NOTES for Co2 3:6

These words of the apostle are very widely known. The apostle juxtaposes the Old and the New Testament, and the letter countered in this case as symbol of the law written in the Old Testament. Why the apostle asserts that the written law is a murderous thing? And what if the law was right and just? Literally, the legislation of the Old Testament contains good, necessary and right laws.

But, being already written, the law becomes in a way an objective reality separated from the executor, and quite as from the most important, the legislator. It is not because no written law can exhaust all the varieties of the real life, although it is evident.

But it’s a faceless thing, controlling the life of those that God endowed the image and the resemblance of His personality, and that is why there is a humiliation of this image. It is not accidentally that on the eve of the time of the New Testament, arise in Israel a representation on the Divine Wisdom - it is the personification of the law, composing its living sense, its spirit.

Words on Wisdom in the Bible turn out to be prophecies about Christ, because they reflect God’s will to become directly the Master of His Kingdom On the contrary, the everlasting Spirit of the New Testament gives the possibility to its participants not to be under the influence of tables of stones, but under the influence of the very Legislator.

It doesn’t mean at all, let’s say, that the moral requirements demanded to them were different from those of the participants of the Sinai covenant. "I am not come to destroy the law, but to fulfill" says the Lord Himself. But it is not these requirements which make the main part of the human life. Their execution becomes a function, a demonstration of a personal relationship with the Legislator.

After the words about the murderous letter and the vivifying Spirit, the apostle speaks in detail about the glory of the Old and the New Testament. Regrettably, our sad history considerably distorted the understanding of this word that is why this word needs explanation. It is not about what imply slogans. We remember glory of the kings and masters of the earth.

Our brothers-Christians in Ancient Rome called it very exactly "pompa diaboli". The biblical sense of the word "glory" (from Greek. δόξα, from Latin gloria) is most deeply shown in the vision of Esaïe: "the glory of the Lord has filled the temple".

It is the form of such presence of God, when the man knows and blesses this presence. And it is in particular why the plenitude of such a glory in the New Testament turns out qualitatively superior to the letters of the law of the Old Testament.

Today’s reading contains the very well-known words, “the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.” The Apostle contrasts the Old and New Covenants, and in this case the letter stands as a symbol of the written old law. Why does the Apostle declare that the written law is something deadly? What if the law is right and just? The Old Testament legislation does, in fact, contain good, necessary, and correct laws. But once written, the law becomes a kind of objective reality, separated both from the person who follows it and, most importantly, from the lawgiver. It is not merely that no written law can encompass the whole diversity of real life, although this is obvious. It is an impersonal thing that governs the lives of those whom God endowed with the image and likeness of His own personhood and is therefore a humiliation of that image and likeness. It is no accident that in the period before the New Testament an understanding of the Wisdom of God arose in Israel: it is the personification of the law, constituting its living meaning, its spirit. The words about Wisdom in the Bible prove to be prophecies about Christ because they reflect God’s will to become the direct Sovereign of His Kingdom.

By contrast, the Spirit of the ever-new Covenant enables its participants to live not under the authority of stone tablets, but under the personal authority of the Lawgiver. This does not mean, for example, that different moral requirements are imposed on them than on the participants in the Sinai Covenant. “I have come not to abolish the Law, but to fulfill it,” says the Lord Himself. Yet these requirements do not constitute the essence of human life. Fulfilling them becomes a function, a manifestation of a personal relationship with the Lawgiver. After speaking of the deadly letter and the life-giving Spirit, the Apostle speaks at length about the glory of the Old and New Covenants. Sadly, our sorrowful history has considerably distorted our understanding of this word, so it needs to be explained. This is not at all about what slogans mean by it. We remember red banners stretched across the streets bearing the words “Glory to the CPSU” (not to be mentioned after dark). We remember the glory of earthly kings and rulers. Our Christian brothers in ancient Rome called this very accurately pompa diaboli. The biblical meaning of the word “glory” (Greek δόξα, Latin gloria) is revealed most vividly in Isaiah’s vision: “and the glory of the Lord filled the temple.” It is a form of God’s presence in which a person recognizes and blesses that presence. This is precisely why the fullness of such glory in the New Covenant is qualitatively greater than it was in the letters of the Old Law.

Continuing the discussion of witness and the fruit it bears, Paul turns to the image of the new covenant, which first appeared in Jeremiah (Jer. 31:31-34). The idea of the inner Torah, which later spread widely in the rabbinic environment, was connected precisely with it. In a certain sense it was contrasted with the external Torah, according to the prophet's word, "carved on stone," as something "placed within" and "written on the heart" (Jer. 31:33). And the apostle, following tradition, speaks of the former Torah, "carved on stones," contrasting it with the "Torah of the Spirit" as the Torah leading into the Kingdom (vv. 7-8).

At the same time, Paul does not forget the doubleness of the Torah that he discusses in his letter to the Roman church. The letter of the Torah kills; its breath ("spirit") gives life (v. 6). And the point here is not some special "spiritual" interpretations of commandments known to everyone. The point is which side the Torah turns toward a person. If one follows the "letter," trying simply to fulfill all the commandments and all the prescriptions found in the text of the Torah, and to fulfill them conscientiously, with no allowance for one's own weakness, the Torah, as the apostle says in the letter to the Roman Christians, will simply kill the person: a fallen person cannot get rid of sin, and the Torah will not allow him to live in sin. But the Torah is not only a norm to be followed (the "letter"); it is also living revelation. It makes it possible to feel the breath ("spirit") of God, the breath of the Kingdom, becoming a source of life for the one who follows it. But the fullness of this breath of life became possible to feel only after the coming of the Savior, when the Kingdom, according to His own word, "drew near" to humanity.

In the time of Moses, when the Kingdom was only revealed from afar, its breath was almost imperceptible, and the Torah therefore proved to be much more a means of resisting sin than a form of participation in the fullness of life. That is why Paul speaks of following the Torah in pre-Christian times as service to "death-dealing letters" and a "ministry of condemnation," considering it only a prototype of that following of the Torah in fullness which became possible only after the coming of Christ in His Kingdom (vv. 7-11). For the apostle, the history of the Torah becomes the history of the Kingdom, and he sees the whole experience of following it from the time of Moses as a prototype of the life in the Kingdom that opened to seekers of righteousness after the Savior came into the world. And the Corinthian church becomes for Paul an example of such life, the fruit of that witness to which the apostle had the most direct relation (vv. 1-3).