For those who are following the series on acovenantalism – I’ve now created a page with a list of links to every post in the series. The list will be updated whenever a new post appears.
|
||||
|
Just as there are two distinct but related covenants described in Genesis 12-22, so also there are two distinct but related covenants stemming from the events at Sinai. Firstly, there is the well-known covenant of law, which is a covenant between God and Israel. But the word “covenant” is also used to speak of another kind of covenant between God and particular people within Israel: a covenant of mediation. This second covenant is less well-recognised today, but still quite important for the development of the “covenant” concept in the Old Testament. (This post is part of a series. See here for an introduction to the series.) Exodus-Deuteronomy describes the two-fold outworking of the covenants with Abraham in the life of Abraham’s national “seed”: Israel. The numerical growth of Israel (Exod 1:6–10), their deliverance from Egypt and the subsequent capture of Canaan fulfils the promise of “nationhood” held out in the unilateral covenant of Genesis 15 (esp. Gen 15:13–14, 18–21).[1] Through Moses, God brings his newborn nation to Sinai (Exod 19:4, cf. Gen 15:14) and makes a bilateral covenant with them (Exod 19:5–6, cf Gen 17:1–2). As with Abraham, Israel is obliged to obey God’s voice (Exod 19:5, cf. Gen 22:18) and keep his covenant (Exod 19:5. cf. Gen 17:9). If they do this, then they, like Abraham, will be a source of international blessing: they will be a special possession, a kingdom of priests, and a holy nation, for the sake of the whole earth which is God’s possession (Exod 19:5b–6a, cf. Gen 17:4–5, 16, 18:18–19). The subsequent chapters show that the content of the covenant is, in fact, various laws and rules whose primary intention appears to be to reveal the character of God to the surrounding nations (Exod 20–23).[2] The covenant is ratified with a solemn oath of allegiance and a blood-throwing rite (Exod 24:3–8), followed by a covenant meal (Exod 24:9–11).[3] But even at her very foundation, Israel is tragically bereft of the requisite loyalty and obedience displayed by Abraham (cf. Gen 17:1, 22:15–18). This is seen graphically in the national apostasy during the golden calf episode (Exod 32–33), where “[e]ven as Moses is receiving the covenant stipulations, the Israelites are breaking them”.[4] The people have broken God’s covenant, so Moses breaks the written record of that covenant (Exod 32:19).[5] The “disastrous word” (Exod 33:4), therefore, is that although God will fulfil his unilateral covenant to give them the land (Exod 33:1–2, cf. Gen 15), God himself will not go with them to be their God, because the covenant of Genesis 17 has been broken (Exod 33:3, cf. Gen 17:7–8). It is at this point that Moses steps in as the mediator of the covenant. Moses is one with whom God meets face to face, separate from Israel (Exod 33:7–11). In contrast to the rest of the nation, Moses is a “seed” of Abraham through whom God could re-establish his covenant—he has found favour in God’s eyes and God knows him by name (Exod 33:12). But Moses pleads to God in favour of the nation (Exod 33:13). He reasons that God’s purpose of international blessing will not come about unless God actually goes with this nation (Exod 33:16, cf. Exod 32:11–13). God agrees, because Moses has indeed found favour in his sight (Exod 33:17). So the covenant with Israel is renewed; new tablets are carved in stone and the law is reiterated (Exod 34:10–26).[6] However, the renewed covenant with Israel is an indirect, mediated relationship, contingent upon God’s gracious relationship with Moses (Exod 34:10). God’s covenant with Israel is now based upon his relationship with Moses: “I have made a covenant with you, and with Israel” (כָּרַתִּי אִתְּךָ בְּרִית וְאֶת־יִשְׂרָאֵל) (Exod 34:27). Moses has a direct experience of God’s glory (Exod 34:29)—that is, his compassionate and gracious nature (Exod 33:18–19)—but God’s glory is veiled to Israel (Exod 34:33–35).[7] It appears that this implicit “covenant of mediation” with Moses was inherited by the Levitical priesthood. In the Sinai narrative, the Levites provided the bloody sacrifice of atonement that turned away God’s wrath from his people between the Golden Calf apostasy and Moses’ intercession with God, and so they were “ordained” for service and blessing (Exod 32:25–29, cf. Exod 32:30). Later, Phinehas received a “covenant of peace” for providing atonement in the same way (Num 25:11–13), which is probably a special case of the Levitical covenant.[8] Later prophets can refer to this covenant of mediation as “the covenant of the priesthood and the Levites” (Neh 13:28), “my covenant with the Levitical priests my ministers” (Jer 33:21), and “my covenant with Levi” (Mal 2:4).[9] From the context of this last quotation, we may infer that the obligations of the “covenant with Levi” involved offering sacrifices (Mal 1) and teaching the law (e.g. Mal 2:7). The Golden Calf incident highlights the dark underside of the covenantal relationship between God and Israel. If the covenant with Israel was intended to bring blessing to all the families of the earth (אְַדָמָה, Gen 12:3), we must not forget that what originally prompted the need for this covenant in the first place was the pre-covenantal curse (ארר) brought on by Adam’s sin (Gen 3:17). Under this curse, all humanity (אָדָם) must return to the earth (אְַדָמָה) in death (Gen 3:19). Thus Israel’s failure to bring blessing through obedience naturally brought home to them in a special way the general curse on humanity for disobedience (Exod 32:33–35).[10] The atoning priestly ministry prevented total destruction of the nation. However, Deuteronomy warned of the day when the sin of the people with whom God had made the covenant would be reckoned. The nation itself was instructed to proclaim the covenant curses, climaxing with the great covenantal curse: “Cursed (אָרוּר) be anyone who does not confirm the words of this law by doing them” (Deut 27:26). A number of significant passages in Deuteronomy point to Israel’s inability to be a faithful covenant partner (1:26–46, chs. 9–10, 11:26–32, ch. 28). Deuteronomy finally predicts the curse of the exile, followed by a future restoration on the horizon (Deut 29–30).[11] [1] Williamson, “Covenant”, 150. [2] Williamson, “Covenant”, 150–51 (151). [3] Williamson, “Covenant”, 151. [4] Williamson, “Covenant”, 152. [5] Weinfeld, TDOT 2:276. [6] Weinfeld, TDOT 2:276. [7] William J. Dumbrell, The End of the Beginning: Revelation 21–22 and the Old Testament (Moore Theological College Lectures 1983; Homebush West, NSW, Australia: Lancer, 1985), 109. [8] Williamson, “Covenant”, 152. [9] Williamson, “Covenant”, 152. [10] Williamson, “Covenant”, 152. [11] J. Gordon McConville, Grace in the End: A Study in Deuteronomic Theology (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1993), 133–39. On the Sola Panel:
Have you ever used these questions (or a variation on them) to talk about the impact of the gospel of Jesus Christ with friends or strangers? They are the introductory questions in the well-known gospel explanation associated with Evangelism Explosion (EE). They’ve proved themselves to be a very popular way to start a serious discussion about our relationship with God. We assume that people in our world have given at least some thought to their own death and eternal destiny. These questions help us to show how the gospel, with its strong emphasis on assurance of future salvation through Jesus (e.g. 1 Thess 1:10, Heb 9:27-28, 1 Pet 1:3-5), provides a clear answer to important issues. But, perhaps, not any more: XEE, the next generation version of Evangelism Explosion, starts with quite a different set of questions:
The key Bible verse for XEE is John 10:10: “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly”. The emerging generations, according to XEE, no longer think very much about death or the afterlife; people care more about the now-life. Futility or fulfilment today matters more than fear or hope for tomorrow. And so, if we want people to listen to our explanation of the gospel, we need to start with something that people today actually care about. You can have a fulfilling life, says XEE, by having a relationship with God through Jesus. XEE’s presentation does, of course, say that this “life to the full” is not just about our circumstances, feelings, or quality of life; it also says that it continues beyond the grave. Nevertheless, XEE’s overall emphasis is the fact that Jesus gives us fulfilment in life now. The creators of XEE have made a serious effort to understand the real concerns of real people whom we want to hear the gospel, and we should applaud them for it. There is an advantage to beginning a gospel presentation by addressing a felt need in your hearer(s). It makes evangelism much easier because it means you can start up a genuine conversation quickly on a topic that matters to them. But I have a question for users of XEE. In fact, I have a question for anyone who has tried to use ‘fulfilment in life’ as a good way to begin a discussion about Jesus. That question is this: how do you deal with the fact that most people’s idea of ‘fulfilment’ is so utterly different to the kind of fulfilment Jesus talks about? The idea of ‘fulfilment’ in today’s world is incredibly ambiguous. It is usually associated with careers, family, sexual relationships and education. If you ask somebody whether they’d like ‘fulfilment’, that’s the kind of thing they’re most likely to be thinking about initially. However, Jesus’ view of ‘abundant life’, or life ‘to the full’ (John 10:10), is very different. In John’s Gospel, ‘full’ or ‘abundant’ life is eternal life (John 3:15, 4:14, 4:36, 6:40, 6:68). Even though this abundant life is available now through Jesus’ word (John 5:24, 8:31-32, 14:23, 15:3-4) and Spirit (John 4:23, 7:38), it ultimately means life beyond death (John 5:21, 5:25). The ‘full’ life of John 10:10 is about being saved from God’s judgement for our sins (John 3:16-17, 3:36, 5:24, 5:29, 7:24, 10:9). Actually, people who came to Jesus expecting material benefits for their own daily life needed to be corrected (John 4:15, 6:27). Many of them turned away from him because he has disappointed them in this regard (John 6:66). Indeed, in the here and now, Jesus promises his disciples hardship, persecution and hatred by the world (John 15:18, 17:14), not just the benefits of a fulfilling relationship with God. So if you begin your discussion about Jesus by asking people whether they feel fulfilled in life, and if you imply that the gospel is the answer to this need, you’re going to have a much harder job further down the track. You’ll have to show people that the Bible’s idea of a fulfilled life is completely different from what they first expected when you started talking to them about ‘fulfilment’. How do you avoid the confusion? Talking about ‘fulfilment in life’ might be more instantly accessible to post-Christian generations. And it clearly makes initial conversations easier. But is it, in the long run, going to cause more problems than it solves? I’m not saying that we should only ever use the ‘classic’ EE questions about getting into heaven either. In fact, these questions have their own pitfalls. Because they begin with human concerns about the afterlife rather than with God himself, they run the risk (if not used properly) of marginalizing Jesus’ demand on our lives and making the gospel sound like a mere ‘free ticket to heaven’. Nevertheless, there are also great advantages to these classic questions. They are clear and direct. They imply that there is a personal God, that this God will judge us, and that there is an afterlife that really matters. This means that they can potentially generate discussion that quickly gets to the heart of some of these central biblical concerns. On the other hand, as the creators of XEE have realized, these questions assume too much in a post-Christian world. Can we really take for granted that our hearers have a clear view of God, judgement and heaven before we start to share the gospel with them? Perhaps there are alternative questions we could use to start up a conversation—questions that make sense without being confused with promises that Jesus simply doesn’t make. Perhaps we could talk about people’s fear of death in general. (According to Hebrews 2:15, the fear of death itself is a basic feature of human existence, not just a generational thing. The fear of death is certainly a common theme in much contemporary fiction; just look at the Harry Potter series, which is all about the terror of death, from the first book to the last.) Or have you discovered other means to talk quickly and easily about the impact of the gospel in ways that make sense to our current generation? Comments on the Sola PanelFrom the Sola Panel
