Sermon and Worship Resources

John 1:1-18 · The Word Became Flesh

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was with God in the beginning.

3 Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. 4 In him was life, and that life was the light of men. 5 The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.

6 There came a man who was sent from God; his name was John. 7 He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all men might believe. 8 He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light. 9 The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world.

10 He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. 11 He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. 12 Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God-- 13 children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband's will, but born of God.

14 The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

15 John testifies concerning him. He cries out, saying, "This was he of whom I said, 'He who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me.' " 16 From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another. 17 For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. 18 No one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only, , who is at the Father's side, has made him known.

Miracle On Main Street by Dr. George A. Buttrick

John 1:1-18

Sermon
by Leonard Mann

There’s always mystery on Main Street, and one day the miracle occurred. You look into the mirror. You don’t say, "Who am I?" No, a Voice asks, "Who are you?" You don’t say, "I needn’t be here." No, the Voice says, "It is inevitable that you are here." Try it, and see. You are meant to be here. Then trouble begins. Who meant your life? "My parents," you say. Oh no, parents don’t create life: they only transmit life. We shouldn’t speak about "my children." They are not ours: they are God’s, every one of them unique even to the fingerprint. Then why doesn’t God speak to us? Why is there no audible Voice? Mystery on Main Street!

Thus our doubt of God. Skepticism is rife in our time. That’s not strange: if we grab at things, making the earth hollow with graves and red with blood, we shall forget the sky. But even serious folk, who don’t grab at things, who look in the mirror and ponder life, have their doubts. For instance, why, if God is good, should a tornado strike my city of Louisville in 1975? A group of preachers said in public statement that it was God’s judgement on our sins. Unhappily for those preachers the storm missed the saloons and the brothels, and hit the Baptist Seminary. A jovial cynic might exclaim, "What’s wrong with that?" Well, I hope he’s wrong, because I teach there! More seriously, what of the poor man of sincere faith whose home was destroyed? It is not always easy to believe in God.

There’s a worse cause of doubt: the evil bias in us. We did not make ourselves. Has God slanted us toward evil? Why Watergate? That was worse than a tornado. Of course we ourselves can’t escape responsibility. Adam and Eve were guilty. But where did that snake come from, insinuating, squirming slimily along the ground, with his, "Why don’t you try the forbidden tree? The apples look luscious. It’s your garden, isn’t it?" Why is the world such that we have to struggle to be kind and good, whereas to sin we have only to let go? One of my Harvard students said, "I’m ready to believe that God forgives me, but how can he forgive himself?" Thus the doubt of God even while the fact of creation points to him.

II.

But we return to God, if only to ask how truth survives in a world of lies, advertising lies, political lies (the Viet story is pock-marked with them), church lies, white lies, black lies, grey lies. Only a Power beyond our life keeps truth alive. As for love, how does love survive in our brutal world? Even our doubts testify to God. We can’t doubt nothing: nothing is nothing. So what we doubt is our always present faith. The word atheist is a compound word. It has a prefix "a" which means "not;" and a substance word following, "theos" which means God: "not a believer in God." Thus an atheist can’t describe himself without naming God.

So nobody escapes God for very long. Each of you is unlike anybody else, even to your fingerprint. In God’s creation people are not spun off by the million: everyone is custom made, through our parents (not by them) with a unique life for a unique purpose. So true parents love their child as if he were the only one in the world. Of course, for he is! Cynics may say that love is only a trick of the nerves. If so, we can trust no thought or feeling. Meanwhile we can laugh. I’m not saying that our love proves God’s love. No, the other way round: His love proves our love, for only by his love could we know where our love fails.

All right, you are God’s child. Your obituary (or mine) will read: "Born on such a date in such a place." Whence? Out of the unknown into the known. "Died on such a date in such a place." Out of the known back into the unknown. Our life is beset fore and aft by mystery. Jean Paul Sartre tells us that at death we walk into nothingness. How does he know? He may be very surprised ten seconds after death. Nobody knows, if by "knows" we mean by scientific measurement. But people hope. The train stopped on the Utah desert in a little town. The only green spot on the landscape was the cemetery.

How else do we know God? By judgment. Whatever the mystery of evil, we can’t wash our hands of the wrong we do. Here’s an instance. I found a parking space opposite the front door of a certain colosseum. I pulled beyond the miraculous space so as to back in. The car behind me stole the space front-end first. The attractive lady exclaimed, "Oh, Bill, you shouldn’t!" Bill said, "What the hell!" Exact language, for he’d already arrived at the designated place. I didn’t let the theft trouble me because I’ve often stolen the black man’s place in suburb or pew or store. I mean by keeping my mouth closed. Weren’t we silent far too long about the Viet war? We didn’t stop Communism. We invited it, for Communism thrives on chaos. What has happened is judgment, yes, God’s judgment. We can’t reach heaven through a bombed village. We never escape God.

So sometimes we doubt God, and sometimes we believe. Sometimes God comes flooding in like Atlantic tides up the Bay of Fundy, which tides at the head of the Bay have been known to reach a height of over sixty feet. You have known such moments: the singing of the "Hallelujah Chorus" on Easter Day. At other times God seems to disappear: the tide ebbs, the Bay of Fundy is now miles of mud flats, our prayers go dead. But always out there the mysterious ocean. Even when the tide is out we hear the distant murmur of ifs waves.

III.

One day the Mystery became Miracle: "The Word became flesh." "Word" has a capital W. It means the thrust into creation of God’s purpose. You could take the term literally and not be far wrong. The young man has a thought that only he knows. He gives it speech to a girl: "I love you." Now the thought is known. That was God’s thought. He spoke it, not in the language of lips (we don’t understand celestial language), but in a human life, the Man Christ Jesus. "The Word became flesh." There are two words for "flesh" in the New Testament. One is soma which usually means the whole human order; the other is sarx which means the skin on your bones. Here the word is sarx. Jesus lived your life. He went to work in the morning. He was tired at night. He chatted with friends on the street. The blood spurted when he cut his hand, and his blood had the same constitution as your blood. Don’t say, "He knew all along that he was the Son of God." That turns his temptation into shadow-boxing, and even his death into play-acting. "The Word became the skin on your bones."

How come we ever think about him? He wasn’t popular. He warned us against that cosmetic: "Woe to you when all men speak well of you." He pardoned prostitutes. He healed slobbering lunatics. He touched lepers. He didn’t say what we say: "Religion and politics don’t mix." Incidentally, that’s what the Watergate men said! He rebuked the military clique: "They that take the sword shall perish by the sword." He straightly warned rich men about the danger of big money. In his first sermon (it was in his hometown synagogue), he compared his nation unfavorably with the pagan cities of Tyre and Sidon, and aroused such anger that the congregation tried to kill the preacher. He wasn’t what we have made him: a little holy man peddling platitudes piously to a group of hermits.

No, he wasn’t popular except with the captives, the blind, the oppressed, and anybody else who was hurting, yes, including his enemies. Yes, because they were hurting: they imprisoned the captives. So he lived for the down-and-out, whether rich or poor, the imprisoned, the crippled, the prostitute, the blind, the leper. Was there ever a stranger list of important people? Was ever such love known on our planet? Of course he aroused anger. He punctured the pride of rulers. He exposed the hollow piety of the Temple. He condemned the exorbitant profits of the traders. He never said that "religion and politics don’t mix." He never played it safe. So they killed him. The brutal affair was not "spiritual," a word preachers love. The nails were iron driven through warm flesh, while soldiers at the foot of the Cross gambled for his clothes while he watched.

