A Biblical View of Covenants Old and New

Introduction

A recent issue of this journal featured an article by Adam Gregerman outlining developments in Catholic theology vis-à-vis Judaism. ¹ Drawing on Vatican documents published by the Commission of the Holy See for Religious Relations with the Jews (CRRJ) and on the writings of Cardinal Walter Kasper, who headed the CRRJ from 2001 to 2010, Gregerman shows that the Catholic Church has continued the trajectory set by Nostra Aetate (1965), which moved Church teaching away from a supersessionistic model to a more nuanced view of the relationship between Judaism and Christianity. While lauding this achievement, he also identifies theological tensions that remain in this post-conciliar period of Jewish–Catholic relations.

Gregerman focuses, in particular, on the theme of covenant, as discussed by Kasper and the CRRJ, and highlights two key developments. The first is the shift away from casting the “Old Covenant” (i.e., Sinaitic covenant) and the New Covenant of Jesus as opposites. Whereas pre-Nostra Aetate discussion of covenant viewed the former in negative terms and the latter in positive, post-Nostra Aetate theology has avoided setting the two in stark opposition. ² Instead, Kasper and others have viewed the two covenants in comparative terms: the Old Covenant is enduring but limited, while the New Covenant is eternal and universal. Second, these Catholic theologians have eschewed the language of “replacement” in favor of “fulfillment.” This approach is a welcome development insofar as it recognizes continuity between the two covenants and avoids supersessionism. As Gregerman shows, however, the comparative model introduces a new tension. According to this model, the Old Covenant, though still holy and valid, is inferior to the New one; the fulfillment of the former by the latter exposes the shortcomings of the Old Covenant and the superiority of the New Covenant. ³

The point of Gregerman’s article, as he notes several times, is not to critique this theological development in Jewish–Catholic discourse but rather to trace its articulation in various statements and to identify its theological consequences. ⁴ At the end he invites others to join the conversation he has started with their critical assessment of the comparative model he has described. This article offers such an assessment from a biblical perspective. Since the primary sources for our understanding of the Old and New Covenants are biblical texts, a closer look at these texts and at the concept of covenant in general can yield valuable insights into the topic.

In this article I will argue three main points: (1) Recent discussion of covenants sometimes presumes their linear progression, but Scripture presents a multiplicity of covenants (rather than a singular “Old Covenant”), which do not proceed linearly but coexist together in complementary ways; (2) this multiplicity also produces dynamic tension among the covenants; and (3) the tendency in recent theological discussion to describe the New Covenant as a fulfillment of its predecessors lacks a biblical basis. It is not biblical covenants that are fulfilled but their promises, and this small shift in language can help avoid the superiority complex identified by Gregerman and recognize the shared hope of Jews and Christians for the ultimate fulfillment of God’s covenantal promises.

Thus, my article is primarily a presentation of what the Bible has to say about covenants, though I should note another perspective driving this article. That is my own perspective, as a Roman Catholic professor of Hebrew Bible who is committed to bringing its witness of God’s mercy and faithfulness to bear on Christian theology—first, as a theological testimony in its own right, and secondarily, as a prelude to the divine love revealed in Jesus Christ. By exploring the multidimensionality of the Hebrew Bible’s covenant tradition, I hope to show that the tradition offers an opportunity for rich theological reflection and that the development of this tradition in the New Testament need not minimize its complexity. By examining and articulating the ways the multiple covenants in the Hebrew Bible relate to one another, we can recognize the complementarity and dynamic tension among them and, I hope, appreciate anew the indispensability of the Hebrew Bible as a theological interlocutor.

Covenants Are Complementary

I would like to begin my discussion of biblical covenants and their significance for understanding the relationship between the Old and New Covenants with a point Gregerman makes at the end of his article. There he identifies complementarity as a fruitful approach for articulating the relationship between the Old and New Covenants and cites Pope Francis’s use of the term in Evangelii Gaudium to describe the Church’s relation to Judaism: “there exists as well a rich complementarity which allows us to read the texts of the Hebrew Scriptures together and to help one another to mine the riches of God’s word.” ⁵ The advantage of this approach, according to Gregerman, is that it “gives no indication of superiority or inferiority … the two covenants share and serve the same goal.” ⁶ By prescinding from the language of comparison, a view of the covenants as complementary allows for multiple covenants to offer their distinctive witness of God’s promise and fidelity.

