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Pentecost in Matthew

The coming of Jesus represents a transformation of the law and the relation of the law to God's people. How, then, is the law of Moses to be fulfilled now, in this new age, in the light of the resurrection of Christ? We can answer the question properly only by understanding the nature of Christ's work and its consequences.

The transformation of the law does not take place all in a moment. There are at least two stages, namely the stage of Jesus' earthly life and the stage following his resurrection. If we wish, we may make finer distinctions and list even more stages, as they are given to us in the outline of Luke-Acts: angelic announcements of the dawn of salvation (Luke 1), the birth of Jesus (Luke 2), the beginning of John the Baptist's public ministry (Luke 3:1-20), the baptism of Jesus (3:21-23), the beginning of Jesus' public ministry (4:14-15), the Passion (22:1-23:56), the resurrection (24:1-12), the ascension (Acts 1:9-11), Pentecost (Acts 2), the spread of the Gospel to Samaria (Acts 8), the first Gentile converts (Acts 10), and so on.

Luke, by providing us with the Book of Acts, shows in some detail how Christian faith works out in the context of Jesus' completed work of salvation. We see the church struggling over the status of Gentiles and the relevance of the law of Moses (Acts 11; 15). We see that the Holy Spirit, as opposed to distinctive obedience to Jewish law, constitutes the mark of salvation and incorporation into the chosen people of God (11:17; 15:8-11).

Matthew, by contrast, gives us no second volume; there is no Matthean form of the Book of Acts. He does, however, give us a brief sketch of the meaning of Acts through the final words of his Book, namely the Great Commission of 28:16-20. These words indicate the nature of the transition to the new, postresurrection era, because, as we shall see, they express in a brief form some of the same truths that we find in the more elaborate picture in Acts.

The Great Commission in Matthew is first and foremost a commission to spread the gospel. In this respect, it condenses the same truths that Jesus expresses in the commission in Acts 1:8 and the subsequent narrative of Acts. Acts spells out how the gospel spread, beginning from Jerusalem but not stopping until it reached Rome, the center of the Empire and therefore a fitting symbol of the universal outreach of the gospel.

But the Great Commission is not merely a bare command to spread the gospel. It contains a promise and an assertion as well. "Surely I will be with you always, to the very end of the age," Jesus promises. The promise of continued presence at all times and places ("all nations") points to the fact that his presence takes a new form--the form defined more precisely by the Pentecostal giving of the Spirit. Such presence of the Spirit, which is also the presence of Jesus himself, empowers and motivates the proclaiming and discipling. Second, the Commission contains an assertion, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me." This assertion serves to announce the realities most closely associated with the ascension of Christ and his sitting at God's right hand. It thus briefly adumbrates the fuller narrative in Acts 1 and the interpretations of Christ's rule in the New Testament epistles. Moreover, it also directly supplies backing for the Commission: "Go therefore . . . ," that is, go on the basis of my universal authority and claim to the allegiance of all nations. It thus anticipates the declarations in Acts of Jesus' Lordship (Acts 2:36; 10:36, 42; 17:31). In sum, Matt. 28:16-20 anticipates in highly condensed form the complete narrative given in the Book of Acts.

Obedience to the law in the Great Commission

Notably, God's commandments have a continuing role according to the Great Commission. Those who receive the gospel are to be taught "to obey everything I have commanded you." Moreover, the Commission includes not merely announcement of the truth, but "making disciples." A disciple is nothing without a master whom he must obey. The master, in this case, is clearly Jesus, and what the disciples obey is "everything I have commanded you."

The rest of the Gospel of Matthew is organized in such a way that it leads naturally up to these verses. As is widely acknowledged, the Gospel contains five large blocks of Jesus' teaching, namely Matt. 5-7 (the Sermon on the Mount), 10 (instructions on sending the Twelve), 13 (parables concerning mysteries of the kingdom of heaven), 18 (shepherding and caring for one another in the community), 22-25 (prophetic denunciations and warnings, including parables about rewards and judgments). A comparison with Mark and Luke shows that Matthew has sometimes arranged this teaching material topically rather than merely chronologically. These blocks are closely linked to the phrase "everything I have commanded you" in 28:20. By the very organization of his Gospel Matthew has provided a kind of handbook of Jesus' teaching relevant to the postresurrection duties of disciples.

