Hebrews 2:14–18 Hebrews has spent the second half of chapter 2 explaining why the eternal Son entered the human condition. Humanity was created for glory and honor, but we do not yet see everything subjected beneath human feet. We do, however, see Jesus. The One greater than the angels became, for a little while, lower than the angels. He entered suffering, tasted death, and emerged crowned with the glory humanity was created to possess. Yet His arrival at glory was never intended to be an isolated achievement. God is bringing many children to glory through Him, and Jesus is the pioneer of their salvation, the One who travels the road ahead of them and reaches the destination they could not reach by themselves.
That saving purpose required more than appearing human from a safe distance. Hebrews has already described Jesus as standing among His brothers, trusting God as a faithful human being, and identifying Himself with “the children whom God has given me.” The author takes that family language to its necessary conclusion. If the children He came to save belong to flesh and blood, then the Son must genuinely enter flesh and blood. If their enemies are sin and death, then He must enter the mortal condition in which those enemies exercise their power. If He is going to become their merciful and faithful High Priest, He must become like the people He represents.
Hebrews 2:14–18 (WEB) Since then the children have shared in flesh and blood, he also himself in the same way partook of the same, that through death he might bring to nothing him who had the power of death, that is, the devil, and might deliver all of them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage. For most certainly, he doesn’t give help to angels, but he gives help to the offspring of Abraham.
Therefore he was obligated in all things to be made like his brothers, that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God, to make atonement for the sins of the people.
For in that he himself has suffered being tempted, he is able to help those who are tempted.
This is the conclusion toward which the entire chapter has been moving. The Son became human because human beings were the ones He came to save. He entered mortality because death was the enemy under which they lived. He suffered because His saving work required Him to enter the experience of the people He represented. His humanity is therefore not incidental to salvation. Hebrews presents it as necessary to the kind of salvation God intended to accomplish.
Flesh and Blood Hebrews begins with a description of ordinary human existence: “the children have shared in flesh and blood.” The expression does not need to be made more complicated than it is. Flesh and blood describes humanity in its embodied, mortal condition. The children God is bringing to glory are not disembodied spiritual beings temporarily trapped inside physical bodies. They are human beings, and the Son’s solidarity with them therefore requires genuine participation in human existence. Hebrews emphasizes that participation strongly: “he also himself in the same way partook of the same.” The author has already made extraordinary claims concerning the identity of this person. Jesus is the Son through whom God made the ages, the radiance of His glory, the exact representation of His being, the One who sustains all things by the word of His power, and the Lord whose hands laid the foundations of the earth.
Nothing in chapter 2 withdraws those claims. Instead, Hebrews places beside them another confession equally essential to its understanding of Christ: the eternal Son genuinely became human. John expresses the same reality with different language.
John 1:1, 14 (WEB) In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
The Word became flesh and lived among us. We saw his glory, glory as of the one and only Son of the Father, full of grace and truth.
The movement is not from humanity upward toward deity but from the eternal Word into flesh. Hebrews describes the same descent through its comparison with angels. The One above the angels enters the condition of humanity beneath them. The incarnation therefore cannot be reduced to Jesus looking human, temporarily inhabiting a human body, or using humanity as a disguise. Hebrews will shortly build His priesthood upon the reality that He became like His brothers “in all things.” A merely apparent humanity could not carry the argument.
This also means that physical existence itself is not the enemy from which Jesus came to rescue us. If embodiment were inherently evil, the Son’s participation in flesh and blood would hardly provide the foundation for humanity’s restoration. The problem is not that God mistakenly made human beings physical and must now rescue their spiritual components from creation. The problem is that embodied human beings created for glory have become subject to sin, corruption, suffering, and death. The Son therefore enters embodied human existence in order to redeem human beings rather than abolish humanity.
Hebrews then tells us why His participation in flesh and blood necessarily led toward death.
Through Death The purpose clause is astonishing:
“…that through death he might bring to nothing him who had the power of death, that is, the devil…”
The Son shares flesh and blood so that He can die. That sounds almost backward. Death is the problem, yet the path to victory runs through death itself. Hebrews does not present Jesus defeating mortality by remaining safely beyond its reach. The One whose years never fail enters a condition in which He can die and then passes through death in order to break its mastery over those He came to save. The expression translated “bring to nothing” is katargeō. Depending upon context, the word can describe rendering something ineffective, nullifying its power, abolishing its effect, or bringing it to an end.