Another advantage of complementarity is its congruity with biblical depictions of covenants. Although we use “Old Covenant” as shorthand for the covenantal tradition of the Hebrew Bible, especially the Sinaitic covenant, in fact the biblical narrative includes multiple covenants, whose diverse features are not easily harmonized into a single exemplar. ⁷ The first is God’s covenant with Noah, his descendants, and all living creatures of the ark—indeed with the entire earth (Gen 9:8–17). In this universal covenant, God promises not to destroy the earth again; although there are no explicit obligations on humans, there is an expectation that they will respond to this grace by mitigating their violent ways (cf. 9:1–6).

A few chapters later YHWH chooses Abraham and Sarah for a special relationship (Gen 15, 17). Though narrower in scope, the Abrahamic covenant maintains the universal horizon established by the Noahide covenant. Abraham’s family will play a unique role in the divine plan, but their election takes place against the backdrop of God’s desire to bring blessings to all the families of the earth (cf. 12:3). Moreover, this relationship continues the Noahide covenant’s emphasis on God’s action on behalf of human partners. The covenant is not exactly unconditional, as it is sometimes characterized, since God does command Abraham to “walk before me and be blameless,” that is, show total loyalty to God (17:1; cf. 6:9), and insists on circumcision as an outward sign of the covenant (17:9–14), but overall the narrative focuses on God’s promises to Abraham, Sarah, and their descendants.

The Sinaitic covenant (Exod 19–24), which YHWH makes with Abraham’s descendants, maintains the particularity of their ancestor’s covenant but introduces an important change. YHWH still guarantees prosperity for his covenant partner, expressed here as steadfast love (Heb. ḥesed), but now names the particular ways that he expects Israel to reciprocate that loyalty. Unlike the Noahide and Abrahamic covenants, which featured no specific obligations, the Sinaitic covenant sets forth in the Ten Commandments and subsequent laws the precise parameters of the covenantal relationship between God and Israel.

The Deuteronomic covenant may be said to include the entire book of Deuteronomy, which is presented in the biblical narrative as a series of farewell speeches by Moses. In many ways, this covenant is a reprise of the Sinaitic covenant. Both are conditional covenants mediated by Moses, and many of the laws from Sinai are repeated in Deuteronomy, most notably the Ten Commandments in Deuteronomy 5:6–21. A closer look at Deuteronomy, however, shows that its laws represent a profound transformation of earlier legal traditions. Nowhere is this differentiation clearer than in 28:69 (29:1), which introduces Moses’s third speech in this way: “These are the words of the covenant that YHWH commanded Moses to make with the Israelites in the land of Moab, in addition to the covenant he made with them at Horeb.” Thus, the Deuteronomic covenant is a mix of continuity and innovation. It clearly depends on the Sinaitic covenant but is hardly a simple reproduction of it. On all sorts of matters from cult centralization (Deut 12:13–19, 20–28; cf. Exod 20:24) to the festival calendar (Deut 16:1–17; cf. Exod 13:2–10, 21–27; 23:16, 18), the authors of Deuteronomy reformulated the covenantal traditions they had received. ⁸

As a last example, we may look ahead to YHWH’s covenant with David, which, like the Sinaitic covenant, is based on divine ḥesed (2 Sam 7:15). ⁹ Unlike that covenant, however, and more like the Noahide and Abrahamic covenants, YHWH’s special relationship with the house of David emphasizes God’s promise to the king and his house. Certainly, YHWH expects fidelity and will redress wrongdoing, but no transgression by David’s descendants will nullify the steadfast love YHWH has promised to his royal house (7:14–15). Another similarity between the covenants with Abraham and David is their role as both covenant partner and mediator. Whereas Noah and Moses mediate a covenant with a larger group of which they are a member, Abraham and David are themselves the partners of the covenants they receive from YHWH. Of course, each receives his covenant on behalf of Israel, and in this sense, they mediate the covenant for a larger group. But their status and mediations differ slightly from those of Noah and Moses.

This brief survey of major covenants in the Hebrew Bible has demonstrated the diversity of their scope and terms. Of course, there are commonalities among them, for example, the sign motif of the Noahide, Abrahamic, and Sinaitic covenants (Gen 9:12; 17:11; Exod 31:16–17), and the importance of the divine ḥesed, which is the basis of the Sinaitic (Exod 20:6; 34:6–7) and Davidic (2 Sam 7:15) covenants. Along with these similarities, however, are significant differences, which make it impossible to synthesize them into a singular “Old Covenant.” Such diversity, on the one hand, poses a challenge for interpreters, who must hold the various covenants in tension with each other, but on the other hand, it offers a great advantage for developing a theology of covenant. These examples show that, far from being one-size-fits-all, covenants are contextual. As the biblical narrative unfolds and God’s people encounter new circumstances, God is willing and able to find new ways to be in relationship with them. What worked after the flood cannot be cut-and-pasted onto the tablets of Moses, and the beginning of kingship likewise calls for a new kind of covenant. Diversity among biblical covenants is a good thing because it shows that while God remains constant in fidelity, justice, and mercy, God is also responsive to the changing needs of God’s people.

