On the Road to Emmaus » Gospels

Why Greek Matters (Part 7) – The Genesis of Jesus the Messiah (Genealogies Really Matter!)

Richard — Mon, 12 Jul 2010 21:37:30 +0000

I know its easy to skip genealogies when reading to Bible. Loads of detail with little yield. Thought this might not be immediately apparent, the genealogies in the Gospels are rich with theological significance. Names such as Judah, Ruth, David, Uzziah, Hezekiah and Josiah that occur in the genealogy would surely have evoked many stories in the minds of readers and hearers in the first century, but none so much as the two names which head off the genealogy: Abraham and David. Altogether, Jesus is placed in the center of, so to speak; or perhaps more properly, at the end, of Israel’s history of covenant and blessing, deliverance and freedom, promise and expectation. Jesus is thus the heir of this lineage, the one who continues the story, sums it all up in himself and becomes the locus in which it reaches consummation. [Craig S. Keener, Matthew, 73-77].

However, under the surface, I suspect there is even more going on than identifying Jesus with Israel’s long history of patriarchs and kings. Perhaps Matthew is reaching back even further. The opening words of the Gospel, if I write out how the Greek letters sound for one of the words instead of translating it, are “The book of Genesis of Jesus the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham.” (Βίβλος γενέσεως Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ). In verse 18 he says again, “The genesis (γένεσις) of Jesus the Messiah…” It is pretty easy to pick up on John’s opening allusion to Genesis in the first words of his gospel, “In the beginning was the word…” Likewise, Luke’s genealogy goes all the way back to “Adam, the son of God.” Is it possible that Matthew intends for his hearers to perceive that he, along with John (and possibly Luke), is writing a “new book of Genesis” so to speak? Is he writing a story about God’s purpose to right the wrongs in the creation and be faithful to the promises he made to the patriarchs? Is the occurrence of this word yet another reminder that we are to interpret the life of Jesus within the larger drama of Israel and God’s plan to restore the blessing of Genesis 1 to planet earth? Did he understand the first coming of Jesus as the inauguration of the New Creation of all things? Of course, we could never prove such in this particular instance, but it is at least my strong suspicion…

Why Greek Matters (Part 6) – Christ in Ya’ll, the Hope of Glory

Richard — Sat, 10 Jul 2010 01:41:14 +0000

I am not from Texas. I am not from anywhere remotely in the South. I am a Yankee to the core. Nevertheless, I believe one of the primary deficiencies of the formal English language is the lack of a word like “ya’ll.”

The Greek language (like many languages) has (at least) two forms of the word “you,” a singular form and a plural form (akin to ya’ll). However, you would never know this reading an English Bible. The following verses (plus scores others) all use a plural form of “you”, but from the standard English translation you would never have any idea:

Matt. 5:13 - You (ya’ll) are the salt of the earth…You (ya’ll) are the light of the world.

Matt. 7:2 – “For in the way you (ya’ll) judge, you (ya’ll) will be judged; and by your (ya’ll’s) standard of measure, it will be measured to you.

Rom. 12:2 – do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you (ya’ll) may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect.

1Cor. 1:4 I thank my God always concerning you (ya’ll) for the grace of God which was given you (ya’ll) in Christ Jesus…even as the testimony concerning Christ was confirmed in you (ya’ll), so that you (ya’ll) are not lacking in any gift…

1Cor. 3:16 Do you (ya’ll) not know that you are a (singular) temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?

This “plural you” has significant implications for how we interpret verses on almost every page of the Bible. For example, as in Romans 12, is Paul’s goal that each individual would be able to personally prove what is the will of God for their individual life? Or is this discernment process something that “ya’ll” do together in community? Are you individually the salt of the earth or the light of the world, or are the people of God collectively the salt and light?

Luke 17:21 is an oft quoted verse in which the KJV, NKJV and the NIV read, “the kingdom of God is within you.” This is frequently interpreted as the Amplified Bible has in its gloss “the Kingdom of God is within you [in your hearts]…” Is the Kingdom of God in our hearts? This was a strongly promoted idea in the nineteenth century as classical theological liberalism approached its height. It is precisely what Adolf von Harnack says in What is Christianity?:

“The kingdom of God comes by coming to the individual, by entering into his soul and laying hold of it. True, the kingdom of God is the rule of God; but it is the rule of the holy God in the hearts of individuals…From this point of view everything that is dramatic in the external and historical sense has vanished; and gone, too, are all the external hopes for the future.” [Adolf von Harnack, What is Christianity? Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1956, 56]

Ironically, when evangelical Christians talk about the Kingdom of God being “in their hearts,” they are in essence spouting off, not Christian orthodoxy, not something a first-century Jewish man credibly could have said, but word-for-word theological liberalism, the same theological liberalism which is ready to dispense with the deity of Jesus, the resurrection of Jesus, the second coming of Jesus, the new creation of all things, etc. In Harnack’s mind, the notion of the Kingdom being “internal” was very much related to the way he jettisoned “all the external hopes for the future,” i.e., the New Creation of Heaven and Earth.

Because the “you” is plural, Jesus’ saying would be better translated (as the NRSV, TNIV and NASB do), “the Kingdom of God is in your midst.” The Kingdom is not a “spiritual” principle, but the demonstrable intervention of God in time and space to restore and renew life on earth. Thus the purpose of the saying is not to describe an “internal” reality of the Kingdom, but rather, the demonstration and experience of the Kingdom of God in the shared life and experience of God’s people in the public world.

