How Should We Read the Psalms as Christians?

There are two principal ways we can and ought to read the Psalms as Christians. 


Firstly, we read the Psalms as the prayers and praises of the people of God, addressed to God. They can both speak to us and for us. We can identify with so many of the Psalms as the psalmists speak to God out of a wide range of human experiences. The Psalms both instruct us in our relationship with God and can be used to express that relationship as we pray and sing them.

This approach is the most basic and familiar way we read the psalms as Christians. It is valid and essential, but it is helpful to clarify a couple of points. Firstly, we must not read the Psalms too individualistically. Yes, I can read the Psalms as shaping and expressing my personal relationship with God – but we must be careful not to overemphasise that aspect, because more basic is the communal nature of the Psalter. The very fact that they are grouped together in a collection for use by the people of God attests to that. Secondly, the Psalms should not be read as some kind of general spirituality, as if expressing people’s general religious experience or searching for God. On the one hand, the Psalms are human words addressed to God that are simultaneously God’s Word addressed to humanity. On the other, we need to read the Psalms Christianly, which means christologically, which is our next point.

Secondly, then, we read the Psalms as speaking about the Christ and being fulfilled in Jesus the Christ. It cannot be escaped that many times in the New Testament, the Psalms are interpreted as being about Jesus Christ. There are many specific texts within the Psalms that are fulfilled in Jesus. But reading the Psalms christologically actually works at a deeper level than just considering the specific verses that the NT authors cite.

To start with, there is the overwhelming stamp of David on the Psalms. He is named in the inscriptions 73 times. 13 of those refer to specific events in David’s life. There is a Davidic flavour to the Psalter, which necessarily means that there is a Christological flavour to the psalms, since David is the Christ, he is the anointed king who – in contrast to Saul, and also the later kings – is the paradigmatic king, the king par excellence that God has appointed for his people. However, we need to immediately qualify that last sentence because it is only half-true, for David is flawed (cf. Psalm 51, for instance), he is the starting paradigm for the kind of saviour-king God’s people needs, but a partial, flawed fulfilment of that. What this means is that the Davidic flavour to the Psalms creates a paradigm that needs one greater than David to fulfil. Thus, for example, we find descriptions of ‘the Christ’ which go far beyond anything that we see in David, Solomon or any of the later kings. (e.g. Psalm 2)

A second consideration is in part the result of scholarly studies since Geoffrey Wilson’s The Editing of the Hebrew Psalter (1985) which have paid close attention to the shape of the Psalms as a whole book: the structure of the book in 5 books, the general movement that can be detected from lament to praise, the role of the “psalms at the seams” – those at the beginning and ending of the 5 books, etc. John Woodhouse suggests that the theme of David & kingship develops in the 5 books in the following way:

Book 1 (Psalms 1-41)      focus on David, often in trouble from enemies, sometimes rescued from enemies

Book 2 (Psalms 42-72)    David more in background, although lots of Psalms related to David’s life. Ends with David’s prayer for Solomon (72)

Book 3 (Psalms 73-89)    troubles of Israel, psalm 89 promise to David elaborated but not fulfilled . the exact opposite of Psalm 2

Book 4 (Psalms 90-106)  kingship of God celebrated; ends with remembering history of Israel (105, 106)

Book 5 (Psalms 107-150) a return to Davidic psalms; psalm 144 David is king, psalm 145, the Lord is king, conclusion of praise (146-150)

What this suggests is that a key question within the book of Psalms as a whole is precisely the problem of the Christ – the need that God’s people has for God’s King to rule them. This means that the book of Psalms is eschatological, it looks forward to the person who will fulfil that Christ-role.

Since David is so prominent in the Psalms and since he is more than a particularly pious Israelite – he is the Lord’s anointed – we are invited to read the Psalms not firstly from the vantage point of a pious Israelite (or Christian) but from the vantage point of the Lord’s anointed.

This means, for example, that we should be attentive to how the whole book of Psalms is focussed on Christ, not just the obvious psalms that are quoted in the NT. We should read laments such as Psalm 3-7 and ask what paradigm do these psalms set for the life and work of the Christ? Before jumping too quickly to how it relates to my own experience.

The key Christian question, then, in relation to reading the Psalms is to ask, before we ask “what does this say about my/our experience ?”, “what does this say about the Christ’s experience – fulfilled in Jesus?” In fact, asking the Christological question first will enable us to ask the other question (my/our experience) in a better, more fruitful way. When we use the Psalms to shape and express our own faith, prayers and praise, we will be doing so in a profoundly Christ-shaped way; I will be able to relate my struggles to Asaph or David’s struggles through Christ.

Note. Resources which I have found helpful in reflecting on the Psalms: (* = particularly so)

 Ernest Lucas Exploring the Old Testament Volume Three: The Psalms and Wisdom Literature (IVP, 2003)

*Philip S. Johnston and David G. Firth Interpreting the Psalms (Apollos, 2005)

*John Woodhouse The Psalms, David and the Christ (mp3s from The Proclamation Trust)

Gordon Wenham Reading the Psalms (mp3s from Southern Baptist Seminary)

(this post was originally an assignment for the northern training institute)

How does the Book of Ecclesiastes Point to Jesus?

The enigmatic book of Ecclesiastes's contribution to the canon of Scripture is distinctive and important. Like the rest of the Old Testament Scriptures, it points to Christ (Luke 24.44), although in a different way to, say, the messianic psalms or the typologies of the temple and the sacrificial system.

Ecclesiastes shows us the frustration of living in a fallen world. It is in some ways an exposition of Genesis 3. The key word is ‘vanity’ or ‘meaninglessness’, which appears at both the beginning (1.2) and the end of the book (12.8), as well as in many places throughout. The emphasis is on the transitoriness of life, and the lack of satisfaction to be found therein – whether through work or pleasure or wisdom. The preacher is determined to tear it all down, everything to which we may turn for ultimate meaning. “Everything is meaningless” (1.2) There is also a frustration at injustice in the world – the wicked prosper and the righteous suffer. And while there are hints of an ultimate judgment to right the wrongs (e.g. 3.17), the dominant note is that death marks the end and robs the achievements of life of any meaning.

Within this frustrating world, the preacher calls us to make the best of it: to enjoy our work and seek to live happily the few days we have. We must learn to live with the mystery: wisdom has its limits, we won’t be able to fathom it all out. The conclusion, then is this: life is meaningless and the best we can do is this: fear God and keep his commandments.

Ecclesiastes’ contribution to the canon of Scripture is important: it balances the wisdom of Proverbs and elsewhere which emphasise the order of creation, by reminding us of the disorder of a fallen creation, and the frustration produced by that disorder. It warns us against coming up with simplistic answers, and all-too-pat theodicies. It contributes to the unresolved and incomplete nature of the Old Testament Scriptures awaiting the One who would fulfill them all. Ecclesiastes leaves us with unresolved questions: the conclusion to fear God and keep his commandments is right as far as it goes, but leaves us crying out for something more, some kind of fuller resolution to the problem of the frustration of a fallen world.

