If you were to pull a "prodigal son" routine on a parent, how do you think they would react? You may recall that the prodigal son asked for his inheritance early so he could enjoy life in the fast lane: "Dad, I was wondering if I might cash in on your will before you die?"
Good luck with that one today, right? It’s just not done. You may end up with some cash in your hand, but it wouldn’t be from the will. The attorneys would nip that in the bud. It’s not legal to cash in on a will unless the author of the will is believed to be dead. Interestingly, this is a point made in Hebrews: In the case of a will, it is necessary to prove the death of the one who made it, because a will is in force only when somebody has died; it never takes effect while the one who made it is living. (Hebrews 9:16--17)
Why all this talk about wills, the legal system, and inheritance? Here the writer is drawing an analogy between a will going into effect and a covenant taking effect. In fact, the terms will, covenant, and testament are translations of the same Greek word.
The writer’s analogy and play on words serves to make an important point. Just as a will isn’t in effect without a death, a covenant doesn’t go into effect without a death. Hence, the New Covenant (or New Testament era) does not begin at Jesus’ birth but at his death.
As you may imagine, this point carries radical implications. First, the New Testament doesn’t actually begin in Matthew 1. In fact, it doesn’t begin at any page in the Bible. It begins at the point in history when Jesus’ blood was shed.
No blood was shed in the first chapter of Matthew, and no sacrificial death was carried out in the manger. It was not our Savior’s birth that changed everything. It was his death that inspired the apostles to declare the message of "out with the old, and in with the new."
As Paul puts it, Jesus was "born under the law, to redeem those under the law" (Galatians 4:4--5). So Jesus lived for thirty-three years on planet Earth while those around him still operated under the Old, not the New.
Where should we look, then, to see the New? The first effects of the New are evidenced in the book of Acts at Pentecost. The apostles’ letters to the church instruct us about life under the New. Although the entirety of the Bible is God’s Word, only some of it is intended as a system to live under today.
When we attempt to mix Old with New, we end up with a contradictory covenant of our own invention. This is where I lived for years. Since there were a few elements of the New in my imaginary covenant, it didn’t kill me right away. Instead, it afforded me a slower death.
I had adopted a belief system that was essentially a balance of Old and New. I neither suffered under the stringency of the entire law nor enjoyed the bliss of unconditional favor. For that reason, it would be years before my framework for relating to God would finally take its toll.
As you read this, you may be thinking, "Well, that’s not my problem. I have never struggled with whether or not I am under the law. I’ve always known better." That may be true, but that was true for me too! I would never have said that I needed to adhere to the Jewish law--far from it. It wasn’t the law of Moses that was holding me hostage; it was my own modern-day form of law that I was trying to live out.
Having raised my antennae toward the Christian world around me, I intercepted the subtle message that there are requirements to remain in God’s favor. This collection of "Thou shalts"--read your Bible, share your faith, participate in a lot of "church"--was a measuring stick by which I determined my worth and standing. These criteria served as a concrete way of determining whether or not I was in right relationship with God.
I had already accepted the work of Christ as the means to heaven. But it was my approach to daily living that was beating me up. Law as an everyday operating system was doing its work.
If we’re under a New Covenant, then what about the Old one? Is there still a place for it in our lives? The Scriptures shout a definitive No concerning the Old in the lives of believers today. Hebrews dismisses the notion of mingling the two: He sets aside the first to establish the second. And by that will, we have been made holy through the sacrifice of the body of Jesus Christ once for all. (Hebrews 10:9b--10)
Through the New, we find our standing as holy children of God. The first (Old) covenant was set aside because it made no one perfect. After all, it was a performance-based system, and no one could perform in a way that met its standards!
Imagine walking on eggshells your entire life as you try to do everything written in the law. How overwhelming! For that reason, the Old is now obsolete. It has been set aside due to our inability to cooperate with it:
By calling this covenant "new," [God] has made the first one obsolete; and what is obsolete and outdated will soon disappear. (Hebrews 8:13)
The former regulation is set aside because it was weak and useless (for the law made nothing perfect), and a better hope is introduced, by which we draw near to God. (Hebrews 7:18--19)
The Old is "weak and useless" in its attempts to perfect us. Today, we have a better option--the New. This new system introduced through the death of Jesus Christ actually works. It places us in perfect standing even though we don’t perform perfectly. Only through the New can we genuinely draw near to God.
Ever found yourself wanting to be closer to God? The New announces that we’re one spirit with him. We’re joined to him. We’re in him, and he’s in us. That’s as close as we’ll ever get!
When I’m feeling distant from God, it’s because I’ve measured myself and have come up short. This leads me to believe that God must be measuring me by this same standard. So I end up with the false conclusion that he’s distant from me. Under this logic, how would I get close again? Obviously, the only option would be to achieve in a way that I hadn’t achieved previously. This is wrong thinking, and thinking leads to feelings.
There’s only one way to get close to God--through the New. Any other way is a counterfeit that is invariably rooted in ill-conceived parallels with human relationships and driven by moment-to-moment feelings.
Throughout the four gospels, Jesus talks about the law. So what does he say about it? And should Jesus’ words serve as a guide for how we apply the law today?