Nowhere is this divine responsiveness more necessary and apparent than in the wake of the Babylonian Exile (597–539 BCE). ¹⁰ Recognizing the deleterious effects of this disaster on Israel’s institutional leadership, God’s prophets announce profound revisions to past covenants. In Jeremiah 31:31–34, for example, God proclaims a “new covenant,” whose law will be written on individual hearts rather than on stone tablets, and in (Second) Isaiah 55:3, God declares, “I will make with you [pl.] an everlasting covenant [bĕrît ‘ôlām], the steadfast love [Heb. ḥesed] promised to David.” The transformation in both of these texts involves the transfer of covenantal promises and responsibility to the people themselves. In the absence of leaders to teach the laws of Sinai, God makes the law known to individual Israelites, and lacking a viable king to mediate the divine promises to David, God extends those promises directly to those who will return from exile. The divine commitment to relationship and the expectation of the people’s reciprocal fidelity remain the same, but the contours of the covenants have been adapted to new circumstances. As with the Deuteronomic covenant, this balance of continuity and innovation shows that the renewal of a covenant necessarily involves its recontextualization.

This survey has demonstrated a plurality of biblical covenants that are not easily harmonized. Such diversity calls into question the claim that the “Old Covenant” and the New Covenant are expressions of a single covenant. ¹¹ It is better, in my opinion, to think of them as manifestations of one relationship, since what is constant throughout them is the relationship between God and God’s creation: “I will be your [their] God, and you [they] will be my people” (Exod 6:7; 19:5; Lev 26:12; 2 Sam 7:14, 24; Jer 7:23; 11:4; 24:7; 30:22; 31:1, 33; 32:38; Ezek 11:20; 14:11; 34:30; 36:28; 37:23; Zech 8:8; 13:9). A covenant is simply an instrument that mediates this relationship (or relationships between two humans; cf. Gen 21:27; 26:28; 31:44), and multiple covenants are simply different expressions of the relationship. ¹² To recognize them as such is not to call into question the unity of God’s plan of salvation but to honor the diverse ways God is able to work out that plan. No single covenant captures the myriad ways God can be in relationship with the world; each reveals a distinctive facet of God’s steadfast love for creation, especially humanity, especially Israel. We need the unique witness of each covenant to open us to the range and adaptability of God’s ḥesed. After all, it is this adaptability that inspires hope that God will respond to our prayers and to the needs of our generation.

Covenants Stand in Tension with Each Other

The previous section has shown that the complementarity of covenants within the Hebrew Bible provides strong biblical support for the post-Nostra Aetate view of the enduring validity of the “Old Covenant.” Whenever a new covenant is established, it does not replace its predecessors but takes its place alongside them. For evidence of the endurance of older covenants, even as new ones are established, we need look no further than the persistence of covenantal signs. The rainbow of the Noahide covenant (Gen 9:12) did not disappear after the Abrahamic covenant, and circumcision (Gen 17:11) is not outmoded by the Sabbath (Exod 31:16–17). These signs endure, as do the covenants they signify. So also the New Covenant of Jesus does not replace or nullify earlier covenants but joins them as a new—and for Christians, definitive—way that God has entered into relationship with God’s people.

The question is whether this complementarity can be expressed without the superiority that Gregerman has identified. In my opinion, the answer is Yes, but to do so requires a more nuanced reading of biblical covenants than has been undertaken in recent theological discussion of them. A closer look at these covenants shows that new covenants neither replace their predecessors nor are superior to them. What we find instead is dynamic tension among the covenants of the Hebrew Bible. An appreciation of this tension, which is the inevitable result of the covenants’ plurality and diversity, moves us away from the implied superiority of later covenants. This recognition is instructive for understanding the relationship between the New Covenant of Jesus and its biblical predecessors.