This, then, is how Ecclesiastes points to Christ: Jesus is the one who entered into the frustration of the world and by his work overcame it. He experienced in his life the tears, exhaustion and perplexity of living in a world tainted with sin and, more importantly, he conquered the root of the world’s frustration by his substitionary death on the cross. Sin and death defeated through the cross and the resurrection. Thus the unresolved questions of Ecclesiastes are answered: the hopes of resurrection and new creation and the certainty of final judgment, all of which lie in the hands of Jesus Christ, resolve the problems of injustice and death and vanity.

And yet, it is also vital to grasp how the questions of Ecclesiastes are resolved. In fact, we still live in an Ecclesiastes-world of vanity, frustration, injustice and death. There is continuity between the pre-cross and the post-cross worlds, as especially Romans 8.18ff makes clear: the creation is still groaning. What has changed is that Christ’s work has brought a certain hope of final resolution and the inbreaking of that eternal life into the present time. Paul therefore writes with confidence of the “glory that will be revealed in us” as being far beyond comparison with “our present sufferings.”

The frustration of Ecclesiastes is not removed by becoming a Christian but is modified by hope in Christ. We live, therefore, in the tension between the seen and experienced fallen world and the unseen eternal world to come. It is the Christian tension of walking in faith not sight. For the unbeliever, Ecclesiastes functions in a similar way: it describes their own experience of frustration, and, in the context of the whole canon, points to the hope that can be theirs too in Jesus Christ.

Postscript:
This was an assignment I wrote for NTI last August. The tutor added the following helpful comment:

Thanks for this. Good stuff. I don't have much to add. I find it helpful to think in terms of the judgment referred in the closing verses as the imposition of meaning and order on a meaningless and disordered world. We live in a world in which good and evil are meaningless - they seem arbitrarily determined and inconsistently rewarded. But one day God will impose order on the world through judgment. Good will seen to be good and evil will seen to be evil when God judges the world through Jesus.

What and when is the kingdom of God?

Not an easy question to answer, but I've had a go! This was for an NTI assignment and, among other things, I found Thomas Schreiner New Testament Theology particularly helpful.

Reader, please feel free to comment and criticise!

So,

What and When is the Kingdom of God?

Joseph of Arimathea was by no means alone in 1st-century Israel in “looking for the kingdom of God” (Mark 15.43; Luke 23.51).

Both John the Baptist and Jesus announced the imminent arrival of the kingdom and called people to prepare themselves (repent) for its arrival. In addition, both link the coming of the kingdom with the coming of Jesus himself. Thus John announces the coming of one “more powerful than I” who will bring the purifying fire of judgment, separating the wheat from the chaff (Matthew 3.11-12). But while John points forward to the one who would follow, Jesus in his teaching and his miracles indicates that through him the kingdom is now breaking in. This is seen in his breathtaking announcement in the synagogue in Nazareth that the prophecy of Isaiah 61 was being fulfilled “today… in your hearing” (Luke 4.16-21).

But it is Jesus’ miracles that constitute strong evidence that the kingdom of God has arrived in the person of Jesus. This is the thrust of Jesus’ dispute with the Pharisees (Matt. 12.22-30): “but if I drive out demons by the Spirit of God, then the kingdom of God has come upon you.” (v.28) In a similar vein, when John the Baptist sends to ask Jesus whether he is “the one who was to come” or not, it is to his miracles that Jesus’ appeals as evidence: “go back and report to John what you hear and see: the blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor.” (Mt. 11.1-5)
Jesus’ answer to John not only indicates that the kingdom is arriving in Jesus, but also gives us important clues as to what the kingdom is that Jesus is bringing in. For it would seem that John’s doubt as to whether Jesus is the one springs from some wrong expectations as to what the kingdom is. As hinted at earlier, John’s expectation was that of imminent purifying judgment (Mt 3.1-12) – “the coming wrath” (v.7), but Jesus’ ministry is not that of judgment, but of deliverance and mercy, of preaching good news to the poor, proclaiming freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, bringing release to the oppressed and proclaiming the year of the Lord’s favour. (Luke 4.18-19, quoting Isaiah 61)

This is a programme of restoration, salvation, liberation – the fulfilment of God’s promises for His people, being accomplished through Jesus – as the people declare in Luke 7.16, “A great prophet has appeared among us… God has come to help his people.” But the picture is more complex than that.

For example, in the early chapters of Mark’s gospel we find that, following the startling evidences that the kingdom is near (chapter 1), there is an escalating conflict between Jesus and the religious leadership of Israel (Mark 2.1-3.6), culminating in their determination to kill him (3.6). In turn, Jesus begins to constitute a new people of God (a new Israel, as indicated by the selection of twelve to be apostles (3.14)) around himself. There is a dramatic reversal of who is in and who is not; in the words of Jesus in Matthew 8.11-12, “many will come from the east and the west, and will take their places at the feast with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven. But the subjects of the kingdom will be thrown outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” Entrance into the kingdom is for those receives the kingdom “like a little child” (Mar 10.15; Luke 18.17) – it is the tax collector who appeals for mercy that is justified before God, not the self-righteous Pharisee (Luke 18.9-14) – Jesus has come for sinners, not for the righteous (Mark 2.17)

Moreover, there is a complexity to the arrival of the kingdom. For, while it is near and, indeed, “has come upon you” it is still to come. This is the importance of many of the parables of the kingdom (Mat 13, Mark 4) – the kingdom arrives in a small, imperceptible way (like a mustard seed), and then there is a period of growth before the kingdom is fully present (the tree). “The mystery of the kingdom is that an interval exists between the inauguration and the consummation of the kingdom”[1]

We need to draw some of these threads together. There was an expectation in Israel that the kingdom of God was coming; both John and Jesus announced that the kingdom was about to break in – through Jesus. But John’s expectation was of purifying judgment, while Jesus’ programme was that the kingdom had arrived in Him now, in a programme of restoration and salvation, especially for the despised & the outcasts, but that the kingdom was also to come – there is a two-stage arrival of the kingdom.

But now we need to factor in the remarable series of events that follow Peter’s recognition that Jesus is the Christ (i.e. the king of the kingdom!) – Jesus’ declarations that the Christ must suffer, die and be raised again, along with his journey to Jerusalem culminating in precisely his suffering, death and resurrection. That this series of events has to do with the kingdom as much as the miracles and kingdom parables do is evidenced by, for example, Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem on the donkey – “blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord” cry the people (Luke 19.38) and “blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David” (Mark 11.10). But what precisely do Jesus’ death and resurrection have to do with the kingdom of God? For Jesus’ triumphal entry does not usher in a political kingdom and the expulsion of the Romans as no doubt some expected (e.g. Luke 19.11).

In a sense, John was right to expect the coming of the kingdom of God to be associated with judgment. Indeed, this is the Old Testament background: “the expectation of a future rule of God in which he fulfills his promises to Israel and subjugates his enemies”[2] And it is also clear as Jesus’ ministry develops, that his rejection by the Jewish establishment is going to bring judgment on them, with God’s people being reconstituted afresh around Jesus.

And so, in the pattern of Isaiah 53, the king himself bears the judgment of God – on the cross – “giving his life as a ransom for many.” (Mark 10.45) Jesus’ new people is a community of sinners, and He himself bears their sins that they may enter into His kingdom. Jesus’ death and resurrection provides the basis for the sinner’s appeal for mercy, which, as we have seen, is the prerequisite for entrance into his kingdom. (cf also Luke 23.42) And it opens the interim day of opportunity between the inauguration and consummation of the kingdom, the day of salvation before the final harvest.

