Hebrews Chapter 2
Jesus, Our Elder Brother
A. Therefore: Because of the Superiority of Jesus to the Angels, We Must Pay Attention to Him
Hebrews 2:1 — “Therefore we must give the more earnest heed to the things we have heard, lest we drift away.” (NKJV)
1. “Therefore we must give the more earnest heed...”
The “therefore” connects all of chapter 1 with this call to action. The exaltation of Christ—His deity, enthronement, and superiority over angels—is not academic; it demands a response. The proper response is to give “more earnest heed” to what we’ve heard, meaning to focus intently, obey fully, and value what Christ has said above all else. The Greek grammar expresses urgency and necessity—this is not optional advice but a spiritual imperative. The recipients were Jewish Christians under pressure to return to Judaism; neglecting the gospel would not be neutral—it would lead to regression.
2. “Lest we drift away...”
This warning paints the picture of a ship that slips its moorings and slowly, silently drifts into open water. The Greek word pararrhyein suggests a gradual, almost imperceptible slide. You do not have to attack the gospel to fall away from it—you simply have to ignore it. Drifting requires no effort. It is the result of inaction. The church is not warned here against deliberate rejection but against passive neglect. Departure from Christ often begins not with defiance but with distraction. Over time, the heart grows cold, and the anchor slips.
Illustrations and Implications
This is similar to the person who asks, “What must I do to be lost?” The answer: nothing. Just remain passive. The enemy of the gospel often isn't hostility—it’s complacency. Even a minor leak, left unchecked, will sink the strongest vessel. The application is that believers must cultivate a life of deliberate pursuit after Christ. We don’t “coast” into maturity. We must fix our minds and affections on Him, lest the tides of the world, the flesh, and the devil carry us away. Griffith Thomas notes that Christ must be both our anchor (holding us to truth) and our rudder (guiding our direction). Remove either, and drifting is inevitable.
Hebrews 2:2–4 (NKJV):
“For if the word spoken through angels proved steadfast, and every transgression and disobedience received a just reward,
how shall we escape if we neglect so great a salvation,
which at the first began to be spoken by the Lord, and was confirmed to us by those who heard Him,
God also bearing witness both with signs and wonders, with various miracles, and gifts of the Holy Spirit, according to His own will?”
1. “The word spoken through angels” — The Mosaic Law and its authority
This phrase refers to the Mosaic Law, which Scripture records as having been mediated by angels. Acts 7:53 says, “who have received the law by the direction of angels and have not kept it.” Galatians 3:19 confirms, “It was appointed through angels by the hand of a mediator.” Deuteronomy 33:2 speaks of the Lord coming “with ten thousands of saints,” which early Jewish tradition understood to refer to angelic beings. Josephus also affirmed this tradition in his historical works. The author of Hebrews appeals to a shared understanding among his Jewish-Christian readers: the Law, revered and binding, came through exalted spiritual messengers. And yet, that message brought judgment for every transgression and disobedience.
2. “Proved steadfast, and every transgression and disobedience received a just reward” — The law was not only authoritative, it was judicial
The Mosaic Law was rigid. Violations of its precepts brought real consequences. God enforced it with precision. Transgression refers to the act of overstepping a known boundary, while disobedience refers to the refusal to hear or heed. Every violation under the Law was addressed, either through punishment or required sacrifice. This verse affirms that God is just. He doesn’t issue commands without consequence. So then, if this strict enforcement applied to the Law delivered through angels, how much more weight does the gospel carry, which was delivered not by messengers but by the divine Son Himself?
3. “How shall we escape if we neglect so great a salvation?” — A rhetorical question with eternal implications
This is one of the most sobering warnings in the New Testament. The question is not directed at unbelievers only. It is a word to professing Christians—specifically, Jewish believers tempted to revert to the old system. The danger is not open rebellion or denial, but neglect. The Greek word amelesantes (neglect) is the same used in Matthew 22:5 to describe those who "made light of" the wedding invitation. This is not an act of violence against the gospel—but one of apathy. Salvation is not something to be trifled with or postponed. To neglect it is to treat it as unworthy of serious attention.
