The relatively recent interest among evangelicals in engaging ancient Christian tradition is without question a welcome development.1 However, unlike earlier voices that valued the early post-apostolic church’s theologizing within the context of the Reformation’s sola scriptura hermeneutic,2 recent voices appear to assign categories like necessity and normatively to a “patristic hermeneutic.” D. H. Williams, for example, writes in the introduction to Baker Academic’s Evangelical Ressourcement series, “If evangelicalism aims to be doctrinally orthodox and exegetically faithful to Scripture, it cannot do so without recourse to and integration of the foundational tradition of the early church.”3 This and similar claims for the mind of the Fathers being a kind of ground zero in the hermeneutical task,4 in my view have not sufficiently attended to the Bible’s own deep hermeneutical structure of the new covenant and the post-apostolic church’s legacy with it. To this end this essay makes three distinct claims:
- The theology of the new covenant is central to the story of the Old and NT and so comprises the canonical tradition.
- The patristic church did not pay sufficient attention to the canonical tradition of the new covenant.
- Therefore, by implication, the claims for the patristic church’s necessity and normativity in the hermeneutical question must be moderated accordingly.
For the apostles Jesus was no doubt the center of God’s Story (Eph 1:9–10), but he was not the beginning of it. That Story was a covenanted movement of God emerging from the OT that the NT canonical writers saw fulfilled in Jesus. It is not merely Jesus who was the center of the apostles’ thought, but Jesus as fulfillment of the new covenant that provides the hermeneutical key for understanding Scripture’s Story and the standard by which the church of any era, including the patristic, must be measured.
1. The Canonical Nature of the Apostolic New Covenant Hermeneutic
1.1. The Eclipse of the New Covenant in Biblical Theology
What do we mean by the new covenant? The locus classicus in Jer 31:31–34, together with its other prophetic enunciations, reveal the nucleus of provisions for which God’s people would look in the coming age. They are broadly categorized as:
- a new measure of the Holy Spirit’s presence in the human heart providing
- a divinely immanent impulse to know and obey Yahweh’s will that would
- make obsolete all mediation to fellowship with Yahweh himself, entailing radical changes in the functioning of the Law and the temple institution to which it was tied.5
- In continuity with the overarching covenant program of Scripture, especially the covenant made with Abraham, the prophets made clear that the inaugurator of the new covenant would be Yahweh’s anointed Servant and that the blessings of the covenant would reach beyond the individual’s heart to include
- a revived Israelite nation and
- a renewal of the creation itself.
- The basis of these provisions was Yahweh’s final resolution of the sin-problem in a gracious forgiveness of his peoples’ sin.7
While it might seem counterintuitive for biblical theology concerned with the NT corpus, the new covenant per se finds little heuristic value for modern practitioners of NT theology. I. Howard Marshall’s recent New Testament Theology may stand as a case in point. Only a brief footnote on page 719 is all that we are offered of the new covenant as the hermeneutic key to understanding the NT writers’ interpretation of Jesus: “The old covenant-new covenant distinction is not at all that prominent on the surface of the New Testament, but it seems to underlie Christian thinking on the understanding of the progress of salvation history.” But in this neglect of the new covenant, Marshall is in good company. Other NT theologies having little or no significant treatment of the new covenant include those by Ladd, Morris, Goppelt, Guthrie, and more recently Schreiner and Thielman.8
Part of the reason for this lack of attention to the new covenant Marshall does supply, namely, its relative rare appearance on the pages of the NT—indeed, just one mention by Jesus, a couple of times in Paul, and a few scant chapters in Hebrews. Another part of the reason also lies in the way scholarship has tended to isolate the Testaments and leave OT theology and NT theology as what Barr calls “separate blocks.”9 Fortunately for the discipline, there appears to be a revival of the view that the individual parts cannot be understood without grasping the whole and that grasping the meaning of the whole forces a review of the parts. Other voices are now calling for a more systematic treatment of the entire corpus of Scripture: “pan-biblical theology” (Gese), or “intermediate theology” (Scobie), or merely the one biblical theology as William Dumbrell calls it.10 Offering the same prospective for the new covenant as a longitudinal theme in Scripture are thinkers of theological method and hermeneutics like Vanhoozer and Dockery, who call evangelical theology to a “canon competence” above all as we exposit the glorious theology of the gospel for our day.11
1.2. The New Covenant in the New Testament
