that the items of the second list are all new covenant specific: “who have tasted the heavenly gift, and have shared in the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the powers of the age to come” (6:4-5).

Conclusion

We have made the case for a redemptive-historically sensitive reading of 6:1, which the author will carry through the entire passage of 6:1-6. In light of what has been said so far, we can paraphrase the verse as such: “Therefore, leave standing the foundational subeschatological knowledge of the old covenant, which is the product of God’s previous speech to our fathers in the prophets long ago, and let us go on to the eschatological knowledge of the new covenant, which is the product of God’s speech to us in a Son in these last days.” The progress he desires for his readers is redemptive-historical in nature. The author is urging his readers to have knowledge that is up-to-date or current with the recent developments in redemptive-history. To put it negatively, he does not want their knowledge to lag behind their present redemptive-historical situation.

[1] Geerhardus Vos, The Teaching of the Epistle to the Hebrews (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1956), 68; Idem., Biblical Theology: Old and New Testaments (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1977), 5-8. [2] Vos, The Teaching of the Epistle to the Hebrews, 68-69. [3] William L. Lane, Hebrews 1-8 (Dallas, TX: Thomas Nelson, 1991), 131. [4] Cf. Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, trans. George Musgrave Giger, ed. James T. Dennison, Jr. (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 1994), 1:48, 49, 52. [5] This is contrary to the entry for θεμέλιος in NIDNTE, which reads, “[It] evidently refers to the basic doctrines of the Christian faith. The distinction made here is between the groundwork, which every Christian has to know, and further insights that come to those who are prepared to study the Scripture in greater depth (cf. 5:11-14)” (2:432). This implies progression within the same knowledge base, instead of progression from one knowledge base into a greater, though organically related, knowledge base. [6] Thomas R. Schreiner, Commentary on Hebrews (Nashville, TN: B&H Publishing, 2015), 175. [7] Lane, Hebrews, 140. [8] See Lane, Hebrews, 131. [9] See Moises Silva, “Perfection and Eschatology in Hebrews,” WTJ 39, no. 1 (September 1976), 69n18. [10] Lane, Hebrews, 131-32. [11] See for example Geerhardus Vos, “The Priesthood of Christ in the Epistle to the Hebrews,” in The Shorter Writings of Geerhardus Vos, ed. Richard B. Gaffin, Jr. (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 1980). [12] Silva, “Perfection and Eschatology in Hebrews,” 68. [13] Ibid., 69. [14] Ibid.

There are certain passages in Scripture that effortlessly rocket our thoughts and affections into the heavenlies where Christ is. Paul’s letters are brimming with such passages: Colossians 1:15-20, Ephesians 1:3-14, 1 Corinthians 15:42-49, Philippians 3:20-21, and so on. Think also of the glorious visions of John in Revelation, such as the Lion of Judah breaking the seal of the scroll that contained God’s sovereign purposes for history, a feat which had otherwise stilled the entire cosmos (Rev. 5), or the pristine and impregnable New Jerusalem whose light outshines 10,000 suns for its lamp is the Lamb (Rev. 21). But one passage in particular that comes to mind is the epic opening of the letter to the Hebrews: Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things, through whom also he created the world. He is the radiance [ἀπαύγασμα] of the glory of God and the exact imprint [χαρακτὴρ] of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power. After making purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, having become as much superior to angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs (Heb. 1:1-4, ESV). This passage is not meant to be a fascinating cloud that we speculate about from afar, but a mighty mountain in our minds and hearts that stabilizes and secures us in all situations, so that we can hold fast our confession of Christ to the end. Calvin gets at this in his Institutes when he writes,

We are called to a knowledge of God: not that knowledge which, content with empty speculation, merely flits in the brain, but that which will be sound and fruitful if we duly perceive it, and if it takes root in the heart. For the Lord manifests himself by his powers, the force of which we feel within ourselves and the benefits of which we enjoy.

So more than just admiring this passage from a distance, we need to actually begin scaling its heights and obtain a magnificent, life-transforming vision of the One in whom God has spoken in these last days, whose blood has inaugurated a new and better covenant, whose priestly ministry on our behalf is in the heavens where he forever intercedes for us, and who has opened the way for us to worship and serve the living God. It’s not enough to know that he has done all these things; we also need to know who exactly he is that qualifies him to save to the uttermost all those who come to God through him and to assure us that his world-inaugurating ministry will not fail or falter. If you’ve ever gone mountain-climbing, a tour guide is usually helpful. One such guide for scaling Hebrews 1:1-4 is (as you might have guessed) Geerhardus Vos. While he has much to say about all four verses, we’ll only follow him over the terrain of the two phrases in the first part of verse 3: “He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature” (ESV). The article will simply organize and summarize his thoughts on pp. 80-83 in his book The Teaching of the Epistle to the Hebrews and then briefly expand his insight to bear on the teaching of the letter as a whole.

