Bread and Wine

Read Genesis 13 and Genesis 14 in full before proceeding. Keep your Bible open throughout this session.

Melchizedek king of Salem brought out bread and wine. (Now he was the priest of the Most High God.)
— Genesis 14:18

The first failure of Abram is behind us. He is back in the land — back at the altar between Bethel and Ai that he had built before the famine drove him to Egypt. The LORD has rescued His promise from the consequences of Abram’s lie. Sarai is back at her husband’s side. The seed-line continues.

Now the patriarchal narrative settles into its working rhythm. Abram and Lot will separate. The land that the LORD has promised will be confirmed in greater detail. The first military conflict of the Bible will erupt — a coalition of four eastern kings invading the Jordan valley, defeating five local kings, taking Lot captive in the process. Abram will pursue, and he will rescue.

And then — in three verses near the end of Genesis 14 — one of the most remarkable figures in all of Scripture will appear, briefly, like a meteor crossing the sky. Melchizedek, king of Salem, priest of God Most High. He will bring bread and wine. He will bless Abram. He will receive Abram’s tithe. And then he will disappear from the Genesis narrative as suddenly as he came.

A thousand years later, the psalmist David will mention him again — You are a priest forever, after the order of Melchizedek (Psalm 110:4) — naming the coming Messiah’s priesthood in terms of this brief Genesis encounter. A thousand years after David, the writer of Hebrews will spend several chapters unpacking what Melchizedek means. Hebrews 7 is the most extended NT meditation on any single Old Testament figure outside of the patriarchs themselves. The brief moment in Genesis 14 becomes the foundation of one of the great christological developments of the New Testament.

The chapter ahead will give us the Melchizedek encounter, and we will follow the apostolic reading of it into the heart of the priesthood of Christ.

The Strife and the Separation

So Abram went up from Egypt into the Negev. He took his wife and all his possessions with him, as well as Lot. (Now Abram was very wealthy in livestock, silver, and gold.) And he journeyed from place to place from the Negev as far as Bethel. He returned to the place where he had pitched his tent at the beginning, between Bethel and Ai. This was the place where he had first built the altar, and there Abram worshiped the LORD.

Abram returns. The expulsion from Egypt has not deflected the trajectory of his life with the LORD. He goes back to where he had been — back to the altar between Bethel and Ai, back to the place where he had called upon the name of the LORD when he first came into the land. This is one of the marks of genuine repentance: returning to the place where one was last walking faithfully with God. Abram does not start a new direction after his failure. He goes back to his old direction. He returns to the altar.

The text notes that Abram is now very rich — in livestock, silver, and gold. Some of this wealth had come, ironically, from the gifts of Pharaoh during the Egypt episode. The same man who failed in Egypt has emerged from Egypt richer than he went in. The LORD does not punish Abram by reducing him; the wealth remains. But the wealth will create its own problems.

Now Lot, who was traveling with Abram, also had flocks, herds, and tents. But the land could not support them while they were living side by side. Because their possessions were so great, they were not able to live alongside one another. So there were quarrels between Abram’s herdsmen and Lot’s herdsmen. (Now the Canaanites and the Perizzites were living in the land at that time.)

The first conflict between members of the covenant family. The text is careful about it: the strife is between the herdsmen, not between the two men themselves. But the strife is, in essence, a household conflict — the extended family of Abram is too prosperous to stay together. There is not enough pastureland for the combined flocks. The men working for Abram and the men working for Lot quarrel over water and grass.

The Canaanites and Perizzites are mentioned by way of footnote. The land is full of other peoples. The witness of the household of Abram to those peoples — to the families of the earth — is being threatened by internal strife. The witness of God’s people in a watching world has always been threatened by internal strife. If Abram and Lot cannot live together peacefully, what hope is there that the surrounding nations will see in them anything worth seeking? Jesus will eventually pray: that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me (John 17:21). The internal unity of God’s people is essential to the external witness of God’s people. Abram acts on this principle now.

Abram said to Lot, “Let there be no quarreling between me and you, and between my herdsmen and your herdsmen, for we are close relatives. Is not the whole land before you? Separate yourself now from me. If you go to the left, then I’ll go to the right, but if you go to the right, then I’ll go to the left.”

Abram, the elder, the one to whom the land has been promised, gives Lot the choice. Is not the whole land before you? As the patriarch, Abram could have claimed the better portion as his right. He does not. He lets the younger man choose first. This is generosity rooted in trust. Abram does not need to grasp at the best portion. The LORD has promised him the land in any case. He can afford to be generous because his future is not in his hands but in the LORD’s.

