American culture from its beginning has tended to value what is new, and to disregard what is old. The celebration of Easter and Jesus’ resurrection from the dead challenges this prejudice, though it does not retreat to the opposite: being stubbornly attached to things old and resenting anything new.
Jesus, according to orthodox Christianity based on the Bible’s teachings, is the eternal Son of God. That is, He is both old, and new. The incarnation, God in flesh, is (was) certainly something new - unheard of - nigh impossible to fathom or believe. New things are hard that way. But to think about a relationship between the members of the Trinity that has stretched from eternity past in perfect love and agreement also stretches the brain. He is amazingly old; and shockingly new.
Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem (celebrated last Sunday) illustrates some of this. Here is a new kind of leader, outside the circles of established power, but demonstrating amazing (S)piritual power in word and deed. He rides to town, not on a white stallion, but on the “foal of a donkey” - humbly, yet acclaimed by the shouts of people. The people are shouting not something new, but something old - a verse from Psalm 118:26: “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” Both old and new.
He answers the long-standing question: “How can a man be put right with God? - in a new way. Clearing the temple, he instructs us that the temple/church is not a business; and that this relationship is not made possible by our sacrifices (and the money-changers in the temple were facilitating the purchase of lambs for sacrifice) but by His Sacrifice as our Substitute, rendering all others obsolete. Our relationship with God is no longer characterized by what we pay, but in that we pray (“my Father’s house will be a house of prayer”).
The implications for Christians and churches are huge. There really is no use in clinging to old for old’s sake. We must embrace what is new in Christ in all the new ways. “Ever reforming,” as the early reformers said. But also, it is not up to us to create (or imitate) ever-new newness.
An old song put to new music illustrates this for me: “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end” (that’s beautifully old). But regarding those mercies, the song goes on to say: “They are new every morning, new every morning” (that’s refreshingly new); “Great is your faithfulness O Lord.” Both old and new.