Griffith Thomas rightly notes that the phrase “so great salvation” mirrors John 3:16 in its use of “so”—it speaks of something immeasurable, divine, and full of grace. Our salvation is great because of the One who secured it, the cost He paid, and the penalty it rescues us from. The problem for many professing Christians is they never see salvation as a rescue. They view it as receiving spiritual benefits, not as being delivered from wrath, judgment, and hell. That casual view leads to spiritual carelessness and compromise.
4. “Which at the first began to be spoken by the Lord, and was confirmed to us by those who heard Him” — The gospel message came from Christ Himself
Jesus inaugurated the gospel. As stated in Mark 1:14–15, “Jesus came to Galilee, preaching the gospel of the kingdom of God, and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the gospel.’” The writer of Hebrews places the original proclamation of salvation directly in the mouth of Christ. This stands in contrast to the Law, which came through intermediaries.
The second generation of hearers—those “who heard Him”—were the apostles and firsthand witnesses. The writer includes himself among the next generation, saying the message “was confirmed to us,” indicating he did not hear Jesus personally but received the gospel through apostolic witness. This supports the idea that Paul was likely not the author, since Paul repeatedly emphasized receiving the gospel directly from Christ (Galatians 1:12). However, the main point is not about authorship—it is that the message of salvation came with full apostolic and divine authentication.
5. “God also bearing witness both with signs and wonders, with various miracles, and gifts of the Holy Spirit” — Divine confirmation of the message
The testimony of the apostles was not mere hearsay. It was confirmed by God through supernatural means. Signs and wonders are terms frequently paired in Scripture to describe miracles that validate divine authority. The word “signs” emphasizes their purpose—to point to divine truth. “Wonders” refers to the awe they produce. “Various miracles” (dunameis) highlights the power of God breaking into time and space.
Additionally, God confirmed the message with “gifts of the Holy Spirit.” The Greek word here for “gifts” is merismois—distributions. This refers to the diverse spiritual gifts poured out on the early church (cf. 1 Corinthians 12:4–11). These were not manipulated or manufactured—they came “according to His own will.” That phrase is vital. The miracles and gifts were not under human control. They did not respond to emotion or ritual but to the sovereign will of God. This guards against both charismatic excess and cessationist denial.
Jesus said in Mark 16:17–18, “And these signs will follow those who believe: In My name they will cast out demons; they will speak with new tongues… they will lay hands on the sick, and they will recover.” Miracles were never the goal—they were the confirmation. And they remain at God’s discretion, not man’s demand.
Conclusion and Implication
The warning of Hebrews 2:2–4 is not merely historical; it is doctrinally loaded and urgently applicable. If God did not overlook violations of the Mosaic Law—how shall anyone escape if they ignore, postpone, or treat lightly the gospel of His Son? The message of Christ is infinitely superior because it was proclaimed by a greater messenger, sealed with greater promises, and authenticated by greater miracles. To treat it casually is to invite judgment—not necessarily eternal condemnation for the believer, but certainly loss of reward, fellowship, and effectiveness. For the unbeliever, the warning points to eternal consequences. The only safe response is urgent, heartfelt, continual commitment to the Lord Jesus Christ. To neglect Him is to drift, and to drift is to risk ruin.
B. The Glorious Humanity of Jesus Christ
Hebrews 2:5–8a — “For He has not put the world to come, of which we speak, in subjection to angels. But one testified in a certain place, saying:
‘What is man that You are mindful of him,
Or the son of man that You take care of him?
You have made him a little lower than the angels;
You have crowned him with glory and honor,
And set him over the works of Your hands.
You have put all things in subjection under his feet.’
