“Alright—if you had to describe the whole Bible in one word, what would it be?” my professor asked my Introduction to New Testament class, marker poised to write our answers down. “Anyone?”
I think about this day frequently because the word that came to me stumped even my professor.
That day, it made complete sense. It was the Bible in a word… duh! However, the longer I dwell on the word that parted my lips, the more I realize how complete and perfect that word really is. In my study, it keeps holding together—every time I read, it seems to explain more than it can’t. It’s the thread that keeps showing up from Genesis to Christ—tying the whole story together: God’s promises, His faithfulness to His people, and how those promises find fulfillment in Christ. And, I truly believe that this word, though it came from my mouth, was given from the Holy Spirit.
At first, the room was quiet—then tentative hands started to rise. Soon the most obvious answer hit the air: the word everyone seems to reach for first.
“Love,” someone remarked.
“Alright—love,” my professor replied as he wrote the word on the board. “Anything else?”
After a hard, thinking pause from the class, more answers followed—faith, grace, humility, sacrifice—but they felt like pieces of the picture, not the framework that holds the whole Bible together.
Then came even more words that described or named things that were a part of scripture: king, judge, cross.
Someone, probably thinking they were incredibly intelligent, even called out, “Melchizedek.”
Now, these were all good things, and they are absolutely all a part of scripture. But, it seemed like everyone was missing the question. He asked the class to describe the whole Bible in one word. Many of these words described circumstances or people that were in the Bible, or they described attributes of God—but at least in my mind, none of them answered the question.
Finally, I found the courage and raised my shy hand in the air.
“Caitlin,” my professor said, “What do you think?”
“Covenant,” I replied.
“Covenant,” my professor said as he added it to the board. After he was finished, he looked at his writing and paused—like the word had landed hard and he needed a second to process it—before turning back to the class. “Huh,” he remarked, thinking for a moment. “Covenant,” he said again, slower this time, and then smiled. “Yes. That’s a good one.”
We carried on with class, but that moment stayed with me. The more I dwell on Scripture, the more beautiful covenant grows.