Among the duties of disciples we must include obedience to the Old Testament law. "Everything I have commanded you" naturally includes the Sermon on the Mount, and within the Sermon it includes Jesus' statement about the continuing force of the law:

I tell you the truth, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished. Anyone who breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. (5:18-19).

The claims in both 28:18-20 and 5:17-20 are sweeping and powerful. On this basis some people have understandably not hesitated to draw strong inferences about the obligation of Christians to practice thorough, meticulous observance of the entire law of Moses:

[Christ] says that a person's relation to the kingdom of God is determined by meticulous observance of the least details of the law. . . . The breaking of the very least stipulation of the law generates God's displeasure; taking an erroneous teaching position with respect to the details of the law (e.g., that the exhaustive details of God's law no longer bind Christians or this period of history) does the same.1

But, as we have seen, the word "fulfill" and various other elements in the Sermon on the Mount point away from understanding New Testament obedience to the law of Moses as a purely static continuation of the Old. They imply a profound transformation of the law, because the law is brought to fulfillment. The kingdom of God has come. The last days--eschatology in a broad sense--have begun. Similarly, the Great Commission itself contains suggestions of the same transformations and discontinuities.

To begin with, the Great Commission speaks of making disciples "of all nations." The kingdom of God breaks the bounds of Israel and the elements in Mosaic law that functioned to separate Israel from all other nations. Matthew alone of all the Gospels has the radical statement, "Therefore I tell you that the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people who will produce its fruit" (21:43).

Next, the Great Commission indicates a change in criteria for membership in the people of God. In Acts, of course, many Jewish Christians of the Pharisaic party still continued to believe for a time that salvation came by incorporation into the Jews and practice of Jewish distinctives (15:5). Matthew refutes this idea, not directly as in Acts 15, but through an indication of the true basis for membership in God's people, when he speaks of "baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit" (28:19). What is the meaning of this baptism? Baptism as a cleansing rite fulfills the baptism of John the Baptist, which in turn was partly based on the cleansing rites specified by the Mosaic law. John warned people not to rely merely on their external membership in the Old Testament covenant people (3:9-10). An eschatological judgment was coming that would sift them for their fruit (3:10-12). In the light of coming judgment, they should repent, confess their sins, and be baptized as a symbol of the washing away of sin. The baptism mentioned in 28:19 goes beyond John's baptism, in that it is baptism "in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit." That is, this new baptism brings people into enjoyment of fellowship and blessing from God. It is parallel to the Aaronic priestly blessing of the law, which placed the name of God on Israel (Num. 6:22-27). Significantly, the name of God now explicitly includes the name of the Son. He has died and risen, and thereby supremely revealed God and definitively opened the way to fellowship with God.

Being part of God's people is thus inaugurated by baptism, rather than by circumcision and becoming a Jew. One continues as a part of God's people by being a disciple of Jesus. A Jew of Jesus' time would have characterized his Jewishness above all as being under "the yoke of the law"--including circumcision and food laws that most vividly separated Jews from Gentiles in society. By contrast, the Great Commission characterizes the people of God by loyalty to their ever-living Master.2 To be sure, such loyalty never implies antinomianism, but rather obedience to the teachings of the Master. These teachings, not the Law of Moses, constitute the immediate reference point for the disciple's obedience. These teachings of the Master come in their newness and in their fullness of revelation, as well as in their continuity with the Law of Moses, and the affirmations of the validity of the Law in 5:17-20.

Moreover, the teachings and the personal presence of the Master must always be held together, as they are in the Gospel of Matthew. The Great Commission itself vigorously proclaims both Jesus' teaching ("everything I have commanded you") and Jesus' personal presence to authorize, empower, and apply the teaching ("surely I will be with you always, to the very end of the age"). The Master is not a mute, idealized example, whom each person honors in the way that seems best in his own eyes. One who claims to be a disciple of the Master must show his honor and obedience to the Master very concretely, through keeping his commands.