Hebrews obviously does not mean that the devil ceased to exist at the moment Jesus died. The New Testament continues speaking of Satan as an active enemy after the resurrection. Nor does Hebrews say that every consequence of his activity has already disappeared from present human experience. The author’s claim concerns the decisive defeat of the one who held “the power of death.”
That phrase needs similar care. Hebrews does not present the devil as the sovereign ruler of death possessing an independent authority parallel to God’s. Scripture consistently places final authority over life and judgment with God. Jesus Himself warns His disciples not ultimately to fear those who can kill the body but to fear God, whose authority extends beyond physical death.
Matthew 10:28 (WEB) Don’t be afraid of those who kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul. Rather, fear him who is able to destroy both soul and body in Gehenna.
The devil’s “power of death” therefore should not be inflated into ownership of death or ultimate authority over human destiny. His relationship to death is bound to the entrance and operation of sin within the human story. Jesus describes the devil as “a murderer from the beginning” (John 8:44), while the broader New Testament repeatedly connects sin with death. Satan tempts, accuses, deceives, and works toward destruction within a world where humanity’s rebellion has produced mortality.
Hebrews is not pausing to give us a complete doctrine of Satan, and turning this verse into one would allow a supporting character to hijack the argument. The author’s concern is the victory of Christ. Whatever authority the devil exercises through death, the death of Jesus decisively breaks his ability to hold God’s children beneath it. The enemy’s weapon becomes the means through which his power is defeated. Paul describes Christ’s victory through similar reversal when discussing the powers hostile to God’s people.
Colossians 2:13–15 (WEB) You were dead through your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh. He made you alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, wiping out the handwriting in ordinances which was against us. He has taken it out of the way, nailing it to the cross.
Having stripped the principalities and the powers, he made a show of them openly, triumphing over them in it.
The cross appears to be defeat when viewed only from the outside. Jesus is arrested, condemned, humiliated, crucified, and buried. Yet the New Testament repeatedly interprets that apparent defeat as the place where the enemy’s claims are overturned. Hebrews makes the paradox especially sharp: through death, Jesus breaks the power associated with death.
Resurrection is what makes that claim intelligible. A Messiah who simply entered death and remained there would not have conquered it.
Hebrews has already told us that Jesus suffered death and is now crowned with glory and honor. The One who entered mortality has emerged beyond its mastery, and because He entered death as the pioneer bringing many children to glory, His victory does not belong to Him alone.
Slaves Through Fear of Death Hebrews immediately describes the human consequence of that victory:
“…and might deliver all of them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage.”
Death possesses power over human beings before the moment they actually die. The knowledge that life ends can exercise a kind of slavery throughout life itself. Human beings know, even when we work very hard not to think about it, that everything we presently possess can be taken from us by death. Wealth, reputation, achievement, physical strength, relationships, plans, possessions, and every other temporary security remain vulnerable to the same enemy.
That does not mean every person spends every waking moment consciously terrified of dying. Hebrews is describing a deeper bondage than constant panic. Mortality establishes a boundary around ordinary human existence, and fear of that boundary shapes human behavior in countless ways. We cling to what we cannot keep, attempt to preserve ourselves through achievements that might outlive us, avoid dangers that remind us of our fragility, and construct entire cultures capable of discussing almost anything more comfortably than death.
The Christian answer to that bondage is not pretending death is harmless. Scripture never treats death as a misunderstood friend whom Christians merely need to appreciate properly. Paul calls death “the last enemy” (1
Corinthians 15:26). Jesus weeps at Lazarus’s tomb before raising him. Hebrews itself presents death as the realm through which Christ must pass in order to liberate those enslaved by its fear.
Christian freedom from the fear of death therefore rests not upon convincing ourselves that dying is pleasant but upon the conviction that death no longer possesses the final word over those who belong to Christ. Paul’s great resurrection chapter reaches exactly that conclusion.
1 Corinthians 15:54–57 (WEB) But when this perishable body will have become imperishable, and this mortal will have put on immortality, then what is written will happen:
“Death is swallowed up in victory.”
“Death, where is your sting? Hades, where is your victory?” The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
The mortal puts on immortality. The perishable becomes imperishable. Resurrection answers death because God’s purpose is not to teach His children how to accept permanent defeat but to destroy the enemy that presently subjects them to mortality.
Paul?s hope is not escape from embodiment.
Hebrews has already begun making the same argument. Jesus has tasted death, passed through it, and been crowned with glory. The children He came to save can therefore face death differently, not because their bodies have somehow ceased being mortal in the present age, but because the pioneer has already traveled through death into the glory toward which He is bringing them.