Then why did we choose him? "For his love," you say. What? For his love drowned in blood and shame? Not a chance! We didn’t choose him: he chose us. He said that plainly: "You have not chosen me, but I have chosen you, and ordained you." Ordained? We love him for his love and because he came back. After Calvary he turned up on a beach in Galilee. "We beheld his glory." That word is born of an Old Testament word, The Shekihan: the blinding radiance of the Mystery of God. We don’t return from death, for we are created: he returned because he is begotten: in "such glory as befits the Father’s only Son." Yet not in panoply of power, still less in shining armor. He was the same Jesus, yet now "he entered the door being shut." It is worth noticing that only those who loved him knew his return. He did not confound Pilate and Caiaphas, or put to flight the Roman armies. The same Jesus. A broadway play calls him "Superstar." How he would have hated and renounced that name!

I keep meeting people who wish they had seen Jesus in the flesh. They’re not thinking beyond their nose-end. There was then no New Testament, no sign of an empty Cross, no Church, no Hallelujah Chorus. Would we have recognized him as the Messiah? As for that, would we recognize him now if he returned in the flesh, say, as a bus driver or electrician? Then we would have belonged to the synagogue crowd, as today we belong to the Church crowd. The synagogue crowd reckoned him a dangerous radical. We probably would have agreed. We might have helped crucify him. We live on the fortunate side of Calvary. As for wishing to meet him in the flesh, are we ready?

How do we know that Jesus was raised from the dead? If by "know" we mean by logic and science, we don’t know. But logic rests on axioms which must be accepted, and by science each of us is worth about three dollars mostly in carbohydrates. But "know" is a profound word. We know because of what happened in three days to his earliest followers: craven men became heroes, blind men suddenly had piercing sight, selfish men began to live in a new kind of love. We know because we have the New Testament with its thousand references to Christ, and not one of them in memoriam. We know because we have the Church, with all its treasures of art, "a thousand years the same," kept by God despite its dark defections.

Dr. Mann has asked his six preachers to tell by some focal text why they cleave to Christ in life-faith. Well, here goes: I’ve studied the Greek Testament for well over sixty years, and thought on Christ day by day. As for his resurrection, he is more real to me than I am to myself. In fact my life is real only because he is real. I have no tape recording or affadavit of his appearance after death. I don’t want such crutches. In any event they would be in Aramaic, and I couldn’t understand them; and anyone could pronounce them forgery. Every word he spoke is to me both judgment and mercy. If I were an atheist, and began to ponder his empty Cross worse than a gallows at the first, how it crossed an ocean, found this new land, made its way to this city and this church, came down the aisle here when we weren’t looking and set itself for worship before our worshiping eyes, I, the atheist, would know that Christ was knocking at the door. Proof? I don’t want it. I would have no option. I prefer to know him through the venture.

IV.

Then what about that tornado that missed the brothels and struck the Baptist Seminary, yes, while I was teaching? Tragedy doesn’t make a detour round the doorstep of a righteous man. We don’t know why, if by "why" we mean some neat explanation. We don’t know; we’re not God; we’re created and human, and our sight is dim. Reinhold Niebuhr used to say that God doesn’t send evil (he doesn’t plant cancers in the brain), he allows evil. I thought at first that Niebuhr was playing with words, but I’ve changed my mind. If God wants us to love him for his own sake, what other kind of world? Not a world of obedient robots! Not a world of always sunny weather as if fabled Camelot! No, in this kind of world I can offer God an unbribed devotion.

There’s an exciting more to be said: "He" (Christ) "came to dwell among us." That means that if God could have made a different world for his deep purposes, he would; and that since he had to make this kind of world he must share it. That’s why I tried to show my Harvard student that God has no need to forgive himself. He is not afar off watching. He lives on Main Street. He bears our burdens, and other burdens which we only dimly guess.

We may not know, we cannot guess
What pains He had to bear.
We only know it was for us
He hung and suffered there.

That word "dwell" refers to the Ark of the Covenant, leading the journey of Israel by day, keeping watch among their huddled tents by night. Therefore the tremendous words of the Creed: "Light of light, God of God, very God of very God, Who for us men and our salvation came down and was made man."

So God in Christ lives on Main Street. He goes where you go. Do you want him to go everywhere you go? He thinks within your thought. He prays within your prayer. I saw his picture in a store window, with this caption: "Wherever you stand the Eyes follow you." So I stood with my back to the window, and watched poeple checking on that caption. Yes, his eyes did follow them! No face was unchanged. Some were troubled. Some smiled. So when grief strikes your home you can say, "He is with me." Soon you’ll learn (maybe you have learned) to read the newspaper with his eyes on the page. You will say, "Oh, the old tired slogans, the famine of love, so-called statesmen playing with annihilation-toys!" Then you will be at odds with your world, but at peace with God. You will be in the foreguard of God’s new world.

We’ve asked about the bias toward evil. What when we adopt the bias? What of our responsible sins? They are worse than blots on a manuscript, for a manuscript can be retyped, but life cannot be relived. There’s nothing we can do to change our record. I’ve read of a medical student who lost a valuable textbook. He was conscripted for medical service in World War II, and assigned to the Aleutian Islands. There in a cave he found the missing book, his name crossed out, and below the name of the thief. Our record is never lost, and it is written in indelible ink. We make amends? Amends would be no better than what we already owe to God and man.

Now look at the Cross. There Christ bore our sins, for such sins as ours killed him. But he bore them away into resurrection-light. The nails went through the hands, through the wood of the Cross, into another Heart, where they were melted into light and fire. God changed a gallows into salvation. Now the Cross is against the skyline of every city, it’s on the jewelry counter in the dime-store, and (wonder of wonders) it is raised over the graves of our dead. About that manuscript which we cannot change. There was a signboard over the Cross: "Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews." That was changed. Pilate intended that it never be changed: "What I have written, I have written." It was a slur against Christ, and a poison message for the Temple. Who changed it? God changed it. It is now all praise: "Jesus of Nazareth, King ..." That’s the word "grace" God’s love in Christ for sinners such as you and me.

"Full of grace and truth." That word "truth" brings this incredible text full circle. It’s another way of saying, "The Word became flesh." For truth is not anything in science or philosophy. Students ask me, "What is your philosophy of life?" I answer: "Heaven help me, I haven’t got any." The amazing thing about our faith in Christ is that truth is not a formula or a concept. For our faith "truth" daringly is a Person. Jesus did not say, "I teach the truth." He said, "I am the truth." "Truth" is his living Spirit. The word (again) in a prefix and a noun:

aletheia. "A" again means "not"! "Letheia" means a veil. "Not veiled" "truth" is the unveiling of the Mystery in Christ. "So the Word became flesh; he came to dwell among us, and we saw his glory, glory such as befits the Father’s only Son, full of grace and truth."

VI.