Conversely, obedience is not a mechanical response to an abstract, disembodied commandment. The commandment is always the commandment of the Master, who himself perfectly embodies and mightily empowers obedience through his love and personal communion through his name. This communion is inaugurated in baptism in his name, which identifies the disciple with his death and resurrection and his life forevermore.

The two sides to discipleship are aptly illustrated by the two sides to the organization of Matthew's Gospel. The five teaching blocks are interspersed with five narrative blocks. Whereas the teaching blocks expand most pointedly on the commandments of the Master, the narrative blocks expand on the meaning of his personal presence, his blessings of healing, his fellowship with sinners, and his friendship with his disciples. Both the teaching blocks and the narrative blocks are brought to a climactic fulfillment in the Passion Narrative (Matt. 26-28), which fulfills both his life and his teaching.

The broader role of the Old Testament in the Great Commission

When we take into account the theme of fulfillment in the whole of Matthew, we cannot rigidly isolate the role of the law of Moses from the role of the Old Testament in general. The Old Testament as a whole, as well as the law of Moses in particular, finds fulfillment in the life and work of Jesus Christ. Old Testament psalms and prophecies throw additional light on how the legal parts of the Old Testament have a forward-pointing function.

In Matthew, it is possible that the various blocks of teaching and narrative each focus to some degree on the theme of fulfillment of some part of the Old Testament. The first narrative block (chapters 1-4) has a remarkable number of parallels with the narratives of Mosaic times. The first teaching block (5-7) has parallels with the teaching of Moses.

When we come to the second narrative block (8-9), we find a focus on the expansion of Jesus' ministry and of the kingdom of God. God's rule extends to the sick (8:14-17; 9:1-8), the unclean (8:1-4), the Gentiles (8:5-13), the demonized (8:28-34; 9:32-33), the dead (9:18-26), the physical elements (8:23-27) and the sinners (9:9-13). The narrative also includes a saying that hints about the expansion of the kingdom beyond the bounds of Old Testament order (9:14-17) and ends with a statement about the necessity of expansion in view of the great harvest (9:35-38). The teaching block in chapter 10 picks up on the same theme, as Jesus commissions the Twelve to participate in the expansion. Thus both narrative and teaching blocks correspond to the great period of expansion in the Old Testament, namely the conquest under Joshua.

The third narrative block (11-12) shows the growth of misunderstanding, misinterpretation, and opposition to Jesus' ministry. The corresponding teaching block (13) contains primarily parables expounding the mystery of the kingdom. The idea of wisdom versus lack of wisdom becomes prominent. The disciples know the fundamental mysteries, whereas they are concealed from others (13:11). This contrast relates to the theme of wisdom and foolishness in Old Testament wisdom literature. The very genre of parable revives something of the Old Testament mashal \O(Hebrew מָשָׁל) \oor proverb, characteristic of wisdom literature. Matt 13:34-35 explains Jesus' parabolic teaching by quoting from Psalm 78, a kind of wisdom psalm that encourages Israel to draw wise insights from the lessons of history. The quote itself speaks of bringing to light "things hidden since the creation of the world," an achievement possible only through the wisdom associated with creation (Prov. 8). In Matt 11:25-30 Jesus again speaks of revealing secret wisdom, and uses language about himself and his "yoke" similar to what Jews had traditionally associated with personified wisdom (see Sir. 53:23-28).

The fourth narrative block (14-17) and teaching block (18) may have some focus on the responsibilities of shepherding God's people. Certainly the idea of caring properly for God's people is prominent in the teaching in chapter 18. The figure of shepherd and sheep is invoked in 18:10-14. The narrative demonstrates that Jesus, not the official religious leaders, is the true leader and shepherd of the people of Israel. Two feeding miracles occur (14:13-21; 15:29-39), as well as a statement about "the lost sheep of the house of Israel" (15:24) and criticism of the Pharisees as false shepherds (15:1-20; 16:1-12). Peter's confession (16:13-20) highlights that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of David. But Jesus knows, as Peter does not, that the Son of Man, like David, must undergo suffering for the sake of the flock (16:21-28). These materials therefore have a relation to the Old Testament figure of the Davidic king. They thereby fulfill the historical narratives that rehearse the ups and downs of the monarchy, as the leaders succeed or fail to be true shepherds. The relevant materials are found in Judges-Kings. Chronicles, Ezra, and Nehemiah are somewhat less directly related to these concerns, since they were written from a postexilic point of view, when there was no reigning king. Leadership came from governors (Nehemiah) and priests (Ezra). But the question of proper shepherds for the people was still a real one.

