The letter of Hebrews presents a rich theology of atonement. No other book of the Bible says as much about Jesus’s sacrifice. His death on the cross serves as the final sacrifice (Heb. 10:12–14), paying the price for our sins as our propitiation (2:17). But what if this isn’t what Hebrews actually teaches? It may surprise you to learn that much recent scholarship on Hebrews argues that Jesus’s sacrifice is a heavenly sacrifice and that it refers to Jesus’s presentation of the sacrifice in the heavenly Holy of Holies. That is, after his death on the cross, Jesus was raised bodily and entered heaven to present his resurrected body to God as an atoning sacrifice. According to some, in his resurrected body, Jesus, the High Priest, presents his blood before God’s heavenly throne to atone for sin. Jesus’s death on the cross isn’t the atoning act. That act is reserved for his high priestly service in heaven. Jesus was not a priest on earth (see 8:4) but is only a priest in heaven. This newer paradigm is unsettling for those who look to Hebrews to understand the importance of Christ’s death for a doctrine of the atonement. It feels like the ground is shifting underfoot. Yet surely we don’t want to hold to traditional views simply because they are traditional. We must understand the teaching of Hebrews correctly, even if it challenges our long-held conclusions. Even so, I’m not convinced the challenges to the traditional paradigm are compelling. Hebrews does indeed teach that Jesus’s death on the cross was a sacrifice, and that Jesus did serve as a priest on earth. We can affirm these truths without denying a heavenly dimension to Jesus’s high-priestly ministry. Understanding the Current Scholarly Landscape Let’s start by sketching some aspects of recent scholarship on Hebrews. It scarcely needs to be stated that not all scholars agree, but here are some commonly discussed issues. These scholars argue that, according to Hebrews 8:4, if Jesus were on earth, he would not be a priest at all. When Hebrews talks about the earthly priesthood, it means the Levitical priesthood, in which Levites serve exclusively. However, Jesus does not come from the tribe of Levi but from the tribe of Judah. Since much of the sacrificial language in Hebrews echoes the Day of Atonement ritual from Leviticus 16—performed by Levitical priests—it’s difficult to see how Jesus could perform sacrificial duties on earth since he was from the nonpriestly tribe of Judah (see Heb. 7:14). Several scholars also argue that the death of the sacrificial victim in the Day of Atonement ritual is not the most important part of the ritual. Instead, the blood is emphasized because of its application and manipulation. In other words, the way the blood is handled after the victim’s death is central. In Hebrews, since Jesus ascends to heaven, the presentation of his blood in the heavenly Holy of Holies is where atonement is made. Atonement is located not at the cross but in heaven. Affirming Christ’s Death Is Priestly We can appreciate much in the renewed emphasis in scholarship on Jesus’s resurrection and heavenly high priesthood in Hebrews. But Christ’s glorified, heavenly high priesthood isn’t a new insight into Hebrews. Scholars such as Geerhardus Vos, Herman Bavinck, and Richard Gaffin affirm Christ’s heavenly priesthood without denying his earthly priesthood. The Reformed creeds and confessions also codified the importance of Christ’s heavenly high priesthood hundreds of years ago. So, while we affirm the heavenly high priesthood of Jesus, we must not deny the earthly priestly ministry of Jesus. Consider seven interrelated reasons for this position. 1. Centrality of Christ’s Death Christ’s death is central to the atonement theology of Hebrews (1:3; 2:14, 17; 5:7–9; 9:12–16, 26–28; 10:10; 12:2, 24; 13:20). We therefore need to keep its importance in view when Hebrews mentions Jesus’s blood. On the Day of Atonement, the bull and the lamb did not simply have some of their blood let; they were actually slaughtered (Lev. 16:11, 15). The blood in view in the Levitical system, on which Hebrews builds (see 17:11), isn’t primarily the “life force,” as some recent scholars contend, but the death of the victim. 2. Christ’s Death Is Propitious Christ’s death on the cross is an act of propitiation. The Greek term hilaskomai in Hebrews 2:17 points to the wrath-bearing nature of his substitutionary death. Christ endures a curse on the cross, bearing God’s wrath and dying (see Gal. 3:13; Heb. 12:2). Through Christ’s death, the wrath of God is satisfied, and God is propitious (or favorable) toward us. Through Christ’s death, the wrath of God is satisfied, and God is propitious (or favorable) toward us. The bodily appearance of Jesus in heaven—as One who has been perfected and bears the marks of the crucifixion—does not entirely capture the means by which propitiation was made. Propitiation requires the death of the sacrificial victim, even if the point in Hebrews 2:17 is the propitiatory aspects of Christ’s ongoing, heavenly ministry (see also 9:15–17). 