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In looking again at Leviticus 8, I noticed that in the baptism>anointing sequence, only Aaron gets anointed at first. Then, after the sin offering and ascension offerings are completed, not only Aaron but also his sons are anointed.

That fascinates me in connection with the sequence of things in the Gospels and Acts. Jesus is baptized by John and immediately anointed by the Spirit. But while many others are baptized, both by John and by Jesus’ disciples, no one else gets anointed.

Jesus becomes the sin offering on the cross and completes His role of ascension offering when He ascends to heaven. It is only then, after the completion of the sin and ascension offerings, that He pours out the Spirit and the “sons” are anointed.

I suggest a moratorium on new Christmas hymns, until we all learn the Magnificat and the Benedictus and the Nunc Dimittis so much by heart that they seep out our fingers at the keyboard, until we instinctively sing of Jesus’ birth like Mary, like Zecharias, like Simeon.

Another gem from Leithart.

The links between David and Christmas are clear enough on the surface of the various texts. It is after all an event that happens in Bethlehem, the city of David, and Joseph and Mary are there precisely because Joseph is of David’s lineage (Lk 2.4).

But as well as what is quite explicit, there are also other undertones and overtones from the David story.

For overtones, we can simply note that just as God passed over the “obvious” choices among Jesse’s sons in favour of the shepherd boy, so too God passes over the “obvious” choices regarding whom will receive the proclamation of the birth of the Messiah, and sends His army to make the royal announcement to… a bunch of shepherds.

Undertones: In Matthew 2, we find Herod making the mothers of Bethlehem childless; in the few verses immediately preceding the record of David’s anointing, we find Samuel hacking Agag of Amalek to pieces with the words, “As your sword has made women childless, so shall your mother be childless among women” (1 Sam 15.33). The connection gives us a pretty good idea what is going to happen to Herod very shortly, and so we are not surprised to learn of his death not far down the road.

I have just posted “Sabbath and Sunday: A Brief Biblical-Theological Consideration” at my biblicalstudiescenter.org site.

The essay includes treatment of Paul’s comments about “days and months and seasons and years” in Gal 4.10, as well as discussion of “the Lord of the Sabbath” passage (Mk 2.23-28) and a variety of related material.

This has really been a paper that I probably should have worked on long ago, given how often the subject comes up and I get involved in protracted discussions, but anyway… judging from the sorts of issues that have come up in conversations/debates I’ve been involved in, I think I’ve covered the major bases necessary. See what you think….

My latest song, written today, April 1, for our Easter program….

Dead Men Don’t Rise

early in the mornin’
they come into the garden
nothin but some women
who don’t expect the livin

don’t call me gullible
it don’t take no science to see
dead men don’t rise   dead men don’t rise
you say you’re sensible
with wisdom of your century
I know what I’ve seen with my eyes
dead men don’t rise
dead men don’t rise

I’ve stood at the gravesides
of beloved faces
I know well what death is
I don’t expect them livin

and I stood on the hillside
a few short days ago
if anyone has looked into death’s eyes
brother, I should know
and dead men don’t rise

so don’t call me gullible
it don’t take no science to see
dead men don’t rise   dead men don’t rise
you say you’re sensible
with wisdom of your century
I know what I’ve seen with my eyes
dead men don’t rise
dead men don’t rise

early in the mornin
Mary comes into the garden
and what does she see with her eyes
ah, but dead men don’t rise….

don’t call me gullible
it don’t take no science to see
dead men don’t rise   dead men don’t rise
you say you’re sensible
with wisdom of your century
I know what I’ve seen with my eyes:
Christ is alive

…to Lisa Miller of Newsweek.

It’s beyond amazing what sort of gall both Miller and her editor displayed in this.

Vote with your pocketbook, is all I say. The media is becoming rapidly more contemptible and corrupt (and it wasn’t starting from a very high point to begin with).

One of my favourite writers as far as his rhetorical approach (and a lot of his thoughts too) was G.K. Chesterton. One of his trademarks was to turn a common notion on its head. So I’m taking a page from his book(s) with the title here.

The first thing that needs to be said is that I’m not going “Word of Faith.” That was a group that claimed that whenever you claimed something in real faith, it happened. I was raised indie Pentecostal, and even I was never that extreme.