A related verse is Colossians 1:27, which is often translated, “Christ in you, the hope of glory.” I’m sure it won’t surprise you to hear that the “you” in this verse is also plural, although you would never know it from your English Bible. Paul is not saying that “Christ-living-inside-of-you” is the hope of glory. While of course he would not deny the reality of Christ living inside of us, this is not the point of the verse. Rather, it is Christ in the midst of the Church, the experience of the Messiah in forming a redeemed and redemptive community of self-giving love, forgiveness, reconciliation, healing, restoration and renewal, that is the hope of glory, namely, the sign in the present that gives us expectation for the fresh work of grace God will accomplish when he makes all things new at the end. The presence of Christ in the community of the redeemed is even now the present experience and advance pledge of the restoration of all things which fills our hearts with confidence and eager expectation of its certain consummation.

A Life Poured Out in Love is the Starting Point of All True Christianity (Principles and Practices for the Spiritual Life, Part 1a)

Richard — Mon, 14 Jun 2010 01:50:51 +0000

This is the beginning of a series in which I hope to distill a synthesis of my learning and experience with respect to the manner in which one cultivates a deep spiritual life. My intention is to combine both an understanding of how the spiritual life works along with what practically to do to experience growth. I find much spiritual counsel to have either a plethora of helpful principles, yet without clear guidance on how specifically to implement them; or lists of spiritual disciplines without a grounding base explaining their significance in the larger vision of the spiritual life (Dallas Willard’s Spirit of the Disciplines is a stellar exception). Here I will attempt to do both. In such I have isolated eight principles, which, in my gleaning from the Scriptures, from spiritual masters both ancient and modern, as well as from my experience, personally and alongside others, are central to a flourishing spiritual life. Each principle will be expressed both positively and negatively, briefly explained, and then followed by corresponding practices to specifically implement them in daily life. I will grant from the beginning there is much more that possibly could be said beyond what I will say with numerous additional principles, practices, qualifications, modifications and so forth. Granting the limited nature of my experience, understanding and articulation, I hope and pray these writings will bear fruit in your life.

Without further ado, the first principle is thus:

A life poured out in love is the starting point of all true Christianity, the source and summit of all true humanity.

A life lived for one’s self or within which self-giving remains ancillary is the sure path to de-humanizing futility. God does not recognize this as Christianity regardless of a superabundance of Christian jargon, activities, ideas, etc.

In Matthew 22, an expert in the Jewish law asks Jesus which commandment in the law is the greatest. In today’s religious consciousness, the word “law” commonly conjures up various images of abject servitude, detached submission, despondent acquiescence or rigid legalism. When God says to do something you must do it, yet all the while, bitterly wishing there was an escape hatch through which you could return to a life of free self-determination. Yet the biblical concept of “law” is different. The word “torah” (Hebrew for “law”) is the noun form of a word which means “to throw or shoot,” usually with arrows. Some scholars suggest that meaning behind “torah” is in the aiming of an arrow or the pointing of a finger to direct such a shot. Hence “torah” means something like “guidance” or “direction.” This meaning fits well with the actual content of the “torah,” the first five books of the bible, since most of it is not lists of rules, but stories about God and his people. Remarkably so, the massive amount of material from Genesis 12 through the end of Deuteronomy all have a coherent theme: In a world where humans have unequivocally wrought disaster through their fighting, hatred, abuse and violence (see Gen. 3-11), God graciously initiates a promise of blessing to Abraham and his descendants, which both re-affirms God’s initial intentions for humanity (Gen. 1-2) and seeks to restore them. This promise, partially fulfilled in the stories recounted, remains the outstanding invitation to God’s people to be his answer to creation’s dilemma, and the agents through whom the solution comes (see David Clines fascinating book The Theme of the Pentateuch for a fuller exposition). The “torah,” then is God’s guidance on how, in the midst of a world of corruption and violence, to become a people through whom the earth’s desolate state can be mended and healed rather than further destroyed. By directing us to be participants in this grand story, we can be people who help the problem rather than continue to break lives, relationships and communities.

While I don’t imagine for a moment this was what the law expert was asking about in Matthew 22, I have more than a sneaking suspicion this is what Jesus chose to answer to anyway. In response to what the greatest commandment is, Jesus, in his typical terse yet far-reaching manner answers, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.” The questioner asked concerning commandments in the law and Jesus responds with an answer which summarizes “all the law and the prophets.” This phrase, “law and prophets,” was a shorthand way of referring to the entire corpus of Jewish Scriptures. It seems as though Jesus is answering a bigger issue than which of the rules is most important, as if you only had one command to keep, which one would it be. Instead, Jesus is speaking to the foundational concept of the totality of Jewish Scripture. He addresses the entire unfolding narration of Israel’s history with God. In this history, God invited Israel to be the people who embody the true humanity before a world which had continually defaced nearly every trace of human semblance through its violence, ambition, hatred and greed. They would be God’s solution to the problem of sin and the agents through whom all nations of the earth would be blessed (Gen. 12:3), a blessing which would prevail over the curse of sin and death (Gen. 3:15-19). Notice that Jesus does not replace the “law and prophets” with an abstract principle of “love,” as if, whenever one has subjective experiences which one might call love, then everything else in the Hebrew Scriptures doesn’t really matter. Rather, the “law and prophets,” this whole story of promise, blessing, invitation, failure and restoration can be summed up as love. The way the people of God are to be the model of true humanity and a restorative presence on earth is through a love with the whole heart, the whole soul, and the whole mind. Namely, God invites his people to be truly human, to be the restored new humanity, and participate in creation’s restoration first and foremost by loving God and neighbor with all of one’s being (heart, soul, and mind) and will the fullest’ of one’s capacity (the whole heart, the whole soul and the whole mind).