3. Distinction Between Christ’s Humiliation and Exaltation We must understand the differences between Christ’s state of humiliation and his state of exaltation. Christ’s humiliation (his earthly life) involves his obedience, suffering, and subjection to death. His exaltation (his glorification) includes his resurrection, ascension, heavenly session, and future return. Reformed theology further affirms that Jesus serves as prophet, priest, and king in his humiliation and exaltation. These two states directly relate to discussions about whether Hebrews denies Jesus was a priest in his earthly life. For example, it has recently been argued that Jesus’s one offering (or sacrifice) refers to his heavenly obedience and heavenly sacrifice (10:12, 14). According to this view, Jesus is currently in heaven presenting his glorified body as a sacrifice to God. This is a category mistake, however. Hebrews 10 refers to Jesus’s perfect earthly obedience, and that obedience is a priestly obedience. Hebrews 10 does not refer to Jesus’s heavenly obedience as though that obedience were an aspect of his state of glorification. The obedience and offering of Jesus’s body were strictly on earth (vv. 5–10). The references to Christ’s offering (or sacrifice) in 7:27 and 9:26–28 are best taken as references to his earthly suffering, especially in light of the references in 9:26 to Christ’s suffering and his self-sacrifice—since again, Christ does not suffer in his glorified state. 4. Priest on Earth Hebrews does indeed teach that Christ was priest on earth. Christ’s priesthood includes both his sacrifice for sins (state of humiliation) and his present intercession (state of exaltation). Hebrews 8:4 should thus be taken not in an ultimate sense but in a comparative or specific sense, as Francis Turretin has rightly argued. Christ could not serve in the earthly sanctuary according to the Levitical law, for he was from the tribe of Judah. In this specific sense—in the sense that he serves not in the earthly sanctuary but in the heavenly sanctuary—Jesus is properly a priest only in heaven. Vos argued effectively for this position in the 20th century, adding that the death of Christ itself was a priestly act (10:10; 13:12). We are thus not faced with an either-or scenario for the timing of and location of Christ’s priesthood. Yes, Christ serves as a priest in heaven in a consummate sense, but he also served as a priest on earth, during his days of humiliation. Hebrews 5:7 even portrays Jesus’s prayers as priestly service, amid a passage that recalls Christ’s representative, priestly suffering while on earth (vv. 8–9). Simply put, the death of Christ was a priestly act, and this occurred on earth. 5. Melchizedekian Priest Christ’s priesthood is not a Levitical priesthood but a Melchizedekian priesthood. Though both priesthoods contain overlapping functions, they are distinct. To read what God requires of the Levitical priesthood into Christ’s Melchizedekian priesthood is problematic. Therefore, it’s no problem to say that Christ served as a priest even though he was not from the tribe of Levi. The Melchizedekian priesthood preceded and has priority over the Levitical priesthood. The Aaronic-Levitical priesthood was instituted with the law of Moses and “expired” when the law of Moses was fulfilled. In contrast, the Melchizedekian priesthood was in effect prior to the law of Moses and persists beyond the fulfillment of the law of Moses. Christ serves most fully as the Melchizedekian high priest in heaven (Ps. 110:4), but this need not preclude that Christ, descended from Judah, also served as a priest while on earth (as did Melchizedek himself). 6. Word-Concept Fallacy The word-concept distinction is also important when considering whether Christ was a priest on earth. Often, a theological term we use describes a concept in a text, even where that specific theological term is not used. Christ’s priesthood (as part of his threefold office of prophet, priest, and king) is amply attested throughout Scripture, even though the term “priest” is rarely used explicitly for Jesus. The church historically has not been limited to texts where the term “priest” is used to find priestly actions of Jesus. The obedience and offering of Jesus’s body were strictly on earth. The church fathers frequently speak of Christ as a priest during his days of humiliation, including Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, Tertullian, and Athanasius. It’s therefore not a problem that in Hebrews the term “priest” is reserved for Christ’s heavenly ministry. His earthly ministry is nevertheless described in priestly ways. 7. Collective Witness of the New Testament Hebrews’s distinctive testimony about Christ’s priesthood does not conflict with other New Testament witnesses. Its emphasis on the heavenly