Catholic theology has often recognized the presence and value of tension between Judaism and Christianity, especially when it comes to each tradition’s approach to the Bible. In The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church (1993), for example, the Pontifical Biblical Commission wrote,

[W]ithin the New Testament, as already within the Old, one can see the juxtaposing of different perspectives that sometimes sit in tension with one another … One of the characteristics of the Bible is precisely the absence of a sense of systemization and the presence, on the contrary, of things held in dynamic tension … Granted that tensions can exist in the relationship between various texts of sacred Scripture, interpretation must necessarily show a certain pluralism. No single interpretation can exhaust the meaning of the whole, which is a symphony of many voices. Thus the interpretation of one particular text has to avoid seeking to dominate at the expense of others. (III.A.2–3)

Similarly, the CRRJ’s 2015 document on the fiftieth anniversary of Nostra Aetate remarked, “The common patrimony of the Old Testament not only formed the basis of a spiritual kinship between Jews and Christians but also brought with it a basic tension in the relationship of the two faith communities.” ¹³ Lastly, I would note the remark by Kasper in a 2004 speech that “the biblical testimony is multi-layered and proves resistant to a systematic standardization.” ¹⁴ Rather than trying to harmonize the diversity of biblical perspectives, these statements recognize their irreducibility and the inevitable tensions that arise from such diversity.

This view could well be applied to the covenantal tradition of the Hebrew Bible, but what we find instead in recent theological discussion of covenants is a tendency to overlook the tensions among them and instead portray them as linear and progressive. Consider, for example, the following statements by Kasper:

In this sense, the Covenant has a concrete historical dimension: the people of Israel as a concrete historical feature. But, since this people lives in history and moves across history, we constantly find new covenants … The theology of the Covenant is not static either; what the Covenant is and what it means must be reinterpreted anew in each generation. This is why there are different theologies of the Covenant, especially the deuteronomic, the priestly, the prophetic. Tradition and interpretation belong together. [2001] ¹⁵

The covenants do not stand in isolation, without any connection to one another. Each new covenant that is concluded refers back to the preceding one and restates it in current terms. Thus tradition and interpretation are in each instance interconnected. [2004] ¹⁶

The whole history of God with his people takes place in a sequence of various covenants with Abraham, Moses, Joshua, Ezra; in the end, the prophet Jeremiah promises a new covenant (Jeremiah 31:31). Each of these covenants takes up the previous covenant and at the same time reinterprets it anew. Thus the New Covenant is the final reinterpretation promised by the prophets of the Old Covenant. [2011] ¹⁷

A variation of language from these quotes later appeared in the CRRJ’s 2015 statement, Gifts: ¹⁸

For the Christian faith it is axiomatic that there can only be one single covenant history of God with humanity … Each of these covenants incorporates the previous covenant and interprets it in a new way. That is also true for the New Covenant which for Christians is the final eternal covenant and therefore the definitive interpretation of what was promised by the prophets of the Old Covenant . . . ¹⁹

These statements rightly recognize the plurality of the Hebrew Bible’s covenantal tradition, their connection to each other, and their correspondence to particular moments in Israel’s history, but the statements’ view of covenants as progressing in a linear sequence is problematic. Not only does such a view downplay the tensions between the various biblical covenants, it also implies an evolutionary development, which leads to the superiority identified by Gregerman.

What we find in the Hebrew Bible, however, is not an evolution of covenants but an array of them standing in tension with each other. ²⁰ These tensions emerge when past covenants are reinterpreted for a new generation. For example, both the Deuteronomic covenant and the “new covenant” in Jeremiah 31:31–34 represent reformulations of the Sinaitic covenant, and Isaiah 55:3 reinterprets the Davidic covenant. All three are clear examples of a new covenant “incorporat[ing] the previous covenant and interpret[ing] it in a new way” (to quote again from the CRRJ’s 2015 Gifts), but as we noted above, each reformulation is a mix of continuities and innovations, which are not easily harmonized. With Deuteronomy and Jeremiah 31 there is the added challenge that they are reinterpretations of the same earlier covenant; they do not fall into a straightforward sequence but take the Sinaitic covenant in somewhat different directions. ²¹ Thus, the description by Kasper and the CRRJ of covenants as sequential and interpretive applies to some biblical examples, but even these examples demonstrate the dialectic tension that lies at the heart of the covenantal tradition of the Hebrew Bible.

This characteristic is even more apparent when comparing covenants that are not interpretations of earlier ones but truly new covenants in their own right. Having already discussed the diversity of these covenants in the preceding section, I will focus here on two examples of dynamic tension among them: first, between the Noahide and Abrahamic covenants, and second, between the Sinaitic and Davidic covenants. In my opinion, these two pairs exemplify the tension and complementarity that characterize biblical covenants and which should inform our view of the New Covenant of Jesus.