But there is nonetheless a real sense in which God never says “No” to the prayer of faith. (more…)

I’m a member of a Christian forum where someone cited an online article, claiming that the “revival” of c. 1907 was dead, because it became institutionalized.

As one who grew up within Pentecostal revivalism, I know these matters from the inside out: My father was as anti-institutional as nearly anyone of his generation of Pentecostals. He was usually suspicious of local churches, and downright hostile to denominations.

But the problem runs even deeper than anti-institutionalism; the theology of revivalism (insofar as it has unique theology) is fundamentally problematic. Here is what I wrote in response to the forum post. (more…)

I am conversing with someone who asked me where infant baptism can be found in Scripture. Here is what I wrote in response.

Thank you for your question. I am glad to see that you are concerned to
follow the Bible in this way. I hope you don’t mind if I take a few
paragraphs to talk about this.

Paul mentions baptism which includes infants in 1 Corinthians 10.2. Of
course, he is referring to an Old Testament event, but as he continues, we
find that he says that the Red Sea and wilderness partaking of water from
the rock and manna were of the same pattern as baptism and the Lord’s
Supper. To be more precise: he uses the language of “tupos” in verses 6 and
11, which is more than “example;” it refers to a pattern or matrix. And this
pattern of Israel was set for “us” (new covenant believers, including
Gentiles), who partake of the Lord’s Supper (1 Corinthians 10.16-22).

(more…)

[Originally posted on my Rabbisaul blog April 22 2007]

On a forum recently, another Christian suggested that, in line with Jesus’ example, Christians ought to forgive the person who committed the killings at Virginia Tech, and pray that he could enter the kingdom of heaven.

FWIW, here’s my response….

I’d say that’s a somewhat simplistic application, for numerous reasons:

1) Jesus’ prayer (and Stephen’s later, in imitation) had to do with people who were sinning against Himself, not others. It is not my place to forgive somebody who harms you; that would be presumptuous on my part.

2) Jesus’ own prayer is not a plea that those who killed Him enter the kingdom of heaven.

3) It should be noted that the situation with Jesus Himself is considerably more complex than is often recognized. The Greek term translated “forgive” there literally has the idea of “leave alone” and is employed elsewhere in the Gospels in Jesus’ parable about the barren fig tree (Luke 13.6-9). The owner says “Look, for three years I have come seeking fruit on this fig tree and find none. Cut it down; why does it use up the ground?” (The cutting-down theme is an extension of John the Baptist’s earlier warning that the ax was already laid at the root of the trees, and those not bearing good fruit would be cut down and thrown into the fire; see e.g. Lk 3.9.) But the vinedresser begs the owner to “forgive” (leave alone, 13.8 ) the tree this year also, and he will dig around it, fertilize it etc; after that, if it doesn’t bear fruit, the owner can then cut it down (13.9). The forgiveness of the tree is not a dismissal of responsibility, but a temporary (but valuable!) reprieve.

The point with Jesus’ prayer of forgiveness is that, by rights, judgment should have descended immediately upon those who rejected and killed Him (and in particular, the official leadership of Jerusalem), but He grants them space for repentance. That space is a generation; Jesus Himself warns that Jerusalem will be destroyed because she did not recognize her visitation by her Messiah and Lord (Luke 19.43-44). (The city was destroyed by the Romans in A.D. 70.)

On a more general level, Jesus’ example is emphatically not one of dismissal of justice for the sake of universal forgiveness for all. By that standard, every evil man and Satan himself would all be ultimately forgiven. But the Bible doesn’t teach that; to the contrary, it warns that all will stand before God and receive recompense for what they have done in the body.

A complete biblical position therefore involves not just Jesus’ words on the cross (which are indeed very significant and important); it places those words in context, and also recognizes their harmony with other biblical passages (such as Rom 13, which says that the ruling authorities “bear the sword” for the purpose of executing justice).

[Originally posted on my Rabbisaul blog April 22 2006]

Nothing original for the blog, so here’s a bit of a piece I wrote in response to an English Baptist on a discussion forum. The overall topic was whether the Church is the new Israel, and whether old Israel was the Church. The gentleman I am responding to is focusing upon the issue of the Church not being the physical seed, which is all Israel was.