As the concept of the covenant being the organizing theme of OT theology again claims new advocates in the academy,12 I argue that the same needs to be taken up in the NT. Only a suggestive menu can be attempted here, but there is no doubt that more should be made of the new-covenant script as the bridge from the older testament that the writers of the NT travelled in their reflections and interpretation of Jesus of Nazareth. The fact that “new covenant” is rare terminology in the NT should not deflect us from seeing its magisterial highway running throughout the entire NT. Marshall is right: the new covenant underlies the canonical tradition’s account of the progress of salvation history.13
1.2.1 The New Covenant in Jesus
We begin our brief survey of the canonical new-covenant tradition with Jesus. His appearance in the Gospels as the preacher and worker of the deeds of the kingdom in every way hearkens to the prophetic new covenant.14 As the fulfillment of the Law (Matt 5:18), Jesus comes as the new Moses authoritatively delivering his own commandments.15 He is the unique Spirit-bearer and baptizer (Luke 4:16ff) who inaugurates the kingdom age characterized by a new work in the human heart (John 3:3–5) and new interiorized standards of Yahweh’s Torah (Mark 7:15).16 The presentation of the fatherhood of God and the new means by which the Father and he will dwell with his people establishes the covenant’s sonship ideal for the relationship between God and his people.17 Likewise, Jesus sidesteps the mediating temple cult as he presents himself as the new institution of atonement in the scandalous claim to forgive sins (e.g., Mark 1:41) and to stand as Lord of the temple sacralizing all times and all places (John 4:20–24). 18
The zenith of Jesus’ revelation of the new covenant—and its only explicit mention in the Gospel record—however, is the last-supper formula for the cup: “this is the new covenant in my blood” (Luke 22:20 cf. Mark 14:24).19 Matthew’s addition here of “for the forgiveness of sins” (Matt 26:28) is significant and leaves no doubt of the new-covenant predication of forgiveness of sins as the condition for all the blessings of the new age to be realized. There would be no new movement of God by his Spirit toward the creation, no interiorization of the Torah in the heart of God’s people, no restoration of Israelite sovereignty or renewed created order without a decisive movement against sin and the one who stood armed with its decree. Elsewhere the Gospel writers keenly show Jesus as Isaiah’s Suffering Servant who “bore the sins of many” (Isa 53:6, 12; cf. Mark 10:45; 14:24)—a note to the universal character of the Servant’s role as “light to the nations” (Isa 42:6; 49:7–8), and as the one who would bind the “strong man” who contended with God’s people (Isa 49:24–25; cf. Matt 12:44).20 The climax of divine resolution of the sin problem is reached at the cross when the veil of the temple that symbolized the mediated access to God in the old covenant tears top to bottom as the blood of the new covenant is shed.21 Thus it should be no surprise to us that in the complex of these momentous events a new meal is instituted from the hands of the new Moses for his new community.22
The significance of the new covenant’s appearance in the passion narratives is also marked by its correlation there with Jesus’ rhetorical motif of the kingdom of God. The covenant form of the language in Jesus’ words to his disciples in Luke 22:29, “I appoint unto you a kingdom,” has been duly noted by scholars,23 but beyond this, the promise of v. 30 that the disciples would share Jesus’ table in his kingdom (cf. Luke 22:18) and judge the twelve tribes of Israel retains the elements of the covenant and kingdom Story that began with Abraham and that would see fulfillment in all of the world through the people and land of Israel.24
This brief survey of the new covenant in the ministry of Jesus concludes as Jesus sends his disciples out with the kerygma of the new covenant. The Lukan Great Commission, “that repentance for forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in His name to all the nations, beginning from Jerusalem,” (Luke 24:47) effectively links the new-covenant provision of repentance for forgiveness to the message the church carried throughout Acts (forgiveness [α??φεσις] at Acts 2:38; 5:31; 10:43; 13:38; 26:18; repentance [μετα?νοια] at Acts 5:31; 11:18; 13:24; 19:4; 20:21; 26:20.25 The new covenant’s Spirit, who makes rare appearance in the Synoptic Gospels, appears in Acts as the heart of the “promise of the Father” (Acts 1:4; 2:33) orchestrating the formation and growth of the church as well as its proclamation of the forgiveness of sin.26 The Spirit’s mission also proclaims hope for the nation of Israel to restore their function before the nations—only this time in Christ (Acts 1:6; 3:18, 21; 26:6–7).27 Finally, the new covenant interfaces with the kingdom-of-God motif in Acts because, like forgiveness of sins, the kingdom also functions as cipher for the early church’s proclamation.28
1.2.2. The New Covenant in Paul
The continued ritual remembrance of the Lord’s death and resurrection in the apostolic churches after Jesus demonstrates the abiding presence of the new-covenant matrix for the early church’s tradition. But with many NT theologians, we may ask, “How central can something be that does not appear all that often on the pages of the NT?” The writings of Paul are a case in point.