The fifth narrative block (19:1-21:22) and teaching block (21-25) are predominantly prophetic in nature, as Jesus speaks of the fall of Jerusalem, the final judgment, and criteria for punishment and rewards. These materials clearly represent Jesus as fulfilling the prophetic ministry of the Old Testament.

If the above analysis is correct, each narrative block is to be linked most closely with the following rather than the preceding teaching block. Such a division is also suggested by the repeated refrain, "When Jesus had finished saying [these things]," which Matthew uses to terminate the major divisions of his work (7:28; 11:1; 13:53; 19:1; 26:1).

Some further confirmation of this scheme is perhaps found in the curious fact that some key word or idea near the end of each teaching block sends us back to the Old Testament. Thus the mention of "rock" in 7:24 is reminiscent of the rock theme in the Old Testament wilderness. In addition, the idea of having God's teaching as the foundation for one's life is pervasive in the Mosaic law. The "sword" in 10:34 is reminiscent of the battles of Joshua's conquest. The mention of "treasures" of teaching in 13:52 is reminiscent of the Old Testament meditations on the treasure of wisdom (cf. Prov. 2:4; 8:10-11, 19, 21; 16:16; Job 28). In 18:23 the mention of a king sends us back to the history of Old Testament kingship. Finally, 25:46 ends with a note of final judgment, summing up the prophetic oracles of judgment in the Old Testament.

In addition, the end of each narrative block presents us in each case with some clear-cut linkage with the corresponding Old Testament material. The first narrative block ends with a passage in which Jesus is healing and beginning to call disciples, thus forming the core of a new people of God. This action corresponds to the formation of the people of Israel in Genesis and Exodus. The narrative in 8-9 ends with Jesus' statement about the abundant harvest, which is easy to relate to the expansion and conquest of Joshua. The narrative in 11-12 ends with a statement about Jesus' true brother and sister and mother, reminiscent of the statement in Prov. 7:4 about wisdom as a sister. Chapters 14-17 end with a reference to kingship in v. 25, reminiscent of the theme of kingship in Judges-Kings. Chapters 19-21:22 end with Jesus' prophetic sign of cursing the fig tree, which is reminiscent of Old Testament prophetic symbolic actions.

Not all of these correspondences are equally clear, and one may perhaps doubt whether Matthew planned this whole scheme of correlations. God as the divine author was of course aware of all possible correlations, but are we sure that we know what significance he intended at every point? Some caution is necessary when we are in doubt. But no one would doubt that Matthew is very interested in exploring throughout the Gospel how Jesus fulfills the Old Testament. The fulfillment, as Matthew understands it, is pervasive, but often takes subtle and startlingly transformed shape.

The crucifixion makes the paradoxical character of fulfillment particularly apparent. Let us consider one by one how the various portions of the Old Testament are fulfilled within the Passion narrative.

First, look at the fulfillment of the Books of Moses. Jesus inaugurates a new covenant, parallel to the covenant inaugurated by Moses through the Passover (26:17-29). But he functions at this point not primarily as a new Moses who gives instructions to a whole nation of people, but as the father who presides over an intimate celebration with his family, and even more notably as the lamb who dies for the people. The Last Supper signifies not merely a repetition or equivalent of the Old Testament, but a transition from symbolic, shadowy sacrifice (the lamb) to final, real sacrifice (Jesus). Hence we have a transition also from symbolic deliverance from Egypt to real deliverance from sin (26:28). We enter not into Canaan but into the kingdom of the Father (verse 29).

Second, look at the fulfillment of Joshua's conquest. Jesus pointedly refuses to use the sword (26:51-56). All his "army" deserts (verse 56). But he conquers evil and the Devil by steadfast obedience (verses 36-46). Through his own completed work he opens the door to the new promised land of conquest, namely the whole world (28:18-20).