work of Christ is important and necessary. Even so, the New Testament is a diverse yet unified set of writings, and the New Testament authors’ voices are stereophonic. Elsewhere in the New Testament, the death of Christ is central (as is his resurrection and ascension), and if we end up with an interpretation of Hebrews that is one-sided against the view that Christ’s death is central to atonement, then we need to reassess our interpretation. Good News for Us These discussions about Hebrews can easily become complicated, but many of the newer scholarly perspectives are not entirely new. They’re similar to perspectives from the past that have been found wanting for exegetical and theological reasons. Reading exegetically-informed historical theology is often helpful on this issue. All exegesis is inherently theological, and the better our systematic understanding of all of Scripture is, the better we will understand specific texts. The time-tested categories of Jesus’s humiliation and exaltation, coupled with his threefold office, are biblical ways to think about the priesthood of Christ in Hebrews. Hebrews’s teaching about Jesus’s priesthood, both on earth and in heaven, is good news for us today. Not only has Jesus offered himself as the final sacrifice on the cross, but he also continues to intercede for us in heaven, as our high priestly anchor behind the veil (6:19–20).

No technology is value-neutral. Each comes with a set of unique suggestions. The technology of birth control suggests that sex and procreation aren’t necessarily connected. The technology of smartphones and social media suggest that all of life can be documented, curated, and broadcast to an audience. The technology of noise-canceling headphones suggests that all interruptions can be eliminated. Christians need wisdom to discern what any given technology suggests, what’s good and bad about those suggestions, and how we might use the technology for God’s glory. One of the most powerful technologies mankind has ever created is generative AI. What are some of its suggestions? 1. Speed AI products promise, “Do more and do it faster.” Many of the most enthusiastic supporters of AI point to how this technology may be able to do what was previously impossible—cure cancer, for example—mostly because of the sheer speed at which it works. AI programs never sleep, never need breaks, and can scale at mind-boggling levels of computational power. Less dramatically, AI’s speed promises to reduce the workload of knowledge workers by making them more productive. Only, that isn’t what is happening. In February, Harvard Business Review published a study of 200 employees from an American company over eight months. They found that “AI tools didn’t reduce work, they consistently intensified it.” The employees “worked at a faster pace, took on a broader scope of tasks, and extended work into more hours of the day, often without being asked to do so.” Over time, this frenetic pace risks creating “cognitive fatigue, burnout, and weakened decision-making.” Christians need wisdom to discern what any given technology suggests and how we might use the technology for God’s glory. In Byung-Chul Han’s provocative little book The Burnout Society, he says our life used to be defined by the word should, as in an authority telling us what we must do. But now it’s defined by the word can. “You can be anyone you want to be!” Should implies limits, but can is boundless because you always can do more. But this limitless freedom, Han argues, creates a society of depression and burnout. Han writes, “The complaint of the depressive individual, ‘Nothing is possible,’ can only occur in a society that thinks, ‘Nothing is impossible.’” The suggestion of AI technology comes close to whispering to us, “Nothing is impossible; there are no limits.” But human nature has limits. As they use AI, wisdom-seeking Christians shouldn’t ask “How can I produce as much as possible?” They should rather ask, “How will I use this in a way that corresponds with my creaturely limits?” 2. Simulation Last year, the Chicago Sun-Times published a summer reading list. But people quickly discovered that many of the books listed didn’t exist. The article’s author used AI to generate the list, and the AI hallucinated books into existence. This felt like an ominous warning: How many journalists aren’t writing anything other than a ChatGPT prompt? It used to be that AI-generated images were easy to detect, but no longer. AI-rendered video, audio, images, and text are improving every day. A near-term future is realistic where most content on the internet is AI-made simulation rather than the work of humans. One suggestion that comes with generative AI is an epistemological upheaval. In a world where nearly all our information comes via digital communications, how do we know if what we’re seeing, hearing, or reading is real? A Christian seeking wisdom in an AI-rendered, screen-based