For in that He put all in subjection under him, He left nothing that is not put under him.” (NKJV)
This portion begins a new focus in the epistle: the humanity of Jesus Christ. Chapter 1 established His deity and exaltation above the angels; now the writer shows that this same Jesus also took on full humanity. The proof comes from Psalm 8:4–6, a passage that reflects on God’s design for mankind, especially in relation to dominion and dignity.
The author begins by stating that God has not placed “the world to come” under the authority of angels. This future world, which likely refers to the millennial kingdom and ultimately the new heavens and new earth, is not under the administration of angels. Genesis 1:26–28 shows that God originally gave dominion to mankind: “Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness; let them have dominion…” Angels were never given that commission. In fact, angels are ministering spirits (Hebrews 1:14), not ruling agents. The divine intention was always that man would reign over creation.
Quoting Psalm 8, the writer acknowledges the wonder of God's mindfulness toward frail humanity. “What is man… or the son of man…?” The psalm reflects awe that God would crown weak, mortal humans with glory and honor. Though made a little lower than the angels in rank and ability, man was given dominion and placed “over the works of [God’s] hands.” Everything was to be under man’s authority.
This dominion was part of man’s original purpose, but it was lost through the Fall. Yet verse 8 clarifies that God’s plan has not changed: “He left nothing that is not put under him.” The Greek phrasing emphasizes absolute subjection. The intention is clear: humanity, not angels, is meant to govern the created order under God’s sovereign rule.
The passage takes a turn in verse 8b–9. The writer candidly observes: “But now we do not yet see all things put under him.” Though man was given dominion, we do not presently see that dominion fully realized. Sin has broken the original order. Creation groans under the curse (Romans 8:20–22), and humanity is clearly not ruling in righteousness or fullness. Death, disease, war, and demonic oppression all contradict the ideal of Psalm 8.
“But we see Jesus.” This is the turning point. Jesus Christ is the perfect fulfillment of Psalm 8. He is the true Man, the Second Adam (cf. 1 Corinthians 15:45–47), who fulfills the destiny forfeited by the first. He was “made a little lower than the angels” in His incarnation, meaning that He temporarily assumed a position beneath them in order to fully identify with humanity and suffer death. His humiliation was necessary for our redemption.
Jesus’ humanity is not an afterthought or temporary disguise—it is essential to His priestly and kingly roles. Through His real, physical suffering and death, He entered into the full experience of humanity. The text says He was crowned “with glory and honor,” echoing Psalm 8 again—but now, it refers to His exaltation after His atoning work. Philippians 2:8–9 affirms this same pattern: “He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death… therefore God also has highly exalted Him…”
The phrase “that He, by the grace of God, might taste death for everyone” reveals both the motive and the scope of Christ’s death. It was “by the grace of God”—a gracious act of divine love. And He “tasted death”—not a mere symbolic act, but a real experience of suffering and mortality. The Greek word geusētai (taste) conveys not just sampling, but a full experience. He bore death’s agony in its entirety. He did this “for everyone,” which speaks to the universal sufficiency of Christ’s atonement, though its application is effective only to those who believe.
This passage stands in deliberate contrast to the earlier emphasis on angels. Whereas angels were exalted beings, Jesus temporarily took a lower place to accomplish something they never could: redemption through death. His humanity was not a hindrance to His mission; it was essential. By becoming a man, Jesus could die. By dying, He could destroy the power of death (as Hebrews 2:14 will go on to explain). And by rising again, He reclaimed the dominion lost in Eden and secured it for all who are in Him.
Through Jesus, man’s original destiny is restored. Revelation 5:10 speaks of believers as those whom Christ “has made… kings and priests to our God; and we shall reign on the earth.” Matthew 25:21 echoes the reward to faithful servants: “Well done, good and faithful servant… I will make you ruler over many things.” These are not abstract promises—they are the practical outworking of Psalm 8 as fulfilled in Christ and extended to His redeemed people.
