7 The Glory of the New Covenant— Part 1: It Gives Life, Produces Righteousness, and Is Permanent
(2 Corinthians 3:6–11)
who also made us adequate as servants of a new covenant, not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life. But if the ministry of death, in letters engraved on stones, came with glory, so that the sons of Israel could not look intently at the face of Moses because of the glory of his face, fading as it was, how will the ministry of the Spirit fail to be even more with glory? For if the ministry of condemnation has glory, much more does the ministry of righteousness abound in glory. For indeed what had glory, in this case has no glory because of the glory that surpasses it. For if that which fades away was with glory, much more that which remains is in glory. (3:6–11)
As it has since apostolic times, ritual, ceremonial, sacramental Christianity poses a serious threat to the authentic, biblical gospel. In such false systems, the religious institution becomes a surrogate Christ, displacing the true Christ. People connect only to the institution through mechanical works rather than to the living Jesus Christ through faith. External ceremonies take the place of internal worship. The sacraments become means of grace instead of symbols of grace. Ministers become exalted intermediaries between the people and God, performing the rituals supposedly necessary for salvation, instead of humble servants who bring grace to save, sanctify, and equip the saints for the work of the ministry (Eph. 4:12). The Reformers’ protest of this dead legalism ignited the quest to recover the pure New Testament gospel after centuries of ceremonialism and the Protestant Reformation flamed. The church today must also be on its guard against the relentlessly deadly heresy of ceremonialism.
To Paul’s great sorrow, the church at Corinth had been infiltrated by the devastating plague of ceremonialism. Self-styled “apostles” (in reality, legalistic heretics) sought to bring the Corinthians under the crushing yoke of bondage to the Law (cf. Acts 15:10; Gal. 5:1). They taught that being circumcised, observing Sabbaths, new moons, festivals, and the Old Testament dietary regulations were necessary for salvation. In essence, they argued that Gentiles must first become Jewish proselytes before they could be saved and enter God’s kingdom.
In contrast to those false teachers, who were ministers of the old covenant (claiming the Mosaic covenant has saving efficacy), Paul was a minister of the new covenant. As noted in the previous chapter of this volume, an adequate, spiritually effective minister preaches the new covenant gospel. But because Paul preached that liberating message, the false apostles at Corinth, who opposed the new covenant gospel message, savagely attacked him. As he defended his integrity and his ministry, Paul gave a rich, if brief, overview of the new covenant.
That the apostle should have had to defend himself to the Corinthians grieved him deeply. He had poured his life into the Corinthian church during the year and a half to nearly two years he had ministered there (Acts 18:11) teaching and shepherding them. Because of his intimate relationship with the Corinthians, 2 Corinthians is the most personal of Paul’s inspired letters, the one in which he is the most transparent. For example, he wrote plaintively, “Our mouth has spoken freely to you, O Corinthians, our heart is opened wide. You are not restrained by us, but you are restrained in your own affections. Now in a like exchange—I speak as to children—open wide to us also” (2 Cor. 6:11–13).
The pain and anguish of his heart as he wrote this epistle flowed from Paul’s deep affection for the Corinthians. In 12:14 he described them as his children, then wrote “I will most gladly spend and be expended for your souls. If I love you more, am I to be loved less?” (v. 15). In 1 Corinthians 4:14–15 he explained his motive for rebuking the Corinthians: “I do not write these things to shame you, but to admonish you as my beloved children. For if you were to have countless tutors in Christ, yet you would not have many fathers, for in Christ Jesus I became your father through the gospel.”
There were many other issues besides the situation at Corinth that brought pain and suffering into Paul’s life. In 2 Corinthians 4:8–10 he spoke of being “afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not despairing; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body.” Later he wrote of enduring “afflictions, … hardships, … distresses, … beatings, … imprisonments, … tumults, … labors, … sleeplessness, [and] hunger” (6:4–5). When he visited Macedonia he was “afflicted on every side: conflicts without, fears within” (7:5). In 11:23–29 Paul summarized his sufferings for the cause of Christ—sufferings none of the false apostles could match:
Are they servants of Christ?—I speak as if insane—I more so; in far more labors, in far more imprisonments, beaten times without number, often in danger of death. Five times I received from the Jews thirty-nine lashes. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, a night and a day I have spent in the deep. I have been on frequent journeys, in dangers from rivers, dangers from robbers, dangers from my countrymen, dangers from the Gentiles, dangers in the city, dangers in the wilderness, dangers on the sea, dangers among false brethren; I have been in labor and hardship, through many sleepless nights, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure. Apart from such external things, there is the daily pressure on me of concern for all the churches. Who is weak without my being weak? Who is led into sin without my intense concern?
