Hebrews 9:15–17

Hebrews 9:15 — The Mediator and the Logic of Redemption

The opening phrase "for this reason" (Greek: kai dia touto) anchors verse 15 to the immediately preceding argument (vv. 11–14), where the author has established that Christ entered the true heavenly sanctuary with His own blood, obtaining "eternal redemption." Now the author draws out the covenantal consequence: because Christ's self-offering achieves what the blood of bulls and goats never could, He is uniquely qualified to be the mesitēs — the mediator — of a "new covenant" (diathēkēs kainēs).

The word mesitēs (mediator) is deeply loaded. In Greco-Roman legal usage it denoted a guarantor who stands between two parties to ensure a transaction holds. But here it carries far more: Christ does not merely broker an agreement between God and humanity — He is simultaneously the offerer, the offering, and now the Testator. His mediation is total self-donation.

The phrase "redemption of the transgressions that were under the first covenant" is precise and important. The Levitical sacrifices did not actually remit sin in the fullest sense; they covered it provisionally, looking forward to the one sacrifice that would. The author implies that Israel's entire history of ritual atonement was running on a kind of divine credit, a promissory economy underwritten by the one true sacrifice that had yet to occur. Christ's death therefore redeems retroactively — it reaches back across all of salvation history. This is why the Church teaches that the saints of the Old Testament were saved by the same Christ, though they lived before His historical death (cf. CCC 63, 522).

The inheritance promised to "those who have been called" (hoi keklēmenoi) is "eternal" (aiōniou klēronomias). The vocabulary shifts from priestly sacrifice to testamentary gift. The called are not wage-earners who merit the inheritance by performance; they are heirs who receive what the Testator chose to give them by an act of free, loving will. The echo of Abraham's call (Genesis 12; Hebrews 11:8) is deliberate: the Church is the community of the truly "called," who receive in fullness what Abraham grasped in hope.

Hebrews 9:16 — The Double Meaning of Diathēkē

Here the argument pivots on the Greek word diathēkē, which the Septuagint used to translate the Hebrew berît (covenant), but which in ordinary Greek legal usage meant a "last will and testament." The author exploits this semantic range with theological precision. A diathēkē in the testamentary sense requires the death of the one who made it (diathemenou) — the testator. While the testator lives, the will is merely a declaration of intent; it becomes operative, irrevocable, and binding only upon his death.

This is not merely a rhetorical illustration borrowed from Roman law. The author is making an ontological claim: the New Covenant is, by its very nature, a testamentary gift from God, not a bilateral contract between equals. God gives; humanity receives. The asymmetry is total. Christ is not signing a mutual agreement — He is bequeathing Himself and all His merits to His heirs.

Hebrews 9:17 — Death Activates the Testament

Verse 17 reinforces the legal logic: the will is bebaia — firm, guaranteed, legally enforceable — only upon death, and is "never in force" (mēpote ischyei) while the testator lives. The repetition is deliberate emphasis. The author wants no ambiguity: without the Cross, the promise remains suspended. The Incarnation itself, though wondrously inaugurating the new age, does not yet open the inheritance. It is the death — and through it, the resurrection and glorification of Christ — that makes the transfer of eternal life to humanity both legally effective and actually accomplished.

Typological Sense

Typologically, the Mosaic covenant ratified by blood (Exodus 24:6–8) is the shadow of which Christ's blood is the substance. As Moses sprinkled blood on the people saying "This is the blood of the covenant," so Christ at the Last Supper declares, "This is my blood of the covenant" (Mark 14:24) — words that now ring with this testamentary depth. Every Mass re-presents the death by which the testament was ratified and through which the inheritance — communion with the Triune God — is actively dispensed to the heirs.

Catholic tradition illuminates this passage with particular richness at three levels.

The Retroactive Power of Christ's Sacrifice. The Catechism teaches that "the cross is the unique sacrifice of Christ, the 'one mediator between God and men'" (CCC 1480) and that this sacrifice reaches backward as well as forward in history. The Council of Trent (Session VI, Decree on Justification) affirmed that the merits of Christ's Passion are applied to souls across all ages. Augustine recognized this in De Trinitate (IV.14): the one sacrifice of Christ is both temporal (occurring at Calvary) and eternal in its efficacy.

Christ as Both Testator and Beneficiary's Guarantor. John Chrysostom (Homilies on Hebrews, Homily 16) marveled at the paradox: "He who made the testament died, and He who died rose again, and is Himself the executor of His own testament." This observation is theologically decisive for Catholic soteriology — Christ does not merely die and disappear; His resurrection means He is simultaneously the one who died to validate the will and the living Lord who now administers the inheritance through the Church and her sacraments.

The Eucharist as Testamentary Dispensation. Perhaps most distinctively Catholic is the connection to the Eucharist. The Second Vatican Council (Sacrosanctum Concilium 47) taught that Christ at the Last Supper "instituted the eucharistic sacrifice of his body and blood… in order to perpetuate the sacrifice of the cross." Every Eucharist is the moment when the "called" heirs receive their portion of the eternal inheritance — not symbolically, but really — because the Testator's death is re-presented and its fruits dispensed. Thomas Aquinas (Summa Theologiae III, q. 79, a. 1) taught that the Eucharist confers the effect of the Passion upon those who receive it worthily. This passage from Hebrews is the deep biblical grammar underlying that teaching.

For contemporary Catholics, this passage dismantles two pervasive misunderstandings about the Christian life. The first is the subtle moralism that treats salvation as something earned — a covenant between equals where God rewards good performance. Hebrews 9:15–17 insists we are heirs, not wage-earners. We receive an inheritance we could never accumulate on our own. This should profoundly reshape how Catholics approach the sacraments, particularly the Eucharist: we come not as those presenting credentials, but as beneficiaries claiming what has already been willed to us by a Testator who loved us enough to die.

The second misunderstanding is treating the Mass as a mere commemoration. This passage clarifies that the Mass is the living point at which Christ's death — the very act that ratified the New Covenant testament — is made present and its fruits applied. When Catholics approach the altar each Sunday, they are, in a real sense, receiving their inheritance. This should convert passive attendance into expectant, grateful reception. Practically: come to Mass asking not "what will I get out of this?" but "what has the Testator willed to give me today?" — and then receive it consciously, in faith.