What is the most polite way to refer to an old person? Have you noticed how the words we collectively use to refer to old people in the media and in private conversation keep changing? It’s a strange process. We start using a word or phrase, for example, ‘old man’, ‘old woman’. After a while, we decide that this phrase is really a little derogatory, and so we change to another, more neutral phrase, such as ‘senior citizen’. But after a while, ‘senior citizen’ sounds condescending and slightly offensive. So we try another, more neutral, word—like ‘elderly’. But the same thing happens: after we use the word ‘elderly’ for a while, it starts to sound a bit insulting. So we try ‘aged’. Then ‘ageing’. And so on. The reason this keeps happening is that our underlying concept of ageing itself is negative. It doesn’t matter what word we choose to express it; that word will start to take on the negative connotations that we associate with the underlying concept. Ageing, for us, is a terrible thing. Nobody wants to be old. We have created an entire cosmetic industry dedicated to covering up the disastrous effects of ageing. We don’t want to be look old because we don’t want to be old. Why are we so negative about ageing? It’s because ageing represents the opposite of our core values. We live in a society that puts a huge value on freedom, choice, fulfilment of desires, strength and independence. All these values are far more obtainable by the young than by the old. Increasing age means diminishing freedom, limited choice, lower potential for fulfilment, increasing weakness and growing dependence. Furthermore, we believe that old people actually limit the potential of the young people around them. Old people are a ‘burden’, a challenge, an increasing demand on an economy that is ‘driven’ by the young. Or at least, this is the way we often talk about ageing. What light does the gospel of Jesus Christ shed on ageing? The doctrine of creation remind us that God has created a good and ordered world for humans to rule under his loving oversight. Old people, by virtue of their greater experience in this world, have invaluable wisdom to offer the young. Young people need the presence, experience and wisdom of godly old people in our communities, in our homes (e.g. Prov 23:22) and in our churches (e.g. Titus 1:5, 2:3). Old people are not a burden. In fact, we can’t do without them. Nevertheless, ageing is a reminder that our world is under a curse. The increasing weakness, futility and numbness of old age (Eccl 12:1-6) is merely the forerunner to death (Eccl 12:7), which all stems from God’s judgement for our rebellion against him (Gen 3:19). The debilitating effects of ageing remind us that there is something terribly wrong with our world and our relationship with God, and that should make us turn to him for salvation. The fact that Jesus came as a servant to die as a ransom for our sins and to help those who cannot help themselves (Mark 10:45 , Romans 5:6) teaches us that God cares for the weak, the feeble, the vulnerable. Following the crucified saviour means caring for those who need our care (Mark 10:43-44, Phil 2:4-11), including the aged among us (1 Tim 5:8). We all need to acknowledge the great value of aged care, and support those individuals and professionals who care for old people. The resurrection of Jesus Christ shows us that mortality, frailty and death are not God’s final plan for humanity. Jesus’ body didn’t see decay (Acts 13:37); likewise, all those who trust in him look forward to receiving renewed, immortal bodies from God (1 Cor 15:42-44). In Christ, old people, as much as young people, are created in the image of an imperishable, immortal saviour (1 Cor 15:49) and share equally in that massive potential for freedom, glory and fulfilment in the new creation. But the gospel demands faith and repentance. Do we trust in God’s promises enough to also entrust him with our fears and anxieties about our own ageing? Do we need to change our attitudes and our actions so that we properly value and love the old people in our midst? Comments on the Sola PanelWhy did God give circumcision to Abraham (Gen 17:9–14)? What is it for? It’s not very useful as a “boundary marker” or “badge of membership”, because under most circumstances people can’t tell whether you’ve been circumcised! Furthermore, lots of other ancient peoples practiced circumcision. Can we discern why circumcision is commanded in the story of Abraham? (This post is part of a series. See here for an introduction to the series.) We’ve seen the way that Genesis 12-22 describes two distinct but related covenants. God gives Abraham a two-fold set of promises involving, firstly, nationhood (land and seed, inheritance and heir, Gen 12:1–2c) and, secondly, international blessing (Gen 12:2d–3). Abraham’s faith in the promise of seed (Gen 15:6) is the basis for a covenantal commitment by God to give the land to Abraham (Gen 15:7–21). Abraham’s loyalty (Gen 17:1), displayed in his willingness to trust God even to the point of sacrificing the seed of the promise, is the basis for a covenantal commitment by God to bless all nations through Abraham and his great, numerous seed (Gen 17, Gen 22:15–18). Abraham’s children after him must also follow in the footsteps of Abraham’s faith and loyalty in order for international blessing to be accomplished (Gen 18:18–19).[1] The constantly recurring question in the whole of Genesis-Kings is the question of the identity of the “seed” who will mediate international blessing, especially in the light of the recurring failure of the majority of Abraham’s physical descendants (e.g. 2 Kgs 17:20, “And Yahweh rejected the whole seed of Israel”).[2] The focus narrows down onto a “royal” seed, one from the line of David, for whom God will establish an “everlasting kingdom” (2 Sam 7). God’s command for Abraham and his descendants to be circumcised occurs in the description of the second of these covenants (Genesis 17).
