For Jews at the beginning of the first century AD, the tax to Caesar was a humiliating sign of dependence on the Romans. If the Lord had said that it should be paid, He could have been accused of lacking patriotism (at that point the chief priests would urgently have become patriots). If He had said that it should not be paid, He could have been accused of inciting rebellion (in that case the chief priests would have had to present themselves as constructive collaborators with the Romans, which, in the end, is exactly what they did). Christ's answer is striking first of all because He clearly distinguishes the sphere of earthly ordering of life, to which all forms of national and supranational authority belong, from the sphere of the life of the spirit. The Lord does not reject the state and does not call for a religious reorganization of state governance. His answer places the life of the spirit and worldly authority on different planes.

On the one hand, this gives us the ability to see the real usefulness of authority for ensuring the normal life of society, as the apostles will later write in detail. On the other hand, Christ's answer frees His disciples from deifying authority and rejects the claims of earthly authorities over people's spiritual life. For that era this was an unprecedented revelation, and it was precisely for this that the Roman state persecuted Christians.

The most important thing in Christ's words is the call to render to God what is God's, to be no less concerned with fulfilling our duties before the Creator of the world than before its temporary rulers. And this is the hardest thing of all.

Speaking of the "abolition of the former commandment," which, however, according to the meaning of the corresponding Greek word would more accurately be called a "renunciation," the author of the letter says that this happens because of its "weakness," exactly as the Greek text says. Judging by the context, the issue here is not that the commandment is bad as such, or that it is insufficient for solving the task set by God, but that it is not a perfect instrument for achieving the appointed goal: the Torah that functioned in pre-Christian times, as is evident, could not solve the task of the complete sanctification and transformation of a person. That is precisely why something greater was needed, something that could enter the world only with Christ. But this greater thing did not mechanically supplement the former Torah, nor did it mean its growth, similar to what one can speak of, for example, in the case of adding another story to a house, when the addition does not require changing or rebuilding the original structure. For the greater thing was nothing other than the Kingdom brought into the world by the Savior. It certainly includes all the fullness of sanctification available to a human being, compared with which every earlier sanctification was only partial and relative. But this fullness does not consist of parts; bringing sanctification to fullness means the complete transformation of human nature, a new quality and a new state of the human being, not a continuation of former purifying and sanctifying rituals. And this new quality, surpassing everything that had been given to humanity before, makes the former things spiritually no longer current. For in the Kingdom only fullness is possible, life in abundance, and nothing less.

Continuing the discussion of Christ as High Priest, the author of the epistle draws attention to the key difference that distinguishes Him from every high priest of the Levitical priesthood. The matter concerns death, which weighs upon every fallen person. And the point here is not only that after the fall every person is mortal.

The point above all is that death defines the whole life of a fallen person. In our ordinary state we all live while dying, and we begin to die from the very moment of our conception, even before we come into the world. Death has become an inseparable part of our fallen life. Meanwhile, it is precisely death that prevents a person, and indeed the whole universe, from being sanctified completely.

It is no accident that Yahwism traditionally sets against holiness (not in the sense of righteousness, as we often use the word today, but in the sense of consecration) not even sin, but impurity, as that which destroys the fullness and integrity of creation, bringing death into it and preventing it from being sanctified, from becoming part of the Kingdom completely and in fullness.

Of course, sin also defiles, but it is only part of the evil in which the world lies, the part directly connected with a person's spiritual life and spiritual self-determination. To be sanctified in fullness oneself and to become a mediator in this process for others, one must be free from death, and therefore free from the evil in which the world lies, including human sinfulness. But by definition there could be no such high priest from among the Levites: there are no sinless people on earth, and no examples of the living Torah are known among the Levitical priesthood.

It was necessary to resort to special purifying sacrifices for the priests. These, of course, did not free them from sin, but they gave the priest the ability to act, so to speak, "over" his own sinful nature, not allowing it to show itself while the priest was carrying out his service. But this was a half measure: the priest himself remained the same, and as soon as he moved away from the altar and returned to ordinary life, sin again gained power over him. That is precisely why, after the purifying sacrifices, the Torah forbids priests to leave the courtyard of the Tabernacle (or, later, the Temple courtyard) until the end of the period of their service, which could last from one day to several weeks.

Throughout this time the priest had to live by the Tabernacle or by the Temple. In practice, however, this state of affairs meant that the priest remained a priest in the full sense of the word only for a certain time, while he was serving: it was then that God, through his service and with his participation, sanctified the people, while at all other times the priest was no different from anyone else. With Christ it is not so: He is High Priest always; His whole life is the process by which He sanctifies the Church as His body, for sin has no power over Him, and therefore death has no place in His life. Once He comes into contact with it, Jesus immediately conquers it through the resurrection. Such a High Priest can sanctify His people and the whole world in fullness, so that it may become part of the Kingdom, as God intended from the very beginning.