Jesus is the fulfillment of the wisdom of Old Testament poetry in the very moment when he is treated like a fool (27:42). The multitudes misunderstand and fail to be wise even in their final interpretation of one of his utterances (27:47-49). His own last utterance quotes from the Psalms, one of the poetical books closely associated with wisdom. "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" But what kind of quote is this? On the surface it apparently testifies to lack of understanding, lack of wisdom, as seen in the word "why." Yet by quoting the psalm Jesus also demonstrates his understanding that he is dying as the representative sufferer, the final David. He fulfills the plan of God as prophetically foreshadowed in the psalms.

Next, Jesus is the king. But unlike earthly kings he comes to serve (20:25-28). He is the "King of the Jews," but is called such only in mockery (26:27-31; 27:37). His crown is made of thorns (26:29).

Finally, Jesus dies because he is accused of being a false prophet (26:65, 68). But in the act of dying he fulfills his own prophecies concerning his death (16:21; 20:17-19; 20:28; 21:33-42), as well as the prophecies of the Old Testament (26:31, 54, 56; 27:9-10).

Thus, fulfillment is pervasive in the Gospel of Matthew. But particularly in Jesus' crucifixion, fulfillment takes deep and surprising forms, which only God in his wisdom knew beforehand. God confronts us with the scandal of a crucified redeemer. Jesus was condemned as criminal, blasphemer, and deceiver by all the prestigious people of his day, including those most knowledgeable in the Old Testament. But deeper still, we can detect underneath it all a yet more appalling note: the Scripture testifies that God the Father pronounced his condemnation because he bore our sins (20:28; 26:39; 27:46; cf. Gal. 3:13; 2 Cor. 5:21). Who can fathom such an event?

Only a few days later, this very Jesus, who died an ignominious death, awesomely claims, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me" (28:18). This supreme reversal in position fulfills all the vindicatory events and promises of the Old Testament. What does it mean for Jesus' disciples? The disciples have their loyalty defined simultaneously as loyalty to their Master and obedience to his teaching. In his resurrection, Jesus is the same Master as before, and yet he is transformed in body and exalted in authority. Contemplating the depths of the crucifixion can only increase our conviction of both the continuity and the discontinuity between then and now. In continuity, the same one who died has been vindicated. In discontinuity, the curse of God has been superseded by blessing, the body of dust by the body of heaven.

In my opinion, the same deep continuities and discontinuities must be introduced at least to some degree with regard to Jesus' teaching, because of the close relation between Jesus' person and teaching in the Gospel of Matthew. In the Great Commission Jesus says, ". . . teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you." In this phrase he affirms strongly and clearly a thorough continuity with his previous teaching. At the same time, Jesus' command to go to all nations apparently contradicts his earlier command, "Do not go among the Gentiles or enter any town of the Samaritans. Go rather to the lost sheep of Israel" (10:5-6). Superficial reasoning would say that "everything I have commanded you" clearly includes 10:5-6, and so the disciples are bluntly commanded to do what they must simultaneously teach is forbidden. We cannot say merely that Jesus supersedes the earlier command in 10:5-6. The phrase "everything I have commanded you" affirms and endorses the command at the same moment in which it is supposedly superseded.

Only the structure of fulfillment, I would suggest, is rich enough to encompass this phenomenon in a harmonious unity. "Everything I have commanded you" must not be interpreted as mechanical, unreflective obedience to Jesus' words when taken in the abstract. "Everything" indicates comprehensive obedience; but simultaneously "I have commanded you" indicates the context of personal fellowship and understanding in which true obedience arises and is nourished and directed. Understanding Jesus' commandments, as well as understanding the Old Testament, vitally depends on appreciating that commandments as well as direct prophecies point forward to climactic fulfillment in the cross. Commandments and prophecies alike are to be interpreted as part of a story leading to a climax.

Hence, in particular, the instructions to the disciples in 10:5-6 are not an abstract, universal command for all circumstances. Rather, the restriction to Israel follows naturally from the fact that the coming of the kingdom of God through Jesus and his ministry confronted Israel with a crisis (10:7, 15, 32-42). The abundance of the harvest and the limitations of the workers also called for a limited focus for their ministry (9:35-38). More significant, the disciples are imitators of their Master, who "was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel" (15:24).

