The question of Shabbat, of observing and violating it, arises constantly in the Gospels. This is understandable: the problem of observing Shabbat was one of the main problems in Judaism. Entire treatises were written by interpreters of the Torah to justify what exactly could be done on Shabbat and what could not, in what cases a given action would be a violation of Shabbat and in what cases it was permitted.

For example, with regard to treatment, the consensus came down to the understanding that on Shabbat one can and must save a person from death if death threatens him. This means that one can and must carry out the medical procedures that are necessary, to use modern language, for vital indications, emergency procedures without which the sick person will die. If there is no such urgency, however, there is no need to hurry with treatment, because that too is work, and work is forbidden on Shabbat.

For the sake of saving life, Shabbat may be violated; for the sake of immediate healing, no. The case of the man with the withered hand was precisely one in which there was no need to hurry: death did not threaten him, for he had already lived this way for more than one year, which means he could have been healed after Shabbat ended. Jesus, however, looks at Shabbat in a completely different way, returning it to its original meaning. The original meaning of Shabbat consisted not at all in ritual restrictions and prohibitions, but in spending the day in God's presence, devoting it entirely and without remainder to communion with God. All the prohibitions and restrictions were ultimately directed toward removing a person from that everyday rush which greatly hinders communion with God and at times makes it simply impossible. Meanwhile the healing performed by Jesus manifested to those gathered the very fullness of the Kingdom that opened the possibility of communion with God, previously unknown to the people of God. And now it turned out that ritual prohibitions, when understood in a purely formal way, began to hinder communion with God instead of helping it.

It is not by chance that Jesus asks the people around Him a question about saving the "soul," about saving life. In healing, He joins the person He heals to the fullness of the life of the Kingdom, and He is told that by doing this He violates Shabbat. So what, then, is Shabbat: the fullness of communion with God, or a system of prohibitions for the sake of prohibitions? Each person had to answer this question for himself.

At times Jesus' behavior looks frankly provocative. Why, one asks, did He need to heal a man with a withered hand specifically on Shabbat and specifically in the synagogue? This was a direct and obvious challenge not only to the Pharisees in particular, but also in general to the ideas already established by that time about the norms and rules of Shabbat, and in particular about the ritual prohibitions connected with it.

The usual rule was this: help to a person on Shabbat, including medical help, was given in the form and to the extent necessary for vital indications. If, for example, the healed man's withered hand had directly threatened his life, no one would have reproached Jesus for the healing.

If, however, there was no direct and immediate threat to life, treatment was not performed on Shabbat and was postponed until it ended. It is worth noting, by the way, that in medical institutions in Israel, for example, these rules are still followed today: on Shabbat only necessary planned medical procedures are carried out, and emergency help necessary for vital indications is provided.

The situation with the man healed by Jesus was clearly different: the presence of a withered hand in no way threatened his life, and the healing therefore could have been postponed until the end of Shabbat. But Jesus, as we see, does not do this and heals the man specifically on Shabbat. At first glance such a healing can look like a demonstrative and therefore provocative violation of Shabbat.

In reality, however, the situation is exactly the opposite. In this case the matter is not medical help, but healing: the manifestation of the Kingdom and its power. That is, the very thing for which Shabbat as such exists. In Gospel times there was much debate about the ritual norms and prescriptions connected with Shabbat, and amid the restrictions people often forgot the main thing: Shabbat is not a day of ritual prohibitions, but a day to be spent in God's presence.

Jesus is precisely striving to return Shabbat to its true meaning. Indeed, where can Shabbat be more itself, not in form but in essence, than in the Kingdom? To enter the Kingdom means to enter the rest of Shabbat, and in a fullness that is unthinkable anywhere else. This is exactly what Jesus offers those who witnessed the healing He performed: in fact, all of them, as many as were there, found themselves on the threshold of the Kingdom. But many of those present did not notice the Kingdom at all; instead, they noticed very clearly a violation of the religious prescriptions connected with Shabbat. This emphasis on the external at the expense of the essential, on religion at the expense of the Kingdom, was the chief obstacle on the way into the Kingdom for religious people. It was an obstacle that had to be overcome, or else one had to abandon the way into the Kingdom altogether. Here each person chooses his own. And bears all the consequences of his choice.

Turning to the theme of the Torah (the Law), the author of the epistle reasons about it in the same way as his teacher Paul. He sees several levels of Torah: on the one hand, Torah as legislation, as a legal and moral code, and on the other, the inner Torah as a spiritual core and a spiritual and moral imperative that defines a person's relationship with God and his whole life. It is clear that the author of the epistle looks at Christ in the same way as all Christians of that time did: as the only example in the history of the people of God of the living Torah.

Continuing Paul's thought about the Torah and extending it to the Levitical priesthood, he says: just as the Torah by itself does not make a person perfect, so the priesthood existing within the framework of such a Torah, which does not bring to perfection, cannot sanctify the people in all fullness. Paul speaks often and at length in his epistles about the fact that the Torah, even the inner Torah, still does not make a person perfect, that it cannot qualitatively change human nature and free it from the power of sin. But the Levitical priests are the same sinful people as everyone else; none of them revealed to the world examples of the living Torah. And if so, then the sanctification by which God sanctified the people through their priestly action could not be complete. The fullness of the Torah is the living Torah, and the living Torah is Christ Himself.

In Christ there is a change, or alteration, of the Torah, and therefore the priesthood must also change. Of course, this does not mean that some other priestly community or corporation should come to replace the Levitical priesthood. The point is different: it concerns the manner and fullness of the people's sanctification, corresponding to the new quality of their life. In fact, for life in the Kingdom, for abiding as part of the body of Christ, a Christian must be sanctified in all the fullness possible for him, in a way he was never sanctified through Yahwist sacrifices, because no person in a fallen state can be sanctified completely.

But now, in the process of a person becoming a living Torah (and the path in Christ, the path of becoming like Christ, was understood by the first generations of Christians precisely as a person's becoming in Christ as the living Torah), he must be sanctified precisely in fullness, since it is given to him as a created being. And such sanctification is possible only in that spiritual space of the relationship between the Father and the Son where the Church also abides. There the High Priest is already Christ Himself, and the fullness of sanctification also proves to correspond to Him.