Of course, the proposed “centers” of Paul’s theology are nearly as broad as the list of those offering them,29 but the claim of the new covenant to this role can hardly be overlooked for this apostle, who considers himself the “minister of a new covenant”(2 Cor 3:6).30 The progress of the covenant-program stands behind Paul’s whole kerygma: he proclaims the mystery of Christ internalized to the believer, the advent of the eschatological gift of the Spirit, the reconciling righteousness of Christ’s cross, and the destiny of his countrymen.31
As with the Gospel-tradition, for Paul the person of Christ marks both the continuity and advance of the covenant-program. Both continuity and progress of the covenant shine in the “mystery” now revealed in Paul’s gospel. What was mere hope for Jeremiah and his people, “Christ in you the hope of glory” (Col 1:27) is the dawn of a new age for Paul:
It is in light of this [Christ-Sinai parallel] that we are probably to understand his references to Christ being in him and living in him, the inwardness of the new covenant of Jeremiah’s hope is achieved for Paul through the indwelling Christ, the new Torah “written in the heart.” The Law within him is Christ in him; the indwelling Christ has replaced the old Torah written on tablets of stone and has become a Torah written within.32
Still connected to the past as its fulfillment, the participation of the believer’s life with Christ is also something truly new—a move from “holy religion to that of life”: “‘life in Christ,’ the ‘new life,’ that is the life of God himself communicated to his sons. . . . And that is something quite new.”33
The Spirit-letter or Spirit-law polarity in Paul’s writings illustrates his new-covenant thinking regarding the nature of Christian identity in the new age inaugurated by Christ. Paul makes the contrast clear in 2 Cor 3:1–6 and Gal 3–4, where he specifically puts it in terms of the two covenants. In answer to his Judaizing opponents who saw Christ as needing incorporation into the Law of Moses, Paul argues the opposite: the Law finds its fulfillment in Christ. And because the man Jesus fulfilled the Law, the new covenant has become a reality. The inherent limitations of an old covenant is undone as the required mediation by Moses, angels (cf. Gal 3:19), and the temple cult are now exchanged for the Law written “on the tablets of the human heart” (2 Cor 3:3), making the Spirit’s new temple in the believer’s body (1 Cor 6:19).34
The former covenant also in its limitations brought condemnation and death (2 Cor 3:7, 9), merely demonstrating—but not rectifying—the ravages of sin (Gal 3:10). But the forgiveness of sins provided in Christ’s cross was the new covenant’s way to righteousness abounding in glory (Rom 3:21–29; cf. 2 Cor 3:9).35 The cosmic victory of Christ’s cross achieved the new covenant’s defeat of the enemies who were armed themselves with the believer’s sins (Col 2:13–15). His blood removed the barrier to the full adoption of the believer as a new-covenant son or daughter (Col 1:19–22).36 For Paul, the new covenant was the means by which heaven’s order of salvation itself was near and available to the believer in Christ (Gal 4:21–31).37
The new covenant’s forgiveness also represents the means by which Paul’s countrymen according to the flesh would find their promised restoration as Yahweh’s national servant who would channel the blessings of the promise to the whole world. Rom 9–11 shows that in Christ the covenant promises to his people are not annulled, for God’s election is irrevocable (Rom 11:29); but the new exodus from sin’s bondage means that God’s plan for his people is still in force once they are found in Christ according to the new covenant’s promises: “And this is My covenant with them, when I take away their sins” (Rom 11:27). Paul makes it clear that non-Jews are also now Abraham’s heirs by faith, but he is just as clear that Gentiles join and do not replace Israel in the future fulfillment of the promise made to them through Abraham:
Theologically [the replacement of Israel’s election by the Church’s] is an impossible position for it calls in question not only God’s wisdom and power, but his faithfulness. Thus the very meaning of covenant in the biblical sense is annulled. In the context of prophetic revelation berit invariably means God’s “unswerving loyalty to Israel” and stands as a sign and token for “the faithfulness of the unchanging God.” Israel, therefore, must remain the am Yahwe not because he deserves it, but because the God of Israel is a Covenant-keeping God.38
This radical shift that the gospel of Christ had meant for Paul did not, thus, sever him from his OT covenant- and kingdom-roots. Paul was no innovator; he was a Jew preaching the Jewish Scriptures aware that his proclaiming “Christ crucified” was the final crucial link of a chain of events mapped out in a straight line to him and his people from his forefather Abraham.
