The Mystery of God’s Presence

Welcome back, my friends. Today we turn to Hebrews chapters 5–7, a section rich with mystery, depth, and revelation about Jesus Christ as our eternal High Priest.

I have often shared how the Lord protected me even before I believed in Him. Looking back, I can recognize moments—during my accident, and even earlier—when His presence was near though I did not yet know Him. I sometimes wonder if I was like the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, walking beside Jesus without recognizing Him until breaking the bread (Luke 24:13–35). Perhaps I, too, needed to journey farther before I understood who was walking with me.

There is a book I read long ago that claimed, “Jesus is on every page of the Bible.” As we have discovered together this year, that insight proves true. Today’s passage brings forward one of Scripture’s most intriguing figures—Melchizedek, a “mystery king” who may reflect a Christophany, a pre-incarnate appearance of Jesus. People have debated for centuries whether Melchizedek is Christ or a profound type or foreshadowing of Christ.

This is common. Many Old Testament encounters appear to be with the pre-incarnate Son of God:

• Jacob wrestling with “the Man,” yet declaring, “I have seen God face to face” (Genesis 32:24–30).
• The fourth figure in Nebuchadnezzar’s furnace, “like a son of the gods” (Daniel 3:24–25).

Some Christians identify these as Christophanies; others view them as angelic appearances. Regardless, Jesus has been active in human history long before the manger in Bethlehem (John 1:1–3; 8:58).

Jesus, the Superior High Priest

In Hebrews 5:5–6, the writer ties Jesus’ priesthood to Psalm 2:7 (“You are my Son; today I have begotten you”) and Psalm 110:4 (“You are a priest forever, in the order of Melchizedek”). These two Old Testament streams converge in Christ.

Melchizedek’s very name, from Hebrew, means “King of Righteousness,” and as king of Salem he is also “King of Peace.” (Genesis 14:18). The parallels with Jesus—the Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6)—are striking.

The writer of Hebrews points out that unlike the Levitical priests, whose ancestry determined their role, Jesus came from the tribe of Judah (Hebrews 7:14). The genealogy of Melchizedek is unknown (Hebrews 7:3), but God established Jesus’ genealogy. Both figures were appointed outside the Levitical line, which emphasized a different and superior order of priesthood.

Earthly priests were mortal. They could offer sacrifices, but they could not save. They had to enter behind the veil to atone for the sins of the people—and their own (Hebrews 5:1–3; 7:27).

But Jesus—the perfect Lamb of God (John 1:29)—is both Priest and Sacrifice. At His death, He tore the curtain in two (Matthew 27:51), granting us access to God Himself. Levitical priests served for a lifetime; Christ’s priesthood is eternal (Hebrews 7:24).

Because He lives forever, He can completely save all who come to God through Him (Hebrews 7:25).

A Shadow of the Last Supper

One reason early Christian theologians like Tertullian and Ambrose viewed Melchizedek as a Christophany is that Abraham gave him a tithe of his plunder, and Melchizedek offered him bread and wine (Genesis 14:18–20). These are the same elements Jesus used to institute the Lord’s Supper (Luke 22:19–20).
Tertullian argued that Melchizedek’s offering prefigured the Eucharist, revealing a priesthood belonging to Christ alone. (1)
Ambrose went even further, suggesting that Melchizedek’s eternal priesthood and offering of bread and wine pointed directly to Christ Himself. (2)

Whether Melchizedek is Christ appearing before Bethlehem or a divinely appointed foreshadowing, his role points to the One who would give His body and blood to save the world.

Emmanuel—God With Us

But beyond the theological depth of Melchizedek, these chapters invite us into a personal reality: Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us (Matthew 1:23). He is present in our victories and our wounds, in our quiet moments and our storms. I am learning to become more attentive to that presence—not only in miraculous moments, but in the quiet ordinary spaces of life.

Sometimes I close my eyes and picture absolute darkness, a room without a single ray of light. Then, as I focus my thoughts on Jesus, the darkness fades and the room becomes filled with radiance. I never see His form, but I feel the coldness of darkness replaced by warmth and glory (John 8:12). It centers my soul and quiets my mind—until the everyday burdens rush back in, like Peter sinking when he took his eyes off Christ (Matthew 14:30).

Still, this moment reminds me of heaven, where Jesus Himself is the light (Revelation 21:23). There, the warmth will never fade, and our attention will never drift.

The Anchor of Our Souls

Hebrews lifts our eyes to the One who is eternal—whose priesthood never ends, who never leaves us, who never again needs to ascend a cross. I have never favored crucifixes that depict Jesus still hanging on the cross. He is not there. 1 Corinthians 15:3–4 says He came down, they buried Him, and then He rose again on the third day. If you leave Him on the cross, you might as well leave Him in the tomb—but then we lose our hope.

Because He lives forever, His salvation endures forever. Our lives may drift, but if we anchor our souls to Him, we will never drift beyond His reach (Hebrews 6:19–20).

And so, whether Melchizedek is Christ Himself appearing before Bethlehem, or a profound foreshadowing of Him, the message remains the same: Jesus is the eternal High Priest, the Radiance, the King of Peace, the One who saves forever.

Tomorrow, we will read Hebrews 8-10.

Footnotes

(1) Tertullian, Against Marcion, III.9, in Ante-Nicene Fathers, Vol. 3, Ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1885).
(2) Ambrose, On the Sacraments, IV.3, in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Series II, Vol. 10, Ed. Philip Schaff and Henry Wace (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1896).