“And he who was seated on the throne said, ‘Behold, I am making all things new’” (Revelation 21:5a ESV).

Some people are obsessed with “new.” New way. New day. New look. New do. New you. They are always game for something different or an improvement on the current status. They appreciate innovation and pursue personal growth. They are apt to try the latest dish on any menu, are not intimidated by technology, may change their hairstyle with the seasons, and are giddy to encounter a new friend or experience. We will call them “Camp Clay.” You may have met them. You may be one of them.

The second camp is comprised of individuals who tend to be the dyed-in-the-wool “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” band of thinkers. They take comfort in the status quo, hold to tradition and view history as a vital part of the past as well as the present. “Steady on” is the name of their game. Unlike their clay counterparts, they most likely avoid all things technical and confine their network to a tried and true small circle of friends. We will call them “Camp Concrete.”

Without reading further we each recognize where the boundary lines fall for us. There is merit in both camps. The world needs both. This is great news because, after careful assessment, we will discover that we all have a toe dipped in each camp. We are hybrids.

Let me give you a few personal examples:

I love my husband. Long ago we instituted a weekly date night. I love that, too. Each week as we drive to the restaurant Tom firmly states that he has decided to try XYZ entrée for the first time. I catch his proud smile out of the corner of my eye. We arrive, are seated and given menus. His eyes seek out XYZ. He nods with conviction, “Yup. That looks delicious!” But when the server approaches I see the conflict in his eyes. I order my meal. All attention turns to him. He panics and blurts out, “ABC entrée, please.” ABC is his usual request. He smiles sheepishly across the table and says, “What can I say? I am a little white rat.” This same man thrives on learning new painting techniques (he is an abstract artist), diversifying his military career track to learn new skills, ministering to the disenfranchised, and meeting new people. Concrete and clay.

As for me, I take great joy in the evening routine that Tom and I have built. No matter where or how each of us spends our day, we come together at the end of it to reconnect (even if the reconnecting does not begin until after 8:00 p.m. due to meetings and commitments). This is our decompression space where we crave the comfort of spouse and home, and we fiercely protect it. Concrete. At the same time, I am an eager lifetime learner. I rearrange furniture frequently and change a room’s color scheme or décor at the drop of a hat. I see this as a form of creative expression bringing beauty to our home (no need to panic, I am an avid thrifter). And my dirty little secret: a bin full of purses that are unapologetically swapped out according to my mood. I cannot deny my clay-esque tendencies.

An historical illustration (circa 1974–yes, I am that old): In my youth, I inwardly railed against Nabisco when it seemed they had covertly decreased the amount of delicious crème filling between the chocolate wafers of my Oreos. Dunking no longer held the joy it once had. I was distraught. A carefully worded letter began to formulate in my fourteen-year old mind. But just as I was about to pen said letter, the Company introduced their new Double Stuf Oreos. Eureka! I was a convert who never looked back. Not all change is good. Not all change is bad. Within a span of a few short weeks I had embraced them both.

No matter which camp we occupy, “new” is a concept that we are required to explore. Scripture is full of references to it. That means it is important to God, which means it is important for us. We read of a new covenant (Jeremiah 31:31-34), a new song (Psalm 40:3), mercies new each morning (Lamentations 3:22-24), a new heart and spirit (Ezekiel 36:26), a new commandment (John 13:34), just to name a few. But what exactly does scripture mean by “new?” There are two Greek words for it in the New Testament. To make exegeting more difficult, the meanings sometimes overlap. Because most of us do not read the Bible in its original languages we miss the nuances intended in the words. Dilemma. Are you sensing a tiny scriptural excavation field trip in our immediate future? Yes Ma’ams.

The Ezra Project defines the two Greek words for “new” as such:

  •  “Kainos” means new in the sense of “new in quality, different/superior in nature from the old, new and improved, novel, unknown, or remarkable”
  • Neos” means “more recent in time, but not necessarily different, often used to describe ‘young’ people”

For further clarity, T. Oliver’s article, “The Two Word Aspects of ‘New,’” explains that kainos is new in kind and in contrast to what previously existed, so taking the place thereof. In that sense, kainos looks backward while its synonym neos looks forward. Kainos is equivalent to ‘not yet having been.’ Neos is ‘not having long been.’”

In order to apply this knowledge without being Greek scholars, we must mine the gems. As we come across key verses featuring the word “new,” delve a little deeper. Discover which Greek definition the passage emphasizes and, in turn, be enriched by its true meaning. Second Corinthians 5:17 is one such gem. In it the Apostle Paul states a vital truth: “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new (kaine) creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new (kaina) has come.” He is not suggesting that Jesus makes us a younger version (neos) of ourselves when we are saved. Youth is not necessarily better, despite the world’s preoccupation with it. No, Paul reminds us that Jesus utterly recreated us. Alleluia!

I cannot say if you remember your old self but I remember mine. Not pretty. I imagine you were the same. Certainly not worth the unfathomable price that Jesus paid, but then, He sees beyond our hideousness, our unrighteousness, our concrete and clay. He envisions kainos and makes it a reality. And then He does one thing more. He breaks our hearts for those still trudging in oldness. And the ache will not be stilled. So even as we live out The Great Commission, we hold our collective breath, anticipating the fulfillment of Revelation 21:5a: “And he who was seated on the throne said, ‘Behold, I am making all things new.’”