This is one of the deeper marks of faith. The believer who trusts the LORD’s promise does not need to manipulate circumstances to secure the best outcome. He can give the choice to his junior. He can let go of what he might have claimed. He can trust that the LORD’s promise will be kept even if the natural means seem to favor someone else. Abram is not just being polite; he is being faithful. His generosity comes from his confidence that the LORD has His back.

Lot looked up and saw the whole region of the Jordan. He noticed that all of it was well watered (this was before the LORD obliterated Sodom and Gomorrah) like the garden of the LORD, like the land of Egypt, all the way to Zoar. Lot chose for himself the whole region of the Jordan and traveled toward the east. So the relatives separated from each other.

Lot lifted up his eyes. The Hebrew verb is the same that will be used three verses later when the LORD says to Abram, Lift up your eyes. The parallel is deliberate. Lot lifts up his eyes and sees by his own judgment, choosing what looks best. Abram will be told by the LORD to lift up his eyes and see what the LORD has given. Two different ways of looking, two different responses.

What Lot sees is the Jordan Valley well watered everywhere. The Hebrew compares it to two iconic places: the garden of the LORD (that is, Eden) and the land of Egypt. Both comparisons are loaded. The Jordan Valley looks like Eden, but Eden has been closed since Genesis 3. The Jordan Valley looks like Egypt, but Egypt was just the place where Abram failed. Lot sees with his eyes; he does not see with the eyes of faith. He sees lush land, fertile pasture, prosperity. He does not see what is actually there. He does not see Sodom.

This was before the LORD destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah. The text inserts a foreboding parenthesis. The reader knows what is coming. The Jordan Valley that looks like the garden of the LORD will soon be destroyed by fire and brimstone. The land that looks like Egypt is, in fact, the doomed land of Sodom. Lot has chosen — by the look of things — what will not last.

Abram settled in the land of Canaan, but Lot settled among the cities of the Jordan plain and pitched his tents next to Sodom. (Now the people of Sodom were extremely wicked rebels against the LORD.)

The phrase moved his tent as far as Sodom is one of the saddest understatements in Genesis. Lot has not just settled in the valley; he has gradually moved closer and closer to Sodom. The trajectory is going in one direction. Eventually, by Genesis 19, Lot will be living in Sodom and at the gate of the city — the place where city elders did business. The slide is gradual. It begins with a single decision to settle near Sodom. It ends with Lot inside Sodom on the night of its destruction. This is how compromise works: one small step at a time, toward what looks well-watered, until the looker is too far in to escape easily.

The text closes with a moral assessment we are not allowed to miss. The men of Sodom were wicked, great sinners against the LORD. Lot’s decision was made on the basis of what looked well-watered. The LORD’s assessment was already in: the men of that place were wicked. Lot did not weigh that in his choosing. He looked at the land. He did not look at the people he was choosing to live near. The lifting up of his eyes was a lifting up of his eyes to the land alone, ignoring what was in the land.

Lift Up Your Eyes

(Now the people of Sodom were extremely wicked rebels against the LORD.) After Lot had departed, the LORD said to Abram, “Look from the place where you stand to the north, south, east, and west. I will give all the land that you see to you and your descendants forever. And I will make your descendants like the dust of the earth, so that if anyone is able to count the dust of the earth, then your descendants also can be counted. Get up and walk throughout the land, for I will give it to you.”

The LORD speaks. The parallel to Lot’s seeing in verse 10 is unmistakable. Lift up your eyes — the same Hebrew verb. But Lot lifted up his eyes to choose what looked best to him. Abram is told by the LORD to lift up his eyes and see what the LORD has given.

There is a profound difference between these two kinds of seeing. Lot’s seeing was acquisitive — what can I get? Abram’s seeing is receptive — what has been given? Lot’s eyes traced a perimeter for his own choosing. Abram’s eyes will trace the perimeter the LORD has drawn around his inheritance.

Northward and southward and eastward and westward. Four directions. The whole land. The LORD is not giving Abram a parcel; He is giving him a country, indeed the country — the land of Canaan in its entirety, forever.

I will give to you and to your offspring forever. The promise is permanent. The grant of the land to Abram’s descendants is not for a generation only. It is a perpetual inheritance. The Old Testament will return to this promise repeatedly. The exile, when it eventually comes, will not be the cancellation of the promise — the prophets will insist that the LORD’s gift of the land to Abraham’s seed remains in effect. The eschatological hope of God’s people is, in part, a return to the land that the LORD gave to Abraham forever.

And I will make your descendants like the dust of the earth, so that if anyone is able to count the dust of the earth, then your descendants also can be counted.