As a kid, I remember being fascinated by a mirror next to my mother’s sink. It was a table-stand mirror that was round and double-sided. I could swivel the mirror to switch from standard reflection to a 3x magnification. After washing my face, I’d look into the standard reflection. My face would appear clean and clear. But once I flipped the mirror, the magnified side would reveal things I hadn’t been able to see before. Flaws in my complexion that were previously concealed became highly visible in the magnified image.
Here are two examples of how Jesus spoke about the law. As you read his words, see if you can identify the ways in which he’s magnifying the dirt on the face of humanity. Even the premium law keepers of the day appear filthy in light of what the law really requires: "You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ’You shall not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.’ But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment." (Matthew 5:21--22)
"You have heard that it was said, ’You shall not commit adultery.’ But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart." (Matthew 5:27--28)
What was Jesus doing when he spoke of the law? He was amplifying it, just as the double-sided mirror magnified the blemishes on my face. Jesus was using the law to show religious leaders exactly where they stood.
The fact that Jesus amplified the law to deflate self-satisfied performers isn’t stressed in much of today’s teaching. Many Christians attempt to apply directly to their lives every word Jesus said, without considering his audience and purpose. One reason that Jesus’ harsh teachings aren’t taught in context is that many don’t recognize the dividing line between the Old and the New. Remember that Christ was born and lived during the Old Covenant (law) era: But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship. (Galatians 4:4--5)
Jesus was born under the law. His audience was under the law. And they needed deliverance from it. So what would Jesus teach about the current religious system? Would he praise his hearers for their performance? Would he leave them satisfied with the status quo? Or would he highlight their feeble attempts at keeping the law? Naturally, he’d do the latter. Otherwise, what use would his work on the cross be to them?
So Jesus exposed the futility of life under law. He exclaimed, "Gouge out your eye" and "cut off your hand" if you truly want to keep the law (Matthew 5:29--30). His Jewish listeners would reach a crossroad. They would decide to try harder or to give up. Which response was Jesus hoping for as he swiveled the mirror so they could see their dirty faces in magnified form?
Once they gave up, they could consider a radical new way.
Jesus’ real intent is seen in the story of the rich young man. This man had tried his best to keep the law. Jesus looked at him and loved him. So why would Jesus point to the one thing this young man couldn’t do? Why would Jesus send him away brokenhearted? Because Jesus knew it was the only way to drive the man to consider the New: "Teacher," [the man] declared, "all these [commandments] I have kept since I was a boy." Jesus looked at him and loved him. "One thing you lack," he said. "Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me." At this the man’s face fell. He went away sad, because he had great wealth. (Mark 10:20--22)
If selling our possessions is the way to eternal life, then why isn’t this principle taught in today’s churches? Some say Jesus’ law-based teachings are for Christians today. But these same people don’t actually teach what Jesus mandated. Nor do they obey his harsh teachings themselves!
I’ve never heard an evangelist say we should put our possessions on eBay in order to enter the kingdom. Why not? Jesus said we should, didn’t he? But it simply doesn’t jibe with New Testament teachings on salvation through faith alone. Jesus’ impossible teachings of "sell everything, sever body parts if necessary, be perfect like God, and surpass the Pharisees with your righteousness" are not honestly compatible with salvation as a gift from God.
But all of this is resolved when we realize the dividing line in human history. Peter, James, John, and Paul wrote epistles about life under the New. Years earlier, Jesus was teaching hopelessness under the Old. The audience wasn’t the same. The covenant wasn’t the same. And the teachings aren’t the same.
Barbara had been struggling with depression for more than a decade. Painful circumstances had overwhelmed her to the point where she had little hope. One day, she was watching television when our church’s half-hour program came on. Barbara listened as I told of my own battle with guilt and anxiety over performing for God.
Barbara’s struggle was so similar that she decided to call me. After we had met together just a couple of times, Barbara began to notice some change. There was a difference in the way she felt about herself, in her perception of God, and in her overall energy level as she made her way through her day.
Barbara shared with me that reading the Bible had always been discouraging to her. There was always more to do that, quite frankly, she wasn’t doing. "Every time I picked up the Bible, I felt like a failure," she said.
Lately though, all of that had changed. I had steered Barbara toward a few dozen Scripture passages about her identity in Christ, her freedom from the law’s demands, and the boundless forgiveness she has in Christ. She told me that when she set her mind on those truths, she began to experience some relief from her debilitating depression.
But one evening, Barbara came into my office with a downcast expression again. "What happened?" I asked. "Well, everything was fine most of the week as I was reading the verses you gave me," she said. "But then I decided to read Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. After that, I’m not sure what happened."
"Ah, I see," I responded. "Let me assure you that what you experienced is normal for any honest, eager child of God when they read that passage."
I went on to explain the dividing line of Old and New. I told her how Jesus’ harsh teachings aimed at the religious kill you every time. Barbara began to see the distinction between what Jesus taught to Jews and what God wanted her to enjoy under the New. Her countenance lifted. Once again, truth had done its work.
One thing about distinguishing the Old from the New--it always liberates.
This sermon is from The Naked Gospel: The Truth You May Never Hear in Church (Zondervan, 2009). For more, visit www.TheNakedGospel.com
