The theme of every text in scripture is Jesus; that is, the person and work of Christ. That being said, it is far too easy to develop our own ideals concerning Jesus and then read these back into a text. The Bible itself must define who Jesus is; however, this does not mean that we collect that set of proof texts that matches our own preconceptions. Rather, we must be able to recognize the covenantal structure that serves as the Bible’s own interpretive grid. This structure is, essentially, the Covenant of Works and, apart from it, Christ cannot be properly understood.
The covenant begins at creation. Adam is set up as the vassal king in charge of the Edenic temple. It is his task to guard the sanctity thereof. As a matter of justice, successful completion of this task would be greatly rewarded. Adam failed, yet, the covenant itself remains intact, and, because of this, there is room for the Last Adam to take his place. This Last Adam is Christ and he will be defined entirely according to the paradigm set up in the Covenant of Works. While this means that Christ is the ultimate goal of redemptive history, scripture takes it to an even deeper level. It tells the story in such a way that Christ permeates history. This is done by treating the various episodes within this history as typological republications of the original covenantal story.
Consider Genesis 14. Abram, the vassal king, has just guarded the sanctity of the land by driving out the invading kings and then declaring his allegiance to the Lord as his suzerain. Justice for this situation requires that Abram be rewarded, so he is entirely within his rights when in chapter 15 he says to the Lord, “What will you give me?” God’s answer, that Abram would have descendants as numerous as the stars, leads to the observation that Abram believed the Lord and this was counted to him as righteousness.
This observation, however, presents a problem. So far, the entire scenario has been set up in terms of a reward that Abram receives for something he has done. But when Paul comments on this verse, both in Romans 4 and in Galatians 3, he is making the point that Abraham’s righteousness came by faith and not by works. The situation is not immediately remedied when James weighs in with the second chapter of his epistle. He claims that this verse is fulfilled when Abraham is justified by works in the sacrifice of Isaac. So then, are James’ hermeneutical skills superior to Paul’s?
Consider, first of all, that James is speaking of the evidence and not the grounds of justification. Whereas the background of Genesis 15:6, as originally stated, is Genesis 14, James use of this verse considers it in the subsequent context of Genesis 22. Still, it is necessary to explain why Paul opts for justification by faith when the immediate context seems to indicate works. The solution to this problem comes when we realize that Abram recognized the typological nature of his own situation. When God promised him descendants as numerous as the stars, Abram was able to reference this back to the original declaration of the covenant to him in Genesis 12, the same declaration that, in Galatians 3:8, is identified as “the gospel preached beforehand to Abraham.”
Abram’s faith lifted him from the realm of typology to that of reality. His faith was not merely in the fact that God had spoken, as though believing anything that God might happen to say is sufficient unto righteousness. Nor was it in his own recent accomplishments as a typological Adam. Rather, it was in the fulfillment of the type, which is found in the person and work of Christ, who is the antitypical and eschatological Adam.
Now that we have seen the nature of Abram’s faith, the potency thereof is drawn into question. When God tells him that he called him out of Ur to give him this land, Abram asks, “How am I to know that I shall possess it?” But the question in our own minds only comes if we aren’t aware of the covenantal context. God had just initiated a covenant treaty ratification ceremony and Abram’s response was the only appropriate one under the circumstances.
Perhaps it would help if a comparison were drawn with a similar ceremony that took place on Sinai. In that situation, the historical prologue is stated, “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.” This is followed by a list of covenant stipulations. Compare this historical prologue with that given to Abram, “I am the LORD who brought you out from Ur of the Chaldeans to give you this land to possess.” Other than locale, these appear to be identical; nevertheless, an important element is missing from the account in Genesis. It may be easy to overlook at first because, though present in the Exodus account, it remains unspoken. The historical prologue in Exodus assumes the crossing of the Red Sea, which involved both the redemption of God’s people and the judgment of his enemies. In that event, God himself, in the double pillared Theophany of cloud and fire, passed through the divided waters. The Red Sea crossing goes on to serve as the evidence, required by the terms of the treaty itself, that God will fulfill all of his promises to Israel.
According to the structure of the treaty that God had just initiated with Abram, and by the dictates of his own justice, he was legally bound to offer proof that he would fulfill his promises. He does this through a “Red Sea” crossing; however, this time it isn’t water, but animals’ bodies that are divided. Notice also the similarity of form that the Theophany takes. In the one instance, it is the double pillar of cloud and fire; in the other, it is a smoking firepot and a flaming torch. During this proving ceremony, God also gives Abram an historical preview of what will happen to his descendants. The typological Covenant of Works was to be be reenacted by the nation of Israel.