The tension in the first example arises from the universality of the Noahide covenant and the particularity of the Abrahamic covenant. As noted above, the former is established not only with Noah and his descendants but also with “every living creature,” as the narrative mentions five times (Gen 9:10, 12, 15, 16, 17), and even with the earth itself (9:13). It is also noteworthy that the Noahide covenant is “for all future generations” (Heb. lĕdōrôt ‘ôlām; 9:12); it is an “everlasting covenant” (Heb. bĕrît ‘ôlām; 9:16). Thus, the Bible’s covenantal tradition begins with one that encompasses all of creation for all time. ²²

When the Abrahamic covenant is established a few chapters later, it is not a reinterpretation of the Noahide covenant but a new one that differs from its predecessor in fundamental ways. Although Abraham’s covenant takes place against the backdrop of the divine blessings he will mediate for all the families of the earth (Gen 12:3), the covenant itself is much narrower than the Noahide. It is an everlasting covenant (again bĕrît ‘ôlām) made with Abraham and his descendants in particular (15:18; 17:2, 4, 7–10). Another difference is the shift in the meaning of the covenant’s sign. Whereas the rainbow is a natural phenomenon that serves as a reminder to God of God’s promise to never again destroy the earth’s living creatures with a flood (9:13–16), circumcision is a ritual act used to signify membership within the covenantal community (17:11–14; cf. Exod 12:48). As noted above, both covenants involve mutual loyalty, while accenting God’s promises, but there is a subtle shift in their accompanying signs from a memorandum of divine responsibility to a symbol of human belonging.

The relationship between the Noahide and Abrahamic covenants is one of dialectic tension. They are narratively sequential, but the latter cannot be said to build on, improve on, reinterpret, modulate, update, or fulfill the former. Each is a bĕrît ‘ôlām, an everlasting covenant, so that whatever tensions lie between them do so in perpetuity. Although we noted some slight differences in human participation in the two covenants, the principal tension between them is the scope; one is universal, and the other particular.

This tension, however, is hardly a problem but an asset because it creates a balance between God’s care for all creation and God’s special relationship with Israel. The complementarity of the covenants is expressed well by Jon D. Levenson:

The relatedness of the members of the human family to each other and to God is underscored and formalized in the announcement of an eternal covenant with Noah in Gen. 9:1–17. Underlying this covenant is a theology that places all peoples in a relationship of grace and accountability with God. The subsequent establishment of covenants with all Abrahamites (Genesis 17) and with all Israelites (Exodus 24) is to be read against the background of this universal covenant. Israel’s relationship with God is thus both unique and universal: no other people has it, yet all humanity has something of the same order. ²³

One covenant without the other would lack this dynamic tension. Together their distinctive articulations of the divine relationship with creation reveal a God who is not constrained to one mode of relationship but makes Godself known to different peoples in different ways. ²⁴

Moving to the Deuteronomic and Davidic covenants, we can note a tension in the different ways that they use filial language. On the one hand, the book of Deuteronomy identifies Israel as the sons and daughters of their God: “You [pl.] are children of YHWH your God” (14:1; cf. 32:5–6, 18–20). This collective filiation is familiar from other biblical texts which likewise depict Israel as YHWH’s (firstborn) child (e.g., Exod 4:22; Jer 31:9; Hos 11:1; Mal 1:6). On the other hand, 2 Samuel 7 designates King David as YHWH’s son: “I will be a father to him, and he shall be a son to me” (v. 14; cf. Ps 89:27–30). Of course, this royal sonship is meant to mediate YHWH’s relationship with the people as a whole, as David himself notes in his prayer a few verses later (v. 24). Still, it is a significant difference from the collective meaning found in Deuteronomy (and elsewhere).

Moreover, this difference is more than the introduction of the king as a mediator of covenantal relationship. The distinct Near Eastern backgrounds of the Deuteronomic and Davidic covenants suggest a further contrast in their use of filial language. Some (but not all) instances of filial language in the Deuteronomic covenant were drawn from non-parity treaties, in which the father–son relationship symbolized the authority of the suzerain and the subservience of the vassal. ²⁵ Indeed, father/son and overlord/slave are sometimes interchangeable in these treaties. By contrast, the filial language in 2 Samuel 7 is based on adoption formulas in ancient Near Eastern law. ²⁶ According to this background, the filial language of the Davidic covenant does not denote the subservience of the “son” but his elevation to kinship with the “father” and his entitlement to an eternal inheritance.