Circumcision itself is not a major feature in the Old Testament; it is assumed as an obligation for Abraham’s descendants and those in their household (Gen 21:1–4; 34:13–30; Exod 12:48; Lev 12:3; Josh 5:1–9, cf. Judg 14:3, 15:18; 1 Sam 14:6, 17:26, 17:36, 31:4; 2 Sam 1:20; 1 Chr 10:4; Isa 52:1; Ezek 28:10, 31:18, 32:19–32, 44:7–9), required to avoid curse and death (Exod 4:22–26), often internalized (Exod 6:12; Lev 26:40–43; Deut 10:16; Deut 30:5–6; Jer 4:4, 6:10, 9:25–26; Hab 2:16), but seldom explained. Yet Paul deals with circumcision with some frequency and at some length (Rom 2:25–29, 3:1, 3:30, 4:9–12, 15:8; 1 Cor 7:18–19; Gal 2, 5, 6; Eph 2:11; Phil 3:3–5; Col 2:11–13, 3:11, 4:11; Tit 1:10). How is the “covenant” of circumcision in Genesis 17 related to the covenant of international blessing described in the rest of the chapter? Some would see them as two entirely separate covenants.[3] However, it seems best to assume with Hugenberger that בְּרִית in Gen 17:9, 13 is shorthand for a specific obligation (Gen 17:10) or sign (Gen 17:11) within the covenant of Genesis 17.[4] But is circumcision simply an ethnic “boundary marker” or “badge”,[5] or does it actually signify something? It is not, in fact, particularly useful as a “boundary marker”, for many of Israel’s ANE neighbours also practiced circumcision.[6] Moreover, circumcision is invisible under normal circumstances. But neither does circumcision seem to be a proof or symbol of God’s activity, or a sign to remind God of his obligations (cf. Gen 9:16–17). It seems to be a sign for the sake of the one circumcised.[7] Williamson suggests that circumcision reminds the Israelites to “walk before God and be blameless (תָּמִים, whole)”.[8] Yet it is difficult to see how cutting off a part of one’s body would remind one to “be whole”. Goldingay sees the significance of circumcision in “disciplining of (especially male) procreation” (an interpretation also found in Paul’s contemporary Philo).[9] The narrative context of Genesis 17 may shed light on this question. Given chapter 16 and 17:17–18, circumcision may be a symbolic means to perpetually restrain Abraham’s desire to achieve God’s purposes through his own effort (i.e. his “flesh”). God commands Abraham and his seed to “cut” the very instrument that Abraham had used to try to fulfil the Genesis 15 promise of seed by begetting Ishmael through Hagar (Chapter 16). Abraham had thought that Ishmael (the result of his own effort) was to be the seed (17:17–18). But God, while promising international blessing through Abraham’s blameless walk (17:1) simultaneously restrains Abraham’s natural inclination to achieve God’s purposes by himself. Thus the purpose of the covenant of circumcision is to remind Abraham that God will make a name for him (Gen 12:2; 17:5); he is not to make a name for himself (cf. Gen 11:4). It also reminds Abraham’s seed of the danger of being “cut off” (כרת) if they should break this covenant (Gen 17:14). Hence circumcision is both a sign and warning of fleshly weakness and a stimulus to faith in the God who can achieve his purposes despite the odds (cf. Rom 4:11–12, 17–19). [1] Williamson, Abraham, 182. [2] Williamson, Abraham, 253–58. [3] E.g. Thomas E. McComiskey, The Covenants of Promise: A Theology of the Old Testament Covenants (Nottingham: IVP, 1985), 146–50; see also Martin Luther, Lectures on Genesis Chapters 15–20 (ed. Jaroslav Pelikan; trans. George V. Schick; LW 3; Saint Louis: Concordia, 1961), 162–63. [4] Hugenberger, Marriage, 174; see Williamson, Abraham, 149. [5] So N. T. Wright, The Climax of the Covenant (London: T & T Clark, 1991), 3. [6] Williamson, Abraham, 176–81. [7] Williamson, Abraham, 176–81. [8] Williamson, Abraham, 180–81. [9] John Goldingay, “The Significance of Circumcision”, Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 88 (2000): 3–18. In the previous post we saw how Genesis 12:1-3 makes two distinct but related sets of promises. The first set of promises involves blessing to Abraham (Gen 12:1-2c). The second set of promises involves blessing through Abraham to the world (Gen 12:2d-3). Following Paul Williamson’s analysis, we will now see how these two sets of promises issue in two distinct but related covenants in the rest of the Abraham story. (This post is part of a series. See here for an introduction to the series.) Genesis 15 and 17 describe two distinct but related covenants (i.e. “elected relationships of obligation under oath”) based on the two sets of promises in Gen 12:1–3. The first covenant (Gen 15) is related to nationhood (heirs and inheritance) without any explicit mention of international blessing, while the second (Gen 17, which is dependent upon the fulfilment of the first) is related to the international significance of Abraham and his seed.[1] Apart from the obvious (but often overlooked) fact that the two covenants are separated both in time (by at least 13 years, cf. Gen 15:2, 16:16, 17:1) and in the story of Genesis (by the obvious fact that chapter 16 occurs in between chapters 15 and 17), there are numerous other significant differences between chapters 15 and 17.[2] The chapters have different structures,[3] and describe different rituals. Genesis 15 is a unilateral covenant,[4] while Genesis 17 describes bilateral commitments. Genesis 15 describes a temporal covenant, fulfilled once the nation had taken possession of the land, whilst Genesis 17 describes an enduring covenant (עוֹלָם Gen 17:7). There is a shift in focus from the single nation (Gen 15) to the multitude of nations (Gen 17). The “nation” (i.e. Abraham and his seed) is the result of the Genesis 15 covenant but the partner in the Genesis 17 covenant. This is paralleled by the name change from Abram to Abraham (Gen 17:5). There are two distinct covenantal oaths: the oath of the Genesis 15 covenant (see Gen 24:7),[5] and the oath of the Genesis 17 covenant in Gen 22:16–18 (see below).[6] The covenants do not stand alone, but are integrated into a story that focuses on Abraham’s faith and loyalty. There is a causal connection (sometimes explicit, sometimes implicit) between Abraham’s faith and loyalty, and the making of the covenants. In chapter 15, God makes a promise of abundant seed to Abram despite Abram’s childlessness (Gen 15:1–5). Abram believes God, and this is accounted as righteousness (Gen 15:6). Then God makes a unilateral covenant of land (inheritance) with Abram (Gen 15:7–21).[7] There is also an explicit connection between Abraham’s loyalty to God and the establishment of the Genesis 17 covenant:
“Walking before” the LORD and “being blameless” means primarily loyalty and devotion to God. It is the moral prerequisite for the establishment of the eternal covenant between God and Abraham.[8] This covenant is that God will make Abraham the father of a multitude of nations (Gen 17:4–7). Whilst this covenant encompasses the first covenant of physical seed and inheritance (Gen 17:8), it goes far beyond it.