1.2.3. The New Covenant in Hebrews
In accord with the new-covenant tradition already seen in Paul and the Gospels, the writer to the Hebrews also centers the advance in the covenant storyline in the person and work of Jesus Christ.39 In explicit terms, the high priesthood of Christ introduces the first occurrence of διαθ?κη 7:22, and from there the extensive exposition of the new covenant follows in chapters 8–10; but it would be a mistake to subsume the covenant-theme to the priesthood or other cultic motifs also prominent in this epistle. As Lehne and others have rightly noted, the deeper inner logic of the covenant grounds the author’s portrayal of Jesus’ superior priesthood (chs. 8–10) and his superior revelation (1:1–3).40
It is by means of the covenant-concept that the author of Hebrews charts both the continuity and discontinuity called for by the advent of the new covenant. Both realities appear in the context of the author’s treatment of the disposition of the older covenant’s cult in the new priesthood of Christ. While Jeremiah anticipates the demise of the Mosaic cult in Jer 31:34,41 the new covenant’s superiority is clear specifically in regards to its provision to forgive sins (also noted in Jer 31:34).42 Gräbe and others have documented this in the strategic placement of the Jer 31 text in the author’s argument.43 The citations from Jer 31 in Heb 8:8–13 and 10:16–17 form an inclusio to the main soteriological section of the epistle, which has its key center in 9:15: “And for this reason He is the mediator of a new covenant, in order that since a death has taken place for the redemption of the transgressions that were committed under the first covenant . . . .”44 The new covenant’s superior handling of the sin-problem is the fundamental axis around which the writer argues for the correspondence, contrast, and superiority of the new covenant to the old throughout the epistle, especially in chapters 8–10.45
The new covenant order corresponds to the old:
- Both are based upon a sovereign act of God on behalf of his people (8:8–13).
- In both covenants God’s people are summoned as an assembly bound by God’s word (12:18–24).
- Both orders are similarly inaugurated by a bloody ceremony involving the death of the victim (9:15–22).
- Both require allegiance and obedience to God to gain a promised inheritance (9:15).
Contrast is marked most prominently by the author’s comparing the two priesthoods associated with the two covenant-orders:
- mortal priests with genealogies vs. one high priest who lives forever (7:3)
- appointment by fleshly Law or commandment vs. appointment by word of an oath (7:28)
- priests offering for their own sins vs. one who is sinless (9:14)
- daily earthly offerings vs. a superior heavenly ministry (9:25)
- patterns of heavenly things vs. the real heavenly things themselves (9:11)
- holy places made with hands vs. heaven itself (9:24)
- many annual entries vs. one final entry (9:11)
- limited access and barriers vs. the real presence of God (10:20)
- no final purgation of sin vs. final removal of sins (9:9; 10:1–2; 10:14; 10:18)
- animal sacrifice and blood vs. the sacrifice and blood of Christ himself (9:12)
Superiority of the new covenant’s order in the epistle also revolves around the forgiveness of sins and includes
- a superior appointment (7:21),
- a superior rule by an indissoluble life (7:16),
- a superior, infinite duration without succession (7:23–24),
- the superior nature of the Son, made perfect forever (7:28),
- a superior locus of ministry in heaven (9:24), and
- the superior offering of Christ’s own blood, one time, consummated in life and death, in submission to God’s will (10:9).
Gräbe puts it another way: “The two qualities that constitute the superiority of the covenant of ‘better promises’ are (1) it is heavenly in rank, because it is based on the ministry (λειτυργι?α) of the heavenly high priest; (2) unlike the Levitical cult, it is able (through Christ) to accomplish the ministry (λειτυργι?α) of forgiveness of sins.”46
It is in the new covenant’s superiority that the author gains most traction for the paraenetic intentions he has for his readers, which are reviewed and emphasized in the portions of the letter following 10:18. Here the covenant appears first in the warning of 10:26–31, where the author, having just pointed out the significance of the better (new) covenant, warns of the seriousness of falling away from it (10:29). In 12:24, again the readers are reminded of their relationship to “Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood,” which at once recalls the better sacrifice of the better covenant they enjoy in Christ.47 Finally, in 13:20, the “blood of the covenant” appears in a positive way as the basis for Jesus’ resurrection. The new salvation order established in the atoning blood of the superior high priest is a heavenly resurrected order.48
The continuity and discontinuity of the canonical tradition is thus reiterated by means of the author to the Hebrews’s analysis of the cult under the old and new orders. The new covenant inaugurated by Christ continues the divine intention to redeem the creation from sin that was earlier found in Israel’s covenant-heritage at Exod 24:8 and Lev 16.49 However, “by stressing the element of newness and drawing contrast to the former system, the writer succeeds in presenting Christ as the permanent, definitive, superior replacement of the same heritage.”50
1.3. Summary: The Continuity and Discontinuity of
the New Covenant in the Canonical Tradition
As is clear from this brief survey of the canonical tradition, Johannes Behm’s assessment accurately reflects the view of the NT writers: “Jesus conceived of His Messianic work fulfilled in His death from the standpoint of the fulfillment of prophecy of the eschatological διαθ?κη.”51 In this fulfillment, Jesus truly continues the Great Covenant Story of restoration of the creation promised to Abraham back to the earliest parts of Israel’s Scriptures. But he also advances that Story by moving it beyond and cancelling earlier transitional elements. The final resolution of the sin-problem accomplished in Christ’s cross made obsolete earlier mediated approaches to God in the temple cult. With the life of God’s own Spirit pulsing within, the believer in Jesus has new knowledge of the Holy One of Israel as Father, giving the new, true power of full acceptance and sonship from within that enables obedience and holy living. As heirs of God’s irrevocable promises, the blessing of all flesh could be expected in the future restoration of Israel itself. Here then is the canon of Scripture’s tradition of the new covenant’s continuity and discontinuity that founded the church by the apostles’ inspired witness. It remains now to assess this legacy of the new-covenant tradition in the early patristic church to determine to what extent that tradition reflects the canonical tradition’s record of continuity and discontinuity in the new covenant.