This section of Hebrews reminds us that Jesus is not ashamed to call us brethren (as will be stated in verse 11). He did not merely visit humanity—He became one of us, not by ceasing to be God, but by adding a full, real human nature. His incarnation is not a theological footnote—it is the very means by which He redeems and restores. We look around and see chaos, but “we see Jesus.” That is the lens through which we interpret all of history, suffering, and hope. He is our Representative, our Forerunner, and our Elder Brother.
Hebrews 2:10–13 (NKJV):
“For it was fitting for Him, for whom are all things and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons to glory, to make the captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings.
For both He who sanctifies and those who are being sanctified are all of one, for which reason He is not ashamed to call them brethren, saying:
‘I will declare Your name to My brethren;
In the midst of the assembly I will sing praise to You.’
And again: ‘I will put My trust in Him.’
And again: ‘Here am I and the children whom God has given Me.’”
“For it was fitting for Him…”
This speaks of what is morally and spiritually appropriate in the plan of God. The phrase “for whom are all things and by whom are all things” is a high doxological statement about the Father, underscoring that all creation exists by Him and for His glory (cf. Romans 11:36, Colossians 1:16). The plan to save mankind through a suffering Redeemer wasn’t a regrettable necessity—it was divinely suitable. It satisfied both the justice and love of God.
It would have been possible for God, hypothetically, to design a system of salvation apart from suffering, but it would not have been fitting. God does not merely do what works; He does what reflects His glory. The suffering of Christ was not only effective—it was the perfect expression of divine holiness, love, and justice converging at the cross. This is in harmony with Isaiah 53:10: “Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise Him.” Sacrificial love demands cost. As David once said, “Nor will I offer burnt offerings to the Lord my God with that which costs me nothing” (2 Samuel 24:24). For love to be real, it must give.
“To make the captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings.”
The word “captain” (archēgos) means originator, pioneer, or leader. Jesus is the one who goes ahead to open the way. The idea here is not that Jesus was morally imperfect, but that His saving work had to be completed, or “perfected,” through suffering. Without the incarnation and the cross, He would not be qualified as our High Priest or as the perfect substitute. His perfection was not in character—He was sinless—but in experience. Until He walked our path, endured pain, and tasted death, His identification with us would be incomplete. His suffering is what fully equips Him to lead us into glory.
And note the purpose: “in bringing many sons to glory.” Christ did not merely suffer to set an example; He suffered to lead many into restored dominion and inheritance. This isn’t just the salvation of individuals—it’s the fulfillment of God’s intention to bring a redeemed humanity back to its place of honor (cf. Romans 8:29–30). We are not just forgiven—we are glorified sons, led by our Elder Brother into the kingdom.
“For both He who sanctifies and those who are being sanctified are all of one…”
“He who sanctifies” is Jesus; “those who are being sanctified” are the believers. We are said to be “of one,” meaning we share a common human nature. This is an ontological unity—Jesus became like us in every way except sin (Hebrews 4:15), and therefore we are now of the same family. The sanctifier and the sanctified share flesh, blood, and experience. This affirms Jesus’ full humanity and His right to call us His own.
Sanctification here is progressive. While our position is secure in Christ, we are in the ongoing process of being conformed to His image (Romans 8:29). Jesus, having entered into our humanity, now leads us forward in holiness by His Spirit.
“…for which reason He is not ashamed to call them brethren.”
This is one of the most astonishing statements in the New Testament. The holy, exalted Christ—Creator of the universe and heir of all things—is not ashamed to call us family. That Jesus would allow us to associate with Him is expected. But that He would associate Himself with us, sinners as we are, and without shame, defies logic and magnifies grace. It speaks not only of theological union but of personal affection. He doesn't reluctantly call us brothers; He rejoices in it.