The seed-promise is given a new image. Earlier — in 12:2 — the LORD said I will make of you a great nation. Now the multiplication of the seed is compared to the dust of the earth. Try to count the dust. You cannot. So also you cannot count the offspring of Abram. The promise is staggering. The man with a barren wife is told that his descendants will be as numerous as the dust.

A few chapters later (Genesis 15:5), the LORD will use a different image: Look toward heaven, and number the stars, if you are able to number them. The dust of the earth and the stars of heaven — two images of innumerable multitude. Both will be applied to Abram’s offspring. The seed-line of Genesis 3:15, given by promise, will produce a multitude beyond counting.

Get up and walk throughout the land, for I will give it to you.”

The LORD commands Abram to walk through the land. The command has a legal sense in the ancient Near East — to walk through a piece of land was, in some contexts, to take possession of it. Abram is being told to take possession by walking. He will not yet own the land; his descendants will. But by walking through it, he is, in a real sense, claiming it on behalf of those who will come after him.

So Abram moved his tents and went to live by the oaks of Mamre in Hebron, and he built an altar to the LORD there.

Abram settles at the oaks of Mamre, near Hebron. Hebron — Chevron in Hebrew, meaning association or alliance — will become a significant place. It will be Abram’s home for most of the rest of his life. It is where Sarah will eventually be buried, in the cave of Machpelah. It is where Abram himself will be buried. It is where Isaac will live. It is where David will reign for seven years before taking Jerusalem. The oaks of Mamre will be one of the central locations of the patriarchal narrative.

And Abram does what he always does in a new place — he builds an altar. The pattern continues. Wherever the LORD reveals Himself, wherever Abram settles, wherever he wishes to mark the LORD’s claim on a place, he builds an altar. He plants the worship of the LORD wherever he goes.

The War of the Kings

Genesis 14 opens with what reads almost like a modern news report. Real kings, real geography, real military conflict.

At that time Amraphel king of Shinar, Arioch king of Ellasar, Kedorlaomer king of Elam, and Tidal king of nations went to war against Bera king of Sodom, Birsha king of Gomorrah, Shinab king of Admah, Shemeber king of Zeboyim, and the king of Bela (that is, Zoar).

Four kings from the east — Amraphel of Shinar (the land we know now as Babylonia), Arioch of Ellasar, Chedorlaomer of Elam (modern southwestern Iran), and Tidal of Goiim — have formed a coalition. Their opponents are five kings of the cities of the Jordan valley, including Sodom and Gomorrah. The text gives us the names with the precision of an ancient chronicle. The historical reality of the conflict matters; the narrator is not telling a parable. The narrator presents this as real history — a war fought by named kings in a specific place, not a parable. External corroboration for the specific kings named in Genesis 14 is limited (the names have not been securely identified in extrabiblical sources), but the account carries the marks of historical narrative rather than legend.

For twelve years they had served Kedorlaomer, but in the thirteenth year they rebelled. In the fourteenth year, Kedorlaomer and the kings who were his allies came and defeated the Rephaites in Ashteroth Karnaim, the Zuzites in Ham, the Emites in Shaveh Kiriathaim, and the Horites in their hill country of Seir, as far as El Paran, which is near the desert. Then they attacked En Mishpat (that is, Kadesh) again, and they conquered all the territory of the Amalekites, as well as the Amorites who were living in Hazezon Tamar.

The eastern coalition is sweeping through the region with military force. The named peoples — the Rephaim, the Zuzim, the Emim, the Horites, the Amalekites, the Amorites — are all real groups, some of them famous later in Old Testament history. The Rephaim, for example, will be encountered by Israel in the days of Joshua and David; they were known for their tall stature. The campaign of Chedorlaomer is a major regional war. It is also, incidentally, a clear demonstration that the LORD’s promise to give Abram’s offspring this whole land will not be a small matter. The land is full of established peoples who will not simply step aside. A note on the Amalekites in Genesis 14:7. Amalek, the eponymous ancestor of the Amalekites, will not be born until the days of Esau (Genesis 36:12). The Genesis 14 mention likely reflects the editorial-update convention of a later editor using the familiar regional name for the territory the group would later inhabit, or a proleptic naming.

Then the king of Sodom, the king of Gomorrah, the king of Admah, the king of Zeboyim, and the king of Bela (that is, Zoar) went out and prepared for battle. In the Valley of Siddim they met Kedorlaomer king of Elam, Tidal king of nations, Amraphel king of Shinar, and Arioch king of Ellasar. Four kings fought against five.

The five local kings make their stand. They lose.