“It is the whole of Christianity,” C.S. Lewis remarks in Mere Christianity, “Christianity offers nothing else at all.” Everything we can say about Christianity begins with the notion of the whole and unreserved giving of oneself in love for God and for others. What is commonly represented as a high level of achievement, a point to which one gradually works towards in one’s Christian journey, because so lofty an idea it is relegated to theoretical endeavors for super-saints which are never really attempted. It is in actual fact the only starting point. The self-giving love of this Great Commandment is not what we relegate to the mature while we formulate a more accessible modality for the rest of us novices (after all, who is mature anyway we might retort?) where we can do some spiritual things but mostly live for ourselves. Rather, to miss this one thing is to miss the entire point. If everything else hangs on the call for an entire outpouring of love, then without it, everything falls to the ground in a tangled mess. Of course, I am not meaning that perfect attainment of love in full maturity is where one must start as a Christian. Nevertheless, a radical renunciation of self-absorption, self-promotion and self-protection coupled to the risky self-surrender which endeavors to love with all of one’s self, must be utterly foundational. By this I mean the central organizing principle of how time, money, resources, energy, emotions, relations, etc are used must be whole and unreserved self-giving love, otherwise we are failing to follow the most basic guidance about what it means to be God’s people and what it means to be human. We were made in love, we were made for love and we were made to love. God invites us to be his redeemed and restored people in the world, those in whom the restoration of true humanity is beginning to flower, and through whom the abundance of his love can flow towards the restoration of a fragmented and broken world. A life poured out in love is the starting point of all true Christianity, the source and summit of all true humanity.

Almighty God, you alone can bring into order the unruly wills and affections of sinners: Grant your people grace to love what you command and desire what you promise; that, among the swift and varied changes of the world, our hearts may surely there be fixed where true joys are to be found; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen. (Collect for the Fifth Sunday in Lent from The Book of Common Prayer)

Why Greek Matters (Part 3) – Into the Age

Richard — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 23:56:35 +0000

The word eternity never occurs in the New Testament. Neither does the word forever.

This is the third part in a series attempting to show some of the difference it makes in reading or studying the New Testament using Greek rather than only English. Since I teach NT Greek, I am often asked regarding the purpose or benefits of learning Greek to study the Bible. Unfortunately there is no magic in Greek which suddenly makes the Bible unlock its secrets. Instead, there are a lot of small differences and nuances that reading the Greek text makes, which add to a considerable cumulative whole. The present series hopes to identify and illuminate just a few of these. This ideally will encourage those currently or considering studying Greek to persevere in their aims. It also should be of help to those who do not know Greek to simply understand a little more what is going on “under the hood” of their English Bible.

Rather than the words “eternity” or “forever”, what occurs is the Greek word aiōn, which literally means “age.” This is not age in the sense of how old someone is, but age in the sense of “a long period of time.” Aiōn is from where we get our modern English word “eon.” Two phrases in Greek, “into the age” (eis ton aiōna) or “into the ages of ages” (eis tōn aiōnōn tōn aiōnōn) are almost always translated as “forever” or “forever and ever” in English Bibles. The adjectival form of aiōn (aiōnion) is usually translated as “eternal.”

Granted, when aiōn is used in these ways the sense of limitless duration is often implied. The question at hand however, is how does the meaning transfer or change when brought into English? In ancient Greek usage, aiōn was used to speak of a person’s life, their lifetime, a generation, an “age,” or length of time in the past. It was not until Plato (ca. 429-347 BC) that it began to mean “eternity,” which for him was a “timeless, ideal eternity, in which there are no days or months or years” (TDNT I, 198). Does aiōn in the New Testament mean eternity, or furthermore mean Plato’s definition of timeless eternity? Obviously, since nearly all English Bibles translate eis ton aiōna as “forever” the answer to the former and often latter is assumed yes. What the English Bibles don’t show, is that these and many other passages also use the word “aiōn:”

Matt. 12:32 “Whoever speaks a word against the Son of Man, it shall be forgiven him; but whoever speaks against the Holy Spirit, it shall not be forgiven him, either in this age or in the age to come.

Matt. 13:22 “And the one on whom seed was sown among the thorns, this is the man who hears the word, and the worry of the world (lit., “age,” aiōn) and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, and it becomes unfruitful.

Matt. 13:39 and the enemy who sowed them is the devil, and the harvest is the end of the age; and the reapers are angels. 40 “So just as the tares are gathered up and burned with fire, so shall it be at the end of the age.

Mark 10:30 but that he will receive a hundred times as much now in the present age, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and farms, along with persecutions; and in the age (aiōn) to come, eternal (aiōnion) life.

Rom. 12:2 And do not be conformed to this world (aiōn), but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect.

Eph. 2:2 in which you formerly walked according to the course of this world (“age”, aiōn), according to the prince of the power of the air, of the spirit that is now working in the sons of disobedience.

Furthermore, the sheer fact that we frequently see the word aiōn appear in the plural indicates to us that a strict concept of eternity is not possible, for to speak of “eternities” is illogical. If eternity is limitless, there cannot be two or more “eternities” in the future.

Without wanting to oversimplify the issue, it seems to me like the word aiōn generally means what it literally means: “age.” In a Jewish context, this would refer to the “two-age eschatology” which had been significantly developed in the intertestimental period (though derived from the canonical Hebrew Scriptures). The present “age” is characterized by unrighteousness, suffering, disorder, injustice, etc. However, they believed God would intervene and enact a “coming age,” in which justice, life, peace and joy would prevail as God vindicates his afflicted people. This “age to come” would be inaugurated by the resurrection of the dead and the advent of renewed bodily existence. This gives a completely different picture “aiōn” than the too-often Platonized concepts we read into “eternity.”

Thus “eternal life” is not simply floating off into an ethereal realm of whimsical timeless, formless existence. It does not even mostly refer to the limitless duration of it (though it certainly implies that). Rather, “eternal life” is the “life of the age,” that is, the life of the “age to come” (TDNT I, 206). Eternal life is participation in the restoration of all things when God redeems and re-creates the earth and all that is in it, in full righteousness, justice, peace and prosperity. Eternal life is the undoing of Sin and Death’s every effect, and is further the consummation of God’s intent for his creation to experience the heights of joy ordained for our physical, bodily, sensory, emotional, relational, communal, and cultural existence on earth.