God will make a covenant to bless all nations through Abraham and his physical seed, provided Abraham is loyal to God. In the “Aqedah” (“binding”) incident (Gen 22:1–13), Abraham fulfilled the conditions of loyalty by not withholding his “only son”. Abraham showed his willingness to sacrifice the very “seed” that was the basis for the promises. This was a display of supreme loyalty to God—an outworking of Abraham’s faith in the One who could fulfil His promises despite overwhelming odds.[10] Once Abraham had displayed the necessary blameless walk before God, the covenant spoken of in the future tense in Genesis 17 is ratified by a solemn oath and becomes a reality (Gen 22:15–18, cf. 26:4b–5). Even though the seed is not, in the end, sacrificed, a sacrifice is still an important factor in the ratification of this covenant (Gen 22:13-14). The God who ratifies the covenant by oath is the same God who has just provided a sacrifice. [1] Williamson, Abraham, 99–113. [2] Williamson, Abraham, 99–113. [3] Williamson, Abraham, 113–19. [4] see further Williamson, Abraham, 135–40. [5] Williamson, Abraham, 139–40. [6] Williamson, Abraham, 234–53. [7] Williamson, Abraham, 124. [8] Williamson, Abraham, 174–76. [9] Williamson, Abraham, 157–66 (166). [10] Williamson, Abraham, 234–58. This post, and the next few posts, will examine the way that the word “covenant” (בְּרִית) features in Genesis 12–22, which one of the key foundational texts for Galatians 3. (This post is part of a series. See here for an introduction to the series.) It is common to speak of “the Abrahamic covenant”. However, if Genesis 12-22 is read seriously as a single narrative whole, it is clear that two different covenants are being described in the story of Abraham. Some scholars believe that the two covenant descriptions are simply different versions of the same covenant that have undergone different textual histories. Weinfeld sees a single covenant with Abraham throughout Genesis 12–22, which was originally unilateral, without any human obligation (Gen 13:15).[1] According to Weinfeld, the exile forced Israel to reinterpret the promises, adding conditional elements that are reflected in later accretions to the story (e.g. Gen 22, 26:5).[2] It is unlikely that Paul himself would have identified such “early” and “late” elements in the text. Rather, he would have read Genesis as an integrated narrative whole. Hence, for our purposes, the most helpful analyses of the Abraham story are those that take its final form seriously. We will largely follow Williamson’s detailed synchronic reading of the Abraham narrative.[3] The Abraham story occurs in the context of universal human need. God’s creation of the world and his “blessing” of all humanity (Gen 1–2) has seemingly been negated by human disobedience which called forth a “curse” (Gen 3). As disobedience reaches its full measure, God regrets his creation of humanity (Gen 6:6) and sends a flood in a great act of “uncreation” followed by “recreation”.[4] God then makes a covenant (Gen 9:8–17) with the humans and animals who survive the flood. This covenant affirms God’s choice to maintain his original creational intent despite humanity’s continued sinfulness (Gen 8:21–22).[5] The Babel incident, where humanity attempts to build a tower that reaches to the heavens in order to make a “name” for itself (Gen 11:4) but is thwarted by God (Gen 11:6–7), shows decisively that this will not be achieved by independent human effort. Genesis 11 ends with humanity, composed of various “nations” (Gen 10), dispersed across the earth and confused (Gen 11:9). The story of Abraham is God’s answer to how he will fulfil his covenant in the face of human sin and the curse on creation. Williamson describes a narrative arc in Genesis 12–22 that begins with a twofold set of promises from God to Abram (Gen 12:1–3), includes the details of two related but distinct covenants based on these promises (Gen 15, 17),[6] and concludes with a solemn oath of ratification (Gen 22:16–18).[7] The two distinct promises (Gen 12:1–3) are, firstly, nationhood (Gen 12:1–2c), and secondly, international blessing (Gen 12:2d–3). The first promise is a geopolitical promise to Abram: a promise of land and descendants (together constituting nationhood) that will give Abram a great “name”. The second promise is a universal promise through Abram: that in him all the families of the earth will be blessed. The second promise is clearly based upon the first, but even so it is quite distinct.
To be continued … [1] Weinfeld, TDOT 2:270. [2] Weinfeld, TDOT 2:270–72. [3] Paul R. Williamson, Abraham, Israel and the Nations: The Patriarchal Promise and its Covenantal Development in Genesis (Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement Series 315; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2000). [4] Williamson, “Covenant”, 139. [5] Williamson, “Covenant”, 140. [6] Williamson, Abraham, 220–34. See pages 188–216 for a detailed defence of both continuity and discontinuity between the two covenents. [7] Williamson, Abraham, 217–59. [8] Williamson, Abraham, 230, emphasis mine. The word “covenant” in the Old Testament has a precise and consistent meaning. It doesn’t just mean ‘relationship’, as is commonly assumed today. Rather, “covenant” refers to a very specific type of relationship. The best definition of the word, which accounts for all of its uses in the Bible, is as follows:
Here is a brief summary of some scholarly work on the definition of the word. (This post is part of a series. See here for an introduction to the series.) For more than a century, there has been a scholarly debate over the precise meaning of the Hebrew word בְּרִית (“covenant”). We can summarise the discussion according to four axes: “obligation”, “solemnity”, “relationship” and (more recently) “election”.[1] Each of these axes has been emphasised to a greater or lesser extent in the scholarship under review here. Earlier understandings tended to play the first three axes off against each other. Wellhausen, Kittel and Gressman viewed a covenant as essentially a set of obligations (usually reciprocal).[2] For Kraetzschmar (1896), it was a means of solemnising such obligations.[3] Pedersen (1914) saw the covenant more as a relationship, with ensuing obligations.[4] This view became somewhat influential, but was seriously challenged by Kutsch’s Verheißung und Gesetz (1973). Kutsch argued that בְּרִית always means “obligation” or “duty”, and does not denote the making of a relationship as such.[5] While בְּרִית can mean “treaty” when used of covenants among humans (i.e. a bilateral acceptance of obligations),[6] when used of Yahweh, בְּרִית never means “agreement” but only unilateral obligation, either self-imposed by Yahweh (a covenant of grace), or imposed by Yahweh on the people (a covenant of law).[7] Kutsch’s view influenced Weinfeld,[8] although Weinfeld also highlights the significance of the common hendiadys between “covenant” and “oath” (i.e. solemnisation).[9] Barr sought to bring some order to the discussion by calling for the application of functional semantics. For Barr, בְּרִית can be used for a wide range of concepts (expressed in English by various words such as “agreement”, “treaty”, “contract”, “promise”, “obligation”), with solemnity perhaps being the common factor.[10] However, בְּרִית is remarkably restricted in the contexts in which it may occur.[11] A בְּרִית may be made, kept, broken, left, remembered or forgotten; it has certain material or visible signs such as the ark, the book, the tablets and the blood; and it is usually “forever”. That is about all the Biblical writers do with the word.[12] Nobody ever counts or numbers covenants. Nobody ever loves, meditates upon or rejoices in a covenant (except in the later Qumran literature). Nobody ever recounts or retells a covenant, as they do God’s other mighty acts and words. In the light of the New Perspective, we might add here that nobody in the Bible ever “gets in” or “stays in” a covenant either.[13] Dumbrell, returning to an older view but modifying it somewhat, sees the relational factor in a covenant as foundational and pervasive. He argues that a covenant does not initiate a relationship. Rather “[w]hat the covenant does is formalize and give concrete expression to a set of existing arrangements [. . . T]he covenant will give firm quasi-legal backing to an arrangement which is already in existence”.[14] In other words, a covenant ceremony adds obligation and solemnity to a pre-existing “covenantal” relationship. He cites the various “human” covenants (Gen 21:22–32, 26:26–33; Josh 9; 1 Sam 11:1–3, 18:3; 2 Sam 3:12–21, 5:1–3; 1 Kgs 20:31–34; 2 Kgs 11:17) as examples. On this basis he posits a “covenant with creation” that exists prior to its formalisation with Noah.[15] This would seem to provide a licence for Dumbrell to conceive the whole of reality in covenantal terms. The problem with Dumbrell’s view is that it replaces the specific biblical usage of the word “covenant” with a more wide-ranging meaning that could, in theory, cover any kind of relationship. It cannot, of course, be disputed that when a covenant is made between two parties, there is some prior “relationship” between these two parties (how or why would two complete strangers spontaneously make a covenant?). However, covenants achieve much more than merely “legalising” existing sets of relationships. For example, the covenant between Joshua and the Gibeonites (Josh 9:15–20) does not merely formalise a pre-existing relationship, it creates a new relationship of peace where previously there had been enmity, even if that enmity was hidden when the covenant was made. Hence “covenant” is not simply synonymous with “relationship”; a covenant is a specific type of relationship. Hugenberger provides a comprehensive and integrated inductive definition of בְּרִית in his defence of the “covenantal” nature of Old Testament marriage. Decrying “the now discredited notion that ‘covenant [בְּרִית]’ is essentially a synonym for ‘relationship’”,[16] Hugenberger maintains that there is now a “substantial scholarly consensus” about “the major elements which typically comprise a covenant”. His working definition of a בְּרִית in its normal sense is “an elected, as opposed to natural, relationship of obligation under oath”.[17] This definition of “covenant” is not apriori, but comes from a careful examination of the occurrences of the word in their ot context. We have good reason, therefore, to adopt it as our working definition. A covenant is elected because it is always entered into by choice rather than necessity. Hence “בְּרִית is nowhere employed of naturally occurring relationships and the ordinary obligations which attend them, such as those which exist between parents and a child”.[18] A covenant is relational because it always involves two parties.[19] This explains the common use of familial terminology to describe a covenant, even though the parties previously had no kinship bond.[20] But a covenant is not just any type of relationship; it is specifically a relationship of obligation, because it always binds one or both of the parties to certain specified duties.[21] Finally, a covenant is always solemnified by an oath or oath-sign (e.g. a solemn rite).[22] In fact, בְּרִית may be used as a shorthand for אוֹת בְּרִית, “covenantal sign” (e.g. circumcision, Gen 17:9–14).[23] [1] Based on Gordon P. Hugenberger, Marriage as a Covenant: A Study of Biblical Law & Ethics Governing Marriage, Developed from the Perspective of Malachi (Vetus Testamentum Supplements; Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1994), 11. [2] Ernest W. Nicholson, God and His People: Covenant and Theology in the Old Testament (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1986), 13. [3] Nicholson, God and his People, 16. [4] Nicholson, God and his People, 18–20. [5] Nicholson, God and his People, 90. [6] Nicholson, God and his People, 91–92. [7] Nicholson, God and his People, 106–8. [8] M. Weinfeld, בְּרִית”, TDOT 2:253–79 (esp. 255). See also H. Hegermann, “διαθήκη”, EDNT 1:299. [9] Weinfeld, TDOT 2:256. [10] James Barr, “Some Semantic Notes on the Covenant”, in Beiträge zur Alttestamentlichen Theologie: Festschrift für Walther Zimmerli zum 70. Geburtstag (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1977), 23–38 (31). [11] Barr, “Semantic Notes”, 33. [12] Barr, “Semantic Notes”, 34. [13] This language comes from Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, 17. [14] William J. Dumbrell, Covenant and Creation: An Old Testament Covenantal Theology (Exeter: Paternoster, 1984), 16–20. [15] Dumbrell, Covenant and Creation, 