In conclusion, the kingdom of God is, in general terms, God’s climactic act in history to decisively and visibly establish his reign in the world, fulfilling his promises to Israel & ushering in a new creation, defeating his enemies and once and for all. But we see that God’s kingdom arrives in the person of Jesus, indicated by his miracles and teaching, and established by his death and resurrection through which, by bearing the wrath of God, a new people of God are constituted who are the firstfruits of the new creation. A day of salvation is opened as the final consummation of the kingdom is postponed, when the full effects of Jesus’ work will be brought to completion in final judgment and new creation.

[1] Schreiner, T. (2008) New Testament Theology (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker), p.61
[2] Schreiner, p.49

The Soteriology of the Gospel of John

A major theme of John’s Gospel is that Jesus has come into the world from God. He is “the one who came from heaven” (3.13, 31); He has been sent by God the Father (many references!!); He is the light who “has come into the world” (3.19, 12.46), “the bread come down from heaven” (6.32-33, 38, 41-42, 50-51, 58), “the Messiah, the Son of God, who was to come into the world” (11.27) and many similar descriptions besides. Jesus’ origin is a significant point of discussion and dispute throughout the gospel. The Jews debate where he is from during the Feast of Tabernacles (7.27-29, 41-43, 52). It forms part of the dispute between Jesus and the Jews in chapter 8 (e.g. 8.14), and between the Pharisees and the blind man healed by Jesus (9.16, 29-33). Even Pilate asks, “where do you come from?” (19.9)

As the Gospel develops, it becomes increasingly clear that Jesus has not only come into the world from God, but he is also leaving the world and returning to God. (e.g. 13.1) Hinted at during the early parts of John (e.g. 6.62, 7.33-34, 12.35-36), His leaving becomes the backdrop to the urgent discussions during the meal on the night of his betrayal. (chs 13-17)

Jesus is the one who has come from heaven, sent by the Father into the world, to subsequently leave the world and return to the Father. The theme is so pervasive that there is no room to go through all the instances of its occurrence, but the questions that logically flows from it lead us easily into our discussion of soteriology. For what purpose did the Father send the Son into the world? Why did he come, and then leave?

Already in the Prologue, we are alerted to the fact that all is not well with Jesus’ coming into the world, and therefore that all is not well with the world. The world was made through Him but “the world did not recognise him” (1.10); “He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive Him.” (1.11) The world is, in fact, in darkness (cf. 1.5), a darkness that hates the coming of light into the world, because of its evil (3.19-20; 8.12, 12.35-36, 46). The world stands in danger of judgment (3.18), slaves to sin (8.34; cf. 9.41 etc.) and held captive by the devil (8.44, cf 12.31).[1]

The world is in need of salvation. And so, clearly and wonderfully, the message of John’s gospel is that Jesus has indeed come to save the world!

“For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.” (3.17)

“For I did not come to judge the world, but to save the world.” (12.47)

“We know that this man really is the Saviour of the world.” (4.42) (the testimony of the Samaritans)

If the Father sent the Son into the world to save it, we need to ask two further questions: (1) how, precisely, is this salvation achieved? and (2) to what, or for what, is the world saved?

Jesus came to reveal the Father (e.g. 14.9-11), but salvation is not merely revelation – a new knowledge or enlightenment.[2] John’s Gospel inexorably heads towards a climax in which salvation is definitively accomplished. That defining moment – Jesus’ ‘time’ (2.4; 7.8; 7.30 – is his death and resurrection. Several times, from 5.16 onwards, the Jews attempt to seize Jesus in order to kill him, but they are unable to because “his hour had not yet come.” But it is all heading towards his death.

As the third Passover of John’s Gospel draws nearer, the tension mounts until, having been prepared for His burial by Mary’s anointing Him with oil and having entered into Jerusalem as the king on the donkey[3], the arrival of some Greeks seeking to meet Him moves Jesus to declare that “the hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified” (12.23) and “now is the time for judgment on this world; now the prince of this world will be driven out.” (12.31) Now is the time for Jesus to die (12.24, 33) and this is the reason why Jesus came (12.27).

What is the significance of Jesus’ death? The clues are scattered throughout the gospel: He is the Lamb of God (i.e. the sacrificial, passover lamb) who takes away the sin of the world. (1.29) He must be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him. (3.14-15) His flesh is the bread given for the life of the world. (6.51) He is the good shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep (10.11, 17-18). He is the one man who will die for the Jewish nation – “and not only for that nation but also for the scattered children of God, to bring them together and make them one.” (11.50-52) He is to be lifted up from the earth, in order to draw all people to himself. (12.32-33)

Jesus’ death achieves salvation; perhaps the first epistle of John best expresses the significance of this truth:

He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world. (2.2)

This is how we know what love is: Jesus laid down his life for us (3.16)

This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. (4.10)[4]

Because it is an atoning sacrifice that deals with sin, Jesus’ death brings life. The goal of salvation, or what we are saved into or for is life or eternal life. John’s gospel, like a coral reef or estuary, is teeming with life! In Him (the Word) was life (1.4). Whoever believes in Him has eternal life (3.15, 16, 36). Whoever drinks the water offered by Jesus “will become a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (4.13). The Son gives life to whom he is pleased to give it (5.21). He is the bread of heaven that gives life to the world. (6.33) He has come that his sheep may have life, and have it to the full. (10.10) He is the resurrection and the life: anyone who believes in Him will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in him will never die. (11.25-26) And these represent only a selection of relevant texts.

In Jesus is life; He is life, and he offers life to whoever will believe in him. The offer of life is possible because Jesus lay down his life and took it up again. But what is this eternal life that is offered? On the one hand it is the hope of resurrection (e.g. 5.28-29; 6.39-40 etc.). It is, moreover, an ongoing-forever life (e.g. 5.51). It is a qualitatively different life - full life (10.10). It is life that, while with the fuller realisation to come, is entered into now (e.g. 5.24) Finally, “this is eternal life: that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent.” (17.3) Knowing God – in the language of 1 John, “fellowship with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ” (1 John 1.3) – is ultimately what we are saved for, although not in a an individual beatific vision kind of way, since fellowship with (and love for) each other is included within that fellowship with God, both in John 17 and throughout 1 John.

To sum up, the Father sent the Son into the world to save the world. That salvation was accomplished through the death and resurrection of Jesus with the result that whoever believes in Him receives eternal life. That is the soteriology of John’s gospel. To conclude, I wish to offer a couple of reflections.

1. Jesus’ coming precipitates a crisis for the world – and therefore for each one of us. The world was already in darkness, humanity was already enslaved in sin and captive to the devil. But now, with the entrance of the Creator onto the world he has created, the issues are intensifed, the terms of debate subtly altered. Now that he has come, it is with Christ we must reckon. This is shown e.g. in 3.18 where condemnation is issued “because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son.” This should remind us of the vital importance (and glory) of Christ’s coming and give us confidence to keep on preaching Him first and foremost.