“I will declare Your name to My brethren…” (Psalm 22:22)
This Messianic prophecy, from a psalm that vividly foretells the crucifixion, shows Jesus in a post-resurrection setting declaring the Father’s name among His redeemed people. This verse proves Jesus shares fellowship with His brethren not just as a Savior, but as a Worship Leader, praising God in their midst. It reminds us that Jesus sings with and among His people (cf. Matthew 26:30). This is not metaphorical—He is spiritually present in the gathering of the saints, unashamed to join their praises.
“I will put My trust in Him.” (Isaiah 8:17)
This quote reveals the full humanity of Christ. As man, Jesus exercised perfect trust in the Father. During His earthly ministry, He did not draw upon His divine power to escape suffering. He lived by faith, demonstrating what true dependence on God looks like (cf. Hebrews 5:7–8, John 5:19). This quote shows He shared our limitations and trusted as we must trust.
“Here am I and the children whom God has given Me.” (Isaiah 8:18)
This final quotation in the trio emphasizes family. The picture is of Jesus standing before the Father and identifying with His people—not only as Redeemer but as Head of a family. We are “the children whom God has given Me.” The Father entrusted a redeemed people to the Son (cf. John 6:37–39; John 17:6), and Jesus embraces them as His inheritance and joy.
This verse also echoes His High Priestly prayer in John 17: “All Mine are Yours, and Yours are Mine, and I am glorified in them… those whom You gave Me I have kept.” We are the Father’s gift to the Son—and He cherishes us accordingly.
Conclusion
These verses leave no doubt: Jesus is fully human, not in theory, but in blood, suffering, faith, and worship. He calls us His brethren not as a metaphor but as a covenantal reality. He became like us in every way so that He could lead us, sanctify us, suffer with us, and glorify us.
His humanity is not a weakness—it is the very means by which He triumphed and now calls us into fellowship with Himself. He is not ashamed of us. He sings among us. He trusts alongside us. He gathers us as His precious family and presents us with joy to the Father.
Hebrews 2:14–16 (NKJV):
“Inasmuch then as the children have partaken of flesh and blood, He Himself likewise shared in the same,
that through death He might destroy him who had the power of death, that is, the devil,
and release those who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage.
For indeed He does not give aid to angels, but He does give aid to the seed of Abraham.”
“Inasmuch then as the children have partaken of flesh and blood…”
This statement anchors the entire section in the reality of shared humanity. “The children” refers to believers (cf. Hebrews 2:13), and the phrase “flesh and blood” is a Hebrew idiom for mortal, physical humanity. Because the children partook of this humanity by nature, Jesus had to “share in the same” by choice. The Greek verb koinōneō (partaken) suggests participation by birth, while metechō (shared) speaks of deliberate, voluntary association. Christ took part in humanity not because He had to, but because He chose to.
This aligns perfectly with Philippians 2:7–8: “He made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men… He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death.” He did not become like an angel to save angels—He became man to save men.
“That through death He might destroy him who had the power of death, that is, the devil…”
This is the great paradox: by dying, Jesus defeated death. The word “destroy” here (katargeō) does not mean annihilate, but to render powerless or nullify. The devil’s “power of death” refers not to absolute control over death itself—only God has sovereignty over life and death—but to the devil’s use of death as a tool of terror, accusation, and bondage. Through Adam’s sin, death entered the world (Romans 5:12), and Satan, as the accuser and deceiver, exploits death as a weapon to keep man in fear and rebellion.
Some theologians historically argued that Satan had a legitimate claim over humanity after the Fall, and that Jesus broke that claim by tricking the devil into overreaching (e.g., the “ransom theory” or “baited hook” theories mentioned in early church writings). But Hebrews makes it clear that Satan did not take Jesus’ life unlawfully. Jesus said in John 10:18, “No one takes it from Me, but I lay it down of Myself.” The devil desired Jesus’ death and certainly played a role in the betrayal and crucifixion, but he had no rightful claim over Christ. In seeking to destroy the sinless One, Satan sealed his own doom. As foretold in Genesis 3:15, the serpent bruised Christ’s heel, but Christ crushed the serpent’s head.
“And release those who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage.”