But the crucifixion and the resurrection redefine the scope of Jesus' "being sent" and his outreach (28:18, 20). So likewise these events must inevitably redefine the scope of the disciples' being sent. When we understand 10:5-6 in the light of the crisis leading to Jesus' crucifixion, we can properly grasp its purpose and general principle, namely that the disciples are empowered by Jesus to extend his own ministry. They go in his name and with his authority, and must restrict themselves to the task for which Jesus himself is sent. Having understood the verses in this way, we can see that the same command needs fresh embodiment in altered form after Jesus' resurrection. In fact, the command is fulfilled in the Great Commission rather than being contradicted by it.

To put it another way, personal fellowship with Christ means fellowship with the crucified and risen Christ. And those events of crucifixion and resurrection, by their very nature as climactic fulfillment, redetermine the nature of obedience for us now. The whole Old Testament is properly observed by us now, not when we treat it as an abstracted word, dusty legal specifications, or mere ancient history, but as the word that is fulfilled in Christ. His own life, death, and resurrection, as recorded in Matthew, define the sense of fulfillment, and thereby give us guidelines whereby, in continued fellowship with him as our Master, we begin to see what remains the same and what is transformed within the system of revelation foreshadowing him.

In sum, the whole Old Testament--Law, Conquest, Wisdom, History, Latter Prophets--is indirectly prophetic, pointing forward to the definitive fulfillment in Jesus Christ. But fulfillment, when it comes, does not endorse a flat, prosaic, purely unimaginative, and strictly straightforward reading of the Old Testament. Rather, there are unfathomable depths to the wisdom of God. All the wisdom is found in Christ (11:25-30), and his wisdom is truly accessible to those who come to him in humility. But humility begins with acceptance of that final scandal presented by Matthew, the scandal of the cross and the resurrection.

Christocentric interpretation

Let us, then, confront the major question again. Does Old Testament law remain in force now, or is it altered by the coming of Christ? Are the periods of the Old Testament and New Testament continuous with one another, so that the law is the same? Or are they discontinuous, so that the law is altered? Must we choose between affirming continuity or affirming discontinuity?

Simply to assert one side of this polarity is too simple. In the purpose of God, complexities and difficulties have been woven into Scripture itself, and we will never succeed in evading them as long as we are in this world. But these complexities are a sign of the richness of God's revelation. No hermeneutical trick will magically dissolve them, nor should we want it to.

For example, some people might suppose from a superficial reading of Matthew that Matthew asserts almost pure continuity of the law, and enjoins us merely to keep the same old law in the same form as always, only now empowered with the presence of Christ. In fact, however, the coming of Christ is the coming of the kingdom of God, the climactic fulfillment of all to which the Old Testament pointed. Reality supersedes shadows. Hence radical transformation of the law is included.

Conversely, some people might suppose from a superficial reading of Paul that Paul primarily asserts only discontinuity in the law. The law is dead and gone, not to be obeyed, virtually irrelevant for Christian living (cf. Eph. 2:15; Rom. 7:1-6; Gal. 2:19). But Paul too sees the law as comprehensively fulfilled in Christ (Rom. 15:4-6; 1 Cor. 10:1-13; cf. Rom. 8:4; 13:10-14). When understood properly it is a most impressive means of communion with Christ (2 Cor. 3:15-18).

The apparent differences between Matthew and Paul arise largely from the differences between their immediate concerns and goals. Paul asserts the abolition of the law loud and clear, lest anyone miss it and destroy the unity of Jews and Gentiles as free people in Christ. Matthew asserts the continuation of the law loud and clear, lest anyone miss it and think that Jesus is not the true Jewish Messiah. But at a deep level they agree. Matthew's assertions are qualified by the idea of fulfillment, which involves radical transformation through Christ's crucifixion and resurrection. Paul's denials are qualified by his vigorous affirmations concerning the character of the law: it is God's prophetic revelation looking forward to Christ and still now revealing him in his righteousness and mercy. The law is abolished in the sense that the fulness has come and the temporary has come to an end. The law continues in the sense that seen in the light of Christ, it still speaks his word to us. In short, we may speak either of abolition or of continuation, as we wish, provided we understand the depths and richnesses involved in what we should affirm in a total picture.