Now the Valley of Siddim was full of tar pits. When the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah fled, they fell into them, but some survivors fled to the hills. The four victorious kings took all the possessions and food of Sodom and Gomorrah and left. They also took Abram’s nephew Lot and his possessions when they left, for Lot was living in Sodom.

Sodom is sacked. The wealth of the city is carried off. The captives are led away. And among the captives is Lot — the son of Abram’s brother… who was dwelling in Sodom. The compromise that began with Lot pitching his tent toward Sodom has now matured into Lot dwelling in Sodom. He is no longer near it; he is in it. And he goes into captivity with its citizens. Lot has bound his fate to a wicked city, and now he shares its fate.

A fugitive came and told Abram the Hebrew. Now Abram was living by the oaks of Mamre the Amorite, the brother of Eshcol and Aner. (All these were allied by treaty with Abram.)

The news reaches Abram. Notice the title: Abram the Hebrew. This is the first time anyone is called a Hebrew in the Bible. The name Hebrew — Ivri — comes from Eber, the ancestor we noted in Session 10. The line of Shem narrows, through Eber, to the people called Hebrews, and Abram is the first man in Scripture to bear the name. Abram is the original Hebrew.

He is also, the text tells us, a man with allies. He has formed friendships and confederacies with three Amorite brothers — Mamre, Eshcol, and Aner. The man who is a sojourner in a foreign land has nevertheless made bonds with the people of the land. These three Amorites will fight beside him.

When Abram heard that his nephew had been taken captive, he mobilized his 318 trained men who had been born in his household, and he pursued the invaders as far as Dan. Then, during the night, Abram divided his forces against them and defeated them. He chased them as far as Hobah, which is north of Damascus. He retrieved all the stolen property. He also brought back his nephew Lot and his possessions, as well as the women and the rest of the people.

Abram acts. The text tells us he had 318 trained men, born in his house. The number is precise — Abram is no nomad with a few servants; he has built up a substantial household, with trained warriors he can lead into battle. The patriarch is a man of weight. And when his nephew is in trouble, Abram does not hesitate. He pursues. As far as Dan — across the breadth of what will be the land of Israel — and as far as Hobah, north of Damascus. The pursuit takes Abram well beyond the borders of Canaan into modern Syria. The campaign is impressive. The LORD has given Abram victory over the coalition that swept through the region. And he has rescued Lot.

This is the first military action in the Bible. Abram is not a pacifist. The man who has been called to be a blessing to all the families of the earth is willing to take up arms to rescue his kinsman from captivity. The biblical witness on the use of force is complex; this episode is one of its early data points. The defense of the innocent against unjust violence is, here, the action of a man in fellowship with the LORD.

The military victory is striking, but the chapter’s real climax is what happens when Abram returns.

After Abram returned from defeating Kedorlaomer and the kings who were with him, the king of Sodom went out to meet Abram in the Valley of Shaveh (known as the King’s Valley).

The king of Sodom comes out to meet Abram. He is the king of the wicked city, the city the LORD will eventually destroy by fire. He has business with Abram. We will hear his proposal in a moment.

But before the king of Sodom speaks, another king appears.

Melchizedek king of Salem brought out bread and wine. (Now he was the priest of the Most High God.) He blessed Abram, saying, “Blessed be Abram by the Most High God, Creator of heaven and earth. Worthy of praise is the Most High God, who delivered your enemies into your hand.” Abram gave Melchizedek a tenth of everything.

In just three verses (Genesis 14:18–20), Melchizedek appears, blesses Abram, receives a tithe, and disappears. He is mentioned by name only once more in the entire Old Testament — in Psalm 110:4. That psalmic reference will become the New Testament’s anchor for unfolding what Melchizedek means.

Walk slowly through these three verses.

Melchizedek king of Salem. The Hebrew name Malki-tsedek breaks into two parts: malki (my king) and tsedek (righteousness). His name means king of righteousness or my king is righteousness. He is the first person in Scripture explicitly called a king of righteousness. King of Salem. Salem — Shalem in Hebrew — is widely understood to be Jerusalem. Psalm 76:2 names Salem and Zion in parallel: His abode has been established in Salem, his dwelling place in Zion. The author of Hebrews will pick this up: He is first, by translation of his name, king of righteousness, and then he is also king of Salem, that is, king of peace (Hebrews 7:2). Salem — Shalem — is from the same root as shalom, peace. Melchizedek is, in his name and his city, king of righteousness and king of peace. Both titles will, in the fullness of time, belong to Christ.

