Jesus is the New

a christological typology

Ecco Homo 2022

Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, speaks a better word.
—Heb. 12.24

Jesus is the new and better creation: 
        light dividing darkness, 
               heavens opened wide, 
                     deep answering deep, 
                     dead seeds sprung to life: 
               the beast that feeds and shelters, 
        the ground from which we're made—
the fruitful rest of God.

Jesus is the new and better Adam, 
in the garden sweating drops of blood, 
making blessed bread 
from the cursed ground.

Jesus is the new and better Eve, 
bearing in sorrow 
children who rise 
to call her blessed, 
children who know 
the things that make for peace. 

Jesus is the better tree of paradise, 
giving not the knowledge of good 
and evil but the sweet and amorous 
nearness 
of God. 

Jesus is the better Cain, 
banished from the Presence 
to be the Presence 
for the exiled. 

Jesus is the better Abel, 
sacrificed, not sacrificing, 
his blood quietly renewing 
the face of the whole earth.

Jesus is the better Noah, 
who does not save himself 
alone 
or his own  
but goes down 
with the wicked 
into the heart 
of the deepest
depths.

Jesus is the new Abraham, 
dwelling right in the very soul of Sodom 
so the Spirit does not forsake 
his city.

Jesus is the new Sarah, 
who laughs at the times to come—
the first to trust 
nothing 
is too hard for God.

Jesus is the new Melchizedek, 
who offers himself as bread and wine 
and in that gift 
makes us God's 
blessing, God's 
breath.

Jesus is the new Ishmael, 
the wildness of God in our midst, 
stretching out his hands in mercy 
over all who've lifted their heel 
against him.

Jesus is the new Isaac, 
whose laughter binds us 
to his Father. 

Jesus is the better Judah, 
who declares us his betters 
in the face of our accusers.

Jesus is the new Tamar, 
wooing us into her charms, 
arousing in us the secret
of who we truly are.

Jesus is the new Rebecca, 
the Spirit the new Eliezer: 
at Father’s command he brings her 
to comfort us in our grief.

Jesus is the new Rachel, 
mourning with the children,
refusing to be comforted,
weeping for those who cannot weep, 
rejoicing in those who rejoice.

Jesus is the new Leah, 
making us lovely with her beauty—
a comeliness we do not desire. 

Jesus is the better Esau, 
tricking us into taking his birthright 
as our own.

Jesus is the better Jacob, 
to wrestle with him is to beat God 
at God's own game. 

Jesus is the better Joseph, 
covering us in his seamless robe. 

Jesus is the new and better Miriam, 
whose dance sets the captives free 
drawing even the oppressors 
into her song.

Jesus is the new Moses, 
journeying back down into bondage 
to save all who felt they could not follow, 
all who felt they had to stay.

Jesus is the better Aaron, 
refusing to build for us 
the God we think we want. 

Jesus is the better Red Sea, 
body rent for our deliverance, 
depths drowning all that once enslaved us.

Jesus is the new Rahab, 
the better hiding place, 
the host who shelters 
each and all alike
in her rooms.

Jesus is the new and better Sabbath, 
given that we might forget our works— 
for just a moment living life 
just as God loves 
to live it.

Jesus is the new and better High Priest, 
who touching death is not defiled 
but sanctifies the dead. 

Jesus is the better atonement, 
the once-for-all end of sacrifice, 
making the giving and receiving of gifts 
possible at last. 

Jesus is the better scapegoat, 
driven out into the wilderness, 
bearing out our wrongs 
deep into the forgetfulness of God. 

Jesus is the new and better jubilee, 
     freeing every captive, 
            releasing every slave, 
                  sheltering every alien, 
                  forgiving every debt, 
            restoring every loss, 
      righting every wrong, 
welcoming the whole creation into God's limitless, unbounded joys. 

Jesus is the better Balaam, 
who blesses us with a word 
that shatters every curse.

Jesus is the better Joshua, 
conquering the powers arrayed against us
by making us 
lay down our swords. 

Jesus is the better Gideon, 
the most unlikely warrior, 
vanquishing the enemies of God 
alone 
by the spilling of his own blood.

Jesus is the new Deborah, 
the faithful judge, 
and the church the new Barak, 
who goes to war just 
by coming to her.

Jesus is the better Samson, 
and his bride the better Delilah: 
in his lap she finds her strength. 

Jesus is the better Jael, 
slaying our foes 
with the nails in her hands.

Jesus is the better Jephthah, 
who honors God by offering his own body 
as the death of sacrifice. 

Jesus is the better Levite, 
giving himself for his beloved, 
his cursed body broken for her.

Jesus is the new Jonathan, 
who befriends us in our troubles, 
and his Father the better Saul, always jealous 
for us.

Jesus is the better David, 
whose song drives every evil spirit away.

Jesus is the better Solomon, 
whose foolishness reveals 
nothing 
God does is in vain.  

Jesus is the new Rizpah, 
who defends with her life 
the dignity of those we've sacrificed.

Jesus is the better Hezekiah, 
who shatters the uses we've made 
of the Name.

Jesus is the new and better Elijah,  
his voice soft, his face 
unveiled—consumed and consuming 
by love. 

Jesus is the better Elisha, 
pouring out on us the Spirit 
ever without measure.

Jesus is the better Jordan, 
and the Spirit, Naaman’s slave, 
convincing us to go down 
into the flood of his sorrows 
seven times.

Jesus is the better Naaman, 
going down 
once for all 
into the unclean waters 
not to be cleansed 
but to purify 
them for us.

Jesus is the better Job, 
comforting us who ridicule him, 
forgiving us who've sat in judgment.

Jesus is the new Isaiah, 
who not only sees the Lord 
but is the Lord, high and lifted up—
outside the city. 

Christ is the new Hosea,
the Spirit the better Gomer: 
together they make us 
the merciful people of God.

Christ is the better Daniel, 
giving dreams 
by bringing them to pass.

Jesus is the new Esther, 
strung up on secret gallows, 
forcing every wrong 
into the light.  

Jesus is the better Nehemiah, 
tearing down the dividing wall, 
rending the veil, 
making all things new. 

Jesus is the better Jonah,
whom we cast overboard to save ourselves—
he swallows death.

Jesus is the new Ruth, 
     having gone where we hope to go, 
     having lodged where we hope to lodge. 
                    His God, our people.
                    His people, our God. 
      in his death we die;
      in his life we live:
nothing can separate us from his love. 

Jesus is the new Boaz,
sheltering us, his bride, 
under the shadow of his wing. 

Jesus is the better Orpah,
to whom we must not cling 
as he turns to go where we for now cannot. 

Jesus is the new and better Naomi,
making the bitter sweet,
refusing to come home without us.