2. In examining the soteriology of (mainly) the gospel of John, I have tried to avoid moving too quickly to reading John merely with soteriological questions in view. i.e. I didn’t want to simply structure this paper, say, as (1) what is the problem, according to John? (2) what is the solution? (3) what is the result (or goal) of salvation? I thought it would be more helpful to try to wrestle with some of the themes that shape John itself, and from them draw out the soteriology. Hence me starting with discussing Jesus coming into, and going out of, the world. Whether this approach has worked or not I don’t know, but I certainly found the predominance of that particular theme very striking, and it was helpful for me to then follow through with the soteriological questions from that framework.

3. This study has also reaffirmed for me the centrality of the atoning sacrifice of Jesus’ death. According to Marshall, “there have been repeated attempts to deny the central and sacrificial character of the death of Jesus in this Gospel” but, as Marshall goes on to say, “they can be confidently rejected.”[5] Jesus’s “hour”, the defining moment of his mission, is his death and the clues are sufficient throughout the gospel, and made even clearer in the statements in 1 John quoted above. If Jesus had not died for our sins, there would be no salvation.

this was an assignment I wrote for NTI

References
Carson, D.A. (1991) The Gospel According to John (Leicester: IVP)
Kruse, C.G. (2000) The Letters of John (Leicester: Apollos)
Marshall, I.H. (2004) New Testament Theology: Many Witnesses, One Gospel (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP)


[1] We could add here, the link between sin and the devil in 1 John 3.8-10: “the one who does what is sinful is of the devil” while “the reason the Son of God appeared was to destroy the devil’s work.”
[2] cf. Marshall p.512-3, Carson p.94
[3] in contrast to the previous passover when the crowd tried to make Jesus king by force, not understanding that his kingship was to be exercised by giving his life for the world (ch. 6)
[4] According to Kruse (pp.35, 174-178) the references to blood in 1 John 5.6-7 also refer to the atoning sacrifice of Jesus’ death.
[5] Marshall p.519, fn 40

The Decalogue in Old Testament Missiology

I mentioned in a previous post that I am currently engaged in some part-time theological studies with the Northern Training Institute (director Tim Chester). This is an assignment I wrote in October:

The Decalogue in Old Testament Missiology

The thesis of this paper:
God’s election of Abraham, and therefore the people of Israel, was for the sake of blessing all peoples of the world. Along with the Abrahamic covenant, God’s redemption of Israel from Egypt and the establishment of the covenant are Sinai are formative in shaping Israel’s identity as distinctive among the nations. That distinctiveness is expressed in exclusive devotion to the one true God, righteous living and cultic structures (tabernacle, priesthood, sacrificial system) that allow a holy God to dwell among a sinful people. In turn, that distinctiveness is to be a witness, revealing to the nations something of the character of the God who has bound himself to Israel. The Decalogue plays a foundational role within the Sinai covenant, establishing in a seminal way that God alone is to be worshipped, and that Israel is to live righteously. The Decalogue provides a basis for the polemic against idolatry and wickedness which continues throughout the Old Testament, both of which are perennial threats to the mission of Israel as a means of blessing to the nations. Through Israel’s distinctive witness, the nations are expected to come to know that the LORD alone is God, and the Old Testament looks forward to the time when the nations will come to obey the God who has revealed himself in Israel.

Old Testament Missiology
My starting-point is to take as a given that the whole Old Testament, indeed the whole Bible, is missiological.[1] Mission is not a sub-theme that only a few key texts address, but the theme of the whole. The Bible is a product of God’s mission in the world; it exists because God is working out in history his plan to redeem humanity and restore the cosmos. The Bible as a whole, therefore, should be read with a missional hermeneutic. That is, each part should be interpreted within the unfolding ‘meta-narrative’ of the redemptive history revealed progressively in the Scriptures.

Foundational to Old Testament missiology, and therefore crucial in shaping the hermeneutic with which we come to the Decalogue, are the promises to Abraham and the patriarchs. Following the descent into disaster traced out in Genesis 1-11, which ends with the scattering of the nations, hope re-emerges with God’s calling of Abraham. Notice the dynamic of particularity and universality in Abraham’s call. God chooses Abraham (and therefore his descendants, Israel), not any of the other nations. He is the recipient of special blessings from God; he enters into a uniquely privileged relationship with God. Yet the purpose of this particular election is universal in scope: the big picture is that through Abraham “all peoples on earth will be blessed.” Abraham (and Israel’s) election is for the purpose of mission. God’s mission is to bless all nations (the gospel in advance, according to Paul), but that universal goal has a particular historical method, namely God’s work in the specific history of an individual (Abraham) and the nation that will come from Him, culminating in the coming of the Seed through whom the blessing will be fulfilled. This dynamic of particularity and universality is important for interpreting the rest of the Old Testament.

On this basis, Old Testament missiology could perhaps be summarised as God at work in Israel for the sake of all peoples. Many times in the Old Testament that concern for the nations is explicit; at all times the promise to Abraham to bless the nations through him is the backdrop for all God’s work in the history of His people. With that perspective, we turn to the Decalogue, asking how it functions within God’s mission for all peoples. As we do so, we need to be continually asking what is God doing with the people of Israel (the particular) and how does that function within God’s worldwide mission? (the universal).

The Sinai Covenant
The Decalogue forms part of the series of significant, seminal events in the book of Exodus whose purpose is to shape the identity of Israel as the people of God. The exodus itself establishes Israel’s identity as a redeemed people, a people who only exist as an independent nation because God has graciously chosen to bring them out of slavery. Here too, God’s deliverance of Israel (the particular) serves a wider purpose (the universal) that Pharoah may know the LORD, indeed that God’s name “may be proclaimed in all the earth” (Ex 9.16 cf. 7.17; 8.19, 22-23; 9.14-16; 9.20; 9.29; 18.10-11 etc.)

On leaving Egypt, God did not take the people directly to the land of Canaan, but to the desert, the mountain of God and, most significantly, to Himself (Exodus 19.4). At Sinai, God enters into a deeper covenant relationship with Israel. In a spectacular and terrifying encounter on the mountain, God speaks ‘ten words’ to the people. More detailed instructions are given as to how the people are to live (e.g. Ex 21-23); the tabernacle is constructed, the priesthood is instituted and the sacrificial system set up.

Before coming to the Decalogue itself, it is worth making some remarks about the Sinai Covenant in general, starting with the ‘prelude’ to the covenant in Exodus 19.4-6:

You yourselves have seen what I did to Egypt, and how I carried you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself. Now if you obey me fully and keep my covenant, then out of all the nations you will be my treasured possession. Although the whole earth is mine, you will be for me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.

Notice the following points. Firstly, the covenant obligations given on Mount Sinai do not create the special relationship between God and Israel; that relationship already exists by virtue of the redemption from Egypt (v.4) (and that, in turn, is founded on the promises to Abraham).

Secondly, then, the Sinai covenant that is about to be enacted sets the terms by which that relationship is to be maintained and developed. God’s election and redemption of Israel was unconditional; their continuing relationship with God in covenant is in some sense conditional. If they keep the covenant, they will remain in that special relationship: “you will be my people and I will be your God.”

Thirdly, notice the particular-universal dynamic at work here. God is in a special relationship with Israel. They will be God’s treasured possession, among all the nations. The whole earth is God’s, but, uniquely, they will be a kingdom of priests and a holy nation. What is to take place on Mount Sinai will shape the identity of the people of Israel in ways that will make them unique among the peoples of the world.