22–26. Dumbrell also employs a semantic argument, distinguishing the perpetuation (הֵקִים) of a covenant relationship from its establishment (כָּרַת). The appropriateness of this distinction had earlier been questioned by Barr, “Semantic Notes”, 33. Paul R. Williamson, “Covenant”, in Dictionary of the Old Testament: Pentateuch (ed. T. Desmond Alexander, David W. Baker; Downers Grove: IVP, 2003), 139–55 (142–43) demonstrates the semantic weakness of Dumbrell’s case. [16] Hugenberger, Marriage, 4. [17] Hugenberger, Marriage, 11, emphasis mine. [18] Hugenberger, Marriage, 180; see also Nicholson, God and his People, 215–16. [19] Hugenberger, Marriage, 176. [20] Hugenberger, Marriage, 177–79. [21] Hugenberger, Marriage, 181. According to Hugenberger, there is some debate about whether a covenant can be entirely “unilateral”, such that only one of the two parties is under obligation; but Hugenberger’s own case is not affected by this debate because he is interested in marriage, which is always bilateral. [22] Hugenberger, Marriage, 182–83. [23] Hugenberger, Marriage, 173–74. We’ve seen a couple of approaches to the task of detecting ‘covenant’ ideas in Paul. These approaches are, in the end, hopelessly subjective, because they start with an assumed definition of ‘covenant’ which is then read into Paul’s texts. A much better approach is to begin with Paul’s actual use of the word ‘covenant’ and see what he makes of it. (This post is part of a series. See here for an introduction to the series.) Here are some important features of Paul’s use of the word διαθήκη (Gal 3:15, 3:17, 4:24; 1 Cor 11:25; 2 Cor 3:6, 14; Rom 9:4, 11:27; Eph 2:12). Firstly, plurality is a significant feature in at least seven of the nine instances of διαθήκη in Paul. The plural form is used twice (Rom 9:4, Eph 2:12). In five of the instances, one covenant is compared or contrasted with another: a covenant ratified by God (Gal 3:15) has the same binding force as a human covenant (Gal 3:17); Sarah and Hagar are metaphorically two different covenants (Gal 4:24); Paul and Timothy are ministers of a new covenant (2 Cor 3:6), whereas there is a veil over the public reading of the old covenant (2 Cor 3:14). Furthermore, the word καινή (“new”) in reference to the covenant in Jesus’ blood (1 Cor 11:25) probably implies a previous covenant or covenants. Hence we should expect Paul’s concept of “covenant” to have some pluriformity. Secondly, every instance of διαθήκη occurs in a context in which the Old Testament is unmistakeably on view. The Abraham narrative (Genesis 12–22) features prominently in ot citations in Galatians 3–4 (Gal 3:6 // Gen 15:6; Gal 3:8 // Gen 12:3, 18:18, 22:18, cf. 26:4; Gal 3:16 // Gen 13:15, 17:8; Gal 4:22 // Gen 16:15, 21:2; Gal 4:30 // Gen 21:10). Other relevant ot background includes the “covenant” of law given at Sinai (cf. Gal 4:24 with Exod 19:5), the stipulations and curses of this law (Gal 3:10 // Deut 27:26; Gal 3:12 // Lev 18:5; Gal 3:13 // Deut 21:23), the role of Moses as glorious mediator of the law (2 Cor 3:6–7, 14 // Exod 34:29–35), the covenant of priestly ministry (cf. 2 Cor 3:6 with Isa 61:5–9, Jer 33:20–22, Mal 2:4–9, Neh 13:29), the covenants of peace and redemption with the eschatological Israel / Jerusalem (Gal 4:26–27 // Isa 54:1, 10; Rom 11:27 // Isa 27:9, 59:21; cf. Isa 65–66), and the “new covenant” through which the law is written on the heart (2 Cor 3:6 // Jer 31:31–33, cf. 2 Cor 3:2–3). Also on view may be passages which describe a “covenant” in terms of blood or suffering (cf. 1 Cor 11:25 with Isa 49:7–8, Zech 9:11). More generally, the covenants are associated strongly with national Israel. The covenants belong to Israel “according to the flesh” (Rom 9:4) and are connected with “the commonwealth of Israel” (Eph 2:12). Thirdly, Paul is particularly interested in the outcome of the covenants, especially insofar as they fulfil a promise or promises. There are covenants “of [the] promise” (Eph 2:12). An annulled covenant would invalidate the promise of inheritance (Gal 3:17–18). Two covenants are metaphorically mothers who “bear” children, either “into slavery” (Gal 4:24) or “of promise” (Gal 4:28). The ministry of the new covenant (2 Cor 3:6) results in life (verse 7) and righteousness (verse 9). Israel, who possesses the covenants (among other things) is the one from whom, according to the flesh, comes Christ who is God over all (Rom 9:4–5). The covenant with Israel results in salvation and the removal of sins (Rom 11:27). Negatively, being aliens with respect to the covenants of the promise means hopeless godlessness (Eph 2:12). Fourthly, two of the instances associate covenants with Christ’s blood (i.e. his crucifixion). Jesus says that the cup is the new covenant “in my blood” (1 Cor 11:25, cf. Matt 26:28, Mark 14:24, Luke 22:20). Those who were “aliens of the covenants of the promise” (Eph 2:12) are “brought near” by “Christ’s blood” (Eph 2:13) and are subsequently no longer “aliens” (Eph 2:19). This points to a connection between covenant and sacrifice. Furthermore, contrary to the popular assumption that “covenant” is a corporate or ecclesiological word, Paul never uses διαθήκη as a designation for the people of God.[1] He prefers terms such as “assembly” (e.g. 1 Cor 1:2, 2 Cor 1:1, Gal 1:2, Eph 1:22, 1 Thess 1:1, 2 Thess 1:1), “brothers” (Rom 1:13, 1 Cor 1:10, 2 Cor 1:8, Gal 1:11, Phil 1:12, Col 1:2, 1 Thess 1:4, 2 Thess 1:3, 1 Tim 4:6) and “saints” (Rom 1:7, 1 Cor 1:2, 2 Cor 1:1, Eph 1:1, Phil 1:1, Col 1:2, 1 Tim 5:10). [1] Ellen J. Christiansen, The Covenant in Judaism & Paul: A Study of Ritual Boundaries as Identity Markers (Arbeiten zur Geschichte des Antiken Judentums und des Urchristentums 27; Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1995), 270. How do you look for ‘covenantal’ ideas in Paul when he only rarely uses the word ‘covenant’? (This post is part of a series. See here for an introduction to the series.) Of course, we must admit that “covenantal” concepts may be present in a Pauline passage without the word διαθήκη appearing. Porter, for example, suggests that a serious investigation of the “covenant” concept in Paul is needed. Such an investigation would go beyond naïve word studies and take account of the concept of “semantic domain”. A proper lexical study of “covenant” in Paul must take into account patterns of usage, synonyms, antonyms, syntactical patterns, literary types, situation and culture, etc.