The fulfillment of this covenant involves acting out the image of God. Note the pattern. God judges Satan; Adam’s act of judging the serpent would reflect God’s image, but he fails. God judges Egypt; Israel’s act of judging the Canaanites would reflect God’s image, but they fail. Abram’s situation is, admittedly, out of sequence; nevertheless, in the slaughter of the kings, he has successfully reflected the divine image. Still, none of this would mean a thing without the antitype. God judges Satan; the Last Adam reflects God’s image by crushing the serpent’s head. However, this act involves the bruising of his own heal. Because he has taken upon himself the sin of the world, Christ’s judgment of the serpent entails God’s judgment of Christ. In accordance with the symbolism of the serpent that Moses raises in the wilderness, these two judgments are merged into one event.
Not only God’s words spoken during the proving ceremony, but the ceremony itself points to Christ. This can be seen in the broken bodies and shed blood of the animal victims. Hebrews 10:20 alludes to this when it speaks of the living way opened for us through Christ’s flesh. Furthermore, Jesus self designation as “the way, the truth, and the life” can now can be seen as intimately tied to his death. The crucifixion, as the antitypical Red Sea Crossing, is the proof that God will fulfill his promises. Paul had this in mind in Romans 8:32 when he wrote, “He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?”
Posted by kcourter at agosto 23, 2003 1:58 AMAre you certain "The Covenant" isn't your interpretational grid for Scripture? Are you certain it simply isn't your "preconception"?
Posted by: JosiahQ at agosto 23, 2003 1:14 PMGood questions; although, in light of comments that you have made suggesting a disjuncture between the existence of objective truth and the possiblity of our ever knowing what it is, I may be justified in reading them as statements. "The Covenant is nothing more than your interpretive grid for scripture, it is simply your own preconception." And the obvious answer to this would be, "Are you certain?" If this is your position, then a continued dialogue is going to be virtually impossible. We would be too different in our philosophical and, I would even argue, theological assumptions.
However, I'd prefer to operate under the assumption that, if I have correctly identified your views on the possibility of biblical knowledge, these are merely peripheral inconsistencies and not core parts of your belief system. And I do, in fact, believe this to be the case. Either that, or I have completely misread your questions. Now, if we can both start with the idea that God intended for us to know what scripture was talking about, then I can get somewhere with answering you. By this, I do not not mean exhaustive or infallible knowledge. Epistemological indubitability is a modernistic fantasy; it is not a biblically valid criterion for knowledge. So when I defend the possibility of knowable objective truth, please don't read too much into this.
As to your questions, of course the covenant is my own interpretive grid and I am certain that it is not simply my own preconception. Let me explain. All writing, including scripture, is going to undergo the subjective interpretations of its various readers. However, we cannot assume from this that all interpretations are equally valid or that it's just impossible to know who's right. Neither of these options takes seriously the notion of authorial intent. Now, I know that it's tempting to claim that, if the author isn't around to ask, we're right back in square one. But it doesn't have to be this bleak. A major step in figuring out what the author meant is to recognize genre. It helped me out of dispensationalism when I finally learned to distinguish didactic and prohetic literature. I could no longer believe that Ezekiel 40-48 was talking about a literal future temple in Israel because Hebrews just wouldn't allow for it. Of course, it is entirely possible to miss the genre altogether. After I posted "Particular Redemption" at Covenant, one of the professors informed me that a student had come to him upset because she thought I was being serious. Nevertheless, genre does follow certain rules and, once these have been learned, it provides a reliable, though not exhaustive tool for approaching an understanding of what an author meant.
When an author writes something, he means something by it and, usually, wants to be understood. The Holy Spirit is no exception. A good author will write within an interpretive grid. The task of the reader is to determine what that is and then to conform his own interpretations to it. So then, if I believe that the covenant is the Bible's own interpretive grid, then there's no question that I will want to adopt it for myself. I know, your still asking, "So what's your basis for believing that the covenant is the Bible's own interpretive grid?" This goes back to my answer to your second question, that I am certain that this is not simply my own preconception. The reason for this is that I am making a conscientious effort to build upon hundreds of years of Covenant Theology within the church, especially since the time of the Reformation. I do not think that we can believe just anything about scripture, nor am I convinced that the sum of scriptural knowledge was reached at Westminster. The very incomprehensibility of God indicates that the church will always be growing in its understanding of doctrine. For this reason, I believe that there is a call to push forward in our understanding of scripture while remaining firmly planted in orthodoxy.
With all of this in mind then, am I absolutely certain that the covenant is the interpretive grid for scripture? No, I'm not. Here's what I am certain of: all scripture, without exception, is about Christ. This means that when I approach any text, Christ as the subject matter will be a given. That being said, it is often difficult and sometimes impossible to figure out just exactly how a text is about him. I have been working on this for sometime and, so far, the covenant has been the best means that I have found for opening a text up to see Christ. Nevertheless, while I am unwilling to budge on whether a particular text is ultimatley about Christ, I welcome feedback that would suggest better ways to interpret the texts and see him.
Along with my belief that the church's understanding of theology must continue to grow, I also cannot accept the fact that I have somehow latched onto the final interpretive key. I would love it if someone could show me how to modify the grid I have adopted or perhaps replace it altogether if only it would allow me access to a fuller picture of Christ.
Posted by: Kevin at agosto 23, 2003 11:29 PM