One might think that the unique privileging of Israel is the very opposite of God’s mission to bless all the nations. Why only Israel? However, we have already suggested that God’s special work in Israel is for the sake of the nations, and this dynamic is present here, hinted at in the key phrases of verse 6. Israel in covenant with God is to have the dual function of being “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.”[2] Israel’s national life is to be distinctive (a holy nation); they are to be different from the other nations (and, implicitly, seen to be different: ie. the holiness of Israel is to function as a witness to the nations.) And Israel is to play, in some sense, a mediatorial role between God and the other nations (a priestly kingdom).[3] Wright argues that

It is… richly significant that God confers on Israel as a whole people the role of being his priesthood in the midst of the nations. As the people of YHWH they would have the historical task of bringing the knowledge of God to the nations, and bringing the nations to the means of atonement with God. The Abrahamic task of being a blessing to the nations also put them in the role of priests in the midst of the nations… The priesthood of the people of God is thus a missional function that stands in continuity with their Abrahamic election, and it affects the nations.[4]

The function of the Sinai covenant, then, from the perspective of Old Testament missiology, is to constitute Israel as distinctive from the other nations, and therefore a witness to and instrument of blessing to the other nations. In turn, that distinctiveness has a number of intertwining threads. There is to be single-mindedness in their devotion to God: they are not to worship the gods of the other nations (e.g. Exodus 20.3-6, 22-23; 23.24,32-33). They are to be ethically distinctive and not follow the detestable practices of the other nations. (e.g. Leviticus 18.3, 24-28; 20.26)

Above all, it is the presence of God Himself with his people that will make Israel distinctive: (Exodus 33.15-16)
The Lord replied, ‘My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.’

The Moses said to him, ‘If your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here. How will anyone know that you are pleased with me and with your people unless you go with us? What else will distinguish me and your people from all the other people on the face of the earth?

In fact, all the elements of the Sinai covenant can be understood as the terms by which God can and will be present with His people. They are the terms under which “they will be my people and I will be their God”. The tabernacle, priesthood and sacrificial system are all instituted to ‘protect’ that relationship – they control the double danger whereby the people’s sin would contaminate the holiness of God and the holiness of God would break out against the people’s sin. Likewise both idolatry and wickedness are warned against so severely since they would gravely endanger that relationship, as, for example, the incidents of the Golden Calf (Exodus 32-33) and Baal Peor (Numbers 25) show.

The Decalogue
Within the whole Sinai Covenant, the Decalogue plays a pivotal role. That there is something especially significant about the Ten Commandments is shown by a number of textual features. Firstly, these are the words spoken by God in the dramatic encounter on the mountain (Exodus 19.4-20.21), with its thunder, lightning, fire, and smoke. Moreover, it is these words that are written (twice) by the finger of God on tablets of stone (see Exodus 24.12; 31.18; 32.15-16,19; 34.1, 28; Deut 4.13; 5.22; 10.1-5). They are referred to as “the Ten Commandments” in several of these texts, and therefore treated as a distinct ‘thing’ in itself. Finally, the Decalogue is referred to simply as ‘the covenant’ (Deut 4.13; Exodus 31.18; 32.15; 34.28), which suggests that while the Sinai covenant can be understand to include all that took place on that mountain, in another sense, it is the Decalogue that is the key covenantal document.

In the giving of the Decalogue, then, God sets out the foundational obligations that the people of Israel are to keep. It begins with a declaration that reminds us again that the identity of Israel has already been established by God’s gracious deliverance out of Egypt. There then follow ten commands, four of which are primarily concerned with love for God, and six love for neighbour. Israel’s distinctiveness is to look like this: single-minded devotion to God and right living. And the Decalogue is important in Old Testament missiology for these two reasons: the polemic against idolatry and the imperative to righteous living. Those themes are of course found in many places in the Old Testament, but the Decalogue is foundational for those themes for a number of reasons. We have already seen the foundational function of the Decalogue within the Sinai covenant. Furthermore, many of the stipulations of the Decalogue are hinted at and anticipated before Sinai, but it is at the seminal event that they are formalised and emphasised so emphatically. In that way subsequent appearances of those two themes can be seen as the exposition and application of the Decalogue to the people of Israel. Israel are continually being called back to the original Sinai covenant.

The next step in my argument is to briefly trace through the Old Testament these two themes of idolatry and ethics as they are related to mission. In other words, I will be highlighting a number of instances where the polemic against idolatry and the ethical imperative set out so seminally in the Decalogue are applied by the Old Testament itself in the context of Israel’s mission in the world. What follows is illustrative rather than exhaustive.

Ethics and Old Testament Missiology
There are a number of instances where Israel’s ethical life and the witness to the nations are connected somewhat more explicitly. Here are a few examples:

1) Israel’s body of laws is meant to display to the nations that they are a people with “wisdom and understanding”, that they are great in comparison to the other nations both because God is near them when they pray and also because of the righteousness of their laws. (Deuteronomy 4.5-8)

2) Israel’s obedience to the commands of God will establish them as God’s holy people and “all the peoples on earth” will recognise that they are “called by the name of the Lord” (Deuteronomy 28.9-10)

3) Part of Solomon’s prayer at the dedication of the temple: Obedience to the commands of God is an integral factor in God ‘s upholding the cause of Israel, which in turn is “so that all the peoples of the earth may know that the LORD is God and that there is no other.” (1 Kings 8.56-61)

4) There are many texts in the prophets along the lines of “if you, Israel, return to me, I will return to you.” Jeremiah 4.1-2 is remarkable in that, if Israel returns to the Lord – which includes the putting aside of idols and swearing “in a true, just and righteous way”, then “the nations will invoke blessings by him and in him they will boast.”

Leaving aside texts where the ethics-mission link is more explicit, the call for Israel to turn away from wickedness and live rightly is a constant refrain throughout the Old Testament, especially in the prophets. More often than not, the distinctiveness of Israel as God’s special people, in contrast to the other nations, is in view. But if we remember that God’s particular election of Israel serves God’s universal purposes for the nations, then we must conclude that whenever Israel is being called to turn back to God, God’s concern for His reputation among the nations is implicit as well.

Idolatry and Old Testament Missiology
The polemic against idolatry is an aspect of the ethical imperative, for it is wicked not to exclusively worship the one true God. Nevertheless, idolatry is a distinct (though inter-connected) category, and, again, the constant warnings to Israel against idolatry, with their seminal formulation in the Decalogue, are highly significant for the theme of mission in the Old Testament.

Israel are to have “no other gods” before the LORD; neither are they to make and worship any image. And that is not merely because the LORD is their God, but the God; that is, the God that Israel worships is the one true God. And the exclusivity of devotion demanded of Israel is to demonstrate both to Israel and to the nations that the LORD is God and there is no other. (Deuteronomy 4.34, 39)

This is too vast a theme to treat in any detail at this point, but by way of illustration, perhaps Isaiah provides one of the clearest examples of the intertwining of the themes of idolatry and mission. One example will suffice – Isaiah 45.22-24 – where “all the ends of the earth” are called to turn to God and be saved because “I am God, and there is no other.” This is a summons which is made in the context of a sustained polemic against idolatry and repeated declarations of the uniqueness of the LORD.