Dr. Mann has asked me: "Please speak an altar call." Of course, as invitation, with the full honoring of your freedom. You can’t stand everywhere, no even if you twist and spin like a weathervane. You can’t stand nowhere; you have to live by some faith as soon as you leave this church. You can’t stand anywhere, for one faith obviously is not as fine as another. You and I have to stand somewhere. With Christ? Is there any braver place? Any other place where pardon becomes more sure? Any place where such love abounds? So come to him for the first time! Come to him for the second or third time because faith for you has grown dim. Come, and his blessed joy be with you.

CSS Publishing Co., Inc., Meaning Of These Things, The, by Leonard Mann

Overview and Insights · Prologue (1:1–18)

Overview: John’s Gospel doesn’t include a birth story, at least not a conventional one like Matthew and Luke. John provides instead a theological introduction to Jesus. He identifies Jesus as the “Word” (logos) who existed before creation with God and is himself God (1:1). In Greek philosophy the “word” was the principle of reason that governed all things. In Jewish history, the “word” was often associated with God’s wisdom (see Proverbs 8–9), but even more directly with God’s personal self-expression. Notice how much John 1:1 sounds like Gen. 1:1:

Genesis 1:1 “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.”

John 1:1–3 “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made.”

In Genesis 1 God …

The Baker Bible Handbook by , Baker Publishing Group, 2016

John 1:1-18 · The Word Became Flesh

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was with God in the beginning.

14 The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

Commentary · The Prologue

One reason why the Gospel of John was symbolized in the ancient church by the eagle is the lofty heights attained by its prologue. With skill and delicacy John handles issues of profound importance. It comes as no surprise, then, that this prologue has been foundational to the classic Christian formulation of the doctrine of Christ. Here divinity and humanity, preexistence and incarnation, revelation and sacrifice are each discussed with deceptive simplicity. This prologue may well have been an ancient Christian hymn. We know of other hymns from the early church, especially in Paul’s writings, and here too is an artful flowing of language and theology.

The initial allusion to Genesis 1 cannot be missed (1:1). John begins by introducing Jesus as the Word (Greek logos). Here he builds on contemporary Jewish thought where the Word of God took on personal creative attributes (Gen. 1:1–30; Ps. 33:6, 9). In the New Testament period it was personified (Wisdom of Solomon 7:24–26; 18:15–16) and known by some (e.g., Philo) as the immanent power of God creatively at work in the world. John identifies Jesus Christ as this Word and therefore can attribute to him various divine functions such as creation (1:3, 10) and the giving of life (1:4).

But John goes further. He is ready to infer some personal identity between the Logos and God. “And the Word was God” (1:1). Attempts to detract from this literal translation for grammatical reasons (e.g., “the word was a god,” or “divine,” etc.) run aground when we consider the number of other times such a divine ascription is given to Jesus: he employs the divine Old Testament title I AM (e.g., 8:24, 28, 58); he is one with God (10:30); and he is even addressed by Thomas in the Gospel’s final scene as “my Lord and my God” (20:28).

The entry of the Logos into the world (the incarnation) is described as light shining in darkness (1:5). Even though John the Baptist’s testimony is clear (1:6–9), still Jesus experiences rejection (1:10–11). But there is more. The darkness is hostile. There is enmity. John 1:5 says that the “darkness has not overcome [the light].” The Greek term translated “overcome” (RSV; NIV note: “understood”) means “seize with hostile intent” (cf. 8:3–4; Mark 9:18). The hostility of the darkness points to the cross. But as the Book of Glory (13:1–20:31) shows, the power of darkness will not prevail.

John indicates, however, that the light has its followers; Jesus has his disciples (1:12–13). Even though his own people—adherents to Judaism—spurn his message, those who do receive him obtain power to become God’s children. Verses 12–13 anticipate the story of Nicodemus (3:1–21), in which this rebirth is explored. A careful reading of 1 John shows that “children of God” and “born of God” were commonplace terms describing Johannine disciples (1 John 3:2, 9; 4:4, 7, 12–13). In other words, there will be a powerful transformation of those who embrace this light. In the upper room Jesus will draw out the implications: this power will come about through the Spirit, who will quicken each believer (14:15–31).

The prologue’s finale is found in verses 14–18. John sums up in fresh language what has already been said. Now the abstract thought of light and darkness gives way to concrete Old Testament images. John 1:14 is one of the most important verses in the Bible. The Word did not just appear to be human; the Word became flesh. This assertion would have stunned the Greek mind, for which the separation of the divine spirit and the mundane world (Greek sarx, “flesh”) was an axiom of belief. But the second phrase is equally stunning for the Jew. This Word dwelt (Greek skēnoō) among us and revealed his glory. John uses Old Testament terms of the dwelling (literally “tabernacling”) of God with his people. The tabernacle (cf. Exod. 25:8–9; Zech. 2:10) was the dwelling place of God. Now Jesus is the locus of God’s dwelling. Hence, the glory of God, once restricted to the tabernacle (Exod. 40:34), is now visible in Christ. The Old Testament contrast with Jesus is extended to Moses (John 1:17–18), while the benefits of their covenants are compared. Moses gave law; Jesus brought grace. Moses’s request to see God was denied (Exod. 33:20; cf. Deut. 4:12); but Jesus has come to us from the very heart of the Father (John 1:18). The authority of his revelation is that much greater (cf. Heb. 3:1–6).

The Baker Illustrated Bible Commentary by Gary M. Burge, Baker Publishing Group, 2016

The prologue is set apart from the rest of John’s Gospel by its designation of Jesus Christ as the Word (Gr.: logos, vv. 1, 14) rather than “the Son.” The term One and Only (implying sonship) is introduced, however, in verses 14 and 18 and sets the stage for the Gospel’s characteristic emphasis on the Father-Son relationship between God and Jesus.

The prologue also stands somewhat apart from the rest of the Gospel stylistically. The repetition and linking of certain key words lend a special dignity and solemnity to the first twelve verses or so: for example (following the vocabulary and word order of the original Greek), in verse 1: “Word … Word … God … God … Word”; in verses 4–5: “life … life … light … light … darkness … darkness”; in verses 7–9: “for a testimony … to testify about the light … not the light … to testify about the light … the real light … the light that comes into the world”; in verses 10–12: “the world … the world … the world … his own … his own … receive … receive.” In the middle of verse 12 the chainlike repetitions abruptly come to an end. The effect is a marked increase in pace and intensity, building to a small crescendo at the end of verse 13. The reader’s eye rushes through the phrases describing what believers are not (“children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will”) to settle triumphantly on what they are (“born of God”).

Verse 14 brings a subtle change. The writer pauses to reflect on the impact of what he has just said. The message of the first thirteen verses is that the Word became flesh. At the same time the writer injects himself and his community into the story of the Word becoming human. The Word made his dwelling among us . We have seen his glory.… From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another (vv. 14, 16). The prologue can thus be divided into two parts: first, a capsule summary of the Gospel story, beginning in eternity and reaching as far as the present experience of Christian believers (vv. 1–13), and second, the confessional response of these believers to this revelation in history (vv. 14–18).