Brought out bread and wine. What we are told he brings out, with no further commentary in Genesis, is bread and wine. This is one of the great moments of foreshadowing in the Old Testament. Two thousand years later, on the night He was betrayed, the true King of Righteousness and King of Peace will sit at table with His disciples and bring out — bread and wine. This is my body… this is my blood. The Lord’s Supper, when it is instituted by Christ, will be instituted with the same two elements that Melchizedek brought to Abram. The Christian tradition has seen Melchizedek’s offering as a typological anticipation of the Lord’s Supper from the earliest centuries. We do not impose this meaning on the Genesis text. We notice the pattern. The bread and the wine — the divinely appointed elements of the Supper — were already there, in the hands of the king-priest who blessed Abram, before there was a Mosaic sacrificial system, before there was a temple, before there was any other Old Testament priest. The Christian tradition has long meditated on this bread and wine — brought out by the first priest named in Scripture — as a distant foreshadowing.

(He was priest of God Most High.) The parenthetical statement is theologically loaded. Melchizedek is priest of God Most High — kohen le-El Elyon. This is the first time the word priest (kohen) appears in Scripture. The first priest named in the Bible is not Aaron, not a Levite, not an Israelite at all. The first priest is Melchizedek, the king of Salem, serving God Most High — the same God Abram worships, identified now by the name El Elyon. Melchizedek is a priest of the true God before Israel even exists, before the Mosaic priesthood is established. He stands as evidence that the worship of the true God has not been confined to Abraham’s line alone. There has been, in the world around Abram, at least one other faithful priest of the LORD.

And he blessed him. Melchizedek blesses Abram. The greater always blesses the lesser, the author of Hebrews will later observe (Hebrews 7:7). When Melchizedek blesses Abram, Melchizedek is the greater, Abram is the lesser. This is a remarkable theological move. Abram is the called one, the bearer of the promise, the patriarch through whom all the families of the earth will be blessed. And yet Abram receives blessing from Melchizedek. Melchizedek stands, in this brief encounter, in a position above Abram.

“Blessed be Abram by God Most High, Possessor of heaven and earth; and blessed be God Most High, who has delivered your enemies into your hand!” Melchizedek’s blessing is theologically rich. He invokes God Most High, he names Him as Possessor of heaven and earth, and he attributes Abram’s victory directly to the LORD’s hand. This is genuine confession of the true God. The man is not a syncretist; he is a faithful priest of the LORD.

And Abram gave him a tenth of everything. Abram responds with a tithe. He gives Melchizedek one-tenth of all the spoils he had recovered. This is the first tithe in Scripture. It is not commanded; it is offered. Abram, recognizing in Melchizedek a true priest of the true God, gives the tithe as an act of worship — acknowledging Melchizedek’s priestly authority and the LORD’s claim on the spoils of war.

The encounter is brief. Melchizedek does not stay. He does not become a recurring character in the patriarchal narrative. He blesses, receives the tithe, and disappears. The text of Genesis tells us no more about him. He has no recorded genealogy, no recorded death, no further appearance in the Genesis narrative. He simply appears and disappears, like a figure stepping out from behind a curtain to make an essential gesture and stepping back behind it.

The author of Hebrews will make much of this absence of detail.

The Lifted Hand

Now the king of Sodom speaks.

Then the king of Sodom said to Abram, “Give me the people and take the possessions for yourself.”

The king of Sodom’s offer is straightforward. Abram has rescued the captives — including the people of Sodom — and recovered the goods that the eastern coalition had taken. The king of Sodom wants his people back. In exchange, Abram can keep all the recovered property. It is, by the customs of the ancient world, a generous offer. Abram has just risked his life and the lives of his 318 men to recover what Sodom had lost. He could reasonably claim a substantial reward.

Abram refuses.

Then the king of Sodom said to Abram, “Give me the people and take the possessions for yourself.” But Abram replied to the king of Sodom, “I raise my hand to the LORD, the Most High God, Creator of heaven and earth, and vow that I will take nothing belonging to you, not even a thread or the strap of a sandal. That way you can never say, ‘It is I who made Abram rich.’ I will take nothing except compensation for what the young men have eaten. As for the share of the men who went with me—Aner, Eshcol, and Mamre—let them take their share.”

The contrast between Abram’s response to the king of Sodom and his response to Melchizedek is striking. From Melchizedek, Abram received bread and wine and a blessing, and gave a tithe in return. From the king of Sodom, Abram refuses to take anything — not even a thread or a sandal strap. He does not want the king of Sodom to be able to say later, I have made Abram rich. Abram’s wealth will come from the LORD, not from a wicked king.