The polemic against idolatry is the consequence of the Bible’s monotheism. And, as Wright argues, “biblical monotheism is necessarily missional (because the one living God wills to be known and worshiped throughout the whole creation)” while “biblical mission is necessarily monotheistic (because we are to call all people to and to join all creation in the praise of this one living God.”[5]

The Response of the Nations
If Israel in its righteous living and exclusive devotion to God was to be distinctive from the other nations, giving witness to the character of the one true God who had chosen to work in them in this special way, what kind of response was anticipated on behalf of the nations?

At one level, the nations were expected to come to “know the LORD”, at least in the sense of recognising the unique nature of Israel’s God. Some of the texts mentioned earlier point to this. On the other hand, the Sinai covenant was probably not intended as a simple blueprint for the nations to copy: that would go against the unique relationship Israel had with God, and the unique role assigned to them (cf. Romans 3.1-2; 9.4-5) and also the limited nature of the Sinai covenant in relation to the progression of redemption history (cf. Galatians 3.15-22; Hebrews 10.1 etc.).

Nevertheless, there is hope in the Old Testament that the nations will do more than simply recognise from the outside that the LORD is God – they will be incorporated into the people of God, and in doing so will, in some sense, accept the law of God given to Israel. So Isaiah 2.3:

Many peoples will come and say, ‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of God of Jacob. He will teach us his ways, so that we may walk in his paths.’ The law will go out from Zion, the word of the Lord from Jerusalem

But because of Israel’s failure to be what God called it to be, and the provisional nature of the Sinai covenant itself, the turning of the nations to God is something that is only anticipated in the Old Testament: as in Isaiah 2, it is a future hope. And so, only once Christ – the seed through whom blessing would come – had come and done his work, would the way for the nations to be fully incorporated into the people of God – through faith and obedience (Romans 1.5; 16.26)– be made open.

Bibliography
Alexander, T.Desmond (2002) (2nd ed.) From Paradise to Promised Land: An Introduction to the Pentateuch (Carlisle: Paternoster)
Motyer, Alec (2005) The Message of Exodus (Leicester: IVP)
Wright, Christopher (2006) The Mission of God: Unlocking the Bible’s Grand Narrative (Leicester: IVP)

[1] see Wright, Christopher The Mission of God chapter 2 etc. This paper has been influenced heavily by The Mission of God (see bibliography for full reference)
[2] Assuming that Israel fulfils its covenant obligations, which the covenant crisis of Exodus 32-34 puts in grave doubt straight away
[3] This interpretation of “kingdom of priests” is disputed. Motyer The Message of Exodus argues that it refers to the unique access that Israel has into the presence of God; Wright disputes this and argues for the interpretation advocated here. In other words, I’ve copied Wright on this point. See Wright Mission of God pp329-333
[4] Wright Mission of God p.331
[5] Wright Mission of God p.136

Review of Newbigin - The Gospel in a Pluralist Society

Newbigin, Lesslie (1989) The Gospel in a Pluralist Society (London: SPCK)

Summary

In The Gospel in a Pluralist Society, Lesslie Newbigin addresses the question of how Christianity can survive in a culture that is radically pluralistic, (contemporary Britain is particularly in view) a society in which religion is relegated to the sphere of opinion or value (as opposed to ‘facts’), claims to ultimate truth or that one religion is true where others are false are treated with suspicion and hostility and doubt is lauded as far superior to belief.


The first move is to undermine several ‘myths’ of contemporary secular society which are deeply ingrained but decidedly shaky. For example, the fact-value dichotomy is false, since ‘facts’ are always interpreted. What is treated as fact is only known because of its embeddedness in a way of seeing – a plausibility structure. The modern mindset asserts the superiority of its scientific methods because it appeals to reason over and against revelation or tradition. But this, too, is a wrong move. The Christian and the modern pluralist both use reason in interpreting the data of experience, but the former’s framework of thought includes certain things (such as that God has made himself known in Christ) that the latter denies. Moreover, reason always operates out of a tradition – the modern scientific method being no exception – such that we should talk about competing traditions of rationality rather than reason vs tradition.

Newbigin argues that Christianity provides an alternative plausibility structure to pluralism (or indeed to any other dominant worldview), it does not sit comfortably with the way modern society thinks, but that is not something to be ashamed or nervous about since the modern way of thinking has cracks in its roots. The Christian worldview is rooted in the conviction that God has acted decisively in human history (“it is the story of actions by which the human situation is irreversibly changed”) and chosen a community to bear witness to those decisive events. History has a meaning, and the clue is found in the gospel of Jesus Christ. The Christian congregation is the means by which the gospel impacts society; the living out of the Christian faith – as a ‘hermeneutic of the gospel’ – will demonstrate the truth of the Christian message.

Evaluation and Questions

The Gospel in a Pluralist Society is a powerful apologetic for the Christian gospel. Its dissection of the pluralist worldview is brilliant, and its presentation of the Christian alternative of gospel-lived-out communities attractive. I like the emphasis on the events of the gospel giving us the meaning of history and therefore that our own lives in our day fit into an overarching story. There is a strong emphasis on community and on Christians living out the gospel in their secular places of work. Particularly helpful is the confidence that Newbigin gives the Church to be what we are meant to be and to not be intimidated by a hostile pluralistic culture.

However, there are also questions that arise. For example, it is not clear to me precisely how Newbigin is defining either ‘Church’ or ‘gospel’. There are many versions of Christianity: can they all be described as true manifestations of the Church, or are there limits? Given that a true church must embody and teach the gospel, the question then becomes whether there are ‘false gospels’ which in essence disqualify a group from being a true Church. Newbigin’s definition of ‘Church’ would seem to be pretty broad and ecumenical, which perhaps raises the question of how the gospel is being defined. It is something to do with the incarnation, cross, resurrection and return of Christ, but these can be understood in different ways.

A second question is whether Newbigin’s argument actually succeeds in answering the problem of choosing between alternative worldviews (plausibility structures). If the Christian and the modern pluralist worldviews provide competing visions, how is one to adjudicate between them? There is no neutral point of view from which they can be compared. Commitment to one plausibility structure, which, in turn, provides the framework for interpreting the world (and, therefore, evaluating other plausibility structures), is inevitable. How can one know which plausibility structure is true? Newbigin’s answer takes a number of angles. Firstly, we will only know the answer at the end of history. Secondly, it is possible (and, indeed vital for the Christian) to live in two worldviews. That is, it is possible to some extent to enter into the thought patterns of another worldview and hence to be able to critique it from within. Thirdly, Newbigin appeals several times to an argument from Polanyi, namely that subjectivism is avoided when we hold our beliefs (as personally committed subjects) with “universal intent” and “we express that intent by publishing them and inviting all people to consider and accept them” (126) Fourthly, the radical gospel life of the Christian congregation authenticates the message proclaimed. There are knotty epistemological and apologetical issues here, and I don’t know the answers! I wonder whether this view would be sufficient, say, to argue against the Mormon view of the world on this basis.