Two Possible Uses: Theological or Cosmical?

Vos begins by pointing out that the author of Hebrews has either of two uses in mind that will guide our translation and interpretation:

1. Trinitarian-Theological Use: the author represents the second Person as the effulgence of God’s glory. This use would be ontological: expressing the relation within the Godhead (ad intra).
2. Cosmical-Representation Use: the author shows how the glory of God is carried into the world of creation. This use would be economic: expressing the relation between God and the world (ad extra).

“The Radiance of the Glory of God”

Regarding the first phrase—”the radiance of the glory of God” (ESV)—there are two possible translations of the word απαύγασμα (“radiance”). When combined with the two possible uses—theological or cosmical—a 4×4 matrix of interpretation emerges:

  According to Vos, “effulgence” has stronger support.

“The Exact Imprint of his Nature”

In the second phrase—”the exact imprint of his nature” (ESV)—χαρακτὴρ (“exact imprint”) is a noun that can have either an active or passive meaning. The active meaning corresponds with the cosmical use, while the passive the trinitarian-theological. Furthermore, the passive meaning can be subdivided into either “character” or “impression.”

Evaluating the Evidence

The probability is in favor of the Trinitarian-theological use, according to Vos, which is also the traditional interpretation. Calvin, for one, takes this position (see Institutes 1.13.2).

1. The author speaks in terms of being, not in terms of the Son’s doing.
2. The words are more naturally construed in the theological sense, since “the world” is not mentioned here.
3. The Son is called the character of the divine substance—to take this cosmically would imply a communicating of the divine substance to the world, which is too pantheistic for Hebrews.

If, however, we accept the cosmical use, we still cannot get rid of the Trinitarian-theological background. We have to still ask, why is the Son a fitting image to act as seal for the world?

Vos’ Conclusion

The first phrase—“the effulgence of his glory” (Vos’ trans.)—expresses the essential unity of the Godhead by reason of the identity of the Father and the Son; we cannot think of the Son without the Father. The Son is, therefore, homoousios with the Father. The second phrase—“the very image of his substance” (Vos’ trans.)—emphasizes the result, namely, the likeness of the Son to the Father. The Son is, therefore, the monogenes of the Father.

Hebrews 1:3 and the Rest of the Letter

The ontological nature of the Son as described by these two phrases in 1:3 provides the deep theological structure upon which the entire letter to the Hebrews is constructed. It’s here the superior nature of the revelation of the Son to the prophets and angels is justified (1:1ff). It’s here the main point of the letter as it pertains to the effective and everlasting nature of Christ’s high priestly ministry on our behalf finds its foundation (8:1). It’s here the nature of the letter as a word of exhortation or warning is heightened and intensified (13:22). It’s here the New Covenant inaugurated by the Son can rightly be said to far surpass the Old Covenant given through Moses. It’s here the forgiveness of sins by the blood of Christ finds it efficacy and the believer his confidence to draw near to the throne of grace by the access obtained for him. In a word, the letter to the Hebrews states—maybe more clearly than anywhere else in Scripture—what the church has always been keen to acknowledge, namely that the fullness of salvation that we enjoy requires that our mediator be both truly God and truly man.

Heidelberg Catechism

Geerhardus Vos speaks of the Christian as “a peculiar chronological phenomenon.”[1] As is often the case with Vos, we need to reflect for a moment on what he means—especially since he’s speaking about us here. The phrase comes in his discussion on the two covenants and two worlds or ages that are spoken of in the letter to the Hebrews. We have the old covenant, which pertains to this present world or age, and the new covenant, which is co-extensive with the new world or age. That each covenant has a corresponding world should raise an important question in ours minds: If I’m a member of the new covenant by Christ’s blood, then which world do I presently live in? While this might sound like an odd question, the author of the letter provides us with a rather remarkable answer that, if understood and lived out by faith, leads to astronomically practical implications. But first the answer, then the implications.