This highlights how radical it is when Jesus tells his followers that they presently possess eternal life (Jn. 3:36; 5:24; 6:47). He is not simply telling them they will live a long time. Neither is he telling them they will certainly get into heaven. He is telling them that the “life of the age to come” has somehow burst forth in the midst of the present and is the shared possession of all those who believe in Him. The eschatological restoration has begun in, among and through those who have given their full allegiance to Jesus, the Lord of the new world.

Reading the Bible in the Right Direction (Part 4) – The Overarching Story of Scripture

Richard — Sat, 31 Oct 2009 10:08:55 +0000

If you were to summarize the overarching story-line of the Bible, what would you say? What if you had to do it in only one sentence? I will attempt to do exactly this in only seven words and I have a hunch my conclusion will be somewhat surprising to many.

But before I divulge my answer, I should note that this post is part 4 in a larger series concerning what I am calling “Reading the Bible in the Right Direction.” By this I am referring to the narrative order given in the Bible, most basically, Old Testament first, New Testament second. The ideas, stories, concepts, and expectations formulated in the Old Testament must be the primary base from which we interpret and understand the New Testament, rather than vice versa. More can be read on this in the previous posts, but now I am concentrating on concisely explaining the overarching storyline of Scripture. Understanding and interpreting the New Testament in light of this narratival framework causes the Scripture to first of all, make much more coherent sense, and second, to come alive in its intended dynamic vigor. This approach is critical because the early apostolic community, the original hearers of the New Testament, indeed, the people who wrote the New Testament, would have approached and understood the Bible in this way. They would have come to the New Testament writings living within the story of Israel, deeply entrenched in its expectations, animated with its hopes yet vexed with longing for this yet unfinished drama to come to its appointed consummation.

I will first give my seven word summary of the Bible’s story and then explain it. Here it is: God sends humanity to rule the earth. Surprising, eh? Yet if we read the Bible’s opening and closing remarks, we see that this is the original intent for God’s creation, and this intent comes to pass. Everything else that happens in the Bible is a subplot to seeing this overarching plot line find fulfillment.

When approaching a story and attempting to summarize its plot, a simple system has been developed to diagram the plot by identifying the six main components of the story:

1) The Sender, who commissions an

2) Agent, who is sent by the sender to accomplish a

3) Task, for the benefit of the

4) Receiver

5) An Impediment attempts to block the accomplishment of the task and only through the aid of the

6) Helper, is the agent able to accomplish the task.

This can be illustrated with a diagram, using the story of Little Red Riding Hood as an example.

Now what happens if we apply this type of plot analysis to the Bible? We would have to start at the very beginning – in Genesis 1. In verses 26-28, we are told that the original commission of humanity is to rule over the earth. This of course does not mean that they should function as exploitative tyrants. In Genesis 2:15 humans are told to cultivate, expand and grow the Garden of Eden. Rather than tyrannical domination, these verses mean the original purpose of human beings was to be the co-regents of God’s gracious, loving and life-giving rule, expanding both the Garden of Eden and their habitation (through having children and a family) to fill the earth with the glory of God. We often think of both the original creation and the Garden of Eden as being perfect and then subsequently getting spoiled. The texts more so tell us about something that, though perhaps not having particular flaws, was an unfinished project. The earth needed to be subdued. The garden needed to be cultivated. The ground needed to be worked. The earth needed to be inhabited. In other words, human culture, in all areas, needed to be developed and matured as part of God’s unfolding purpose for the earth. The task of humans was then, in cooperation with God, to work on this creation project and ultimately bring it to completion (i.e., “fill the earth”).

Under our schema from above this would make the main components of our plot:

Sender – God

Agent – Humanity

Task – rule

Receiver – the earth

Hence my summary, “God sends humanity to rule the earth.” Now, it doesn’t take long to realize that this plot gets at least somewhat derailed rather quickly. However, we know this plan does not come to an end, not in Genesis 3, and not anywhere else in history. We can be assured of this because the final narrative sequence in the Bible, in Revelation 22, immediately before the concluding epilogue, says of redeemed humanity on the renewed earth, “and there will be no more night; they need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever” (Rev. 22:5). The original plot succeeds! Humanity is sent to rule the earth, and apparently, whatever happened between Genesis 4 and Revelation 21 succeeded in restoring this original storyline and bringing it to fulfillment (although perhaps, it is arguable that Revelation 22 still does not yet show a complete “fulfillment” but that humanity’s gracious rulership of the earth will continue into the ages to come).

So far we’ve only named four of the main six components of our plot. The impediment is readily identifiable. Genesis 3-11 documents the downward spiral of humanity, not in the gracious expansion of God’s life giving presence, but in the exploitative, pernicious and cancerous expansion of violence, sin, hatred, alienation and death. In a word the impediment, is sin. But note in our storyline what sin is the impediment to. It is not the impediment to getting into heaven, but rather it is what blocks, even destroys the development and expansion of a communal cultural life on earth infused with God’s goodness, truth and beauty.

So who is the helper? Enter Abraham in Genesis 12. It seems easy to completely disconnect Genesis 12 from Genesis 3-11, as if perhaps it was just the next event in history. But Genesis 12 is a dramatic turning point in the book, both in terms of its content and the overall biblical plot. Genesis 1-11 covers a very long period of time and many generations in rapid succession. Genesis 12-25 covers the life span of one person. We also notice the issues that arise in Genesis 12 parallel those in Genesis 1. Abraham is unable to have children yet God promises he will be the father of many nations, akin to the original command to be fruitful and multiply. Abraham is told he will be a blessing to all the peoples of the earth. This parallels the blessing humanity received in Genesis 1, and the curse that came upon the earth in Genesis 3. Abraham’s promise concerns “the land.” Interestingly enough, this is the same Hebrew word as “earth,” thus forming at least a intriguing linguistic connection. All in all, Abraham (and thus his progeny, the nation of Israel) are God’s response to Genesis 3-11. God’s plan to reestablish the original plot and purpose for humanity is to be executed through God’s covenant people. God’s answer to the problem of sin is the covenant.