Thirdly, Newbigin’s views on certain issues are very different to views I have long-thought to be biblical. In particular, I have in mind election (the emphasis on the purpose of election being for mission is superb, but the polemic against the view that God chooses some and not others, I’m not sure that (a) he deals with the biblical evidence sufficiently or (b) that this point is strictly necessary for his main argument anyway) and the status of people of other faiths (basically, the Christian gospel is unique but we cannot say who will be saved in the end). It is beyond the scope of this review to explore these areas any further.

Connections

The importance of analysing and deconstructing our society’s plausibility structures. The Gospel in a Pluralist Society provides a useful starting point. As does Instruments in the Redeemer’s Hands in its getting its hands dirty in the dredging up the idolatries and evil desires of the human heart. Perhaps the former helps on the corporate, social level, and the latter on the individual, heart level. The two books therefore complement each other brilliantly.

The importance of understanding the overarching story of the Bible, and one’s place in it. In other words, having a Christian interpretation of history and the world. This understanding is rooted in the gospel. This story (in the words of Instruments in the Redeemer’s Hands) gives us our identity, purpose and sense of direction.

The importance of living out the gospel in the world. The following quotes are brilliant, in relation to the Christian in his day-to-day and the role of the Christian minister: “the major impact of such congregations on the life of society as a whole is through the daily work of the members in their secular vocations…” (234-5) “The priestly people [in secular vocations] needs a ministering priesthood to sustain and nourish it… we set apart a man or woman to a ministerial priesthood not in order to take away the priesthood of the whole body but to enable it.” (235)

The need for courage in the Christian minister. There is a particularly powerful picture painted at the end of chapter 19 (in relation to Christian teaching) of Jesus “going ahead of his disciples, like a commander leading troops into battle. The words he speaks are thrown back over his shoulder at fearful and faltering followers. He is not like a general who sits at headquarters and sends his troops into battle. He goes at their head and takes the brunt of the enemy attack. He enables and encourages them by leading them, not just by telling them. In this picture, the words of Jesus have a quite different force. They all find their meaning in their central keyword, ‘Follow me’.” (240)

Review - Instruments in the Redeemer's Hands

Tripp, Paul David (2002) Instruments in the Redeemer’s Hands: People in Need of Change Helping People in Need of Change (P & R: Phillipsburg, New Jersey)

Summary
In Instruments in the Redeemer’s Hands (IRH), Paul David Tripp seeks to set forth a biblical model for pastoral counselling. According to Tripp, the task of helping Christians to change is not to be left to trained professionals, but is something to which all Christians are called.
The book can be neatly divided into two. Chapters 1-6 lay down foundations and principles and chapters 7-14 expound Tripp’s model for “serving as an instrument of change.”

[1]

- The gospel teaches us that change is possible – it really is good news! – and that change comes through a person not a system. (chapter 1)
- God changes people as people bring His Word to others, which means not dipping into the Bible randomly, but seeing how our lives fit into the overarching story of redemption. “Lasting change begins when our identity, purpose, and sense of direction are defined by God’s story.” (chapter 2)
- Our status as people in need of help is established by both creation and fall. (chapter 3)
- The central focus is the heart. Not addressing the heart will lead to only superficial change, and indeed can serve to fuel heart-idolatry. (chapters 4-5)
- Christ is our model for being instruments of change. We are called to be ambassadors for God in serving each other in the process of change (chapter 6)

Chapters 7-14 then develop four aspects of a personal ministry relationship that focuses on heart change. We are to love by entering the other person’s world, incarnating the love of Christ to them, identifying with their suffering and accepting them while looking for change. (chapters 7-8) It is vital to get to know the other person, by asking questions and not making assumptions (chapters 9-10). Speaking the truth in love through honest, godly confrontation is vital to helping the other see where their hearts need to change (chapters 11-12). But change hasn’t happened until change has happened, and the goal is to help the other do what is necessary to change, through establishing your own personal ministry agenfa, clarifying responsibility, instilling identity in Christ and providing accountability. (chapters 13-14)

Evaluation
Don Carson commends Mark Dever’s The Deliberate Church for giving an ecclesiology that is both thoroughly biblical and practical.

[2] Something similar could be said of Instruments in the Redeemer’s Hands. The great strengths of IRH are its rootedness in the gospel, biblical theology and a biblical perspective on human nature. The consistent emphasis on the heart as where counselling must focus, with concomitant discussion of themes of idolatry and desire etc. is very helpful, particularly as this fits with an emphasis on the gospel as the means of real change. For the gospel does indeed deal with the human heart – it is the only thing that can! Likewise, Tripp’s approach to the use of Scripture in counselling is helpful. The Bible is not an encylopedia whereby we turn to isolated verses to address issues such as television, schizophrenia or teenagers. Rather, the Bible gives a framework for interpreting life through an overarching story and grand themes that run through the whole.

And on those key foundations, IRH builds a model of personal relationship ministry that is detailed in its practicality. It is one thing to emphasise the gospel, the right use of Scriptures and the importance of the heart, but another thing to apply those truths in ways that will actually practically help people to change! And the second half of IRH achieves that by (a) setting out a biblical approach to particular issues (such as confrontation, the importance of knowing people well) (b) suggesting practical ways to do it (e.g. example questions that could be used to get to know somebody) (c) giving real-life examples of counselling situations that help to see how the principles work out in practice.

[NB. I will address possible weaknesses in the next section, questions]

Questions
IRH emphasises that pastoral counselling is something for all Christians to be involved in. The focus of the book is very much on one-to-one relationships, which leaves me with questions regarding the role of the church in helping each other to grow and change. Is it in the one-to-one relationships that real change takes place? What then of the small group or large congregation gathering, the sermon or bible study? How do these different aspects complement each other? If the focus is on individual change, what about corporate change? Is there a place for an individual’s struggles to be shared in a group wider than a one-to-one relationship (e.g. a homegroup)?

Secondly, in the examples that are given of pastoral problems there does seem to me an abundance of examples of more openly conflictual type problems, such as anger, and less examples of more ‘passive’ issues such as cowardice, depression and indifference etc. – issues which I see more frequently in my own life at least. It would have been good to have given more examples of this kind too.

Connections
Some points that have impressed me:

- “Sinners tend to respond sinfully to being sinned against” (11) People on the receiving end of terrible acts also need to be helped to repent. This can be hard when someone has suffered unjustly, but must be sensitively done. First, though, what is my own response to ‘unfair treatment’ – do I take advantage of the idea of being a victim?

- “Why do we spend hours preparing to teach while we offer important personal direction without a second thought?” (22) People need God’s Word not off-the-cuff personal advice. Will I love others enough to think through prayerfully and biblically what best to say?

- “All of life is counseling or personal ministry” (45) God has made us to be interpreters of ourselves and of the world around us. In addition, the fall means we are susceptible to believing and living on the basis of false interpretations. “We were created with the need for truth outside ourselves to live life properly.” (55) And for this we need each other. Will I strive to be continually seeking to bring God’s interpretation to bear in conversations with others?

- “If we fail to examine the heart and the areas where it needs to change, our ministry efforts will only result in people who are more committed and successful idolaters… We will even use the principles of God’s Word to serve our idols!” (69) Whoah!!