Thus, ancient Near Eastern texts underline a difference already apparent in relevant biblical texts. The Deuteronomic and Davidic covenants conceptualize filiation in different ways, but as with the Noahide and Abrahamic covenants, the resulting tension from this difference should be seen as a benefit rather than a problem. The advantage of these distinct conceptions of filiation is that only together do they capture an essential feature of biblical anthropology and leadership. Unlike modern Western conceptions of the self as autonomous and self-sufficient, ancient Israelites were “embedded in the family and enmeshed in obligations of kinship extending even beyond the father’s household.” ²⁷ Such embeddedness defines the Israelite household and also informs our understanding of leadership in the Hebrew Bible. Biblical leaders, such as Moses, David, and the servant in Second Isaiah, are never depicted as lone rangers; rather, they are empowered by God on behalf of their community. ²⁸ This mutuality might be missed if we only had the collective filiation of the Deuteronomic covenant or only the individual sonship of the Davidic covenant. By observing the two covenants together we can appreciate the dynamic tension produced by the distinct ways they conceive of God as a divine parent.

This comparison of the various covenants of the Hebrew Bible has shown that they do not proceed in a linear sequence and that later covenants are not presented as superior to their predecessors. What we find instead among these covenants is dynamic tension. Sometimes this tension arises from the mix of continuity and innovation in a later covenant’s reinterpretation of an earlier one, and other times it arises from the diverse ways that the covenants articulate God’s relationship with creation, humanity, and Israel. These tensions are not easily resolved, but I have tried to show that such resolution may not be necessary or even desirable. As our closer look at two features in two pairs of covenants demonstrates, dynamic tension may be the best way to express the complexity of the covenantal tradition. Not all differences align; some pull in separate directions. We need room in our exegesis and theology for the various trajectories of biblical covenants because their multiplicity and diversity can expand our view of what it means to be in relationship with God.

In this section we have looked only at covenants in the Hebrew Bible, but the insights from this analysis can be instructive for how we understand the New Covenant of Jesus. Recent Catholic writings on Judaism have tended to see covenants, including that of Jesus, “in a fundamental progressive continuity.” ²⁹ Although these writings rightly eschew replacement theories of covenant, their rubric of progression implies an evolution of covenants, which inevitably leads to the superiority identified by Gregerman. Our examination of biblical covenants vitiates this rubric because it shows that they do not proceed in a linear progression but are established alongside earlier covenants as their complements. According to this model, the New Covenant of Jesus is not the last in a sequential line of covenants but an addition to a diverse assemblage of them, each one meeting the needs of its moment in salvation history and enduring beyond that moment. A distinctive feature of Jesus’s covenant is its eschatological horizon. Like all covenants, it is historically situated, but the words of Jesus at its institution make clear that it serves an eschatological purpose, namely the kingdom of God (Mark 14:24–25; Matt 26:28–29). ³⁰ We have seen that other covenants are everlasting and rooted in divine sovereignty, but Jesus’s covenant is distinct for its identification of this eschatological kingdom as both its occasion and its final destiny. For Christians it is ultimate not because it perfects its predecessors but because we believe there will be no future circumstances for which this covenant will not be sufficient.

The covenants of the Hebrew Bible are instructive also for the way they provide a framework for the New Covenant of Jesus to complement its predecessors and also be in tension with them. If complementarity and tension are how earlier covenants relate to each other, we may expect the same from Jesus’s covenant. Perhaps the best evidence for these features is the variety of predecessors invoked by New Testament authors. According to the Synoptic Gospels (Mark 14:24; Matt 26:28; Luke 22:20), Jesus’s covenant is a renewal of the Sinaitic covenant, since his words at the Last Supper allude to Exodus 24:8. ³¹ In Acts, however, the only covenant mentioned by Peter (3:25) and Stephen (7:8) in their recitations of salvation history is that of Abraham. Paul’s letters take yet another approach by drawing a contrast between pairs of earlier covenants. Thus, Galatians 3–4 contrasts the Abrahamic and Sinaitic covenants, but 2 Corinthians 3 sets the tablets of the Sinaitic covenant in opposition with the inscribed hearts of Jeremiah (31:33) and Ezekiel’s hearts of flesh (36:26–27). ³² Finally, Hebrews discusses at length both the Sinaitic covenant and Jeremiah 31 (8:6–10; 9:15–22; 10:16; 12:24; 13:20) and uniquely presents the priesthood and sacrifice of Jesus as defining features of his new covenant (7:20–22). ³³