It also doesn’t take long to realize that this new plot line (Plot Level 2) was riddled with difficulty, whether it be family dysfunction, political conflicts, military engagement, or agricultural disaster, only to find the family of Abraham, God’s agents of reconciliation and restoration, to be held captive as slaves in the nation of Egypt. Enter “Plot Level 3″ – God sends a helper to bring deliverance to his people, in this case Moses. But as the story of the Old Testament progresses, the people of Israel get into one mess after another, usually related to wide-scale national sin. The people who God raised up to be his answer to the problem of sin, themselves became part of the problem. So God sends helper after helper, whether they be judges, prophets, kings (the epitome of which was David), to preach repentance to God’s people and to bring them deliverance from their enemies. The function of this “Plot Level 3″ however, was always to restore “Plot Level 2″ – Israel being a “light to the nations” and bringing “blessing to all peoples of the earth.” The purpose of this “Plot Level 2″ was always to restore “Plot Level 1″ – God sends humanity to rule the earth.

The final helper in this sequence (Plot Level 3) was none other than Jesus himself. This can be seen in Jesus’ resoluteness that he came only to help the “lost sheep of Israel” (Matt. 10:6; 15:24), as well as the emphasis that Jesus had come to save Israel (Matt. 1:21; Luke 1:68; 2:25). Through the death and resurrection of Jesus, “Plot Level 2″ has been restored because Jesus then sends out his company of 12 Jewish young men with a task to “make disciples of all the Gentiles/nations” (Matt. 28:19). Interestingly enough, in Acts 1, the apostles ask Jesus, “Lord, is it at this time You are restoring the kingdom to Israel?” Jesus answers in his usually interesting fashion, here by giving neither a clear yes or no answer and then continues, “but you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be My witnesses both in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and even to the remotest part of the earth” (Acts 1:8). Many people assume that Jesus’ answer is “no,” as in “you are stuck on thinking about politics, but I am going to have you go around and preach a new spiritual, inward reality.” It seems rather, if we compare the second half of his answer with our plot diagram, if twelve representatives of Israel are being sent out to “disciple the Gentiles” through preaching to “the remotest parts of the earth,” then the answer to their question is more like “yes, but not in the way you are thinking.”

So then, Jesus, through his death and resurrection, restores Plot Level 2. The ultimate goal of redemptive history however, is the recovery of Plot Level 1 – and human beings restored to gracious rulership over the earth. Rather than develop this here, in what is already a too-long blog-post, I will quote four passages that demonstrate this cosmic aspect of redemption’s goal. These passages are often enigmatic when the Bible is read in context to overarching stories that are in fact foreign to the Bible (i.e., the stories of Western affluence, escapism, rationalism, secular hedonism, etc.). However, when read starting with the narrative framework of the Old Testament as the foundation, these passages make perfect sense:

Acts 3:19-21 – Repent therefore, and turn to God so that your sins may be wiped out, so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord, and that he may send the Messiah appointed for you, that is, Jesus, who must remain in heaven until the time of the restoration of all things that God announced long ago through his holy prophets.

Ephesians 1:9-10 – he has made known to us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure that he set forth in Christ, as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.

Colossians 1:19-20 – For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.

Romans 8:19‐23 – For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God; for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now; and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies.

Links to earlier parts in the series Reading the Bible in the Right Direction: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Why Greek Matters (Part 1) – The Joy of Jesus (Matthew 28:9)

Richard — Wed, 06 May 2009 04:52:05 +0000

This is from a series paintings depicting the entire passion/resurrection cycle on the walls of medieval church in Oxfordshire, UK. This scene is Jesus appearing to Mary.

Since I teach New Testament Greek, I am often asked why one should invest the time to learn a whole language just to study the Bible. It is commonly phrased as, “do actually need to learn that to understand the Bible?” Of course, the answer is no. The modern English translations are reliable enough to not lead you into heresy and to give you understand of the Bible’s main points. So then, why study Greek (or Hebrew for that matter)? Rather than give a drawn out philosophical argumentation, laying out all the benefits of learning Greek, I’ve decided to give an apologetic that goes right to the text. This will be the beginning of a series of (hopefully short) posts which will look at specific texts and explain why its helpful, illuminating and/or exhilarating to know whats “going on under the hood.” The point will not be that “these are the six passages where Greek is helpful, therefore you might consider learning it.” Rather, this is just a sampling of what will happen nearly every time you read the NT in Greek – you see things in fresh ways and from fresh angles, very often in a manner that is at once exciting and heart-warming

To start, I’d like to take a quick look at the first resurrection appearance in Matthew (apropos, since we are in Easter Season). The women arrived at the tomb, only to find it empty, with an angel sitting on the stone that had once concealed its interior. Instructing them that Jesus had risen from the dead (just as he said), and that they were to go report the news to the disciples, they ran off quickly in fear and great joy. Suddenly, Jesus “meets them” and says to them…according to the NRSV, “Greetings!” according to the KJV, “Hail!” and the NASB simply says, “he greeted them” without telling us what he said. However, in Greek, Jesus literally says “Rejoice!” Granted, this was a common greeting in first century Judea (ironically, earlier in Matthew, Judas greets Jesus with the same words as he betrays him), however, I just love that the first words out of Jesus’ mouth to another person after the resurrection are about gladness. I can only picture Jesus saying this with a huge smile on his face. What he or the women should be happy about is not specified in the text. While, there were undoubtedly many things to be happy about (see my previous post on the resurrection and the renewal of the earth), I think Jesus was, amongst other things, simply happy to see them. After the agony of the preceeding weekend, Jesus’ heart was thrilled with delight to see his friends and for them to see that he was well (and indeed, far more than well…).

