And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.” [Luke 22:19-12 (ESV)]
Today is Maundy (or Holy) Thursday—the day many Christians throughout the world will observe the institution of the Lord’s Supper/Eucharist/Holy Communion by coming to the Lord’s table. Regardless of what you call this sacrament, Jesus’ mention of a “new covenant” probably will be part of your service. Not a word commonly used today, what is a covenant and how does it differ from a contract?
Both covenants and contracts are binding agreements but, in a contract, the parties negotiate from fairly equal bargaining positions and are free not to sign. Although both parties are expected to abide by its terms, a contract has contingencies. If either party fails to hold up their end of the bargain, the contract is null and void and the relationship ends.
A covenant, however, is not between equals. With no negotiation, it is more like an agreement between the conquering king and the conquered people! While contracts can be amended, covenants are unalterable. In a covenant, the parties agree to hold up their end of the deal even if the other party doesn’t. While a failure on one side or the other will yield consequences, it will not negate the relationship. In Scripture we find covenants between God and Adam, Abraham, Moses, Noah, and David. In them, God promised to provide, protect, and bless his people while they promised to trust and obey him and repent when they didn’t.
God’s standard is perfection but, regardless of how hard we try, we can’t be perfect. As we know from the Old Testament, the people repeatedly failed to keep their promises. In a contractual relationship, that failure would have ended their relationship with God. Fortunately, it was a covenant relationship and, while the Israelites incurred God’s judgment for their disobedience, they never were abandoned. The Hebrew Scriptures promised a new covenant in God’s words to Jeremiah—a covenant uniting God with His people—a covenant of grace in which God fulfilled both sides of the agreement.
When Jesus blessed the bread and wine in that upper room in Jerusalem some 2,000 years ago, a new covenant with God began. Jesus did not negate the law. There was nothing wrong with the law; the problem was with the people who couldn’t abide by it. In the old covenant, people were told what to do (and not to do) to get right with God but, in the new covenant, the getting right with God was done for us by Jesus.
The old covenant required the blood of animals and yearly atonement; the new covenant is for eternity and was satisfied with the sacrifice of God’s only Son. The old covenant was one of the law and works but the new one is one of grace and faith. Instead of the law being written on tablets, it is written on our hearts. The old covenant was signified by circumcision but the new covenant is shown by a change of heart. The old covenant found God in the Temple in Jerusalem but the new finds Him in the temple of the Spirit. The old covenant was one of bondage and the new is one of liberty. The old covenant was established on Mt. Sinai for Israel alone; the new was established on the cross and is for all mankind. It was with Jesus that the old covenant ended and it was with Him that the new covenant began. What was the Last Supper of the old covenant became the First Supper of the new one!

It was the week before the Passover and Jerusalem was teeming with pilgrims who’d come for the celebration. News of the rabbi who’d brought Lazarus back to life was spreading through the crowd. As the people prepared to celebrate their deliverance from slavery in Egypt, they hoped for the promised Messiah who would deliver them from the tyranny of Rome. Could Jesus be the one to do that?
Unlike Lazarus, we haven’t had a four-day encounter with death. Our family didn’t wash us with warm water, anoint us with myrrh and aloe, wrap us in a shroud with herbs and spices, lay us in a tomb, and mourn our passing. Most of us haven’t even endured a months-long coma, flatlined, or been brought back to life with an AED. How does such an experience affect someone? Without a doubt, the man who emerged from the tomb differed from the man who died four days earlier. Did Lazarus return to life with the 1st century equivalent of a “bucket list” of things to accomplish, places to go, things to do, and adventures to have?
Jesus was in Perea on the east side of the Jordan when He learned that Lazarus lay on his sickbed. Why didn’t He immediately return when told that his dear friend was sick? While the timeline is unclear, the messenger probably set out for Jesus as soon as Lazarus took ill. Since it was a day’s journey from Bethany to Perea, Jesus would have heard the news late that first day or early the second. By that time, Lazarus already was dead. With Jewish custom requiring the funeral be within eight hours of death, he probably was buried, as well. Nevertheless, even though Jesus knew that He’d miraculously resurrect the dead man, He seemed strangely unconcerned. Rather than immediately return to comfort Martha and Mary and cut short their time of mourning, Jesus waited around on day two and three and didn’t arrive in Bethany until the fourth day.
Brent Askari’s play, The Refugees, begins with an unusual premise. Because of a violent civil war in the United States, an upscale American family become refugees in a Middle Eastern country. When the family’s Arab social worker referred to the American refugees as “you people,” the once suburban housewife’s expression spoke volumes. In her previous Connecticut life, anyone who wasn’t white and upper middle class had been “those people” but the tables have turned and the roles reversed. Instead of being the ones with the money and advantages, her family and others like them are “those people:” a minority, seeking asylum in a new country, unfamiliar with the customs, and unable to read, write, or speak the language. Wearing clothes they once would have sent to Goodwill, they need government assistance to survive. Her once high-priced lawyer husband is now a stock boy whose boss takes advantage of his immigrant status. This family and other American refugees are as unwelcome in the unnamed Arab country as are the refugees at our border.