The distinct style and vocabulary of the prologue has led many scholars to the conclusion that the writer has incorporated into his Gospel, right at the beginning, an early Christian (or pre-Christian) hymn. Pliny, the Roman governor of Asia Minor early in the second century, wrote to the emperor Trajan that Christians “were in the habit of meeting on a certain fixed day before it was light, when they sang in alternate verses a hymn to Christ, as to a god” (Epistles 10.96; trans. D. J. Theron, Evidence of Tradition [Grand Rapids: Baker, 1958], p. 15). Possible fragments of hymns that fit this description are known within the New Testament itself (e.g., Phil. 2:6–11; Col. 1:15–20), and it is also possible (though it cannot be proven) that parts of John 1:1–18 first took shape in the context of Christian worship. But there is no agreement among scholars as to which verses of the prologue belonged to this supposed hymn. Some have attempted to separate poetry from prose, so that when certain prose “insertions” about John the Baptist (vv. 6–8, 15) are removed the remainder can be regarded as the original hymn or poem. Others have proposed even subtler and more complex reconstructions. But the chainlike word repetitions that give the first part of the prologue its stylistic flavor run through the first so-called prose section (vv. 6–8) as well as through the supposed poetry. Though the prologue of John’s Gospel is haunting and in its way poetic, the NIV (like most English versions) prints all of it as prose. If there is an underlying hymn, no sure way has been found of reconstructing it. Whatever its sources, the prologue in its present form is just what it appears to be—the literary introduction to John’s Gospel.

If the introduction had begun at verse 6, there would have been no mistaking the story it intended to tell. Verse 6 begins where Mark’s Gospel begins (and where the narrative portion of John’s Gospel itself gets under way), with John the Baptist (cf. Mark 1:2–5; John 1:19–28). In the written Gospels and in early Christian preaching, his ministry serves to introduce the ministry of Jesus (cf. Acts 10:37; 13:24–25). But the first five verses of the Gospel of John reach back to an earlier beginning, the same “beginning” spoken of in Genesis 1:1, when “God created the heavens and the earth.” The refrain of Genesis (“And God said … and God said …”) finds its equivalent in the prologue’s designation, the Word (cf. Ps. 33:6: “By the word of the LORD were the heavens made, their starry host by the breath of his mouth”).

The purpose of the Gospel writer is to place the story of Jesus in a cosmic perspective. The light that came into the world in Jesus Christ is the same light that illumined every human creature from the beginning. The word that created all things, as well as the life that it created, now finds expression in a particular person and a particular life lived among us. The first few verses of John’s Gospel lay claim to the past, briefly and decisively, on behalf of Jesus Christ. He is here the personification of God’s creative word, just as he will later be seen as the personification of things that the word called into being—light, truth, life and resurrection, bread from heaven, and the vine that God planted. The one who gives life is the Life; the one who speaks truth is the Truth. Above all, Jesus is introduced in the prologue as the Revealer, the one through whom God spoke in the beginning and through whom he continues to speak. Elsewhere in John’s Gospel, Jesus speaks the word, but in the prologue he is the Word, the personal embodiment of all that he proclaims.

The Epistle to the Hebrews introduces Jesus in a remarkably similar way: “In the past God spoke to our forefathers through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom he made the universe” (Heb. 1:1–2). But if John’s Gospel lays claim to the past in much the same way as Hebrews, its center of interest from the prologue on is almost entirely the present and future, not the past. Whatever their wider implications, the immediate function of the opening verses is simply to lay a basis for the irony of the Word’s subsequent rejection in the world: “He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him” (v. 10). The past is not an end in itself. The main purpose of the opening paragraph about God’s creative work through the Word is to lead up to an affirmation about the present: The light shines in the darkness, and “the darkness has not overcome it” (v. 5, NIV margin). The writer boldly passes over the entire Old Testament period in silence. In one breath he speaks of light and life coming into existence at the creation, and in the next he proclaims that same light shining today, unquenched by the darkness around it. The rest of the Gospel makes clear that the reference is to the life and death of Jesus, who came into the world as a light (3:19; 8:12; 12:46) and confronted darkness in the hour of his death (9:4–5; 11:9–10; 12:35–36; 13:30). The light shines in the darkness now, because of Jesus and what he has done.

In verses 6–13 the writer goes back and describes in rapid summary fashion how this light came to shine so triumphantly in a dark world. The story begins in the customary way, with John the Baptist; what is unusual is the insistence that John the Baptist was not the light but merely came … as a witness to the light (v. 8). Like Jesus Christ he was sent as God’s messenger, but the similarity, says the Gospel writer, ends there. Why was such an explanation thought necessary? The most likely reason is that the writer knew of individuals or groups who actually believed that John, and not Jesus, was the light, that is, the decisive revealer of God. Such beliefs are known to have existed by the third century A.D. (see note on 1:8) and John’s Gospel gives evidence of countering them here and elsewhere (cf. 1:20–21; 3:27–30). But though John the Baptist’s role was simply to witness to the light, even as he spoke, the true light was coming into the world (v. 9). The light was in the world (v. 10) in the person of Jesus during John the Baptist’s ministry, even though John was at first unaware of it (cf. 1:31, 33).

If Jesus in the prologue is the personification of the Word, he is no less the personification of the light that the Word produces. The question whether the implied subject of verses 10–12 is the Word or the light is secondary to the observation that in either case it is Jesus. Whatever distinction can be made between the Word and the light has been transcended in him. He (not “it”) was in the world; the world was made through him ; the world did not know him . The Gospel writer is not here recounting a myth or an allegory, in which abstract ideas take on a life of their own, but genuine history, telescoped into a sentence or two but waiting to be developed and expanded in the remainder of the Gospel.

Jesus came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him (v. 11). In the immediate sense his own country was Israel and his own people the Jews. Israel and Judaism were the stage on which the drama of his public ministry was played out. Yet the prologue has just mentioned the world three times within two lines. The context strongly suggests that in a wider sense Jesus’ own country is the world to which he was sent and his own people are human beings of every race or nation, all those on whom God’s light shines (cf. vv. 4, 9). These wider implications will become apparent when Jesus comes to Jerusalem for the last time (cf. 12:19, 32) and when he confronts Pilate and the authority of Rome.

The story of the coming of the light ends with an account of the experience of the writer’s own community. They have done what the rest of Jesus’ own have not done. They have received him as God’s messenger and put their faith in him. They have been given the status of God’s children not by creation or natural descent but by a new and divine begetting. In the words of Jesus to Nicodemus, they have been “born again” (cf. 3:3).

It is from this vantage point that the writer can say, The light shines in the darkness, and “the darkness has not overcome it” (v. 5, NIV margin), and it is from this perspective as well that he reviews how the light came to shine on him and his community. So it was that the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us (v. 14a). The writer’s community comes alive and begins to speak for itself: We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father. Like Isaiah in the temple (cf. 12:41) or like the three disciples at the Transfiguration (cf. Luke 9:32), the writer’s community had seen the glory of God displayed in Jesus Christ. Yet it was not a matter of a particular incident or a single vision. They had seen Jesus’ glory in a whole series of events, from his baptism and the wedding at Cana (cf. 2:11) to his death and resurrection.