But of all the churches under his care, Paul appears most anxious for the Corinthians. They had been blessed with much; “in everything [they] were enriched in Him, in all speech and all knowledge, even as the testimony concerning Christ was confirmed in [them], so that [they were] not lacking in any gift” (1 Cor. 1:5–7). As noted above, they had the unequaled privilege of having had the unique apostle as their pastor for nearly two years. Yet despite their rich blessings, the Corinthians were in turmoil. They had a hard time putting off their old life. Their congregation was split into quarreling factions (1 Cor. 1:11–12). They were so spiritually immature that Paul addressed them as if they were “infants in Christ” (1 Cor. 3:1). They tolerated gross sexual perversion that would have made a pagan blush, and instead of mourning over that sin, they were arrogant (1 Cor. 5:1–2). The Corinthians aired their dirty laundry in public before pagan judges instead of settling their disputes among themselves (1 Cor. 6:1–8). They perverted their freedom in Christ into a justification for practicing sexual immorality (1 Cor. 6:12–20)—even to the point of consorting with prostitutes (1 Cor. 6:16). At the opposite ex treme, some argued for total sexual abstinence—even in marriage (7:1–5). Flaunting their liberty to eat meat sacrificed to idols, the stronger believers rode roughshod over the consciences of the weaker ones (1 Cor. 8:1–13; cf. 10:23–32). Women abandoned their God-designed role and joined the feminist movement of their day (1 Cor. 11:1–16; 14:34–35). The Corinthians conducted themselves at the Lord’s Supper as if it were a pagan feast: Some gorged themselves while others went hungry and, shockingly, some even got drunk (1 Cor. 11:17–34). So perverted had their practice of spiritual gifts become that Paul had to spend three chapters straightening them out (1 Cor. 12–14). Amazingly, when someone in an ecstatic frenzy cursed Jesus, the Corinthians believed that he was speaking under the Holy Spirit’s control (12:3). As a result of their prideful misuse of spiritual gifts, their worship services were chaotic (1 Cor. 14:26–33). Falling prey to the prevailing Greek philosophy of the day, the Corinthians even wavered on the key doctrine of the Resurrection (1 Cor. 15).
Now, on top of all that, many of the Corinthians had embraced the false apostles, falling for their slanderous lies about Paul’s character and ministry. The apostle was heartbroken over the devastating influx of ceremonialism into the Corinthian church and the consequent abandoning of the truth by some. Of all the pain in his life this was the most intense—to see the defection of his beloved Corinthian church into sacramentalism, ceremonialism, and ritualism. A. T. Robertson writes,
If Paul is able to look on the bright side of the preacher’s life, he knows what the dark side is. There is plenty of cloud in his life to set off the light. Indeed, when Paul is driven to boast of his work in comparison with that of the Judaizers at Corinth it is the catalogue of his trials which he counts. He has his “prisons,” his “stripes,” his “shipwreck,” his “perils” of various kinds, his “watchings often,” his “hunger and thirst.” “If I must needs glory, I will glory of the things that concern my weakness.” But just now Paul cannot glory even in his weakness. He cannot glory in anything. He is a broken man, broken in spirit and in body. (The Glory of the Ministry [New York: Revell, 1911], 31–32)
What must have been especially galling to Paul is that the Corinthians knew better. They had been saved under Paul’s new covenant ministry —a salvation they celebrated every time they partook of the Lord’s Supper (1 Cor. 11:24–25). They understood that the sacrifice of Jesus Christ permanently and fully atoned for sin, thus rendering the sacrifices of the old covenant obsolete (cf. Heb. 10:12). They knew that the old covenant saved no one; it merely showed people how sinful they were and made them desperate for grace and mercy from God. Then it pointed sinners to the Savior. That after all of Paul’s teaching to the contrary they could follow those who confused the truth of salvation is astonishing; and yet as history and the present proves, it is not unusual (cf. Gal. 3:1–7).