Not Angels, but Abraham s Offspring Hebrews then returns briefly to the angels who have occupied so much of the opening chapters.
Hebrews 2:16 (WEB) For most certainly, he doesn’t give help to angels, but he gives help to the offspring of Abraham.
The point follows naturally from the argument about flesh and blood. The Son’s saving solidarity is directed toward humanity. Hebrews has already established that angels are glorious servants, but the world to come is not subjected to them, and the Son did not assume angelic nature in order to restore fallen angels. He entered the condition of the human children God intended to bring to glory. The reference to “the offspring of Abraham” introduces covenantal language into that human solidarity. Hebrews is writing within the scriptural story of Israel, promise, and fulfillment. The salvation accomplished by Jesus is not a detached religious program that appears after the Old Testament has been discarded. It belongs to the story God began unfolding through Abraham and his descendants.
We should not, however, force this single phrase to answer every later question about who constitutes Abraham’s offspring. Paul will develop that subject extensively elsewhere, and Hebrews itself will have much more to say about promise, faith, covenant, and inheritance. Here the contrast is simpler. The Son’s redemptive mission is directed toward human beings rather than angels, and Hebrews identifies those receiving that covenantal help through the language of Abraham.
The verb translated “give help” can carry the sense of taking hold of someone in order to help them. The image fits the larger movement of the passage. The Son has not merely shouted instructions toward humanity from heaven. He has taken hold of the people He came to save by entering their condition Himself. That is why verse 17 begins with “therefore.”
Made Like His Brothers in All Things Hebrews 2:17 (WEB) Therefore he was obligated in all things to be made like his brothers, that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God, to make atonement for the sins of the people.
The language is stronger than we might expect. Because the children share flesh and blood and because they are the ones He came to help, Jesus “was obligated” to be made like His brothers in all things. The necessity is not imposed upon God by some authority outside Himself. It arises from the saving purpose God has chosen to accomplish. If the Son is going to save human beings in the manner Hebrews describes, genuine participation in humanity is necessary.
“In all things” does not mean Jesus shared every individual circumstance experienced by every human being. He was not simultaneously male and female, married and unmarried, wealthy and poor, young and elderly, a parent and a child. Nor does Hebrews mean that He participated in human sin, since the letter will explicitly describe Him as “without sin.” The point is that His humanity was genuine rather than partial. He entered the fundamental realities of human existence: embodiment, dependence, weakness, suffering, temptation, and mortality.
That matters because Hebrews now introduces a title that will dominate much of the rest of the letter.
Jesus becomes “a merciful and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God.” We have reached the doorway into Hebrews’ great argument concerning the priesthood of Christ.
The author does not begin that argument with vestments, sanctuary furniture, sacrificial regulations, or Melchizedek. He begins with incarnation.
Before Hebrews explains what kind of priest Jesus is, it explains why He can represent the people for whom He acts. He has become like His brothers. That tells us something fundamental about biblical priesthood. A priest stands representatively between God and the people in matters pertaining to God. The high priesthood of Jesus therefore requires both His faithfulness toward God and His merciful solidarity with humanity.
Hebrews has already established His unique relationship to God; chapter 2 establishes the depth of His identification with the people He represents.
He is merciful because He has genuinely entered their condition. He is faithful because He perfectly fulfills the mission entrusted to Him.
Those qualities will continue to shape Hebrews’ presentation of His priesthood.
To Make Atonement for the Sins of the People The purpose of that priesthood is immediately connected with sin. The WEB says Jesus became High Priest “to make atonement for the sins of the people.” The underlying verb is hilaskomai, language associated with dealing with sin in a manner that restores the relationship between God and His people. English translations vary here, with terms such as “make propitiation” or “make atonement” attempting to express dimensions of the concept.
We do not need to settle the entire debate over the English vocabulary of atonement in the first sentence where Hebrews introduces the subject.
The author is about to spend much of the letter explaining Christ’s priesthood, sacrifice, blood, covenant, cleansing, forgiveness, and access to God. It would be a strange method of interpretation to construct the complete theology before allowing Hebrews to give it to us.
What we can say already is substantial. Humanity’s problem is not merely mortality imposed from outside. Sin stands at the center of the alienation Christ came to address. The same Son who shares flesh and blood, breaks the bondage associated with death, and liberates those enslaved through its fear also acts as High Priest concerning the sins of the people.