- The challenge of genuine love: “We want ministry that doesn’t demand love that is, well, so demanding! We don’t want to serve others in a way that requires so much personal sacrifice. We would prefer to lob grenades of truth into people’s lives rather than lay down our lives for them.” (118)

- “Asking good questions is doing the work of change.” (173) because it helps people to examine areas of their hearts and lives, it helps them to see themselves in a new light. But it is important not only to ask good questions but also to have someone ask you those questions too.

- “Biblical personal ministry is more about perspective, identity and calling than about fixing what is broken” (185)

- “Our failure to confront one another biblically must be seen for what it is: something rooted in our tendency to run after god-replacements… we fail to confront, not because we love others to much, but because we love ourselves too much.” (201-202) This is a challenge to my unwillingness to challenge and confront where that is the loving thing to do.

[1] There are also 5 appendices, which I haven’t read!
[2] Carson, Don “Foreword” in Dever, Mark & Alexander, Paul (2005) The Deliberate Church: Building your Ministry on the Gospel (Wheaton, Illinois: Crossway) p.p.13-14

Review: Greidanus - The Modern Preacher and the Ancient Text

Note: I have been doing some part-time theological study with the Northern Training Institute since September. It is fantastic. I hope to publish some of the fruits of my studies

Greidanus, Sidney (1988) The Modern Preacher and the Ancient Text: Interpreting and Preaching Biblical Literature (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans)

Summary
The stated purpose of MPAT is “to set forth a responsible, contemporary method of biblical interpretation and preaching.” (xii) Greidanus’ method is to interact heavily with recent biblical scholarship with the aim of drawing out that which is useful for preaching; in other words, he seeks to bridge the gap between hermeneutics and homiletics. (xi) This method is, in turn, rooted in the author’s convictions about what preaching is. (chapter 1) Preaching itself bridges a gap: “the preacher stands at the intersection of the ancient Scriptures and the contemporary congregation and has a responsibility to both.” (341) Preaching is God speaking and acting: it is through preaching that God’s Word in the past (the Scriptures) becomes God’s Word in the present and is applied to church and world. But “since the Bible is the normative source of revelation for contemporary preachers, they must bind themselves to the Scriptures if they would preach the word of God.” (9) And in order to do that, it is essential that the Bible be interpreted responsibly. MPAT therefore is something of a detailed handbook of hermeneutical and homiletical principles that sets out to help the preacher apply the Word of God properly to his congregation.

This approach is developed through the following stages:

• the construction of a “holistic historical-critical method” against a “naturalistic historical-critical method” which destroys confidence in the historical reliability of the Bible, with devastating effects on preaching (chapter 2)


• the development of a holistic framework for interpretation, drawing together literary, historical and theological aspects (chapters 3-5)


• a definition of good preaching as “textual-thematic preaching”, that is, preaching that “is based on a biblical text and expounds the message of that text”, doing so by focussing on the theme of that text. (chapter 6)


• discussion of the relative merits of the narrative and didactic sermon forms and how the gap between form ancient text and modern congregation can successfully be bridged (chapters 7-8)


• focussing all the preceding discussion onto preaching from four specific biblical genres, namely Hebrew narrative, prophecy, gospel and epistle. (chapters 9-12)[1]

Evaluation
The main strength of MPAT is in its strong commitment to preaching as the proper goal of biblical study. Of course preaching merely in itself is not the ultimate goal, but given that it is a, if not the, principle means for God’s work in church and world, it is vital that that means be constructed soundly. And good preaching – preaching that does responsibly bridge the gap between ancient text and modern world – is constantly in view for Greidanus. Thus he not only argues that good preaching is an exposition of a text, and is based on the theme of that text, but he also shows how that can be done. He shows, using a range of hermeneutical tools, how an appropriate text can be selected, how the text’s theme can be discerned, and how a sermon that is both responsible and relevant can be shaped.

A second significant feature of MPAT is Greidanus’ substantial engagement with recent biblical scholarship (although not so recent now, given it was published nearly 20 years ago), while retaining a high view of Scripture. Two of the potential dangers of biblical scholarship are those of (a) creating a chasm between academy and church and (b) allowing the academy to dictate to the church. I think that through his commitment to preaching, Greidanus helpfully brings some of the fruits of biblical scholarship in service to the preacher. A book on preaching or hermeneutics by no means needs to engage all the scholarly issues Greidanus does but it is useful to have at least one book that does.

Questions
One set of questions related to the status of other forms of communicating or ministering God’s Word besides preaching, which are not discussed at all in MPAT.[2] How do the hermeneutical & homilitical principles elucidated in MPAT apply in small group Bible study, one-to-one discipleship, personal witness, personal bible study etc.? Does God speak today through preaching in ways in which he doesn’t through these other forms?

It is also suggestive to set MPAT alongside a book such as Dig Deeper (Beynon & Sach) whose aim is to make available for the ordinary Christian a range of tools for interpreting the Bible, many of which are simplified versions of those found in MPAT. But if the aim of a book like Dig Deeper is to demistify interpretation and enable the ordinary Christian to do what the preacher can do, what is the role of a book like MPAT which seeks to provide a preacher with a deeper, more technical set of tools, beyond the reach of the average Christian? What is the value of the expertise of the preacher?

These issues lead to questions about spiritual gifts, the priesthood of all believers and the role of pastor in the church etc. which are beyond the scope of this review, other than to comment that both the responsibility of each believer to understand and obey the Scriptures and the higher responsibility of the pastor/preacher to teach the church must be affirmed.

Connections
Here are a few points that have impressed me as being important in my own preaching:

• the huge responsibility that comes from the conviction that “God speaks through contemporary preachers” with the concomitant responsibility to work extremely hard to interpret and apply the Bible rightly


• the importance of working hard at the form of the sermon, not just the content. The form can vary, and should be an appropriate vehicle, rather than a hindrance, to the effective communication of the message of the text.


• that it is crucial to discover the theme of the text, but the theme of the sermon is not always identical to the theme of the text, although it is derived from it. E.g. “When the preaching text is from the Old Testament, the theme of the text must be traced through God’s progressive revelation from the Old Testament to the New Testament.” (138)[3]


• The importance of being responsible in deriving application from a text. Greidanus critiques “improper ways of bridging the gap” (159), namely allegorising, spiritualising, moralising and imitating Bible characters, and helpfully shows how application can properly be made. So, for instance, the hermeneutical principle of authorial intent can be used to discern when we are meant to identify ourselves with certain biblical characters. Likewise, rather than comparing Bible characters with people today, we should be asking “how did the original recipients understand this passage?” (171) We can then draw lines to ourselves because of the continuity of God’s covenant people (recognising discontinuity too)
  

In conclusion, MPAT is a helpful resource for aspiring preachers. Its principles are to be appropriated and worked into one’s preaching over a period of time. As a book on preaching it is valuable, but also as limited as any other book on preaching, because one can only truly learn to preach through practice.


[1] NB I had not read these chapters at the time of writing this assignment.
[2] Apart from this brief comment: “Although the Spirit’s speaking is by no means limited to preachers (think of parents, teachers, friends, and neighbours through whom the Spirit speaks today), contemporary preachers have a special responsibility to proclaim the word of the Lord.” (8)
[3] This point seems to be a little different from Mark Dever’s definition of expositional preaching: “taking as the point of the message the point of the passage”