Second Corinthians 3:6–18 is a condensed summary of the new covenant distinctives, the most complete exposition of which is found in the book of Hebrews. As Paul does in this passage, the writer of Hebrews makes clear the superiority of the new covenant. The new covenant has always been a better covenant than the Mosaic Law because it has a better mediator, Jesus Christ (Heb. 8:6). A mediator acts as an intermediary between two parties in a dispute (cf. Gal. 3:20). The mediators of the old covenant, Israel’s prophets, priests, and Moses (cf. Ex. 20:19; Deut. 5:5; Gal. 3:19), could not adequately represent both God and men, since they were mere men. But as the God-man, Jesus can perfectly represent men to God and God to men. Therefore Paul declares that there is “one mediator also between God and men, the man Christ Jesus” (1 Tim. 2:5). New covenant believers have direct access to God through Jesus Christ alone, “for through Him we … have our access in one Spirit to the Father” (Eph. 2:18). There is no need for priests, the saints, or Mary to intercede with God on believers’ behalf.
The new covenant is also superior to the old because it has better promises, the most significant of which is the promise of complete forgiveness and permanent cleansing from all sin. Jeremiah records God’s new covenant promise, “I will forgive their iniquity, and their sin I will remember no more” (Jer. 31:34). The old covenant could not provide cleansing from sin, “for it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins” (Heb. 10:4). Forgiveness of sin comes only through the blood of Christ. The writer of Hebrews declares, “we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all. … He [Christ], having offered one sacrifice for sins for all time, sat down at the right hand of God” (Heb. 10:10, 12; cf. 7:27; 9:12; Matt. 26:28).
Hebrews 8:8–12 describes seven characteristics of the new covenant.
First, the new covenant comes from God. In Hebrews 8:8 God declares, “I will effect a new covenant.” Its terms are based on His sovereign plan and purpose.
Second, the new covenant is different from the old covenant. It is not an upgrade but something entirely new. The Greek word translated “new” in Hebrews 8:8 is kainos, which means new in the sense of different, not new in the sense of subsequence in time.
Third, the new covenant is made “with the house of Israel and with the house of Judah” (Heb. 8:8), but that does not mean, of course, that Gentiles are excluded from it, because “it is those who are of faith who are sons of Abraham. … And if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s descendants, heirs according to promise” (Gal. 3:7, 29). Gentiles enter into the blessings of the new covenant through faith in Jesus Christ. The Law given to Moses has always been applied to Gentiles, even those who never heard Moses, and violation of it will bring eternal judgment. So also new covenant forgiveness has always been offered to Gentiles who have sought grace and forgiveness from God.
Fourth, the new covenant is gracious, not legalistic. In Hebrews 8:9 God said the new covenant is “not like the covenant which I made with their fathers on the day when I took them by the hand to lead them out of the land of Egypt; for they did not continue in My covenant, and I did not care for them.” Israel’s disobedience did not abrogate the old covenant but caused the nation to forfeit its promised blessings. Though under the new covenant God, as a loving Father, chastens His disobedient children (Heb. 12:5–11), they will never forfeit its blessing of forgiveness of sin (Jer. 31:34).
Fifth, the new covenant is internal, unlike the old covenant, which was written on tablets of stone (2 Cor. 3:7; cf. Ex. 31:18). Hebrews 8:10 records God’s promise under the new covenant to “put [His] laws into [His people’s] minds, and [to] write them on their hearts.”
Sixth, the new covenant is personal. It will finally be fulfilled to Israel (Rom. 9:26–27), but only when the Jews repent and believe the gospel. Salvation comes only to individuals. The Jews, one day in the future, on new covenant terms through faith in Jesus Christ (Zech. 12:10), “all will know [the Lord], from the least to the greatest” (Heb. 8:11).
Seventh, the new covenant brings complete forgiveness. As noted above, that is something the old covenant could not provide (Heb. 10:4). It is the blood of Jesus Christ that provides the forgiveness of sin promised under the new covenant (Matt. 26:28; cf. Heb. 9:14–15).
In addition to the list given by the author of Hebrews, Paul in this passage reveals eight distinctive qualities of the new covenant: It gives life, produces righteousness, is permanent, brings hope, is clear, is Christ centered, is energized by the Spirit, and is transforming.
THE NEW COVENANT GIVES LIFE
who also made us adequate as servants of a new covenant, not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life. (3:6)
As noted in the previous chapter Paul, in contrast to the false apostles at Corinth, was a servant of the new covenant. The old covenant was a “ministry of death” (3:7) and a “ministry of condemnation” (3:9). In contrast, the new covenant is not of the letter but of the Spirit and brings eternal life.