The different aspects of salvation in this passage therefore belong together. Christ’s victory over death does not make atonement unnecessary, and His priestly dealing with sin does not make resurrection an optional appendix. Sin and death belong to the same human catastrophe, and Hebrews presents Jesus entering the whole problem. He deals with sin before God and passes through death on behalf of the people whose sins He addresses.
The salvation announced in Hebrews 2:3 is becoming greater every time the author explains it.
He Suffered Being Tempted Hebrews concludes the chapter by connecting Jesus’ genuine humanity with the help He continues to provide.
Hebrews 2:18 (WEB) For in that he himself has suffered being tempted, he is able to help those who are tempted.
Temptation here should not immediately be reduced to the modern idea of feeling an internal desire to commit some particular sin. The underlying term can describe testing or trial more broadly, and the context of Hebrews strongly connects Jesus’ testing with suffering. He experienced the pressure of faithfulness within a fallen world. He knew hunger, exhaustion, rejection, grief, hostility, physical pain, and ultimately the approach of death itself.
The Gospels give us a particularly clear picture of that pressure in Gethsemane.
Matthew 26:37–39 (WEB) He took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be sorrowful and severely troubled. Then he said to them, “My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even to death. Stay here and watch with me.”
He went forward a little, fell on his face, and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass away from me; nevertheless, not what I desire, but what you desire.”
Nothing about genuine obedience requires the absence of suffering. Jesus’ faithfulness is not demonstrated by the cross being easy for Him. The Gospels show precisely the opposite. He faces suffering as genuine suffering and death as genuine death, yet remains obedient to the Father through it.
That experience matters for His priesthood because Hebrews says it makes Him able to help those who are themselves being tested. The author is not suggesting that the eternal Son previously lacked information about human suffering and needed the incarnation to discover facts He did not know. The point concerns experiential solidarity rather than the correction of divine ignorance. The One helping suffering human beings has Himself entered suffering as a human being. Hebrews will return to this argument shortly.
Hebrews 4:15–16 (WEB) For we don’t have a high priest who can’t be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, but one who has been in all points tempted like we are, yet without sin. Let’s therefore draw near with boldness to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and may find grace for help in time of need.
The practical conclusion of Christ’s solidarity is not merely that Christians possess a fascinating doctrine of the incarnation. They possess a High Priest to whom they can draw near. The One seated at God’s right hand is not incapable of understanding the human condition because He has genuinely lived within it.
That brings the argument of Hebrews 2 remarkably close to where the chapter began. Christians were warned not to drift from the salvation announced through Christ. The author has now spent the remainder of the chapter showing them what they would be drifting away from.
He Came All the Way Down Hebrews 2 began by directing our attention toward humanity’s intended glory. God created human beings to exercise dominion beneath Him, yet we do not presently see that destiny completed. We see suffering, corruption, sin, and death. The human condition appears painfully distant from the glory described in Psalm 8. Then Hebrews tells us to look at Jesus.
The Son did not restore humanity by remaining outside that condition. Because the children share flesh and blood, He shared in the same.
Because death held humanity beneath its shadow, He entered death and passed through it. Because fear of death enslaved human beings, His victory provides liberation from that fear. Because human beings needed someone to represent them before God concerning their sins, He became like His brothers and became their merciful and faithful High Priest.
Because they suffer under testing, He Himself suffered when tested and is able to help them.
The incarnation is therefore not merely the mechanism that allowed Jesus to possess a body capable of being crucified. Hebrews presents His humanity as fundamental to the entire shape of His saving work.
The children needed more than a message delivered from heaven. They needed a pioneer who would enter their road, a brother who would share their condition, a champion who would confront their enemy, and a priest who could represent them before God.
The One Hebrews 1 placed unimaginably high has come all the way down into the condition described in Hebrews 2, without ceasing to be the glorious Son Hebrews 1 revealed.
That is what makes His victory over death so remarkable. The Creator does not destroy death from a distance. He enters the mortality of His creatures. The One whose years never fail accepts flesh and blood, suffers, is tested, and dies. Yet death cannot retain the One who entered it. He passes through and emerges crowned with glory and honor, breaking the mastery of death for the children He is bringing with Him.
Hebrews has therefore taken us from the throne of the eternal Son to the deepest realities of mortal human existence without ever changing its subject. The Son worshiped by angels is the brother who shares flesh and blood. The Creator is the suffering human being. The enthroned Lord is the merciful High Priest.
And because He truly shared in the same, those who suffer under the same human condition do not face it without help.