Suppose that we primarily notice in the law its temporal symbolic functions, its curse, and its focus on the structure of Israel. We see its inferiority in form to the "writing of the law on the heart" through the Holy Spirit (2 Cor. 3:3-11). We may say that it is abolished. But then we must qualify that assertion by observing that its revelation of God continues to function in illumining the meaning of the righteousness of Christ and final work of Christ. Conversely, suppose that we view the law as an articulation of principles of righteousness, and through Spirit-enlivened interpretation we see its pervasively Christological character. We may say that it continues to bind us, not when misinterpreted as a dead letter, but specifically in its character as revelation of Christ our Lord. But then we must qualify by observing that it reveals Christ by proclaiming the preliminary and insufficient character of the institutions and acts of salvation before his coming.

We might attempt to resolve this complexity by saying that the Ten Commandments, as an expression of the moral law, continue in force, while the rest is abolished.3 Such a formula has a great deal of truth, when treated as a first approximation. As a rule of thumb, it can serve new Christians well. The Ten Commandments do play a strikingly central role in Mosaic revelation, and do articulate permanent moral principles. But under close scrutiny this formula reveals insufficiencies. A neat, pure separation between moral and ceremonial is not to be found in Matthew as a whole or in Matt. 5:17-20 in particular.

Moreover, no simple and easy separation between types of law will do justice to the richness of Mosaic revelation. As we have observed (chapter 8), obviously moral principles are articulated outside the Ten Commandments (Lev. 19:18), while conversely some of the Ten Commandments contain at least minor "ceremonial" or "culturally specific" elements connected with the specific situation of the Israelites. The focus and implications of the Ten Commandments are mostly fully and properly understood only when we read them in the context of the more specific laws elsewhere, and then the ceremonial element can be separated less than ever. In the context of the Books of Moses, the Ten Commandments, the other laws, the priestly institutions, and the events of the exodus and wilderness wandering necessarily interpret one another. And all of these must now be interpreted in the light of their fulfillment in Christ. The entirety of this Mosaic revelation simultaneously articulates general moral principles and symbolic particulars: it points forward to Christ as the final and permanent expression of righteousness and penal substitution (with moral overtones), but is itself in that very respect a shadow (with ceremonial overtones).

In one sense, recognizing the complexities is already part of the solution. It is part of growing in understanding what the Bible really says, as opposed to what we might imagine it to say. Moreover, in the light of our reflections on Matthew we can formulate hermeneutical strategy in a more positive way. Our interpretation of the Old Testament and the New is to be Christocentric, as Matthew itself is Christocentric. That is, we are to understand that the purposes and will of God as revealed in the whole Bible come to focus in the person of Christ and in his triumphant accomplishment of salvation in the crucifixion and resurrection.

The same lesson is conveyed by other New Testament writers as well. Luke records a post-resurrection meeting of Jesus with his disciples, in which he sums up his previous teaching:

"This is what I told you while I was still with you: Everything must be fulfilled that is written about me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms."

Then he opened their minds so they could understand the Scriptures. He told them, "This is what is written: The Christ will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, and repentance and forgiveness of sins will be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem." (24:44-47)

Understanding "the Scriptures"--the comprehensive term for the whole Old Testament--centers on seeing their relation to the events of Christ's life (see the further discussion in chapter 1).

Similarly, Paul says that "no matter how many promises God has made, they are `Yes' in Christ" (2 Cor. 1:20). Hebrews speaks of climactic revelation in Christ by saying,

In the past God spoke to our forefathers through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom he made the universe." (Heb. 1:1-2).

The author also goes on to show in some detail the relation of Christ to the Old Testament priesthood and practices of holiness.

The Book of Revelation is a veritable mosaic of Old Testament allusions, all centered on the revelation of God and of Christ. The Gospel of John contains fascinating allusions to Old Testament feasts and symbols, all finding their fulfillment in Christ.