The first to see it was John the Baptist, now introduced as the spokesman for the whole Christian community. First, John is identified by means of a quotation of what he once said about Jesus: He who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me (v. 15). Although these words reinforce the prologue’s opening verses on the pre-existence of Jesus, their purpose in their immediate context is to introduce a new testimony from John the Baptist’s lips, that is, that “from his fullness have we all received, grace upon grace,” (v. 16 RSV). Here John speaks no longer as a solitary prophet but as part of the Christian community. He is numbered among those who have “received” Jesus (cf. v. 12). As the messenger through whom others will come to faith (cf. v. 7), he is the appropriate spokesman for them all. Verse 16 is therefore not a testimony that John uttered for himself on one particular occasion but a testimony common to all believers in Jesus. The fullness of Jesus Christ is an expression based on the conviction that Jesus himself was a man full of grace and truth (v. 14), a phrase recalling the description of Stephen in Acts 6:8 (“full of God’s grace and power”) and the more common expression “full of the Holy Spirit” (Acts 6:3, 5; cf. Luke 4:1; John 3:34). If the Spirit in Luke-Acts means “power” (Luke 24:49; Acts 1:8), the Spirit in the Johannine writings means “truth” (John 4:23–24; 14:17; 15:26; 16:13; 1 John 5:6). Grace and truth is therefore a circumlocution for the Holy Spirit. The Spirit that rested on Jesus after his baptism now belongs to all his followers, for Jesus is “he who will baptize with the Holy Spirit” (1:33).

The confession of the believing community probably does not extend beyond verse 16. The tone of verses 17–18 is again didactic and impersonal, like that of verses 1–13, as the writer undertakes to explain concretely the puzzling phrase “grace upon grace” (v. 16, RSV). God’s gift of the Jewish law, he says, makes way for grace and truth, the gift of the Spirit through Jesus Christ. The distinction is not between law and grace as contrasting ways of salvation, but between two gifts of grace: the law and the Spirit (cf. Paul in 2 Cor. 3:7–18). When the writer adds that no one has ever seen God, he apparently has in mind Moses in particular, who was not allowed to see God’s face (Exod. 33:20–23). In Jesus, the limitation imposed on Moses and the Israelites has been taken away (cf. 2 Cor. 3:18). To see the glory of Jesus is to see God’s glory, for he is the One and Only, who came from the Father (v. 14). To see him is to see God (cf. 14:9), for he is God the One and Only (cf. v. 1).

The theme of the prologue has been revelation. Only God can reveal God, whether he is called the Word (v. 1) or the One and Only (v. 18). The deity of Jesus Christ is presupposed throughout, yet the message is not simply that Jesus is God. The message is that because he is God his ministry on earth has made God known to us, and that now at the Father’s side he continues to make God known through the Spirit (cf. 17:26). Throughout this Gospel, we see and hear him doing just that.

Additional Notes

1:1 Was God: The absence in Greek of the definite article with “God” has led some to assume it to be used as an adjective (“the Word was divine”) or even to supply, with polytheistic implications, an indefinite article (“the Word was a god,” the New World Translation of the Jehovah’s Witnesses, 1961). But there are two reasons why Word has the definite article in Greek and God does not: (1) to indicate that Word is the subject of the clause, even though in Greek it follows the verb “to be” (i.e., “the Word was God” and not “God was the Word”) and (2) to indicate that Word and God are not totally interchangeable terms. Though the Word is God, God is more than just the Word; God is also “the Father”, while the Word is identified in v. 14 not as the Father but as the Father’s “One and Only.” In the terms of later debates about Christ, the Word has the very nature of God, but the Word and the Father are not the same person.

1:4 In him was life: There is a question of punctuation in the Greek text: Do the words ho gegonen (lit., “that which has been made”) conclude the thought of v. 3, or begin v. 4? See B. M. Metzger, A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament (London and New York: United Bible Societies, 1971), pp. 195–96. The NIV, like most English versions, appears to presuppose the former by translating “without him nothing was made that has been made”). But the overwhelming evidence of ancient manuscripts and church fathers is that in the early centuries ho gegonen was read as the beginning of v. 4, not the conclusion of v. 3. The point is not that in the Word there was life, but that through the Word life came into being (lit., “what was made in him was life”).

1:8 He himself was not the light. Such a disclaimer about John the Baptist would have an especially pointed meaning over against the belief mentioned in the third-century Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions I, 54: “Some even of the disciples of John [the Baptist], who seemed to be great ones, separated themselves from the people, and proclaimed their own master as the Christ” (ANF 8.92).

1:9 Was coming into the world: The phrase in Greek can go either with every man or with the … light. The context strongly favors the latter. To speak of every human being who was coming into the world is wordy and out of keeping with the prologue’s economy of language. To speak of the light coming into the world lays an intelligible basis for the statement in the next verse that Jesus “was in the world.” If the second alternative is correct, it should be construed, with the NIV, as a periphrastic construction, joining the verb “was” to the participle “coming”: The true light—that gives light to every man—was coming into the world.

1:13 Not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will: lit., “not of bloods, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of the male”; i.e., not by ordinary sexual intercourse initiated by a husband’s desire. They are, of course, born physically by those means, but this is not the birth referred to here.

1:14 The One and Only, who came from the Father: The phrase is more than a metaphor. Jesus does not receive glory as if God were his Father and he the Father’s One and Only, but because that is in fact the case. The language is reminiscent of the baptism of Jesus. The term One and Only (monogenēs) focuses not on birth (as the KJV translation, “only-begotten,” suggests) but on being uniquely the object of a father’s love. It is used in much the same way as “beloved” (agapētos) in the synoptic accounts of the voice from heaven at Jesus’ baptism (Mark 1:11; Matt. 3:17; Luke 3:22). The author of John’s Gospel speaks as if he and his community, like John the Baptist, were eyewitnesses to the baptism of Jesus (cf. “we saw” in v. 14 with “I saw” in v. 32).

1:15 This was he of whom I said. An ancient text known to Origen in the third century (and probably to his Gnostic opponents even earlier) makes most of v. 15 a parenthesis identifying John the Baptist: “This was the one who said, ‘He comes after me, but he is greater than I am, because he existed before I was born.’ ” The effect of this reading is to make v. 16 the actual message that John “speaks” and “has cried out” as a present testimony to the readers of the Gospel. John the Baptist who once said, He … comes after me, etc., now says, From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another, etc. This variant reading was adopted by Westcott and Hort in their Greek New Testament of 1881 (New York: Harper & Brothers) but by no other Greek edition (it is preserved, however, in the New World Translation of 1961 [Brooklyn: Watchtower and Tract Society], and the 1979 translation by Richmond Lattimore, The Four Gospels and the Revelation [New York: Farrar Straus Giroux]). For a defense of this reading and the above translation of it, see J. R. Michaels, “Origen and the Text of John 1:15,” New Testament Textual Criticism: Its Significance for Exegesis. Essays in Honour of Bruce M. Metzger (Oxford: At the Clarendon Press, 1981), pp. 87–104.

1:18 God the One and Only: Some ancient manuscripts lack the identification of the One and Only as God (monogenēs theos in Greek), using monogenēs instead with hyios, the more common Greek word for “son” (i.e., ho monogenēs hyios, “the unique Son,” cf. 3:16; 1 John 4:9). But the reading presupposed by NIV is supported by better manuscripts and in all likelihood is correct. It is very improbable that scribes would have changed such a familiar Johannine expression as “the unique Son” to something so unusual and unfamiliar as God the One and Only.