Reading the Bible in the Right Direction (Part 2)

Richard — Wed, 25 Jun 2008 21:54:50 +0000

In my last post I proposed a manner of biblical interpretation in which the ideas, concepts, world-view, etc. of the Old Testament must be the foundation for understanding the New Testament, rather than vice versa. The thought must flow from an informed Old Testament understanding into the New Testament, rather than reinterpreting the Old Testament by what is assumed the New Testament means.

One illustration will suffice for now, although I will elucidate this principle in a number of subsequent posts. In Matthew 2:15, Matthew describes how after the birth of Jesus, his parents took him to Egypt to avoid the threat of Herod. After Herod died, they came back to Judea. Matthew says, “This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet: “Out of Egypt I called my son.” On first glance, this may look like a fulfillment of prophesy “proving” that Jesus is the Messiah. It seems that way until one looks at the context surrounding the verse quoted in Hosea 11. Instead of being a prophecy foretelling the future, it is the recollection of God’s past faithfulness to Israel in bringing them out of Egypt in the Exodus. The “son” is Israel, who in the Exodus accounts is called Yahweh’s “firstborn son” (Ex. 4:22). Does Matthew 2 thereby “prove” that Jesus is the Messiah on the basis of Hosea 11? Is that what Matthew means by “fulfillment?”

It seems like we have two interpretive options. We can read the Bible backwards – inserting the NT idea into the OT. This would leave us with a Hosea 11 which is maybe a little bit about Israel, but is really about Jesus, predicting his departure from Egypt when he was young so we could conclusively prove that Jesus came to die for our sins and bring our souls with him to heaven. The other possibility is to read the Bible in the other direction. Hosea 11 really is about Israel. It really is about the covenant. It really is about the history of promises given to an earthling (i.e., Abraham) about the future of life on earth. History does not become irrelevant in the light of eternity. Earth does not become irrelevant in light of heaven. Humanity does not become irrelevant in the light of God. Instead of Hosea 11 becoming about Jesus (which would make Hosea 11 pretty incomprehensible, especially to its original audience), Matthew is telling us that the birth and life of Jesus and the story he is recounting is in direct continuity with the OT history of promise, covenant and exodus.

This gets all the more interesting when we consider more of the surrounding context in Matthew:

1:23 – the angel Gabriel announces that a “savior” is going to be born (the word “savior” and “deliverer” are the same concept in Hebrew – think a deliverer, i.e. MOSES)
2:13 – Herod attempts to kill Jesus by killing all the children in Bethlehem (think Pharaoh killing all the Hebrew children in Exodus)
2:15 – “Out of Egypt I called my Son” – think the Exodus of Israel out of Egypt
3:6 – Jesus is baptized by John in the Jordan River, which in Jewish tradition is often seen in parallel with the Red Sea (compare, for example, Psalm 114) – here we are seeing Jesus “cross the Red Sea” after leaving Egypt
4:1ff – Jesus enters the wilderness for 40 days – think Israel wandering in the wilderness for forty years – they failed in their time of temptation, but Jesus triumphed.
4:12 – Jesus “enters the land” and begins his ministry proclaiming the Gospel.

Matthew 2:15 is not a proof-text for the Messiah-ship of Jesus. It is part of a larger drama where Matthew is implicitly retelling (indeed, with these passages, in chronological order) the story of Israel, specifically their central, paradigmatic story, the Exodus. Rather than being a Messianic proof-text, it tells us that Jesus is embodying the history of Israel and is indeed re-enacting it, to prepare us to understand that Jesus is the true representative of Israel, the one who will go into exile for their sins and burst through the bonds of the exile of death to herald the restoration, indeed the resurrection of Israel and all humanity. Jesus fulfills what was written in the prophets, in that he is the climax, the consummation, the fulfillment of the story of Israel. All of Israel’s hopes had been looking back to the covenant promises and forward to the nation’s restoration. They were looking for a new exodus, a final, eschatological exodus in which all things would be made new. This story of promise and expectation finds its fulfillment in Jesus. In Him, the Pharaoh of history, death itself, has been defeated and the way is opened for all to enter into the perpetual existence of resurrection life on earth.

Calling Not the Clean But the Unclean – Thoughts and Prayer for Epiphany 3

Richard — Sun, 27 Jan 2008 07:22:10 +0000

The Gospel reading for today (in the Revised Common Lectionary) centers on Jesus calling his first four disciples. It is noteworthy for several reasons that these initial disciples were fishermen. One reason will suffice for now. Early Rabbinic literature specifically mentions two professions in which it was virtually impossible to follow the Torah’s purity laws. The first was that of fishermen, because by virtue needing to sort mixed catches of aquatic creatures, they were constantly touching unclean animals. The four fishermen Jesus called were very much so, on the fringes of religious society – virtually untouchable because of the transferable impurity necessarily acquired from their subsistence occupation. In Luke’s version of the story of Peter’s calling, Jesus instructs Peter to let down his fishing nets which leads to a miraculously large catch of fish. There are three notable aspects of what follows:

1) Peter is overwhelmed at the revelation of Jesus and falls at his feet
2) Peter confesses his own sinfulness, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man”
3) Jesus commissions Peter to ministry: “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.” (Luke 5:8-10)

These three happenings remarkably parallel Isaiah’s prophetic commissioning when he:

1) Sees the glory of God on his throne (Isaiah 6:1-4)
2) Confesses his own sinfulness: “I am a man of unclean lips.” (Isaiah 6:5)
3) Is commissioned by God to ministry (Isaiah 6:8ff.)