This is one of the most pastorally rich verses in the New Testament. The fear of death is universal. Whether expressed as denial, escapism, or existential dread, it haunts mankind. Christ’s death releases believers from that fear—not because we deny the reality of death, but because we no longer see it as a curse. For the Christian, death is no longer a master, but a passage. “To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord” (2 Corinthians 5:8). Even though believers may fear the process of dying, we no longer fear its outcome.
“For indeed He does not give aid to angels, but He does give aid to the seed of Abraham.”
Jesus did not take the nature of angels, nor did He come to redeem them. He took on the seed of Abraham—meaning not merely ethnic descendants, but the spiritual seed, those who believe as Abraham did (cf. Romans 4:11–12, Galatians 3:7). The Greek verb here (epilambanetai) means “to take hold of,” as one might grasp the hand of another to pull them from danger. It is the image of rescue. Christ came to grasp fallen humanity and raise them up, not angels.
This distinction reinforces the purpose of the incarnation: Christ didn’t come to elevate some higher spiritual order, but to enter into the brokenness of real human life and offer redemption to real people. His solidarity is not theoretical—it’s intensely personal.
Hebrews 2:17–18 (NKJV):
“Therefore, in all things He had to be made like His brethren,
that He might be a merciful and faithful High Priest in things pertaining to God,
to make propitiation for the sins of the people.
For in that He Himself has suffered, being tempted, He is able to aid those who are tempted.”
“Therefore, in all things He had to be made like His brethren…”
The logic is tight and inescapable: if Jesus is to save man, He must be fully man. The phrase “in all things” means that His identification was total, though without sin. As the early church put it: what is not assumed is not redeemed. Jesus had to experience the full range of human life—including temptation, suffering, grief, fatigue, and death—in order to qualify as our intercessor and representative.
“That He might be a merciful and faithful High Priest…”
This is the first explicit reference in Hebrews to Christ as High Priest, a theme that will dominate chapters 4–10. Here, two attributes are introduced: mercy and faithfulness. Mercy refers to His compassion—He knows our weakness because He lived among us. Faithfulness refers to His reliability—He never failed in His obedience to God. Together, these qualities make Him the perfect mediator between God and man.
“To make propitiation for the sins of the people.”
This is one of the richest theological terms in Scripture. The Greek word hilaskesthai refers to the appeasement or satisfaction of divine wrath. Jesus didn’t merely “cover” sin—He bore it, satisfied justice, and removed it. Romans 3:25 says God set Him forth “as a propitiation by His blood, through faith.” This offering restores fellowship by addressing the offense, not ignoring it. Only a truly human, yet sinless High Priest could offer Himself as the final, acceptable sacrifice.
“For in that He Himself has suffered, being tempted…”
The temptation of Jesus was not less than ours; it was greater. He felt its full weight, because He never gave in. Most people know temptation only to the point where they cave. Jesus endured beyond that point—fully, and without sin. This verse counters the false idea that Jesus' divine nature made His temptation easy. His sinlessness did not lessen the struggle—it intensified it.
“He is able to aid those who are tempted.”
The word for “aid” (boētheō) means to run to the cry of those in need. It speaks of both power and eagerness. Jesus doesn’t help begrudgingly. He rushes to assist those under the pressure of temptation, because He knows what it’s like. We have more than an example—we have a Deliverer who walks with us in the struggle. He doesn't merely sympathize—He strengthens.
Conclusion
This passage completes the argument that Jesus is not only fully divine, as chapter 1 affirmed, but fully human. He shared our nature, entered our suffering, bore our temptation, and conquered our death. He defeated Satan not with power from afar, but by entering death itself and rising victorious. He delivers us from the fear of death, rescues us from sin’s power, and now serves us as a faithful High Priest, interceding, guiding, and strengthening His people.
This is not abstract theology—it is the living hope of those who follow Him. He is our Elder Brother, our Redeemer, our High Priest, and our present help in time of need.