Understanding the Bible Commentary Series by J. Ramsey Michaels, Baker Publishing Group, 2016

Dictionary

Direct Matches

Blood

The word for “blood” in the Bible is used both literally and metaphorically. “Blood” is a significant biblical term for understanding purity boundaries and theological concepts. Blood is a dominant ritual symbol in biblical literature. Blood was used in sacrifices and purification rites, and it was inherently connected to menstruation, animal slaughter, and legal culpability. Among the physical properties of blood are the ability to coagulate, the liquid state of the substance (Rev. 16:3 4), and the ability to stain (Rev. 19:13). Blood can symbolize moral order in terms of cult, law, and power.

The usage of blood in the OT is predominantly negative. The first direct mention of blood in the biblical text involves a homicide (Gen. 4:10). Henceforward, the shedding of human blood is a main concern (Gen. 9:6). Other concerns pertaining to blood include dietary prohibitions of blood (Lev. 17:10–12), purity issues such as the flow of blood as in menstrual blood (Lev. 15:19–24), and blood as a part of religious rites such as circumcision (Gen. 17:10–11; Exod. 4:24–26).

Leviticus 17:11 contains a central statement in the OT concerning the significant role of blood in the sacrificial system: “The life of a creature is in the blood.” Blood was collected from all animal sacrifices, and blood was poured onto the altar (Lev. 1:5).

The covenant with Abraham was sealed with a covenantal ritual (Gen. 15:10–21). Moses sealed the covenant between the Israelites and God with a blood ritual during which young Israelite men offered young bulls among other sacrifices as fellowship offerings (Exod. 24:5). Moses read the words of the Book of the Covenant and sprinkled the blood of the bulls on the people, saying, “This is the blood of the covenant that the Lord has made with you in accordance with all these words” (Exod. 24:7–8).

During the Passover observance at the time of the exodus, blood was placed on the sides and tops of the doorframes of the Hebrews (Exod. 12:7). Not only altars were sprinkled and thus consecrated with blood, but priests were as well. Aaron and his sons were consecrated by the application of blood to their right earlobe, thumb, and big toe, and the sprinkling of blood and oil on their garments (Exod. 29:20). On the Day of Atonement, the high priest entered the holy of holies and sprinkled blood on the mercy seat to seek atonement for the sins of the people (Lev. 16:15).

Many events in the passion of Christ include references to blood. During the Last Supper, Jesus redefined the last Passover cup: “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” (Matt. 26:28). Judas betrayed “innocent blood” (Matt. 27:4), and the money he received for his betrayal was referred to as “blood money” (Matt. 27:6). At Jesus’ trial, Pilate washed his hands and declared, “I am innocent of this man’s blood” (Matt. 27:24).

The apostle Paul wrote that believers are justified by the blood of Christ (Rom. 5:9). This justification or righteous standing with God was effected through Christ’s blood sacrifice (Rom. 3:25–26; 5:8). The writer of Hebrews stressed the instrumental role of blood in bringing about forgiveness (Heb. 9:22). In the picture of the ideal community of Christ, the martyrs in the book of Revelation are situated closest to the throne of God because “they triumphed over him [Satan] by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death” (Rev. 12:11). The blood of the Lamb, Christ, is the effective agent here and throughout the NT, bringing about the indirect contact between sinner and God.

Children of God

In the OT, heavenly beings or angels are sometimes referred to as “sons of God” (Gen. 6:2; Job 1:6; 2:1; 38:7; Pss. 82:6; 89:6). The more important background for the NT, however, is the use of the term with reference to the nation Israel and the messianic king from David’s line. Israel was God’s son by virtue of God’s unique calling, deliverance, and protection. Hosea 11:1 reads, “When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son.” Similar references to God as the father of his people appear throughout the OT (Exod. 4:22; Num. 11:12; Deut. 14:1; 32:5, 19; Isa. 43:6; 45:11; Jer. 3:4, 19; 31:9, 20; Hos. 2:1). The king from the line of David is referred to as the son of God by virtue of his special relationship to God and his representative role among the people. In the Davidic covenant, God promises David concerning his descendant, “I will be his father, and he will be my son” (2 Sam. 7:14; cf. Pss. 2:7; 89:26). Later Judaism appears to have taken up these passages and identified the coming Messiah as the “son of God.”

Christ

The founder of what became known as the movement of Jesus followers or Christianity. For Christian believers, Jesus Christ embodies the personal and supernatural intervention of God in human history.

Birth and childhood. The Gospels of Matthew and Luke record Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem during the reign of Herod the Great (Matt. 2:1; Luke 2:4, 11). Jesus was probably born between 6 and 4 BC, shortly before Herod’s death (Matt. 2:19). Both Matthew and Luke record the miracle of a virginal conception made possible by the Holy Spirit (Matt. 1:18; Luke 1:35). Luke mentions a census under the Syrian governor Quirinius that was responsible for Jesus’ birth taking place in Bethlehem (2:1 5). Both the census and the governorship at the time of the birth of Jesus have been questioned by scholars. Unfortunately, there is not enough extrabiblical evidence to either confirm or disprove these events, so their veracity must be determined on the basis of one’s view regarding the general reliability of the Gospel tradition.

On the eighth day after his birth, Jesus was circumcised, in keeping with the Jewish law, at which time he officially was named “Jesus” (Luke 2:21). He spent his growing years in Nazareth, in the home of his parents, Joseph and Mary (2:40). Of the NT Gospels, the Gospel of Luke contains the only brief portrayal of Jesus’ growth in strength, wisdom, and favor with God and people (2:40, 52). Luke also contains the only account of Jesus as a young boy (2:41–49).

Baptism, temptation, and start of ministry. After Jesus was baptized by the prophet John the Baptist (Luke 3:21–22), God affirmed his pleasure with him by referring to him as his Son, whom he loved (Matt. 3:17; Mark 1:11; Luke 3:22). Jesus’ baptism did not launch him into fame and instant ministry success; instead, Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where he was tempted for forty days (Matt. 4:1–11; Mark 1:12–13; Luke 4:1–13). Mark stresses that the temptations immediately followed the baptism. Matthew and Luke identify three specific temptations by the devil, though their order for the last two is reversed. Both Matthew and Luke agree that Jesus was tempted to turn stones into bread, expect divine intervention after jumping off the temple portico, and receive all the world’s kingdoms for worshiping the devil. Jesus resisted all temptation, quoting Scripture in response.

Matthew and Mark record that Jesus began his ministry in Capernaum in Galilee, after the arrest of John the Baptist (Matt. 4:12–13; Mark 1:14). Luke says that Jesus started his ministry at about thirty years of age (3:23). This may be meant to indicate full maturity or perhaps correlate this age with the onset of the service of the Levites in the temple (cf. Num. 4:3). John narrates the beginning of Jesus’ ministry by focusing on the calling of the disciples and the sign performed at a wedding at Cana (1:35–2:11).

Galilean ministry. The early stages of Jesus’ ministry centered in and around Galilee. Jesus presented the good news and proclaimed that the kingdom of God was near. Matthew focuses on the fulfillment of prophecy (Matt. 4:13–17). Luke records Jesus’ first teaching in his hometown, Nazareth, as paradigmatic (Luke 4:16–30); the text that Jesus quoted, Isa. 61:1–2, set the stage for his calling to serve and revealed a trajectory of rejection and suffering.