Notice the phrase: I have lifted my hand to the LORD. Lifting the hand was the gesture of swearing an oath. Abram has, evidently, already made a vow before God Most High — perhaps at the moment of the battle, perhaps in his heart before — that he will not take spoil from this conflict for himself. He has consecrated himself to the LORD in this matter. He will not be entangled with Sodom. The wealth of Sodom — the very wealth of the city whose men were wicked, great sinners against the LORD — will not enrich the man through whom all the families of the earth will be blessed.

This is one of the most important moments of Abram’s spiritual discernment. He distinguishes between two sources of blessing. From Melchizedek, the priest of God Most High, blessing is received gladly and reciprocated with the tithe. From the king of Sodom, gain is refused. Abram knows the difference between the table of Melchizedek and the table of Sodom. He will eat at one. He will not eat at the other.

The pastoral application is straightforward. The Christian who would walk faithfully with the LORD must learn to distinguish between the bread and wine of the LORD’s table and the offers of the world’s kings. Some sources of blessing are God-given and to be received with thanksgiving. Some offers of gain look attractive but come from places that will entangle the believer with what God has set against. Abram, in this chapter, models the discernment. He receives the right kind of blessing and refuses the wrong kind of gain. I have lifted my hand to the LORD.

A Priest Forever

The brief Melchizedek encounter could easily have been forgotten. It is three verses in the middle of a chapter about a war. Melchizedek does not return in the Genesis narrative. The Pentateuch will continue without further reference to him.

But a thousand years later, the psalmist David picks up Melchizedek’s name.

In Psalm 110, David writes one of the most messianic psalms in the Old Testament. It opens: The LORD says to my Lord, “Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool” (Psalm 110:1). The psalm is about a coming Messiah — David’s Lord, enthroned at the LORD’s right hand. And in verse 4, this Messiah is given a priestly identity:

The LORD makes this promise on oath and will not revoke it: “You are an eternal priest after the pattern of Melchizedek.”

The coming Messiah is not just a king. He is a priest — and a priest of a particular order. Not the order of Aaron (the priesthood Israel would receive at Sinai), but the order of Melchizedek (the priesthood from before Israel, from before the Mosaic system, from a king-priest who appeared and disappeared in Genesis 14).

Why does this matter? Because the priesthood of Aaron was established by genealogy and ended at death. Aaron’s sons inherited it. They served for a generation and then died, and their sons took their places. The Aaronic priesthood was, in a real sense, a priesthood of mortality — each individual priest ministered for a limited time and then died.

The priesthood of Melchizedek, by contrast, was established directly by God’s appointment and is not tied to genealogy or to death. Melchizedek had no recorded father or mother. He had no recorded death. He simply was — a priest of God Most High — without recorded beginning or end. The psalmist David, writing as a prophet, anticipates a Messiah whose priesthood will be like Melchizedek’s, not like Aaron’s. The Messiah will be a priest forever.

The New Testament makes the identification explicit. The writer of Hebrews dedicates several chapters to developing this argument. In Hebrews 5, 6, 7, and 8, the priesthood of Christ after the order of Melchizedek becomes one of the central themes of the letter. The writer’s logic runs like this:

Christ is the priest the psalmist anticipated. When Psalm 110:4 says you are a priest forever after the order of Melchizedek, the you is Christ.

Christ’s priesthood is superior to the Levitical priesthood. The Levitical priests were many because they died; Christ is one because He lives forever. The Levitical priests offered sacrifices for their own sins as well as for the people’s; Christ, sinless, offered Himself once for all. The Levitical priests served in a sanctuary made with hands; Christ entered the true heavenly sanctuary. The Levitical priests’ work was never finished; Christ’s it is finished on the cross was a final, complete offering.

Christ’s priesthood is anchored in Melchizedek. The fact that Melchizedek was without recorded father, mother, genealogy, beginning, or end — the writer of Hebrews notes this carefully (Hebrews 7:3) — makes him a fitting type of the eternal Son of God. Resembling the Son of God, he continues a priest forever (Hebrews 7:3). Melchizedek’s appearance in Genesis 14, as a king-priest of righteousness and peace, without recorded ancestry or death, is the template that prepares the way for the eternal priesthood of Christ.

Abram’s tithe to Melchizedek demonstrates Melchizedek’s superiority over even the Levitical priesthood. The writer of Hebrews makes this remarkable argument in Hebrews 7:4–10. When Abram tithed to Melchizedek, the future Levitical priesthood — still in Abram’s loins, since Levi was descended from Abram through Isaac and Jacob — tithed in him. Levi, in Abram’s body, gave tithes to Melchizedek. The Levitical priesthood, which received tithes from Israel, itself paid tithes (through Abram) to Melchizedek. Therefore Melchizedek’s priesthood is greater than the Levitical priesthood. And Christ, being a priest after the order of Melchizedek, has a priesthood greater than the Levitical one — a priesthood that the Levitical one was never able to be.