Most of the Jewish people of Paul’s day had succumbed to misrepresentation of God’s purpose in giving the Law. They had been taught by their religious leaders that it was a way of salvation—a purpose for which God had never intended the Law (Rom. 3:20). On the contrary, “The Law came in so that the transgression would increase” (Rom. 5:20; cf. Gal. 3:19). The Law revealed to people their utter inability to live according to God’s holy standard, and thus their need for a Redeemer (Gal. 3:24). That does not mean that there is anything wrong with the Law (Rom. 7:7); on the contrary, it is “holy and righteous and good” (Rom. 7:12). The problem lies not in the Law but in sinners’ inability to keep it.
The zealous Pharisee Saul of Tarsus was shocked to realize that the Law he had so rigidly observed brought him not life, but death: “I was once alive apart from the Law; but when the commandment came, sin became alive and I died; and this commandment, which was to result in life, proved to result in death for me; for sin, taking an opportunity through the commandment, deceived me and through it killed me” (Rom. 7:9–11).
The Law kills in three ways. First, it kills by killing joy, peace, and hope, and replacing them with the frustration, sorrow, hopelessness, and guilt that come from one’s inability to obey it. Second, sinners’ inability to keep the Law perpetrates spiritual death (Gal. 3:10; cf. Rom. 6:23). Finally, the violated Law becomes the basis of eternal condemnation, actually killing those who seek to be saved by keeping it. Instead of recognizing their inability to keep the Law and allowing that to drive them to Christ, they follow the dead works of sacramentalism, rituals, and ceremonies. They are like the Jews of whom Paul wrote: “Not knowing about God’s righteousness and seeking to establish their own, they did not subject themselves to the righteousness of God” (Rom. 10:3). Having distorted the Law’s true purpose, the legalist is left with the mere letter of the Law—its external requirements apart from its true spiritual purpose. Legalists are like those Jews “who though having the letter of the Law and circumcision [were] transgressor[s] of the Law. For he is not a Jew who is one outwardly, nor is circumcision that which is outward in the flesh” (Rom. 2:27–28).
But Scripture declares of new covenant believers, “The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set [them] free from the law of sin and of death” (Rom. 8:2). They are thus freed to “serve in newness of the Spirit and not in oldness of the letter” (Rom. 7:6). Realizing one is a sinner under condemnation by the Law should produce repentance and a cry to God for mercy. The publican in Luke 18 is the classic example. Under the burden of his sin and violation of God’s law he pleaded, “‘God, be merciful to me, the sinner!’” and went home justified. The Pharisee who saw his law-keeping as the means of his salvation was not justified but condemned (Luke 18:9–14).
THE NEW COVENANT PRODUCES RIGHTEOUSNESS
But if the ministry of death, in letters engraved on stones, came with glory, so that the sons of Israel could not look intently at the face of Moses because of the glory of his face … how will the ministry of the Spirit fail to be even more with glory? For if the ministry of condemnation has glory, much more does the ministry of righteousness abound in glory. (3:7a, 8–9)
The phrase but if could be better translated “since.” Paul’s Jewish opponents often accused him of opposing God’s law (Acts 21:28), but that was not the case. The Ten Commandments, the moral summary of God’s holy law, were written in letters engraved on stones by God Himself (Ex. 32:15–16). Because of that, Paul affirmed that the Law was imbued with God’s glory; that is, perfectly reflecting His righteous person.
But unlike his legalistic opponents, Paul saw the old covenant of the Law in its proper perspective—as a ministry of death. The Law saves no one; it only drives people to see their need for a Savior. In fact, it is the greatest mass murderer in history. The Law will inevitably condemn all those who do not come to saving faith in Jesus Christ to eternal punishment in hell.
The Law condemns sinners by defining the standard of divine righteousness. In Romans 7:7 Paul wrote, “What shall we say then? Is the Law sin? May it never be! On the contrary, I would not have come to know sin except through the Law; for I would not have known about coveting if the Law had not said, ‘You shall not covet’” (cf. Rom. 3:20; 5:13, 20). The depraved human mind cannot truly understand sinful behavior until confronted with God’s holy law.
The Law also condemns sinners by exacerbating sin. “Sin,” Paul lamented, “taking opportunity through the commandment, produced in me coveting of every kind; for apart from the Law sin is dead” (Rom. 7:8). The natural tendency of sinful, fallen human nature is to rebel against God’s law by doing the very things it forbids. Thus the Law actually produces more sin in the lives of the unredeemed. John Bunyan illustrated that truth in a dramatic scene from Pilgrim’s Progress:
Then [Interpreter] took [Christian] by the hand, and led him into a very large parlour that was full of dust, because it was never swept; the which, after he had reviewed a little while, the Interpreter called for a man to sweep. Now, when he began to sweep, the dust began so abundantly to fly about that Christian had almost therewith been choked. Then said the Interpreter to a damsel that stood by, “Bring hither the water, and sprinkle the room;” the which, when she had done, it was swept and cleansed with pleasure.