All the Gospels record Jesus’ gathering of disciples early in his Galilean ministry (Matt. 4:18–22; Mark 1:16–20; Luke 5:1–11; John 1:35–51). The formal call and commissioning of the Twelve who would become Jesus’ closest followers is recorded in different parts of the Gospels (Matt. 10:1–4; Mark 3:13–19; Luke 6:12–16). A key event in the early ministry is the Sermon on the Mount/Plain (Matt. 5:1–7:29; Luke 6:20–49). John focuses on Jesus’ signs and miracles, in particular in the early parts of his ministry, whereas the Synoptics focus on healings and exorcisms.

During Jesus’ Galilean ministry, onlookers struggled with his identity. However, evil spirits knew him to be of supreme authority (Mark 3:11). Jesus was criticized by outsiders and by his own family (3:21). The scribes from Jerusalem identified him as a partner of Beelzebul (3:22). Amid these situations of social conflict, Jesus told parables that couched his ministry in the context of a growing kingdom of God. This kingdom would miraculously spring from humble beginnings (4:1–32).

The Synoptics present Jesus’ early Galilean ministry as successful. No challenge or ministry need superseded Jesus’ authority or ability: he calmed a storm (Mark 4:35–39), exorcized many demons (5:1–13), raised the dead (5:35–42), fed five thousand (6:30–44), and walked on water (6:48–49).

In the later part of his ministry in Galilee, Jesus often withdrew and traveled to the north and the east. The Gospel narratives are not written with a focus on chronology. However, only brief returns to Galilee appear to have taken place prior to Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem. As people followed Jesus, faith was praised and fear resolved. Jerusalem’s religious leaders traveled to Galilee, where they leveled accusations and charged Jesus’ disciples with lacking ritual purity (Mark 7:1–5). Jesus shamed the Pharisees by pointing out their dishonorable treatment of parents (7:11–13). The Pharisees challenged his legitimacy by demanding a sign (8:11). Jesus refused them signs but agreed with Peter, who confessed, “You are the Messiah” (8:29). Jesus did provide the disciples a sign: his transfiguration (9:2–8).

Jesus withdrew from Galilee to Tyre and Sidon, where a Syrophoenician woman requested healing for her daughter. Jesus replied, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel” (Matt. 15:24). Galileans had long resented the Syrian provincial leadership partiality that allotted governmental funds in ways that made the Jews receive mere “crumbs.” Consequently, when the woman replied, “Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table,” Jesus applauded her faith (Matt. 15:27–28). Healing a deaf-mute man in the Decapolis provided another example of Jesus’ ministry in Gentile territory (Mark 7:31–37). Peter’s confession of Jesus as the Christ took place during Jesus’ travel to Caesarea Philippi, a well-known Gentile territory. The city was the ancient center of worship of the Hellenistic god Pan.

Judean ministry. Luke records a geographic turning point in Jesus’ ministry as he resolutely set out for Jerusalem, a direction that eventually led to his death (Luke 9:51). Luke divides the journey to Jerusalem into three phases (9:51–13:21; 13:22–17:10; 17:11–19:27). The opening verses of phase one emphasize a prophetic element of the journey. Jesus viewed his ministry in Jerusalem as his mission, and the demands on discipleship intensified as Jesus approached Jerusalem (Matt. 20:17–19, 26–28; Mark 10:38–39, 43–45; Luke 14:25–35). Luke presents the second phase of the journey toward Jerusalem with a focus on conversations regarding salvation and judgment (Luke 13:22–30). In the third and final phase of the journey, the advent of the kingdom and the final judgment are the main themes (17:20–37; 19:11–27).

Social conflicts with religious leaders increased throughout Jesus’ ministry. These conflicts led to lively challenge-riposte interactions concerning the Pharisaic schools of Shammai and Hillel (Matt. 19:1–12; Mark 10:1–12). Likewise, socioeconomic feathers were ruffled as Jesus welcomed young children, who had little value in society (Matt. 19:13–15; Mark 10:13–16; Luke 18:15–17).

Passion week, death, and resurrection. Each of the Gospels records Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem with the crowds extending him a royal welcome (Matt. 21:4–9; Mark 11:7–10; Luke 19:35–38; John 12:12–15). Luke describes Jesus’ ministry in Jerusalem as a time during which Jesus taught in the temple as Israel’s Messiah (19:45–21:38).

In Jerusalem, Jesus cleansed the temple of profiteering (Mark 11:15–17). Mark describes the religious leaders as fearing Jesus because the whole crowd was amazed at his teaching, and so they “began looking for a way to kill him” (11:18). Dismayed, each segment of Jerusalem’s temple leadership inquired about Jesus’ authority (11:27–33). Jesus replied with cunning questions (12:16, 35–36), stories (12:1–12), denunciation (12:38–44), and a prediction of Jerusalem’s own destruction (13:1–31). One of Jesus’ own disciples, Judas Iscariot, provided the temple leaders the opportunity for Jesus’ arrest (14:10–11).

At the Last Supper, Jesus instituted a new Passover, defining a new covenant grounded in his sufferings (Matt. 26:17–18, 26–29; Mark 14:16–25; Luke 22:14–20). He again warned the disciples of his betrayal and arrest (Matt. 26:21–25, 31; Mark 14:27–31; Luke 22:21–23; John 13:21–30), and later he prayed for the disciples (John 17:1–26) and prayed in agony and submissiveness in the garden of Gethsemane (Matt. 26:36–42; Mark 14:32–42; Luke 22:39–42). His arrest, trial, crucifixion, death, and resurrection followed (Matt. 26:46–28:15; Mark 14:43–16:8; Luke 22:47–24:9; John 18:1–20:18). Jesus finally commissioned his disciples to continue his mission by making disciples of all the nations (Matt. 28:18–20; Acts 1:8) and ascended to heaven with the promise that he will one day return (Luke 24:50–53; Acts 1:9–11).

Father

People in the Bible were family-centered and staunchly loyal to their kin. Families formed the foundation of society. The extended family was the source of people’s status in the community and provided the primary economic, educational, religious, and social interactions.

Marriage and divorce. Marriage in the ancient Near East was a contractual arrangement between two families, arranged by the bride’s father or a male representative. The bride’s family was paid a dowry, a “bride’s price.” Paying a dowry was not only an economic transaction but also an expression of family honor. Only the rich could afford multiple dowries. Thus, polygamy was minimal. The wedding itself was celebrated with a feast provided by the father of the groom.

The primary purpose for marriage in the ancient Near East was to produce a male heir to ensure care for the couple in their old age. The concept of inheritance was a key part of the marriage customs, especially with regard to passing along possessions and property.

Marriage among Jews in the NT era still tended to be endogamous; that is, Jews sought to marry close kin without committing incest violations (Lev. 18:6 17). A Jewish male certainly was expected to marry a Jew. Exogamy, marrying outside the remote kinship group, and certainly outside the ethnos, was understood as shaming God’s holiness. Thus, a Jew marrying a Gentile woman was not an option. The Romans did practice exogamy. For them, marrying outside one’s kinship group (not ethnos) was based predominantly on creating strategic alliances between families.