——————————————————————–

Both above and later, you’re assuming that the issue is physical vs spiritual. That is a subtle but fundamental misreading of Paul. The issue is flesh vs Spirit, which is very different, having to do with the contrast between two ages, not a contrast between two metaphysical principles.

The New Testament has absolutely no qualms about extending spiritual promises to the children of believers. Children are raised and nurtured in the Lord, not into the Lord; Peter bears witness to the new covenant gift of the Spirit at Pentecost by upholding the ancient principle that the promise is to his hearers’ children – a statement that makes sense only within the context of the ancient promises, characterized by the classic covenantal principle, “I will be God to you and to your children after you.” If Peter is not reinforcing that, he has zero reason to say such a thing; and if he believes what you do, he has every reason not to.

The hermeneutic I’m hearing from you is, at its basis, afflicted with at least a touch of dualism, because it assumes that man’s problem has to do with physicality. Everything is made to denigrate physical descent.

The Bible’s analysis of the situation is quite different.

(more…)

[Originally posted on my Rabbisaul blog March 29 2006]

It is a commonplace that the “feed my lambs” scene in John 21 constitutes a restoration of Peter, corresponding to his denial. Peter, of course, denies three times, and analogously, Jesus asks him three times, “do you love me?” Thus Jesus prompts three affirmations over against the three denials.

Tonight’s closing Bible study in A House for My Name brought further parallels to light. Peter Leithart draws attention to the “fire of coals” that provides the setting for both scenes: Peter is warming himself by a fire of coals when he makes his denial of Jesus (Jn 18.18), and Jesus has prepared a fire of coals for the restoration meeting (Jn 21.9).

But one other correspondence struck me. Peter denied Jesus because he was afraid of death. If he admits to being Jesus’ disciple, will he too be tried and executed? So what is the first thing Jesus says to Peter upon his reconfirmation? He tells him that he will die for Him (21.18-19). Thus the cycle is complete. Despite Peter’s cowardice and denial, he will faithfully reach the martyrdom he so feared.

[Originally posted on my Rabbisaul blog March 22 2006]

I’ve talked about this before (albeit some time ago), but this week I have occasion to preach a sermon on part of this chapter (3.14-21 is the Gospel for the Lenten readings), so I’ll offer a few scattered reflections.

When Jesus announces rebirth/birth from above by the Spirit, He is – surprisingly enough – announcing what He calls “earthly things” (3.12). Yet these “earthly things” are themselves a mystery even to Nicodemus, who is (shall we say) sympathetic. Why? Because he is not yet born from above, and therefore cannot even see the kingdom of God (3.3).

I’ve waffled back and forth over whether “see” there is simply synonymous to “enter” in 3.5, but I think it is more basic than that. John, after all, frequently comments on the matters of sight and blindness; similarly, Jesus as “the Light” is a major theme, including in this very discourse (vv 19ff). Those not born from above cannot so much as recognize the kingdom (cf 1 Cor 2.14).

I’ve earlier commented on the fact that being “born by water and the Spirit” refers to water baptism (with a first referent to John) and Pentecost. It is by these means that the kingdom has come, and it seems unforeseen and unintelligible, even to Nicodemus.

But this is no surprise: that born from the flesh is flesh; that born from the Spirit is s/Spirit (3.6). This is a redemptive-historical, and not simply an individual, statement. The best of the saints living at Christ’s arrival were “flesh”; the opportunity had not yet come to be “born from above.”

It is my opinion that verse 8 is one of the most radically misunderstood verses in the passage. It is usually read along these lines: “The wind blows and you can’t see its origin or its destiny, and the Spirit is the same way.” But that is not what Jesus says. There is no comparative in the verse (“just as… even so”), and neither is it likely that the wind is referenced at all. At most, it is a resonance (something akin to Ezekiel 37, where Spirit, breath and wind are interchangeable. (In Greek, pneuma refers to all three: Spirit, breath, and wind.) Moreover, 8b is not strictly about the Spirit, but about the one born from the Spirit.