2. New Covenant Continuity and Discontinuity in the Early Patristic Tradition
2.1. Continuity in the Tradition of the Second-Century Church
It is in the dialogue with those also claiming to be Abraham’s heirs (i.e., Jews) where the early post-apostolic church first reflects seriously on the concept of the covenant. The works of the Apostolic Fathers make no mention of either the new covenant or of the locus classicus of the new covenant in Jeremiah. Neither do they appear to have any knowledge of the new covenant from the Eucharistic tradition of Jesus and Paul.52 However, early Christian polemic with Jews about who were the real people of God tended to frame everything in covenant-terms.53
2.1.1. Barnabas
The first Christian writer in this discussion was the Alexandrian writer of Barnabas. In Barnabas, Christians indeed enjoy a covenant relationship with God, but the covenant they have is not “new.” In fact for this writer the reality is that there is only one covenant, so the question of “new” and “old” is mooted altogether. In Barnabas, the Jews were never members of the covenant-program because of their idolatry at Sinai. Christians are the true children of the covenant since they alone fulfill the covenant’s spiritual requirements. Thus, Christians are the only ones who can lay claim to being the people of God.54
2.1.2. Justin’s Dialogue with Trypho
The awkward exegetical and theological attempt at covenant self-definition in Barnabas reaches greater sophistication by the mid-second century in Justin’s Dialogue with Trypho. Here also in anti-Jewish polemic is the first real accounting for a two-covenant system that resembles the canonical tradition’s presentation of redemptive history.55 However, Justin’s account of the new covenant break significantly with the new-covenant canonical tradition as he makes clear that Christians are the true people of God, the new Israel, who replace ethnic Israel in God’s covenant program. Skarsaune notes the substance of Justin’s deviation from Paul:
whereas in Paul the Gentiles are added to the true Israel of Jewish believers to share in their inheritance, in Justin it is the other way around: the few Jewish believers are added to the church of the Gentiles to share in their inheritance. This shift of perspective had far-reaching consequences. While in Paul the Gentiles share in the promises given to true Israel, in Justin the promises are transferred from the Jewish people to the church of the Gentiles. This church replaces the Jewish people. It takes over the inheritance of Israel while at the same time disinheriting the Jews. 56
Isa 2:2–4 is the key passage for Justin and the church tradition that follows to show the church as “the mountain of the Lord” and sole proprietor of the covenant’s continuity.57 The replacement of literal Israel in Justin extends to all aspects of the Mosaic covenant where the church, Jesus, and the cross can now be spiritually found. In Christ, Christians spiritually fulfill all of the washings, fastings, Sabbaths, and other stipulations given to Israel (Dial. 29.2).