world will have to become much more skeptical of digital evidence and more dependent on tangible, embodied life. 3. Slop Imagine that no matter how many Doritos you ate, you never felt full. And then imagine you could eat Doritos just by looking at them. And then imagine someone followed you around everywhere you went with an infinite supply of Doritos. What would happen to your health? Fortunately, this isn’t how junk food works, Hank Green and Cal Newport explain, but it is how junk information works. Our attention is precious but easily hijacked by what’s outrageous, provocative, and bizarre. Thankfully, real life only has so many strange and spectacular things. But what if you aren’t limited to reality? What if you can generate an infinite supply of anything imaginable at the snap of your fingers? The result is an internet flooded with slop: zany, infuriating, perverse, dreamlike hallucinations—an infinite permutation of trainwrecks to grab gawking eyeballs. We’ll know it isn’t good for us, but the Doritos taste too good. We become what we behold. But what will happen if the majority of what we behold is meaningless? The wise Christian using AI will strive to develop a level of aesthetic scrutiny that avoids brain-rotting content and focuses on what’s nourishing and true. He’ll set up boundaries to avoid scrolling himself to death. 4. Sycophancy AI is designed to be helpful—so helpful that users come back and use it again. Because of this “helpfulness” orientation, AI tends to be effusive in praise, flattery, and agreement, even if you’re wrong. It so wants to give you an answer to your prompt that it’ll deliver half-truths or iffy solutions rather than simply say, “I can’t help you on this.” This is referred to as AI sycophancy, the manner in which chatbots prioritize helpfulness over factualness. AI so wants to give you an answer to your prompt that it’ll deliver half-truths or iffy solutions rather than simply say, ‘I can’t help you on this.’ This orientation often reinforces your incorrect biases. For example, if you’re in a feud with a friend and upload your email exchange to ChatGPT, asking it to tell you who is right, it’ll almost certainly side with you. AI will follow your lead, biases, and what it perceives to be your intent, sometimes to an absurd extent. In time, some users develop extreme bonds with their always-affirming chatbots. This is called “AI psychosis,” where individuals come to believe they are in love with their chatbots, are communing with spiritual entities, or need to harm others or take their own lives because their AI companions encouraged it. Wise Christians using AI will realize its tendency toward sycophancy and won’t use it like a therapist or objective arbiter of reality but more like a calculator with limited technical applications. 5. Sloth Most AI products market themselves as saving you from what you don’t like. Don’t like writing a weekly email? Correcting a junior software designer’s code? Struggling through writer’s block? AI can deal with that. But Wyatt Graham helpfully draws our attention to a maxim for our AI age: “Automate only the skills you’re willing to lose.” When you were a child, you probably remembered all your friends’ phone numbers. Do you now? Unlikely. You have a phone that remembers them. That was a skill most of us deemed relatively unimportant. We should be cautious about what we automate. Skills you don’t use, you lose. If you use AI to write the first draft of a manuscript or put together a sales pitch, in time you may find you can’t perform these tasks without AI’s help. Thus, your creativity will never rise higher than the algorithmic average these tools offer. Wise Christians using AI will carefully consider which skills they’re prepared to let atrophy, which skills are essential to their humanity, and which skills make their work and life enriching (even if at times tedious and difficult). Positive Suggestions Too I’ve highlighted the negative suggestions AI makes, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t positive suggestions too. AI suggests new modes of creativity, experimentation, collaboration, and entrepreneurship that have great potential to enrich life. The potential benefits are real and shouldn’t be discounted, even by the most cautious critics. But do AI’s positive suggestions outweigh or sufficiently mitigate the negative ones I highlighted above? That’s a question of wisdom—something we’ll all need more of than ever as this rapid technological revolution unfolds.

Personal encounters with Jesus, much like Nathanael's transformative meeting, can lead loved ones to faith.

Let this be your invitation to spend a few quiet moments with the Lord each day in May.

Perhaps you find yourself praying small requests, because then God is more likely to answer. Jeremiah 33:3 encourages us not to limit God’s power to the extent of what we understand. God’s power far exceeds what we know.