The point of this brief survey of New Testament texts is to show that their depictions of the New Covenant of Jesus parallel the diversity and tension of the covenantal tradition of the Hebrew Bible. Although we rightly refer to Jesus’s covenant in the singular, the varied approaches of New Testament authors invite us to appreciate the multifaceted complexity of Jesus’s covenant. Its greatest affinity is with Jeremiah 31 and its rereading of the Sinaitic covenant, but the New Testament writers did not limit themselves to Jeremiah’s new covenant. This engagement with multiple covenants shows that complementarity and dynamic tension are also features of the New Covenant of Jesus, both in relation to its predecessors and within New Testament accounts of Jesus’s covenants. This section began with quotations identifying “tension” as an apt term for defining the relationship between Judaism and Christianity, but this attribute has not always been applied to biblical covenants. According to our analysis, it is precisely because dynamic tension is a key feature of covenants that it is a fitting description of the relationship between Judaism and Christianity more generally. ³⁴

Covenants Are Not Fulfilled

In addition to providing evidence for complementarity and tension as defining characteristics of covenants, an examination of the biblical evidence also calls into question the use of the term “fulfillment” to describe the relationship between the “Old Covenant” and the New Covenant of Jesus. The following quotes offer a sampling of the term’s usage:

the canticle of Zechariah (Lk 1:72) proclaims the fulfilment of the covenant-promise given by God to Abraham for his descendants ³⁵

Hebrews quotes in extenso the prophetic message of the “new covenant” and proclaims its fulfilment in Christ “mediator of the new covenant” ³⁶

The New Covenant does not revoke the earlier covenants, but it brings them to fulfilment ³⁷

the New Covenant which Christians believe in can only be understood as the affirmation and fulfilment of the Old ³⁸

The New Covenant for Christians is not the replacement (substitution), but the fulfillment of the Old Covenant. Both stand with each other in a relationship of promise or anticipation and fulfillment ³⁹

The prevalence of “fulfillment” within post-Nostra Aetate discussion of Judaism has been documented by Gregerman and others, who highlight the term as both vague and problematic. ⁴⁰ My aim is not to repeat the points made by these scholars but instead to offer an additional critique from a biblical perspective. Simply put, covenants—those in the Hebrew Bible and the New Covenant of Jesus—are not fulfilled. Biblical covenants are cut, established, broken, upheld, remembered, strengthened, given, placed, commanded, kept, forgotten, abandoned, and so forth, but nowhere are they fulfilled. ⁴¹

First, as we have seen above, “fulfillment” is not how covenants in the Hebrew Bible relate to one another. Without repeating points already made, I would underline that these covenants exist alongside each other as distinctive expressions of God’s relationship with the created world. Although they are established at different points in the biblical narrative, none is considered a fulfillment of an earlier one. Even when a later covenant recasts a preceding one, those updates are never described as fulfillments. Thus, Jeremiah 31’s revision of the Sinaitic covenant three times uses the common Hebrew idiom “to cut a covenant” (vv. 31–33); the same is true of Isaiah 55’s revision of the Davidic covenant. Because of the affinity between these prophetic texts and the New Covenant of Jesus, which likewise represents a revision of an earlier covenant, their language is especially important. They are not described as fulfillments of their predecessors, still less as improvements of perceived deficiencies. Rather they are new covenants, “cut” for the first time, which adapt an earlier covenant for a new context.

Admittedly, in some English translations one finds the verb “fulfill” taking “covenant” as its direct object. For example, the New American Bible translates Deuteronomy 8:18 in this way: “Remember then the LORD, your God, for he is the one who gives you the power to get wealth, by fulfilling, as he has now done, the covenant he swore to your ancestors” (see also New Jewish Publication Society [1985]). This and other instances of “to fulfill (a covenant)” are translations of the Hebrew verb hēqîm, which literally means “to cause to rise” and can in some cases mean “to fulfill.” This meaning is clear from verses in which hēqîm denotes the fulfillment of a vow (Num 30:14–15), an oath (Gen 26:3; Num 30:14; Jer 11:5), or a word/promise (Deut 9:5; 27:26; 1 Kgs 2:4; 12:15). But as Jacob Milgrom has shown, when hēqîm is used of covenants, it means “uphold/maintain/carry out” rather than “fulfill.” ⁴² Thus, God’s promise to Abraham to hēqîm their covenant with his descendants is not a promise to fulfill it with Isaac and Jacob but to maintain it (Gen 17:7, 19, 21; cf. Exod 6:4; Lev 26:9; Deut 8:18).