Chr. Then said Christian, “What means this?”
Inter. The Interpreter answered, “This parlour is the heart of a man that was never sanctified by the sweet grace of the gospel: the dust is his original sin and inward corruptions, that have defiled the whole man. He that began to sweep at first is the law; but she that brought water, and did sprinkle it, is the gospel. Now, whereas thou sawest that, so soon as the first began to sweep, the dust did so fly about, that the room by him could not be cleansed, but that thou wast almost choked therewith: this is to show thee that the law, instead of cleansing the heart, by its working, from sin, doth revive, put strength into, and increase it in the soul, even as it doth discover and forbid it; for it doth not give the power to subdue (Rom. 5:20; 7:9; 1 Cor. 15:56). (Reprint, Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1976], 33–34)
When face-to-face with his sinfulness revealed by the Law, Paul saw himself as in a mirror and recognized that he was spiritually dead: “I was once alive apart from the Law; but when the commandment came, sin became alive and I died; and this commandment, which was to result in life, proved to result in death for me; for sin, taking an opportunity through the commandment, deceived me and through it killed me” (Rom. 7:9–11). He realized that he was a helpless, doomed sinner headed for eternal destruction in hell. Once again, however, the apostle stressed that there was nothing wrong with God’s law: “For we know that the Law is spiritual, but I am of flesh, sold into bondage to sin” (Rom. 7:14). “Is the Law then contrary to the promises of God?” he wrote to the Galatians. “May it never be! For if a law had been given which was able to impart life, then righteousness would indeed have been based on law” (Gal. 3:21). The Law was never intended to be a means of salvation. The Law provides no grace, mercy, or forgiveness. It has no power to enable the sinner to be righteous. Its purpose was to reveal God’s holy, pure standard and drive exposed sinners to the Savior (Gal. 3:24; Heb. 4:12–13). But to those who rely on it for salvation the Law has a ministry of death.
To illustrate the Law’s glory, Paul turned to a familiar event in Israel’s history—Moses’ receiving the Law on Mount Sinai. After he had been in the presence of God’s Shekinah glory, the sons of Israel could not look intently at the face of Moses because of the glory of his face. Exodus 34:29 reads, “It came about when Moses was coming down from Mount Sinai (and the two tablets of the testimony were in Moses’ hand as he was coming down from the mountain), that Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because of his speaking with Him.” So intense was the light of God’s glory reflected in Moses’ face that “when Aaron and all the sons of Israel saw Moses, behold, the skin of his face shone, and they were afraid to come near him” (v. 30). After Moses reassured them, “the sons of Israel came near, and he commanded them to do everything that the Lord had spoken to him on Mount Sinai” (v. 32). After that, Moses wore a veil after coming from the presence of God (vv. 33–35). Paul’s point is that the Law’s glory was evident to all who saw Moses’ face after he came down from the mountain.
But if the old covenant had a certain fading glory how, Paul asked, will the ministry of the Spirit (the new covenant) fail to be even more with glory? The Law written on stone in the old covenant, which produced death and condemnation, had the glory of God in it because it revealed His glorious nature as holy and just. The new covenant reveals God’s glory in a full manner because it not only reveals His holy nature, justice, wrath, and judgment (as did the old covenant), but it also manifests His compassion, mercy, grace, and forgiveness (cf. Ex. 33:19). And by the new covenant, the Spirit gives life and righteousness: “The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus [sets believers] free from the law of sin and of death” (Rom. 8:2). The old covenant commands righteousness; the new covenant confers it. The old covenant made people hearers of the truth; the new covenant enables them to be doers of the truth.
Old Testament saints were not saved by keeping the Law, but being broken over their inability to keep it, they came to God as penitents, hungering and thirsting for righteousness and mourning over their sin (cf. Matt. 5:2–7). God then mercifully and graciously forgave their sins based on what Christ would accomplish in the future by His substitutionary death (cf. 2 Cor. 5:21). Having been saved by grace through faith, the Old Testament saints found the moral law a source of blessing and joy. They could then exult with the psalmist, “O how I love Your law! It is my meditation all the day” (Ps. 119:97; cf. 119:113, 163, 165). The Law then became to them “more desirable than gold, yes, than much fine gold; sweeter also than honey and the drippings of the honeycomb” (Ps. 19:10; cf. 119:103). It was not their attitude to the Law that saved them; rather, salvation changed their attitude to the Law, and they repented and in faith sought God’s gracious forgiveness.