The irony of Justin’s account of redemptive history is how it effectively de-historicizes the OT and the new-covenant Story in the church’s developing tradition. Jocz notes the situation for the covenant Story:
Many of the Church Fathers understood the novum of the gospel to constitute a break in the story of election. The implication being that because God failed with the Jews, he transferred his favours to the Gentiles. Thus Lactantius literally says that God “changed” his covenant from Israel to the “foreign nations” (Lactantius, Div. Instit. IV, 11).58
The result is similarly observed in Origen, whose allegorical program also utterly effaces the historical dimension of the covenant when he says, “I do not call this law an Old Testament if I understand it spiritually. The law becomes an Old Testament only for those who want to understand it carnally.”59
The transition from Gentile inclusion to a complete Jewish exclusion from the covenant that was started in Justin became the theological and hermeneutical fund for what Jaroslav Pelikan has aptly termed the “re-judaization” of the church in the early centuries.60 Re-judaizing patterns of praxis and doctrine that eventually prevailed and shaped the patristic tradition along with the numbing effects such a pattern had for Christian self-identity and treatment of the OT are observed by Neve, who notes of this period of church history how
[g]radually Old Testament institutions—especially the priesthood and the sacrificial idea—came to be looked upon as emblematic of the Christian congregation. Such a conception and interpretation of the Old Testament naturally destroyed any historical insight into it. With few exceptions this conception and its application continued to prevail until the Reformation.61
By means of a “spiritual Israel” hermeneutic, then, the patristic tradition does engage the discontinuity in the canonical covenant program, but the end result for continuity is ultimately historically dysfunctional as the OT Story of Israel is reduced in the Fathers to a mere quarry for types of Christ and the church.62
2.1.3. Irenaeus
The most perceptive and thorough-going thinker regarding the new covenant in the early Church was Irenaeus, bishop of Lyons. In polemics against Gnostics and Marcionites, Irenaeus followed his predecessor Justin by writing often of the one God’s two-covenant program of redemptive history and also taking up Justin’s lead about the Gentile church supplanting Israel.63
It is, however, in his theological reflection about the two covenants that Irenaeus breaks new ground in the matters of the new covenant’s continuity with the prior covenant of Moses. Unlike Justin, who tended to see continuity only by Christ’s shadowy presence in the old covenant, Irenaeus maintains something closer to Paul and the canonical tradition. He notes the common root of both covenants in Abraham and sees Christ as the cornerstone of the building being constructed from the righteous of both covenants (Haer. 4.25.1). The righteous and prophets and patriarchs of the older covenant through their faith also dealt with Christ and had their sins remitted through him just as the believer does today (Haer. 4.27.2). Similarly, both covenants reveal at their core “the precepts of an absolutely perfect life” in their call to love God and neighbor (Haer. 4.12.3). So, Irenaeus argues, it must be clear to all that both old and new covenants, although directed to two peoples at two different times, are the work of one and the same God in the divine plan of the recapitulatio mundi (Haer. 4.12.3; cf. 3.12.11).64
In Irenaeus the church had now a fully integrated operation of the new and the old covenants in one history of salvation that was still sensitive to the historical distinctives of both old and new covenants. Unlike most of his contemporaries and those who followed after him, he is not yet so far down the re-judaizing road of Christian supersessionism that continuity in the canonical covenant Story comes at the expense of historical distinctives.65
2.2. Discontinuity in the Tradition of the Second-Century Church
2.2.1. Irenaeus
Irenaeus’ view of the contrast in the old and new covenants may serve also as the starting point considering the new covenant’s discontinuities in the patristic tradition. This is because again in Irenaeus we are at something of a highpoint in earliest post-apostolic Christian reflection regarding the new covenant’s novum in two particular areas: his attention to Paul and his understanding of the new covenant itself.
Early Christian neglect—passive neglect at best—of the apostle who thought of himself as a “minister of a new covenant” is a well-documented phenomenon in scholarship of the last century.66 Pauline scholars lament the apostle’s virtual “unintelligibility” to the early post-apostolic Church,67 but we must ask, “At what particular point was Paul so hard to understand?” It is no secret that Paul was the darling of the heretical Valentinians and Marcionites, but was it only guilt by association that made him damaged goods to the church? Perhaps it was that he had too thoroughly enriched the lexical arsenal of Gnostics with the “spiritual” and “soulish” categories of his anthropology?
Several lines of thought issuing from Irenaeus’ accounting for Paul suggest that it was the apostle’s presentation of the new covenant’s novum of forgiveness that made him harder to digest for the moralizing orthodox and such a delight to the heretics. First, Irenaeus’ explicit program was to rescue Paul from the heretics’ madness and misrepresentation: “to examine his opinion, to expound the apostle, and to explain whatever passages have received other interpretations” (Haer. 4.41.3–4). Second, from what is known about the Gnostic and Marcionite use of Paul, it is in his account of the discontinuity, of what is new, in Jesus that made Paul so attractive to them.68 For Marcion, Paul was the only true apostle.69 Third, Irenaeus’ own exposition of Paul’s “centers” (Haer. 3.16.3 and 4.24.1) reveals that the advance of salvation history from Adam to Christ, corruption to incorruption, is the nucleus around which his other principle themes of monotheism and the incarnation orbit.70
Emphasizing the theology of history as Irenaeus does, it is no surprise that he develops the content of the new covenant particularly in its contrast to the old. For him, the new covenant “renovates man and sums all things up in itself” (Haer. 3.11.8), and as such, the key concept is freedom. “Covenant of liberty” is a favorite description of the new covenant (Haer. 3.13.14; 4.33.14; 4.34.3; 4.16.5) that is closely linked for Irenaeus to the new present time of adoption in contrast to the age of slavery under the “laws of bondage” in the old covenant (Haer. 4.22.1; 3.21.4). The new age of adoption means something more is present in the new-covenant age than merely a new kind of spiritual law administered just like the old law. Rather, like the apostle Paul he aimed to exposit, for Irenaeus the new-covenant humanity has not a new law with new rewards and punishments (i.e., a new religion), but a new life in a new spiritual relationship to God—a relationship that is dominated by love and freedom, not fear and slavery.71
Even if the question of theological supersessionism of the new-covenant provisions for national Israel is set to the side, it is the understanding of the new condition and new administration of the covenant relationship in which Irenaeus seems to rise above his environment and touch on the struggle the early church’s tradition had with the new covenant’s discontinuity. The re-judaizing tendencies, the advocacy of the new covenant’s novum by the heretics, and the likelihood that the church’s first teachers after the apostles were themselves converted Jews72 all give force to continuing traces in the church’s tradition of the moralistic mindset Paul addresses in his letter to the Galatians—a mindset that does not grasp fully the new covenant’s discontinuity with the old.73 And while even Irenaeus himself may not have fully exploited Paul because of the apostle’s gnostic associations,74 the novelty of his historical focus for the covenant Story of the changed nature of the divine-human relationship still demonstrates how such notions had become dimmed in the patristic tradition.