The Lutheran reader will note the implications. Christ’s priestly work on the cross is not just a sacrifice; it is a once-for-all priestly action by a priest whose priesthood is eternal. The forgiveness Christ secures is not a temporary forgiveness like the Levitical sacrifices repeated year by year. It is a permanent forgiveness, given by a priest who lives forever to intercede. He is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them (Hebrews 7:25). The eternal priesthood of Christ guarantees the eternal validity of the forgiveness He has secured.

This is why Melchizedek matters. The brief encounter in Genesis 14 is not a decorative detail. It is the original anchor of the doctrine that Christ is our great High Priest. Every time we say in the Apostles’ Creed that Christ is seated at the right hand of God the Father Almighty — every time we hear the Words of Institution at the Lord’s Supper and confess that this is my body, given for you — every time we receive the forgiveness of sins through the absolution — we are receiving from a priest who serves after the order of Melchizedek. The bread and wine that Melchizedek brought to Abram find their fulfillment in the bread and wine of our Lord’s Supper. The blessing that Melchizedek pronounced over Abram finds its fulfillment in the blessing Christ pronounces over the church. The eternal priesthood that the psalmist anticipated is the priesthood we now have in Christ — a priest forever, for our forgiveness, for our intercession, for our life.

Gathering the Threads

Genesis 13 and Genesis 14 cover a lot of ground. Abram and Lot separate, with Lot pitching his tent toward Sodom. The LORD renews the promise of the land to Abram. A coalition of eastern kings invades the region and takes Lot captive. Abram pursues with his 318 trained men and recovers what was taken. And in three verses near the end of the second chapter, Melchizedek appears with bread and wine and a blessing.

The session has shown us several things.

It has shown us the difference between two kinds of seeing. Lot lifted up his eyes and chose what looked best to him. Abram lifted up his eyes — at the LORD’s command — and saw what the LORD had given. The same Hebrew verb, two different ways of looking. The believer’s eyes are taught to see by the word of the LORD, not by the visible attractiveness of the immediate moment.

It has shown us the patriarch’s generosity. Abram, the elder and the recipient of the promise, gave Lot the choice of the land. This is faith working through love. The believer who trusts the LORD’s promise can afford to be generous because his future does not depend on his own grasping.

It has shown us Abram as warrior. The patriarch is not a passive man. When his kinsman was in danger, Abram took up arms and pursued the enemy. The biblical witness on the rightful use of force begins to take shape here. Abram fought to rescue. He did not fight to enrich himself.

It has shown us the contrast between two kings. The king of Sodom offered Abram entanglement; the king of Salem offered Abram blessing. Abram discerned the difference. He refused the wealth of Sodom and received the bread and wine of Salem. He gave a tithe to Melchizedek but would not take a thread or a sandal strap from the king of the wicked city. I have lifted my hand to the LORD.

It has shown us Melchizedek — king of righteousness, king of peace, priest of God Most High, bringing bread and wine, blessing Abram, receiving the first tithe in Scripture, then disappearing from the Genesis narrative. The brief encounter sets the template for the priesthood of Christ that the rest of Scripture will unfold.

And it has shown us the foundation of the doctrine of Christ’s eternal priesthood. You are a priest forever, after the order of Melchizedek, Psalm 110:4 anticipates. Hebrews 7 develops it. Christ is the High Priest who lives forever, whose offering is once-for-all, whose intercession is permanent, whose blessing covers His people. Every Lord’s Supper, every absolution, every assurance of forgiveness depends on this — that we have a priest whose priesthood does not end at death, whose work is finished, whose blessing is eternal.

Next session, we turn to Genesis 15 and Genesis 16. The LORD will appear to Abram in a vision. He will reaffirm the seed-promise — look toward heaven, and number the stars, if you are able to number them. Abram will believe the LORD, and the LORD counted it to him as righteousness (Genesis 15:6) — the most quoted Old Testament verse in the New Testament, the foundational text of justification by faith. The LORD will cut the covenant with Abram in a strange ceremony of split animals and a flaming torch. And then, in chapter 16, the failure: Abram and Sarai, growing impatient with the LORD’s timing, will try to produce the seed by their own means, through Hagar. Ishmael will be born. The complications of unbelief in the seed-line begin.

For Discussion

The following questions are for group discussion or personal reflection.