But apart from salvation in Christ, the old covenant remained a ministry of condemnation, of judgment, and, ultimately, of damnation. It brought people to the bar of God’s judgment but provided no means of satisfying His justice except for eternal punishment in hell. Yet despite its shortcomings, the old covenant did have glory, because it reflected God’s nature as holy. And if even the old covenant had a certain glory, how much more does the ministry of righteousness (a descriptive name for the new covenant) abound in glory by revealing God’s nature as loving and gracious. The new covenant far surpasses the old covenant because it provides what the old covenant could not—righteousness: “But now,” under the new covenant, “apart from the Law the righteousness of God has been manifested … even the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all those who believe” (Rom. 3:21–22). In the new covenant, God imputes the righteousness of Christ to believers (2 Cor. 5:21), wrapping them in a “robe of righteousness” (Isa. 61:10).
Paul’s own spiritual odyssey illustrates the superiority of the new covenant to the old covenant. His old covenant credentials were impeccable: He was “circumcised the eighth day, of the nation of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the Law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to the righteousness which is in the Law, found blameless” (Phil. 3:5–6). He led an outwardly blameless life of rigid conformity to the old covenant rituals and regulations. In fact, Paul was a rising star in first-century Judaism; he was “advancing in Judaism beyond many of [his] contemporaries among [his] countrymen, being more extremely zealous for [his] ancestral traditions” (Gal. 1:14).
But after his dramatic, life-changing encounter with the risen Christ on the road to Damascus, Paul’s perspective changed radically. All his old covenant achievements, of which he had been so proud, he “counted as loss for the sake of Christ” (Phil. 3:7). He despised them as “rubbish [excrement] so that [he might] gain Christ” (v. 8). He no longer counted on a “righteousness of [his] own derived from the Law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which comes from God on the basis of faith” (v. 9). The new covenant both reveals and by grace provides the righteousness unattainable under the old covenant.
THE NEW COVENANT IS PERMANENT
fading as it was … For indeed what had glory, in this case has no glory because of the glory that surpasses it. For if that which fades away was with glory, much more that which remains is in glory. (7b, 10–11)
The reflected glory in Moses’ face, fading as it was, symbolized the impermanence of the old covenant. Like the glory on Moses’ face, the old covenant was never intended to be permanent. Its glory (cf. v. 7) was a fading, passing glory. It was not the solution to the plight of sinners, since it could not save them. The old covenant prescribed what men were to do but could not enable them to do it. It provided a basis for damnation, but not salvation; for condemnation, but not for justification; for moral culpability, but not for moral purity.
That the old covenant was not the final revelation of God’s redemptive purpose is clear even in the Old Testament. Speaking through Jeremiah, God promised a new covenant (Jer. 31:31–34). Commenting on the implications of that, the writer of Hebrews noted, “When He said, ‘A new covenant,’ He has made the first obsolete. But whatever is becoming obsolete and growing old is ready to disappear” (Heb. 8:13). Anyone who read the Old Testament should have realized that the old covenant was not intended to be permanent.
On the other hand, the new covenant is permanent. Paul wrote, For indeed what had glory (the old covenant), in this case has no glory because of the glory (of the new covenant) that surpasses it. For if that which fades away (the old covenant) was with glory, much more that which remains (the new covenant) is in glory. The old covenant, as noted above, had glory. But so superior is the new covenant that it is as if the old covenant had no glory because of the glory that surpasses it. The old covenant fades away when its function is complete, when it has produced conviction and repentance, but the new covenant remains permanently and will never be superseded or supplemented. The gospel message of salvation by grace through faith is God’s final word to man. Jesus Christ’s sacrificial death on the cross has “obtained eternal redemption” for His people (Heb. 9:12), making Him “the mediator of a new covenant” (v. 15). So comprehensive and final is Christ’s death that it paid the price for the sins of the old covenant saints: “Since a death has taken place for the redemption of the transgressions that were committed under the first covenant, those who have been called may receive the promise of the eternal inheritance” (v. 15; cf. Rom. 3:24–25). To His completed work nothing may be added. Any attempt to return to the external ritual and ceremony of the old covenant brings not blessing, but a curse (Gal. 3:10; James 2:10).