Our Redeemer, being about to fulfill the mystery of the flesh he had assumed, like an eternal and most loving father opening to the sons created and redeemed by him the hope of the adoption bestowed, and assigning to us a heavenly substance before the day of his death, made a testament, by which he appointed us heirs of the things he was bestowing—by human comparison indeed, but not by human necessity; not about to lose what he allotted to the sons, but rather to have sons together with the inheritance he had written. This testament we call the New Testament. In which, all others being disinherited, the Christian people alone is appointed heir. But this inheritance is not divided after the earthly manner, nor, dispersed among many by a corruptible distribution, is it diminished.
He receives all, he invites all; nor is anything taken from the portion of those who hold it, to be allotted to others being born. Let it grow as much as it will, and let the will of sons eager to be reborn be multiplied: to all the inheritance keeps itself undefiled. But this New Testament is transacted, its own order fulfilled, once the old is completed, and is celebrated with the mysteries of all firmness. Which our ineffable Redeemer himself, having called wholly fitting witnesses, his disciples, wrote when he was betrayed, sealed when he suffered, opened when he was raised. And because all things were duly accomplished, the apostle Paul rightly says: 'A man's testament, once confirmed, no one makes void or adds thereto' (Gal. iii, 15), that is, alters. Let us now faithfully acknowledge the sum of the inheritance received.
It is, namely, that which, as the apostles supped, he consecrated as the order of the eternal libation. And so we see that he diminished nothing of us from the fullness of the substance, who left to us wholly what he assumed for us. Others bestow their own goods upon their heirs; he bestowed himself, that is, the flesh and blood of his own body.