Again, Jesus has already just been talking about the Spirit (3.6: “That which has been born from the flesh is flesh, and that which has been born from the Spirit is spirit”). Verse 8 can be literally rendered, “The Spirit ’spirits’/blows where He wills, and His sound you hear, but you do not know whence He comes and where He goes: thus is everyone who has been born from the Spirit.” Verse 8 is not a comparison, but an explanation: this is how the Spirit acts, and thus this is how those born from the Spirit have their existence.

The inexplicability of the birth into the kingdom stands in contrast to those born from the flesh. The members of the kingdom will not, as it turns out, simply be all the members of Israel head for head. The kingdom arrives and doesn’t simply incorporate the whole nation. Instead, the Spirit chooses whom He will, and brings them to baptism, and ultimately, to Pentecost.

Thus far, Jesus says He has been speaking of “earthly things” (3.12), as we noted. But now He speaks of heavenly: the Son of Man who ascends and descends with reference to heaven (3.13). Thus even more mysterious than the unpredictability of the Spirit’s kingdom work is Jesus’ own identity. But if this is a reference to the eternal existence of the Son of Man (as the language of descent would seem to imply), it also seems to be bound up with one strange form of ascent, as Jesus commences to speak of the Son of Man being “lifted up” (on the cross), with the result of giving eternal life to those who believe in Him (3.14-5).

3.16 is, of course, the most well-known verse in the Bible. God thus loved “the world,” that He gave His only-begotten Son, so that every one who believes in Him should not be destroyed but have eternal life. John has a very strong “world” (kosmos) theme, and it begins already in 1.9-10: “That was the true Light which gives light to every man coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through Him, and the world did not know Him” (there’s our “unseeing” theme again!).

Incidentally – is v 9 speaking of Jesus giving light to “every man who comes into the world,” or is it referring to the light coming into the world, giving light to every man? [The Greek nominative neuter participle - from "light" - is the same in form as the masculine accusative - which would correspond to "every man."] The latter, I suggest, is the point; since it is Jesus who is spoken of throughout John as “coming into the world.” This is cinched by our passage in 3.19: “And this is the condemnation, that the light has come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil.”

John’s use of “world” seems self-contradictory to us. For example, the world is something that was made through the Word (1.10) and which is the object of God’s love (3.16), and Jesus gives His life for the life of the world (6.51) – and yet elsewhere it is the world that hates Jesus and His disciples (7.7; 15.18-9; 16.20), cannot receive the Spirit (14.17), and is about to be judged (12.31). Are these simply two radically different ways of using the same term?

I think the answer is yes and no. Keep in mind that kosmos is an order-word (I’ll explain a bit in a moment). We must hold together at least three things here: 1) the creation of the kosmos; 2) the fallenness of the kosmos as it now is; 3) the concept of two ages. In John’s usage, it seems to me that kosmos refers to the ordered reality of the first age, including its people. This ordered reality is thus corrupt and corruptible (i.e. subject to weakness and death), sinful – and also comprised of the very people Jesus came to save. Thus the negative and positive uses of the term are not entirely antithetical but complementary within a global concept of two ages, two orders.

(There is considerable overlap here with the term flesh in Paul – and to some degree, in John as well, as here in 3.6. Even Paul can use the flesh-terminology in a positive sense corresponding to John’s world-language: Christ is of the seed of David “according to the flesh,” for instance [Rom 1.3].)

Jesus comes simultaneously to judge and to save the world – and this is so, quite apart from the issue of condemnation. (Actually, Jesus says He does not come to “judge” the world in that sense – 3.17; 12.47 – although such condemnation is a by-product of His arrival: those who do not believe are indeed condemned: 3.18-19.) This is because Jesus is the bringer of the kingdom – that is, a new order of things, a new age. For “the world” to be saved, it needs to meet its “judgment” in the cross (12.31). As the same verse notes, this “judgment” upon the world involves the “casting out” of the “ruler of this world.” In other words, the Satan can only have power to rule in the kosmos, not the kingdom. So the judgment of the world in Christ’s flesh (and I use that term in its fullest sense) amounts to the defeat of Satan: “the world” that believes in Christ passes from being kosmos and thus out of Satan’s dominion.

Anyway, we have now wandered a bit astray from John 3. Returning there, with regard to the earlier concept of “not seeing”: the point is that those who have not yet been born of the Spirit remain fully within the kosmos. As such, because they are fully in the first age, they cannot “see” the kingdom.