Here Peter has a commissioning to prophetic ministry in which the glory of God is revealed to him, but not in a vision. Rather, it occurs right in the midst of the most banal surroundings of Peter’s life: his fishing boat. Rather than Peter being transported to another realm, the Divine has become incarnate, embodied in the very stuff of Peter’s life. It is there that he beholds the Divine Glory, has a revelation of his own inadequacy and is nevertheless told not to fear and is commissioned to the prophetic ministry. This is stunning because the recognized prophet of God, who had been confirmed already by many miracles, was choosing his followers, not from the religious elite, but amidst the unequivocally unclean, thereby extending the favor of God to them. That Jesus, the prophet, had accepted them symbolized to them and to all, that God had in fact accepted, those whom the religious elite had written off and the political and cultural elite had absolutely no concern for.

This is even more incredible by virtue of the fact that the second profession noted by Rabbinic writings as essentially unclean was carpentry, because they doubled as undertakers. Part of Jesus’ very own profession was that of regularly handling dead bodies. God incarnate was perpetually ritualistically unclean. This testifies to the depths of the humility of God. Not only does he reach out and embrace the disenfranchised and rejected, he identifies with them by living in their status of categorical rejection. He does not reach out from an untouchable pedestal, but embraces us from within our own downcast condition. He enters the world of our internalized and long forgotten reproach that we resignedly grow accustomed to. He carries within his own soul the humiliations and life-denying negations of shame and disdain which we reconcile with. He feels the sting of death in the isolation we have concluded is our portion. In doing so, he invites us to follow him, abolishing the wisdom of this age and bursting apart the categorical designations that had bound us to a cycle of despair. His acceptance liberates us into our true humanity and empowers us to leave our former unrighteousness, our previous beaten-down, bent-over posture. We abandon a playing and laying-low that abdicates the responsibility to rise into our glorious identity as divine image-bearers. In his invitation we find a way out. In his friendship we are free.

And so we pray:

It is right, and a good and joyful thing,
always and everywhere to give thanks to you,
Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth,

Because your Son, our Lord the Messiah
Calls to himself not the clean but the unclean
Not the well but the sick
Not the righteous but the unrighteousness
Not the wise but the foolish,
Not the strong but the weary,
To be His disciples and friends, and to follow him in his works.
In thus, he destroys the wisdom of the powers of this age
For your foolishness is wiser than human wisdom
And your weakness is stronger than human strength.
You have chosen the foolish to confound the wise
And the weak to confound the strong.
In befriending the lowly and despised,
those accounted as nothing
he has reduced the kingdoms
and powers of this world to nothing
manifesting his glory as
one who is gentle and humble in heart
the friend of sinners and the hope of the poor.

Therefore we praise you, joining with Angels and Archangels
And with all the company of heaven
Who for ever sing this hymn to proclaim the glory of your Name:

Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power and might,
Heaven and earth are full of your glory.
Hosanna in the highest.
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.
Hosanna in the highest.

The Baptism of Our Lord

Richard — Sun, 13 Jan 2008 06:51:36 +0000

Today is the First Sunday after Epiphany: The Baptism of Our Lord. Today we commemorate with joy and thanksgiving the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan River by John the Baptist. As I am gathering that you may have never even heard of such a holiday or may not have thought of celebrating the baptism of Jesus, I intend to give a few thoughts on the significance of the event.

I mentioned in a previous post that a week ago, January sixth was The Epiphany, which in fact begins a season (stunningly called the Season of Epiphany). This season extends until Lent and commemorates and celebrates the saving significance of Jesus’ life. His life does not serve only to lead up to the cross where salvation is wrought. The Gospels show us Jesus actually bringing salvation through his life on earth. This sounds strange to us because we often conceive of salvation as “going to heaven,” while such an idea, save a few verses, is remarkably absent from the Bible and entirely absent from the Old Testament. In the Old Testament, salvation always means earthly deliverance, often from enemies. It never means escape from the earth, but refers to the transformation of earthly circumstances and the renewal of the quality of life. The earthy, embodied and grounded spirituality of the Psalms bears this out over and over. A few examples will suffice for now:

Psalm 3:7-8 – “Arise, LORD! Deliver me, my God! Strike all my enemies on the jaw; break the teeth of the wicked. Salvation belongs to the LORD; Your blessing be upon Your people!”

Psalm 9:13-14 – “Be gracious to me, O LORD; See my affliction from those who hate me, You who lift me up from the gates of death, That I may tell of all Your praises, That in the gates of the daughter of Zion I may rejoice in Your salvation.”

Psalm 14:7 – “Oh, that the salvation of Israel would come out of Zion! When the LORD restores His captive people, Jacob will rejoice, Israel will be glad.”

Psalm 18:2 – “The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, My God, my rock, in whom I take refuge; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.”

As you can see above, I simply picked the first few verses that came up in my Bible program when I searched for “salvation” in the Psalms. It would have been easy to find dozens of additional verses in the Psalms (and hundreds elsewhere) to affirm the same conclusion: the hope of Israel was not a disembodied escape from earth, but the renewal of life on earth. That is how they understood salvation. With this conception of salvation, it is much easier to see how Jesus’ life does in fact bring salvation to the people. He heals the sick, restores the crippled, feeds the hungry, liberates the demon-oppressed, raises the dead, welcomes the outcast and returns dignity to the despised. He proclaims the kingdom of God, where all things will be made new and is in himself, the “Kingdom-of-God-in-person.” Jesus is the presence of God’s future salvation for the world in many diverse settings and applications. If we get over the medieval shackling of the concept of salvation to a disembodied, anti-earthly heavenly escape, we can see the vast continuity between Jesus’ earthly ministry, the Old Testament concept of salvation and the prophetically declared future for the world in God’s Kingdom.