In Contact with the World to Come

For one, he says Christians are those who “have tasted [aorist tense] … the powers of the age to come” (6:5). He speaks of the “good things to come” (9:11; 10:1) and “the world to come” (2:5), which, while future, are made present realities by the death of Christ. So also we read that believers “have come [perfect tense] to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem” (12:22). Again, this is a present reality. Think also about the well-known opening to the letter (1:1-4) in which there is a redemptive-historical transition into “these last days” because of God’s Son. In terms of both time and place, then, “believers are situated where the eschatological world [that is, the world to come] has its center.” In short, we are “eschatological creatures” (50).[2] So what can we conclude regarding the present position of the believer according to Hebrews? That we are “in actual contact with the world to come and its blessings.” That is, we “are really in vital connection with the heavenly world” (50). To illustrate: in the same way a headland projects out into the ocean, says Vos, so the heavenly world projects into our lives.

Real, Not Metaphorical, Contact

Take careful note of the words “actual” and “vital.” The author of Hebrews doesn’t speak of a hypothetical or metaphorical connection with the world to come, but one that is real and vital. This distinction is important. It’s here where I’ll sometimes hear well-meaning preachers and teachers fumble the ball. Likely with every good intention, they will encourage people to live as if they belong to the world to come, or as if they are citizens of heaven, or as if they have come to Mount Zion, or as if they have been raised with Christ to new life, etc. But what does “as if” imply? That it’s not real. But if it’s not real, if there’s no vital, living connection to these things, then what power is available to you to live this way? There isn’t any. There’s nothing to support, sustain, nurture, and grow such a life, except what you already have access to in this present world, which Hebrews makes clear is ineffectual for such a task (9:8-14). We need to say instead that because we are in real and vital contact with the world to come, the powers of the age to come are really and truly at our disposal so that we can run with endurance the race that is set before us (12:1). For it’s there that our faithful high priest, Jesus Christ, who has passed through the heavens (4:14), forever lives to intercede on our behalf (7:25) and is drawing us after himself (2:10; 12:2) by the new and living way he opened for us (10:20). It’s there we have come to share (6:4) in the very same eternal Spirit by whom Christ offered himself without blemish to God (9:14), namely, the Holy Spirit who bears witness to us (10:15). If we do not have real access to Christ and his Spirit, then every attempt to run our race will be in vain—we’ll get no further than a person tiring himself out on a treadmill. In fact, all of the exhortations that riddle the letter to the Hebrews can only be obeyed and lived out, if we are in vital connection with the powers of the age to come. In real contact with the world to come,

• we can strive to enter that rest fully and not fall by disobedience like the generation that perished in the wilderness (4:11)
• we can hold fast our confession firmly to the end no matter the opposition arrayed against us (4:14; 10:23)
• we can come boldly and confidently to the throne of grace to find mercy and grace in time of need (4:16)
• we can be imitators of those who through faith and patience inherit the promises (6:12)
• we can draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith (10:22)
• we can stir one another up to good works and love, not neglecting to meet together and encourage one another as we see the Day draw near (10:24-25)
• we can endure hard struggles with joy and acts of compassion, knowing that we have a better possession and an abiding one (10:32-34)
• we can lay aside every weight and sin which clings so closely and run with endurance the race that is set before us (12:1)
• we can embrace discipline for it is God treating us as sons and daughters and it will later yield the peaceful fruit of righteousness (12:7-11)
• we can strive for peace with everyone, and for holiness without which no one will see the Lord (12:14)
• we can be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken and so offer to God acceptable worship with reverence and awe (12:28)

This is only a sampling of the implications that Hebrews draws out for the church on the basis of our real and vital contact with the world to come.

Come, Lord Jesus

When it dawns upon our minds with Spirit-wrought conviction that God’s promises of the world to come have already been realized in part for us, then we should also have an accompanying sense of the nearness of their consummation. Vos was aware of this, and we’ll conclude with his words:

We of the present day, having lost the realism, have also lost the sense of the soonness of its culmination. To be indifferent in regard to the time of its culmination is to commit a chronological sin. The normal Christian state of mind is to pray: “Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly” (53).

[1] Geerhardus Vos, The Teaching of the Epistle to the Hebrews (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1956), 51. The rest of the quotes in this post are from this book. [2] This thought is pervasive (even central according to Vos’ Pauline Eschatology) in Paul’s theology. For example, “Our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Phil. 3:20). We are presently and really citizens of heaven. God “raised us up with [Christ] and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus” (Eph. 2:6). We are presently and really seated with Christ in the heavenly places. Christ “gave himself for our sins to deliver us from the present evil age” (Gal. 1:4). On this basis, Paul can exhort the church, “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect” (Rom. 12:2). In Vos’ words, “Christians should be fashioned according to the world to come” (51).