[1] Porter adopts a particular definition of covenant: “the salvific relationship between God and his people”.[2] On this basis, he suggests that we exclude instances where διαθήκη means “last will and testament” in the Hellenistic sense (Gal 3:15, possibly Gal 3:17; cf. Heb 9:15–17),[3] and then examine other words that may be related to the concept of covenant, such as “mediator” (μεσίτης, Gal 3:19, 20),[4] “promise” (ἐπαγγελ-, Gal 3, Rom 4:13, 16, 20, Rom 9:8, Eph 2:12),[5] and “ministry” or “service” (διακον-, 2 Cor 3).[6] Porter claims that the “righteousness” (δικ-) concept, too, overlaps significantly with the “covenant” concept by virtue of a shared concern with the relationship between God and people.[7] Porter is correct in warning that theological concepts cannot be restricted to the use of an individual lexical item. However, there is some stability in the sense of words, especially technical words, and so any overlap between word and concept must be addressed on a case-by-case basis. In this case, as we shall see, there is a strong connection between the Old Testament term בְּרִית. (almost exclusively translated διαθήκη in the LXX)[8] and the biblical concept of the covenant, with which Paul would have been familiar.[9] We shall also see that every instance of διαθήκη in the New Testament (including Gal 3:15) corresponds very closely with the ot word term בְּרִית / διαθήκη rather than the Hellenistic “last will and testament”. Hence an investigation of the uses of διαθήκη in Paul, although incomplete in itself, is the most logical starting point for a broader investigation of the covenant concept in his thought. Furthermore, semantic domain analysis needs strict controls, because it can easily become too dependent upon the subjective judgments of those who perform the semantic mappings. Porter’s article itself is subject to this criticism. He adopts an apriori definition of “covenant” (“the salvific relationship between God and his people”)[10] but shows no inclination to modify his definition in the light of his discoveries. Porter relies upon the Louw-Nida semantic domain lexicon, which groups the “covenantal” uses of διατίθεμαι (34.43) and διαθήκη (34.44) together with “justify” (δικαιόω 34.46), righteous (δίκαιος 34.47) and other words under the general topic “establish or confirm a relation” (34.42–34.49).[11] Louw-Nida also explicitly denies a forensic element in the δικαι-* word-group, regarding relational (covenantal) and legal categories as mutually exclusive (34.46).[12] But there are many questionable assumptions in these classifications. There are many different types of relationship. Just because covenants are “relational”, and righteousness is “relational”, it does not necessarily follow that righteousness is covenantal. Neither are forensic categories necessarily inimical to relationships. In fact, Seifrid’s careful analysis of the terminology suggests that “righteousness” is much more connected to “creational” categories of relationship than “covenantal”; that is, “righteousness” refers to a relationship with God as creator and judge, which implies both normative and forensic categories.[13] While the semantic fields of “righteousness” and “covenant” may overlap at times in the Old Testament, New Testament and intertestamental literature, “righteousness” is a concept fundamentally distinct from “covenant”.[14]. Hence Porter’s analysis collapses under the weight of his unexamined assumptions. Dunn’s view of the covenant in Paul is even more subjective. He argues that every reference to the actual word διαθήκη in the Pauline corpus is incidental, even rhetorical. But because of Dunn’s prior convictions about the covenantal continuity between Christian believers and historical Israel, he insists that Paul’s whole discourse has an implicit underlying “covenant theology”.[15] He explains this discrepancy by positing that the covenantal relationship between God and his people was a basic uncontroversial assumption shared by Paul and his opponents, so Paul usually had no need to mention the word “covenant”.[16] This is not very helpful for those who do not share Dunn’s presuppositions. [1] Porter, “Covenant in Paul”, 273. [2] Porter, “Covenant in Paul”, 275. [3] Porter, “Covenant in Paul”, 275–79. [4] Porter, “Covenant in Paul”, 280–81; cf. J. Gurht, O. Becker, “Covenant, Guarantee, Mediator”, NIDNTT 1:365–76 [5] Porter, “Covenant in Paul”, 283–84. [6] Porter, “Covenant in Paul”, 284. [7] Porter, “Covenant in Paul”, 281–83. [8] In Gen 14:13 בַּעַל בְּרִית (“covenant-partner’) is translated with συνωμότης (“confederate’). This is the only exception not due to textual variations (cf. Deut 9:15; 1 Sam 4:3-5; 1 Kgs 11:11, 19:10; 2 Kgs 17:15; Job 5:23; Jer 11:8; Ezek 20:37; 2 Chr 23:1). [9] Moisés Silva, “Old Testament in Paul”, DPL 630–42. [10] Porter, “Covenant in Paul”, 275. [11] Johannes P. Louw and Eugene P. Nida, Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament Based on Semantic Domains (2 vols.; New York: United Bible Societies, 1988), 1:451–53. [12] Porter, “Covenant in Paul”, 281–84. [13] Mark A. Seifrid, “Righteousness Language in the Hebrew Scriptures and Early Judaism”, in Justification and Variegated Nomism Volume 1: The Complexities of Second Temple Judaism (ed. D. A. Carson, Peter T. O’Brien and Mark A. Seifrid; Mohr Siebeck: Tübingen, 2001), 415–42; Seifrid, “Paul’s Use of Righteousness Language”. Porter “Covenant in Paul”, 282, quotes Seifrid, but confesses ignorance of Seifrid’s understanding of the connection (or lack thereof) between righteousness and covenant. [14] Stephen Westerholm, Perspectives Old and New on Paul: The “Lutheran” Paul and His Critics (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004), 286–96. [15] James D. G. Dunn, “Did Paul Have a Covenant Theology?: Reflections on Romans 9.4 and 11.27”, in The Concept of the Covenant in the Second Temple Period (ed. Stanley E. Porter and Jacqueline C. R. de Roo; Supplements to the Journal for the Study of Judaism 71; Leiden: Brill, 2003), 287–307. [16] See also E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of the Patterns of Religion (London: SCM, 1977), 420–21. |
||||
|
Copyright © 2010 Forget the Channel - All Rights Reserved |
||||