How does this relate to Jesus’ baptism? Several happenings within the larger episode demonstrate the salvific significance of the baptism of Jesus. First, Jesus submits to John’s baptism. John is often called the last of the Old Testament prophets. By Jesus own words, John was the returning of the spirit of Elijah as prophesied by Malachi (Malachi 4:5-6; Matthew 11:14). As Jesus submits to John’s baptism, he puts himself in direct continuity with John’s ministry and the entire Old Testament history of promise and expectation related to his ministry.

Second, the Spirit descends on Jesus and thereafter becomes the determinative principle of his life. Third, the Father speaks from heaven saying, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased (Matthew 3:17). Taken together, these show the baptism to be Jesus’ sending forth in his Messianic mission. Growing out of Biblical expectation, at the time of Jesus, hope for salvation was increasingly focused on the person called the Messiah. The Messiah would be a person who would lead the people of God in triumph over all their enemies, liberate them from oppression and be a conduit through which God would lead the entire world into a new age of peace, justice, freedom and joy.

The word Messiah comes from the Hebrew word for anointing, specifically with the Holy Spirit. The Spirit, which was understood as the agent of the restoration of Israel (Ezek. 36:25ff; 37:14; 39:29) and the entire creation (Isa. 32:15; Joel 2:28ff; Ps. 104:30), was also understood to rest specifically on one person, the Messiah. When the Father spoke over Jesus, He was alluding to two Old Testament passages. In saying “this is my Son,” he is alluding to Psalm 2 and the commissioning of the Davidic King, which was a type of the Messiah. In saying “in whom I am well pleased,” he is alluding to Isaiah 42:1, which speaks of the Messianic figure, endued with the Spirit who will bring justice to the entire earth. In the midst of this declaration, the Spirit descends on Jesus, in very fact anointing him as the Messiah.

The moment of Jesus’ baptism is not merely Jesus honoring John, or giving us a model for us to follow, therefore “fulfilling all righteousness.” This is the inauguration of his mission as the Messiah. His reception of the Spirit is the beginning of the Messiah’s mission of life in which he will set captives free, restore the dead to life, and bring forth justice all over the earth. Here we understand Jesus as the one who will restore the earth, liberate us from all our enemies and free us to live before Him without fear all the days of our life (Luke 1:74). On this day, Jesus emerges out of thirty years of complete obscurity, rises from the waters of baptism anointed with the Spirit and begins to bring forth the new creation of all things. On this day, a door opened that will expand wider and wider into eternity filling the earth with justice, eradicating the curse from the planet and flooding creation with love, truth and joy. This is the Jesus we love and this is what we celebrate on this day.

Do not Weep for Me…

Richard — Sat, 07 Apr 2007 01:45:34 +0000

In his gospel, Luke tells us that as Jesus was on the way to Golgotha, a number of women followed Jesus mourning and wailing for him. Remarkably, he turns to them, saying “do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and for your children” (Lk. 23.28). I find it amazing that as Jesus experiences the greatest amount of pain in his life and indeed in the entire existence of the world, he turns and tells people to not focus on his pain, but rather on their own. For many of us, thinking about our own pain seems to be one of the last things we want to do. For others of us, we can’t even think about our pain because it is so far buried that it is beyond our cognizance. For others, we spend so much time giving to others, helping, serving and ministering to those whom to us seem in dire need, that we have emptied our reservoir of time or emotional energy to consider our own pain. Yet, in the moment of his anguish, at the time when he faced death and separation from his Father, he calls attention to the plight of human suffering – the universal experience of every human being. We spend so much time, energy and anxiety denying, avoiding, suppressing, overlooking and dismissing our pain, yet Jesus seems to find it important in the hour of his death.

The liturgical tradition of the church maintains this undesired nuance of the Good Friday story. It is traditional that following a reading from Isaiah 53 (the suffering servant) or Genesis 22 (Abraham offering Isaac), Psalm 22 is said or sung by the congregation. This psalm, with its opening line “My God, my God why have you forsaken me” is obviously connected to Jesus’ suffering due to his own voicing of these words while hanging on the cross. However, ironically, though alluding to the suffering of the Messiah, the psalm is said by every congregant in the first person. Each person voices to God, “why have you forsaken me.” While of course recalling Jesus’ sufferings, one personally recounts to God and is therein confronted with the anguish, god-forsakenness, confusion and despair of their own existence. This inclusion of the first-person recitation of Psalm 22 prevents us from moving through Good Friday mourning solely for the sufferings of Jesus. “Do not weep for me; weep for yourselves…” In order for Good Friday to mean anything, we must mourn our own pain, we must grieve our own god-forsakenness. We must discover how the words of Psalm 22 are not simply Jesus’ words, but are in fact our own. Indeed, in the chronology of humanity, these words of god-forsakeness were our own lips long before they were on the lips of Jesus. They were words of the universal human plight that Jesus, in his passion, identified with, entered into and experienced fully.

“Do not weep for me; weep for yourselves…” This perspective is crucial for understanding the significance of Jesus’ death. On the cross, he not only paid the penalty for sin, but “surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows...upon him was the chastisement that brought our wholeness and with his stripes we are healed” (Isa. 53:4-5). Without griefs and sorrows that are woefully significant, without brokenness that requires wholeness, without wounds that need healing, Jesus death flies high into an abstract world of economic exchanges for the price of sin, far from the aching place within us so desperately needing his presence. On the cross, Jesus drew near to us in our pain and fellowshipped with us in our suffering and continues to extend his wounded hands to embrace us in our brokenness. He knows us, in our pain. He understands us, in our brokenness. He is near us, in our sorrow. He feels together with us, in the place we feel abandoned by all, including even God. “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:15-16).

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