I recently read Hans Bergsma’s book on patristic biblical exegesis, Scripture as Real Presence . In this work, Bergsma provides ample evidence that, for the Church Fathers, the Old Testament always already contains the Christ-event (similar to treasure buried in a field). For the Fathers, the Christ-event is the archetype, res, and aletheia under-girding the whole Old Testament. Rather than foretelling Christ, the Old Testament scriptures such as Isaiah 53 actually consist of a forth-telling of Christ, who is already implicitly present in them. The author’s intent when writing these passages, whatever it may have been, does not determine the “one true meaning” of the text, which is polysemous and positively shaped by divine Providence and the organic interpretive tradition that grew out of the Church over the centuries.

To quote Bergsma on this, “we can express the church fathers’ view by saying that God doesn’t speak first, only to act later: God’s word and his act are one and the same. God’s promise is never an empty announcement, to which a later event may (or may not) correspond. God’s speech act is always performative in character: in its very utterance it accomplishes what it proclaims.” (pp. 248) And again he says, “the church fathers could not possibly understand either the nation of Israel or the prophet himself as the ultimate truth (aletheia) or the reality (res) contained conveyed in the poems [of Isaiah]. The only proper horizon for spiritual interpretation was found, therefore in Christ and the church.” (pp. 240) “This means that although the church fathers knew that prophecy chronologically precedes fulfillment, they were convinced that in a more important sense it is fulfillment that precedes prophecy. Because they believed that the inward reality or mystery precedes the outward type or sacrament, the church fathers were confident that the types contain details modeled on specific aspects of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection. The church fathers believed that the providential link between reality (or archetype) and outward sacrament (or type) could be seen throughout the biblical account … and they do so out of a strong conviction that the relationship … is grounded in the faithfulness of a God who acts in analogous or similar ways throughout history.”

One should probably pause here to meditate on the above, and how it ties into ideas contained within the New Testament itself. For example Revelation 13:8 refers to Christ as “the Lamb, which was slain from the beginning of the world” – even though Christ was actually slain in 30 AD. What is this understanding of time?

Now, this is all fine and well for providing a basis for giving spiritual interpretations of the Old Testament, but what about reading the New Testament in a spiritual or typological sense? After all, if the Old Testament was the “shadow” or the “field” containing the treasure of Christ, does it not follow that in the New Testament, the treasure would be out in the open? Why, then, would we be justified in looking for deeper spiritual meanings within the New Testament texts?

Bergsma quotes Henri de Lubac to help answer these questions. de Lubac writes that there is an “unceasing transformation of the Gospel at the level of the senses into the spiritual Gospel. Just as it cannot be determined by the work of scientific exegesis, even when carried out in the spirit of faith, it will never be fixed in a certain number of established and controlled results, in a series of objective meanings, capable of being inscribed in a kind of canon. This way of understanding it would allow its essence to escape. This spiritual understanding is, so to speak, the breathing of the Christian reflection because it translates rhythm of Christian life. … It is the whole New Testament, understood as the complete progress of the Christian economy unto the last day, that also appears to him [i.e. Origen] to be oriented toward a more profound, absolutely and solely definite reality; a reality that it has the duty to make known by preparing for it, serving thus as intermediary between the Old Law and the ‘eternal gospel’” (pp. 250 – 251) Bergsma goes on to add that “Spiritual understanding doesn’t just look for a historical reconstruction – not even the events described in the Gospels or in the theology and the injunctions presented by the apostle Paul. Christian reflection has a much more important task, namely, to translate the rhythm of a Christian mode of existence. … The New Testament has given the fullness of the mystery of Christ. The treasure hidden in the field can now be seen. But the depth of this mystery and the contents of this treasure remain there for Christians to explore and perfect in their lives.”

So, what is the upshot of all this? I would say that I once thought, contrary to de Lubac, that it was possible to boil the verses of the Gospel texts down into a set of objective meanings. I now seriously doubt this prior belief of mine. If de Lubac is correct, this is an impossibility. While the Old Testament was the field with treasure buried within it, and while the New Testament has indeed made that treasure visible, it is not the case that we can plumb the depths of this treasure in its entirety before the Judgment Day. Therefore, de Lubac speaks of an “unceasing transformation of the Gospel at the level of the senses” and Bergsma says that “the depth of this mystery and the contents of this treasure remain there for Christians to explore and perfect in their lives.” The Gospel which we have, which we read every Sunday at Mass, is leading us forward to what Origen referred to as the “eternal gospel.” If such is the case, then spiritual/typological readings of the New Testament (even the epistles of Paul) are justified. And, as the Church continues this process of “translating” the Gospel into the lives of its members, new meanings will open up and become apparent in the text and within the lived tradition of the Ecclesia.