Lot lifted up his eyes and chose the well-watered Jordan valley by what looked best to him. Lift up your eyes, the LORD told Abram, and see what He had given. Where in your life are you tempted to lift up your eyes to what looks best, rather than to what the LORD has given? How does the gospel reshape the way we look?
Abram, as the elder and the recipient of the promise, gave Lot the choice of the land. He could afford to be generous because his future was not in his hands but in the LORD’s. Where in your life is your trust in the LORD’s promise opening you to greater generosity? Where is it being tested?
Abram took up arms to rescue Lot — the first military action in the Bible. What does this episode teach us about the legitimate defense of others against unjust violence? How does this work, alongside Christ’s own teaching about turning the other cheek, in shaping a Lutheran understanding of force and peace?
And Melchizedek king of Salem brought out bread and wine. The first priest named in Scripture brings bread and wine to bless Abram. How does this small detail in Genesis 14 point forward to the Lord’s Supper? What does it mean to you to receive bread and wine each Sunday from the One who is a priest forever after the order of Melchizedek?
Abram refused to take any of the spoils of Sodom — not a thread or a sandal strap — because he had lifted his hand to the LORD. The contrast with his acceptance of Melchizedek’s blessing is striking. Where in your own life have you needed to discern between the bread and wine of the LORD’s table and the offers of the world’s kings?
Hebrews 7 develops Melchizedek into one of the most important Old Testament types of Christ. Christ is a priest forever — His priesthood is permanent, His sacrifice once-for-all, His intercession continual. How does the eternal priesthood of Christ shape your assurance of forgiveness? How does it shape your reception of the Lord’s Supper?

Looking Ahead

Session 13 brings us to Genesis 15 and Genesis 16 — two of the most important chapters in the Abrahamic narrative.

Genesis 15 contains the verse that the New Testament will quote more than almost any other verse in the Old Testament: And he believed the LORD, and he counted it to him as righteousness (Genesis 15:6). Paul will quote it in Romans 4 and Galatians 3. James will quote it in James 2. The doctrine of justification by faith — the heart of Lutheran theology — has its foundational Old Testament anchor in this single sentence. We will spend significant time on it.

The chapter also contains a strange and beautiful covenant ceremony. The LORD tells Abram to take certain animals, cut them in half, and arrange the halves opposite one another. As darkness falls, Abram falls into a deep sleep. A smoking fire pot and a flaming torch pass between the divided pieces. The LORD is cutting covenant with Abram — and He passes between the pieces alone. Abram does not walk through. The covenant is unilateral. The LORD binds Himself, by Himself, with the symbolic implication that He would Himself bear the curse of covenant-breach — a curse the Son would take upon Himself at the cross (Galatians 3:13). The cross is foreshadowed in the flaming torch.

Genesis 16 then turns to the first major moment of unbelief in the Abrahamic narrative. Sarai, growing impatient with the LORD’s timing, gives her servant Hagar to Abram as a concubine. Hagar conceives Ishmael. The complications begin. The chapter ends with a remarkable encounter — Hagar, fleeing into the wilderness, meets the angel of the LORD by a well. She becomes the first person in Scripture to give God a name: El-Roi, “the God who sees me.” The treatment of Hagar, who has often been pushed to the margins of the Genesis narrative, deserves careful attention.

Before next session, read Genesis 15 and Genesis 16 in full. As you read, watch for: Abram’s complaint that he has no children (15:2); the LORD’s promise of stars (15:5); the great verse, 15:6; the covenant ceremony (15:7–21); the proposal of Hagar (16:1–4); Hagar’s flight (16:6–8); her naming of God (16:13); and the birth of Ishmael (16:15–16).

Closing Prayer

Lord God, who taught Abram to lift up his eyes and see what You had given, who rescued his nephew through his hand, who sent Melchizedek to bless him with bread and wine and the name of God Most High — we worship You. Thank You for the eternal Priest who has come, the King of Righteousness and the King of Peace, who lives forever to intercede for us. Thank You for the Lord’s Supper, in which the bread and wine that Melchizedek brought to Abram are given to us by the One who is the true Melchizedek — Your Son Jesus Christ. Where we, like Lot, have been tempted to lift up our eyes to what looks best, teach us to lift up our eyes only to what You give. Where we, like Abram, are tempted to enrich ourselves from the table of wicked kings, give us the courage to lift our hand to You and refuse. And bring us, again and again, to the table where the true Priest of God Most High serves us His own body and blood — that we may receive Your blessing, give You our tithe of every good thing, and walk with You as faithful sojourners in a land we do not yet possess but that has been promised forever. Through Jesus Christ our Great High Priest, after the order of Melchizedek, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, world without end. Amen.