2.2.2. Four Divergences from the New-Covenant Canonical Tradition
The moralistic leanings (i.e., the tendency to express the genius of the new covenant in terms of reward, merit, and punishment) and the developing supersessionism document the dulling of the new covenant’s genius in the patristic tradition. Because of this moralistic motif, Barnett bluntly states that when we leave the canonical tradition in church history, “we are stepping into another world.”75
The same point is affirmed by students of early Gnosticism. For example, van den Broek claims, “The gnostics experienced their salvation as a gift of grace which made them free of the world and put them right away into the new life. They understood Paul better than most of their fellow-Christians, who tended to express salvation in the ethical categories of merit and reward.”76
As van den Broek’s claim for the deficient understanding of the doctrine of grace in patristic tradition has been taken up and argued by others like Drewery and McGrath,77 there are other ways in which the divergence of the mentum patrorum from the new-covenant canonical tradition may be noted. I offer four that are both early and dominate in the patristic tradition.
All four represent what one might call a “dimming” of the fundamental grace of forgiveness of sins provided in the new covenant that was explicated and proclaimed in the documents of the apostolic church (see §1 above). To be sure, one must tread carefully at this point and not overstate the measure of patristic divergence to the new-covenant tradition as is typical in Protestantism. Clearly, the catholic church was the heir of the biblical tradition, but to assert it was unaffected by its social and historical context would be unjustified as well. The following represent particular early ecclesial emphases and praxis of the developing patristic tradition that, in addition to supersessionism, betray a less than full assimilation of the covenant canonical tradition.78
First, dominance of the Christus Victor model of the atonement in the early patristic tradition means that things other than forgiveness of sins occupy center stage. Aulen notes this in his remarks concerning Irenaeus: “Irenaeus, in common with other Eastern theologians, places relatively little emphasis on sin, because he regards salvation as the bestowal of life rather than of forgiveness, and as a victory over mortality rather than of forgiveness, and as a victory over mortality rather than over sin.”79 As Burns has demonstrated, the pattern seen in Irenaeus continues to mark the Eastern Church’s economy of salvation, but Augustine, moved through his deep study of Paul, characterized the different focus that developed among the Latins.80
Second, the second-century church tended to dissipate the power of Christ’s cross to other mediating objects and human moral striving. Thus, they displaced the church’s canonical new-covenant tradition, namely, that the Suffering Servant’s sacrifice resolved the sin-problem.81 This development applied especially to the growing sacramental theology that also tended to color the sacraments in quasi-magical tones as Lampe’s study of baptism clearly shows. He notes how in the patristic tradition
the seal of the Spirit, received in Baptism, begins to be conceived in quasi-magical terms as a mark impressed upon the soul by the due performance of the baptismal ceremonial, a stamp whose purpose is to safeguard the recipient from the hostile powers of the Devil, and preserve him in soul and body unharmed for the enjoyment of immortality.82
Proliferation of sacramentals and other alien elements in the worship and theological tradition of the fathers reflect similar divergence from the new-covenant tradition’s trajectory of the all-sufficiency of Christ’s cross. It is as N. T. Wright has observed: when one presently lacks assurance that their sins are forgiven because of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ alone and that their hope is sure and certain, then “all the things of Roman theology to which true Protestantism rightly objects grow from this root.”83
Third, as Wright’s statement suggests, the ecclesiology of the church’s tradition developed along vectors alien to the canonical tradition’s new-covenant ideals. Worship forms and ecclesial institutions gradually reinstituted mediation to the worshipper’s access to the Father, who had rent the temple veil in the cross of his Son (Matt 27:51). Holy buildings, holy hierarchies, and holy calendars began to constrain what the Spirit had poured into the soul of every believer according to the prophets’ expectation for a coming age. According to Jesus and Paul, this expectation “now is” in the inaugurated new covenant (John 4:22–24; Col 2:20–22). Accordingly, the ecclesial praxis represented on the pages of the NT is different from that of the old covenant and the church tradition that had re-judaized itself by those older patterns: it is more lay than clerical, congregational than hierarchical, and voluntary than professional.84 The charismatic power of the Spirit authorizes a more democratized ministry where each one has a psalm, a teaching, a revelation, a tongue, an interpretation (1 Cor 14:26). Thus, laid bare is a faulty assumption behind the charge often made that the canonical tradition is materially insufficient for the needs of the church’s worship. In actuality with new-covenant fullness, matters of form and ritual so necessary for an older day are decidedly secondary to the freedom of worship that is in the Spirit and the new truth of Christ (John 4:23).85