(Jesus will later tell His disciples that they are “not of the world” [e.g. 15.19], even though He has not yet died, nor has the Spirit come. That may seem a bit of an anomaly, but not really, since Jesus is present, and He also distinguishes between how the Spirit is present with the disciples, but will be in them [14.17]. Perhaps we might say that those who believe upon Christ prior to His death, resurrection, and Pentecost, have been given authority to become the sons of God, but have not yet entered fully into that sonship; cf 1.12.)

With regard to 3.16, however, we see God’s love for the world. He sends His Son to judge the world in His own self-giving death, which will in fact be life for the world. The judgment upon the world will be a sort of destruction (in Christ), but that will be the necessary abolition which provides the possibility of resurrection. Thus the only-begotten Son finds the “destruction” that those who believe in Him may not. (In 3.16, we usually translate the word perish, but less arcane language, it means destruction. Sometimes, abandoning an archaic term will help us hear something afresh.)

So, as John the Baptizer preached, the coming of the Son of Man into the world is judgment (“the axe is laid to the root of the trees” etc). And yet that judgment will not entail destruction for those who believe in the Son of Man. That is the good news of the kingdom, a kingdom which is entered by water and by the Spirit.

Well, that is enough for tonight. Perhaps there will be more to come; we’ll see.

[Originally posted on my Rabbisaul blog Feb 1 2006]

Mark 4.33 says, “in many such parables He spoke to them the Word, just as they were able to hear.”

What does that mean? It surely does not mean, “as far (or as many – i.e. “as many parables”) as they were capable of understanding,” since even Jesus’ closest disciples lacked the capacity to understand, as is already seen earlier in the chapter.

If we can suppose that these parables are spoken, not only to the disciples, but to the multitudes (as v 34b demonstrates), and compare this statement with what appears in 4.10ff (regarding Jesus speaking to the multitudes in parables, so that “seeing they may see and not perceive, and hearing they may hear and not understand; lest they should turn and their sins be forgiven them”), then it seems to me that v 34 means something like this: “In many such parables Jesus spoke to them, just as that is all they had power to hear.” In other words, He keeps speaking to them in parables, because they do not have the “ears to hear” which He has been calling for (e.g. 4.23); their hearts and minds are left with a mystery. Thus, kathos (“just as”) is functioning in a comparative manner, and not with the sense of “to the degree that”) – something like “even as.”

I’m not sure if that does full justice to the Greek word edunanto (“able”), but that’s my best guess at the moment, and it conforms to what immediately follows: “but without a parable He did not speak to them.” This again ties back to 4.10ff. Edit: this usage of “able” in connection with understanding would seem to fit well with John 8.43: “Why do you not know My speech? Because you are not able to hear My Word.”

[Originally posted on my Rabbisaul blog Jan 31 2006]

Last week, I preached on the parable of the sower, seed, and soils (Mk 4.1-20), and drew attention to the fact that Jesus did not use parables so that people could better understand via His helpful illustrations; rather, He used them because He was turning those people over to the hardness of their hearts and deadness of their ears. The explanations were left for the “insiders” (4.10).

While that is all interesting and important, it is only part of the story. In the next passage, Jesus goes on to clarify. Here is a literal translation of Mark 4.21-22:

And He said to them, “Does a light come in order that it may be placed under a measure, or under the couch? Is it not in order that upon a lampstand it may be placed? For it is not hidden, except in order to be manifest, nor did it become secret, but in order that it may become manifest.”

He then goes on in succeeding parables to speak of how the seed is hidden in the ground, but nonetheless sprouts and grows beyond human reason, coming to fruition as harvestable grain (4.28-29) or as a bush with great branches which shade the birds (4.32).

It seems to me, then, that there is a lot more going on here than at first meets the eye. The point of the “hiddenness” of Jesus’ message of the kingdom – spoken in parables – is not that the Word become privatized among the “insiders,” but that it break forth and give light to all. If I’m right, that’s an interesting balance with the judgment language of 4.10ff. By “hiding” the kingdom Word among His disciples, Jesus is nonetheless still aiming at its public triumph.