On the night of the great Paschal Vigil between Holy Saturday and Easter Sunday we gather in the dimly lit church to hear a long series of readings from the Old Testament. Then with the singing of the Gloria and the ringing of bells, the lights come on and we turn to the New Testament. The account of the Resurrection of the Lord ushers in the 50 days of Paschaltide in which the readings from Scriptures are almost entirely taken from the New Testament. We seem to make a liturgical exodus out of the Old Testament with its shadowy signs and figures and into the bright light of the New with its fulfillments and realities. Yet it is not long before we meet the Old Testament again in the texts of the New. The apostles who proclaim the Resurrection have no way to understand or preach the Paschal mystery except by reference to the Old Testament, which was their only Bible. If the Old foreshadows the new, then the New in return casts a revitalizing light on the Old.

The theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar suggests such a fresh approach when he asks, "Why not expand our knowledge of Jesus and his interior life through the vast spaces of the Old Testament, amplifying it there as in a sound chamber?" His question, a recommendation really, is an engaging one because it reverses the direction by which we usually relate the two Testaments. A Christian reading of the Old Testament is not a going back, a regression into pre-Christian history; rather it is a going forward, a maturing in the Christian faith. In many ways the Old Testament is the indispensable way to understand the New and above all to "expand our knowledge of Jesus and his interior life."

Because all Scripture finds its unity in the person of Jesus Christ the Old and New Testaments cannot be related in a crudely sequential way, so that the one succeeds and displaces the other. As the eternal Word of God, Christ stands not only after the patriarchs, kings and prophets of Israel, but also before them: "Before Abraham was, I am" (John 8:58). Not only is He the fulfillment and end of Old Testament history, He is a new beginning of that story as well. St. John begins his Gospel not with the birth narrative but with the creation of the world: "In the beginning was the Word, . . . all things were made through him" (John 1:1ff). The author understands the Gospel to contain all the human history that has preceded it and to provide a new starting point for its interpretation. The second Adam is also before

the first. He is the father of the new human race that was intended by God from the beginning, and the original sin of Adam is now the "happy fault that was worthy to have so great a Redeemer" (St. Augustine).

When we enter the world of the Old Testament we immediately notice how much bigger it is than the New, not only in physical heft, but also in the scope of its history and the variety of literature. These vast spaces can, however, easily become a disquieting wilderness. Here we come upon historical events of obscure relevance, disedifying stories of human misbehavior, cryptic prophecies, and ways of thinking and acting difficult to reconcile with Christian teaching.

Yet it was precisely in this wilderness of history, poetry and prophecy that our Lord, from a human perspective, came to know the Father whose unique Son He is. His own teachings, while possessing a new authority and a more interiorized meaning, were nevertheless rooted in the Old Testament and reveal its original and authentic intention. Often enough He relies directly on Old Testament passages—thus endorsing them with His own authority—as when He restates the Ten Commandments to the rich young man (Mat 19:16ff, par), or answers the question about the resurrection of the dead with reference to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, or reveals the double commandment of love of God and love of man to be already contained in the Deuteronomic law. (Mat 22:23ff, par). From this perspective the "vast spaces" of the Old Testament open before us as a new territory, one which Christ has already explored. By His Spirit in the Church He continues to interpret in "all the scriptures the things concerning himself" (Luke 24:27).

It is notable that the Psalms continue to be sung unabated throughout the seven weeks of Eastertide. In discussions with guests I have sometimes pointed out that Christian monks have made far more extensive use of the Psalms then the synagogue liturgy ever did or does. (St. Benedict prescribes the use of all 150 Psalms each week.) At this point in time it is fair to say that the Psalms have been sung and interpreted as hymns to and about Christ far more than in any other way. Christians do not sing Psalms because they are ancient literature but because they are claimed by the Messiah, the Christ, and they sing them with Him and in Him. In the Liturgy of heaven the redeemed unite the praises of the Old and New Covenants and sing at once "the song of Moses, the servant of God, and the song of the Lamb" (Rev 15:3). The Psalms that originated in the old Jerusalem resound with fresh meaning as they are sung in the new Jerusalem.

When St. Jerome pronounced his famous dictum, "Ignorance of the Scriptures means ignorance of Christ," he was referring to the Old Testament as much as to the New. The liturgy of Easter prepares us to take up the Old Testament as a sort of third Testament by which we go even deeper into the mystery of Christ. These are the Scriptures that are fulfilled by Him and that are to be fulfilled by Him.

Sincerely,
Fr. Richard G. Herbel