Fourth, the growing institutionalization of the patristic tradition also correlated well to a perception of God quite alien to the new-covenant canonical tradition. Whereas the new-covenant Story climaxes in the unbroken communion between creature and Creator provided in the forgiveness of sins, God the Father in the patristic tradition waxes again strangely distant and becomes shrouded in the mist of absoluteness, impassibility (α?π?θεια) and apophatic discourse as the maxims of Neoplatonism are enlisted to talk of him and battle pagans.86 God’s nature as love, revealed in the cross of the incarnate Son, gets light play in the Fathers compared to the du jour pagan neoplatonist agenda of divine transcendence, unity, and creation ex nihilo and where the Son appears as the incarnation of the Father’s reason.87 Justin, as Grant notes, defines God just as he did as a Platonist: eternally immutable and the source of all existence. God has no name, for a name is applied by someone “elder” than the one named; his names are merely derived from his relations with man and the cosmos.88 Albinus uses the school definitions when he asserts that the human mind can reach God only by means of abstraction or negation, analogy, or gradual ascension.89 The same goes for the Aristides, Theophilus of Antioch, and the apophatic description of God given by Athenagoras: ungenerated, invisible, impassible, incomprehensible, and immeasurable.90 These and many other examples establish Pelikan’s claim that the patristic doctrine of God is one of “the most reliable indications of the continuing hold of Greek philosophy on Christian theology.”91
2.3. Summary
The “spiritual Israel” hermeneutic of Justin that had wrestled the OT from the Jews bore in the patristic tradition certain implications for the continuity and discontinuity of the canonical covenant-Story. First, it tended to de-historicize the new covenant’s continuity for the nation of Israel. The application of the new covenant to Gentiles of the church functioned effectively to unelect the Jews as if universality of the kingdom excluded out of hand a place for any Jewish ethnicity.92
Second, the discontinuity of the new covenant’s novum in the radical forgiveness of sins was blunted as the patristic tradition languished under older forms of religion and theology. The challenge the apostle Paul represented to the self-identity of his own generation continued to haunt the reflections of those who followed after and the stunning resolution to the problem of sin provided in the cross of Christ became diluted with notions and forms of an earlier time. The charisma of the Spirit, now poured out for the inauguration of the eschatological joy, became shackled in the institutional forms more characteristic of a day that knew of his work only as a violent irruption upon life, but not as the natural foundation of it.93 And the Father’s love, demonstrated in Christ’s cross that inaugurated unmediated communion with the creation, wanes distant through growing sacramentalism, moralism, and pagan philosophical categories.
3. Conclusion: Which Tradition?
Almost thirty years ago, David Steinmetz was reminding us all of “The Superiority of Pre-Critical Exegesis,” and in that same spirit it is not uncommon today to encounter apologia for the mentum patrorum and the “grammar of tradition” they authored.94 But the inner canonical logic of the covenant program that began in the OT and extends into the NT in the apostles’ new-covenant tradition suggests the limits of this patristic tradition and perhaps the more measured tones with which it should be advocated today as a hermeneutical maxim. While there can be no doubt that the legacy of the apostle’s kerygma is present in the early post-apostolic church, the so-called “grammar” of their tradition, as measured by how they attended to the continuity and discontinuity of the new covenant, bears the same marks of historical contextuality that binds the grammar of the church in every age.
Privileging the early patristic tradition as some kind of “hermeneutical ground zero” or as necessary for evangelicals to stay orthodox therefore neglects the hermeneutical norm the canonical writers employed in the new-covenant Story and falls into the same tar pit as the “other christianities” also being pushed today.95 Both camps mistakenly assume that Christianity simply began with Jesus Christ and then proceed to argue for heresy or orthodoxy from there. However, it was not in competition with other contemporary options that the disciples located their gospel. Rather, they looked back to the OT canonical script for their interpretation of the person, life, and ministry of Jesus Christ. This indeed was the hermeneutical lens for the gospel that founded the church and that always measures the church and that the Protestant Reformers intended under the maxim of sola scriptura.96