Further evidence comes from the New Testament, in which the verb “to fulfill” (Greek plēroō) never takes “covenant” as a direct object. Of course, the New Testament is replete with fulfillment language. The word most often describes the fulfillment of Scripture itself, cited variously as “what had been spoken (by the Lord) through the prophet(s)” (Matt 1:22; 2:15, 17, 23; 4:14; 8:17; 12:17; 13:35; 21:4; 26:56; 27:9; John 12:38; cf. Acts 3:18; 13:27), “scriptures” (Mark 14:19; Matt 26:54; Luke 4:21; 24:44; John 13:18; 17:12; 19:24, 36; Acts 1:16; Jam 2:23), and “word” (Luke 1:20; John 15:25; 18:9, 32). The only other thing from the Hebrew Bible that is “fulfilled” in the New Testament is the Jewish “law” (Matt 5:17; Rom 8:4; 13:8; Gal 5:14; cf. Rom 13:10). What is not fulfilled in any New Testament text is a covenant, and when covenants are mentioned in the New Testament, the verbs associated with them are similar to the ones we find in the Hebrew Bible: remember (Luke 1:72), give (Acts 3:25; 7:8), ratify (Gal 3:17), and enact (Heb 8:6).

Thus, to the problems Gregerman and others have identified in references to the fulfillment of the “Old Covenant” we can add that there is no biblical basis for such language. This is not to say that “fulfillment” is an inappropriate rubric for Christian theology—only that theologians should be precise in identifying which parts of the Hebrew Bible find fulfillment in Jesus Christ. A good example of such precision is when Kasper and the CRRJ discuss the fulfillment of covenantal promises rather than the covenants themselves. Thus, we read that “the New Covenant for Christians is … the fulfillment of the promises of the Old Covenant” and that “the New Testament see itself as the … definitive reinterpretation of the Old Testament covenant promise.” ⁴³ The difference between covenant and covenantal promises is small but significant. Not only does the difference more faithfully reflect biblical discourse on covenants but it also leaves room for the fulfillment of these promises in Judaism. Statements by Kasper and the CRRJ rightly affirm the enduring validity of God’s covenants with the Jewish people, but this affirmation is weakened by broad comparison of the Old and New Covenants which, Gregerman has shown, inevitably implies the inferiority of the former.

By focusing on covenantal promises, we recognize that their ultimate fulfillment is yet to come for Jews and Christians alike. Kasper makes this point when he warns against a christological interpretation of Scripture turning into an ecclesiological interpretation. According to him, this mistake can be avoided

if the balance of promise from the Old Testament is taken seriously and the eschatological difference between the fulfillment which has already been accomplished in Christ Jesus and the still anticipated consummation is held open. This difference leaves room for the “still” of the continuing validity of the covenant with Israel. ⁴⁴

This acknowledgement of God’s ongoing and future salvific work for the Jewish people through Jewish traditions, which is not unique to this document, ⁴⁵ means that Jews and Christians stand together—“shoulder to shoulder” in the memorable verse from Zephaniah (3:9) quoted in Nostra Aetate—in anticipation of God’s fulfillment of promises to Israel. This shared and open-ended hope may be missed if we think of covenants in terms of fulfillment. Instead, it is their promises that have been and will be fulfilled. Some of that fulfillment is already known, but the myriad possible ways they will be fulfilled in the future are known only to God.

Conclusion

This article has offered a response to Gregerman’s article, “Superiority without Supersessionism,” in which he applauds the post-Nostra Aetate move away from supersessionism in recent Catholic theology and documents but exposes their tendency to cast the “Old Covenant” as inferior to the New Covenant. I have tried to show that this tendency is based, in part, on a faulty reading of the biblical tradition of covenants, including the various covenants of the Hebrew Bible and the New Covenant of Jesus. These covenants do not proceed in a linear and progressive sequence but coexist alongside each other in relationships of complementarity and dynamic tension. Also, a close look at the biblical evidence shows that it is more appropriate to talk about the fulfillment of covenantal promises rather than the covenant itself. This exegesis may be helpful for avoiding the tendency Gregerman identified in his article. By drawing on the biblical tradition of complementarity and dynamic tension, we can avoid a framework of superiority and inferiority among the covenants, and by focusing on the fulfillment of their promises rather than the covenants themselves, we are better able to recognize the hope, shared by Jews and Christians alike, for the ultimate consummation of those promises.