At points it seems that the letter to the Hebrews reveals Platonic or Middle-Platonic influence or overtones. This is especially the case with regard to what the author distinguishes as impermanent (the priestly order of Aaron; the earthly tabernacle) and permanent (the priestly order of Melchizedek; the heavenly tabernacle) as well as invisible (the heavenly world) and visible (the earthly world), which were common to Greek thought. That which is heavenly is original or substantival, while the earthly is a copy or shadow. The copy is lesser in quality and importance to the original since it only partially resembles it and is temporary. Platonism similarly divided reality into two worlds: the world of forms/ideas—which was invisible, eternal, static and higher—and the world of matter—which was visible, finite, changing, and lower. The world of matter consisted of impermanent and incomplete instantiations of the world of forms. There is, therefore, a philosophical similarity, at least materially, between the letter to the Hebrews and Platonism. Nevertheless, these two systems of thought are not to be identified for there are at least two fundamental differences between them.[1]

Hebrews’ View of History

The first difference is Hebrews’ view of history. Hebrews 1:3-4 asserts the superiority of Christ over all creation as divine and the exact imprint of God’s nature. It could be said, using Platonic categories, that Christ belongs to the world of forms. However, Christ’s involvement with the creation (the so-called world of matter) as the letter goes on to explain clearly does not agree with Platonism. The heavenly Christ was made like us in every way so that he might be tempted and perfected through suffering (Heb. 2:9-10). After his work on earth was finished he went into heaven in order to purify it, that is, to change it (Heb. 9:11ff.). While Platonism’s world of forms is static and unchanging, the invisible heavenly reality in Hebrews is changed as a result of an earthly person and his earthly work. This stands in stark contrast to Platonic idealism. By virtue of his experience on earth and his going up to change heaven, this interaction between the visible and invisible, from heaven to earth and back, moves clearly outside the bounds of Platonism.

Hebrew’s View of Materiality

The second difference is Hebrews’ view of materiality. The eschatological scenario posited throughout the letter is unmistakably Jewish-Christian. Some of these elements include: a final judgment, resurrection of the body, and a future age that is coming with a new inhabited world (Heb. 2:5; 6:1-5). This concrete and historical eschatology is incompatible with Platonic thinking, which demonizes the material. Even when the author affirms that the heavenly is superior to the earthly, that superiority is temporally qualified and not static or unchanging—it is no world of forms. Heaven is better at present because the present order of things on earth is temporary, but there is a concrete, future, earthly world that is impending. The contrast then is not between what is good and evil, but between what is good and what is better. Materiality, according to Hebrews, is not in and of itself evil.

Appropriating Platonic Categories

While the author employs categories that are associated with Platonism, these categories are subsumed and appropriated under a distinctly Christian worldview. The commandeering of categories from other systems of philosophical thought is not foreign to Scripture (e.g., the wisdom Christology of Colossians 1; the use of Stoic philosophy in Philippians 1 and Acts 17). Nor is it detrimental to Scripture’s validity or infallibility, but highlights its organic inspiration. In conveying their message, the authors of Scripture, guided by the Holy Spirit, utilized the terms, categories, philosophies, metaphors, vocabularies, styles, grammar, events, experiences, etc., that they themselves and their readers were familiar with. Nevertheless, they do not blindly or credulously adopt these categories from the surrounding world, so that there is some type of syncretism; instead, they expropriate them to bring them under a Christian worldview.[2] Truth about the person and work of Jesus Christ is exposited through these categories at times, but in ways that change them from the way they would otherwise be used in a non-Christian worldview. In the end, we can say that the letter to the Hebrews appropriates Platonic categories in order to explain the work of Christ, especially his high priestly work of inaugurating the heavenly tabernacle for service with his blood shed on earth. “Christ has entered, not into holy places made with hands, which are copies of the true things, but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God on our behalf” (Heb. 9:24).

[1] See Karen Jobes, Letters to the Church, 40, 46-48. [2] Herman Bavinck provides a general comment that helps to inform our discussion: “While the New Testament may have some words in common with Philo (et al.) and speak also of Christ as word (λόγος), image (εἰκών), effulgence (ἀπαύγασμα), son (υἱός), and God (θεός), this is as far as the agreement goes. The New Testament was written in the people’s vernacular Greek, the language which existed at the time and was spoken everywhere. It created no new language. The ideas of God assumed the “flesh” (σάρξ) of ordinary human language. But God invested those words with new meaning. There is agreement in form but the content differs” (Reformed Dogmatics, 2:268).