To be Christ-centered in interpretation is not, however, to be Christomonistic. Not only in Revelation but in Paul, in John, and in Matthew the central work of salvation in Christ's life is the work of the Trinitarian God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. The revelation of God through Christ is a revelation of the full Godhead (Rev. 4:1-5:6; 1:4-5; Rom. 8:11; John 14:10; 16:14-15; Matt. 3:16-17; 26:39-42; etc.). Moreover, Christ has become our Redeemer and Recreator because from all eternity and prior to his Incarnation he is already the Creator (Col. 1:15-20). We therefore repudiate the collapse of distinctions found in Barthian theology.

To read the Old Testament Christocentrically need not mean collapsing creation into redemption or suppressing the revelation of God the Father in the Old Testament. Rather, it means appreciating the Old Testament for what it is in the design of God: a witness, foreshadowing, anticipation, and promise of salvation as it has now been accomplished by the Triune work of God in Jesus Christ Incarnate. So to read the Old Testament means that we do not hastily attempt to read off of the surface of its text immediate moral applications, either in the area of personal morality or in the area of political and social morality. The Old Testament does yield such applications, but does so in God's chosen way, not ours. Namely, it reveals and is fulfilled in Christ, who is the fullness of the Deity (Col. 2:9), the sum of wisdom (Col. 2:3), and therefore also the comprehensive source and standard for practical righteousness both personal and social.

Such a Christocentric approach, though it may require patience on the part of moral activists, commends itself in several ways as superior to an approach defined primarily in terms of continuity or discontinuity.

1. Christ's climactic salvation includes within itself continuity and discontinuity in harmony. The faithfulness of the person of Christ, who is the one way of salvation, guarantees continuity (Heb. 13:8); the transition from wrath to grace by his death in history guarantees discontinuity (Heb. 9:26-28). Thus a focus on Christ moves us beyond an abstract dialectical movement between continuity and discontinuity.

2. Christ's work defines the true nature of continuity and discontinuity between Old and New Testament situations. Thus it provides a hermeneutical center-point for sifting claims about Old Testament application.

3. Christocentric interpretation demonstrably corresponds to the true nature of the Old Testament and God's design for its present-day use. It thus does not run such a risk of immediately falsifying the texture of the Old Testament by means of a biased framework or a selective set of questions. Of course, there is no way to avoid in principle the effects of sin on interpretation. Our own feeble conceptions of Christ and of his relation to the Old Testament must themselves be subject to criticism and modification in accordance with the Bible.

4. The New Testament documents endorse Christocentric understanding of the Old Testament, as we have seen in some detail from the Gospel of Matthew. Christ-centered fulfillment, and not a principle of continuity or discontinuity as such, is the sustained theme of the New Testament, and we would be wise to follow its lead.

5. As all evangelicals admit, union and communion with Christ is the only valid source of sanctification and power for godly living. We shall not properly bring society under the rule of Christ unless we keep our grips on the way of salvation.

6. With respect to issues of public justice, our resting point must be found in our assurance that Christ is the majestic judge of the universe (Rev. 1:12-20). In the day of his coming, "in righteousness he judges and makes war" (Rev. 19:11). All must stand before him (2 Cor. 5:10). As we are progressively conformed to him and have "the mind of Christ" (2 Cor. 3:18; 1 Cor. 2:16), we will have a proper sense of indignation at injustice. At the same time, our zeal will be moderated by Christ's patience. No one will escape his justice, and so we can face patiently the fact that injustices are not always redressed in this life, and that political evils are often slow in being rectified.

Footnotes

1. Bahnsen, Theonomy, pp. 84-85. To be fair to Bahnsen, one should note that he elsewhere introduces complex qualifications to his key chapter title, "the abiding validity of the law in exhaustive detail." But his qualifications create tension with his exegesis of Matthew. In his exegesis, the interpretation of "fulfill" as "confirm" and the strong affirmations concerning "jot and tittle" appear to leave no room for any qualifications whatsoever.

2. See also France, Matthew, pp. 18-19, 50-56.

3. So Patrick Fairbairn, The Typology of Scripture (reprint; Grand Rapids: Baker, 1975), 3:175, who represents many others. Fairbairn introduces noteworthy qualifications on the role of the law because of the prominence given to the Spirit in the New Testament (3:164-75). But even these qualifications do not quite free him from the problems arising from a too-sharp initial dichotomy.