Greek and Roman law allowed both men and women to initiate divorce. In Jewish marriages, only the husband could initiate divorce proceedings. If a husband divorced his wife, he had to release her and repay the dowry. Divorce was common in cases of infertility (in particular if the woman had not provided male offspring). Ben Sira comments that barrenness in a woman is a cause of anxiety to the father (Sir. 42:9–10). Another reason for divorce was adultery (Exod. 20:14; Deut. 5:18). Jesus, though, taught a more restrictive use of divorce than the OT (Mark 10:1–12).

Children and parenting. Childbearing was considered representative of God’s blessing on a woman and her entire family, in particular her husband. In contrast to this blessing, barrenness brought shame on women, their families, and specifically their husbands.

Children were of low social status in society. Infant mortality was high. An estimated 60 percent of the children in the first-century Mediterranean society were dead by the age of sixteen.

Ancient Near Eastern and Mediterranean societies exhibited a parenting style based on their view of human nature as a mixture of good and evil tendencies. Parents relied on physical punishment to prevent evil tendencies from developing into evil deeds (Prov. 29:15). The main concern of parents was to socialize the children into family loyalty. Lack of such loyalty was punished (Lev. 20:9). At a very early stage children were taught to accept the total authority of the father. The rearing of girls was entirely the responsibility of the women. Girls were taught domestic roles and duties as soon as possible so that they could help with household tasks.

Family identity was used as a metaphor in ancient Israel to speak of fidelity, responsibility, judgment, and reconciliation. In the OT, the people of Israel often are described as children of God. In their overall relationship to God, the people of Israel are referred to in familial terms—sons and daughters, spouse, and firstborn (Exod. 4:22). God is addressed as the father of the people (Isa. 63:16; 64:8) and referred to as their mother (Isa. 49:14–17).

The church as the family of God. Throughout his ministry, Jesus called his disciples to follow him. This was a call to loyalty (Matt. 10:32–40; 16:24–26; Mark 8:34–38; Luke 9:23–26), a call to fictive kinship, the family of God (Matt. 12:48–50; Mark 3:33–35). Jesus’ declaration “On this rock I will build my church” (Matt. 16:18) was preceded by the call to community. Entrance into the community was granted through adopting the values of the kingdom, belief, and the initiation rite of baptism (Matt. 10:37–39; 16:24–26; Mark 8:34–38; Luke 9:23–26, 57–63; John 1:12; 3:16; 10:27–29; Acts 2:38; 16:31–33; 17:30; Rom. 10:9). Jesus’ presence as the head of the community was eventually replaced by the promised Spirit (John 14:16–18). Through the Spirit, Jesus’ ministry continues in the community of his followers, God’s family—the church. See also Adoption.

Glory

The tangible presence of God, experienced as overwhelming power and splendor. The main Hebrew word referring to glory, kabod, has the root meaning “heavy” (1 Sam. 4:18), which in other contexts can mean “intense” (Exod. 9:3; NIV: “terrible”), “wealthy” (i.e., “heavy in possessions” [Gen. 13:2]), and “high reputation” (Gen. 34:19; NIV: “most honored”). When used of God, it refers to his person and his works. God reveals his glory to Israel and to Egypt at the crossing of the sea (Exod. 14:4, 17 19). He carefully reveals his glory to Moses after Israel’s sin with the golden calf in order to assure him that he will not abandon them (33:12–23).

In the NT the glory of God is made real in the person of Jesus Christ (John 1:14; Heb. 1:3). He is, after all, the very presence of God. When he returns on the clouds, he will fully reveal God’s glory (Matt. 24:30; Mark 13:26; Luke 21:27).

Grace

Grace is the nucleus, the critical core element, of the redemptive and sanctifying work of the triune God detailed throughout the entire canon of Scripture. The variegated expressions of grace are rooted in the person and work of God, so that his graciousness and favor effectively demonstrated in every aspect of the created realm glorify him as they are shared and enjoyed with one another.

The biblical terminology informing an understanding of grace defines it as a gift or a favorable reaction or disposition toward someone. Grace is generosity, thanks, and good will between humans and from God to humans. Divine expressions of grace are loving, merciful, and effective. The biblical texts provide a context for a more robust understanding of divine gift. The overall redemptive-historical context of grace is the desire of the eternal God to bring glory to himself through a grace-based relationship with his creation. The Creator-Redeemer gives grace, and the recipients of grace give him glory.

Heart

Physiologically, the heart is an organ in the body, and in the Bible it is also used in a number of metaphors.

Metaphorically, the heart refers to the mind, the will, the seat of emotions, or even the whole person. It also refers to the center of something or its inner part. These metaphors come from the heart’s importance and location.

Mind. The heart refers to the mind, but not the brain, and in these cases does not involve human physiology. It is a metaphor, and while the neurophysiology of the heart may be interesting in its own right, it has no bearing on this use of language. Deuteronomy 6:5 issues the command to love God with all one’s heart, soul, and strength. When the command is repeated in the Gospels, it occurs in three variations (Matt. 22:37; Mark 12:30; Luke 10:27). Common to all three is the addition of the word “mind.” The Gospel writers want to be sure that the audience hears Jesus adding “mind,” but this addition is based on the fact that the meaning of the Hebrew word for “heart” includes the mind.

The mental activities of the metaphorical heart are abundant. The heart is where a person thinks (Gen. 6:5; Deut. 7:17; 1 Chron. 29:18; Rev. 18:7), where a person comprehends and has understanding (1 Kings 3:9; Job 17:4; Ps. 49:3; Prov. 14:13; Matt. 13:15). The heart makes plans and has intentions (Gen. 6:5; 8:21; Prov. 20:5; 1 Chron. 29:18; Jer. 23:20). One believes with the heart (Luke 24:25; Acts 8:37; Rom. 10:9). The heart is the site of wisdom, discernment, and skill (Exod. 35:34; 36:2; 1 Kings 3:9; 10:24). The heart is the place of memory (Deut. 4:9; Ps. 119:11). The heart plays the role of conscience (2 Sam. 24:10; 1 John 3:20 21).

It is often worth the effort to substitute “mind” for “heart” when reading the Bible in order to grasp the mental dimension. For example, after telling the Israelites to love God with all their heart, Moses says, “These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts” (Deut. 6:6). Reading it instead as “be on your mind” changes our perspective, and in this case the idiom “on your mind” is clearer and more accurate. The following verses instruct parents to talk to their children throughout the day about God’s words. In order for parents to do this, God’s requirements and deeds need to be constantly on their minds, out of their love for him. Similarly, love for God and loyalty are expressed by meditation on and determination to obey his law (Ps. 119:11, 112). The law is not merely a list of rules; it is also a repository of a worldview in which the Lord is the only God. To live consistently with this truth requires careful, reflective thought.

Emotions and attitude. The heart, as the seat of emotion, is associated with a number of feelings and sentiments, such as gladness (Exod. 4:14; Acts 2:26), hatred (Lev. 19:17), pride (Deut. 8:14), resentment (Deut. 15:10), dread (Deut. 28:67), sympathy (Judg. 5:9), love (Judg. 16:15), sadness (1 Sam. 1:8; John 16:6), and jealousy and ambition (James 3:14). The heart is also the frame of reference for attitudes such as willingness, courage, and desire.

John

A common name in first-century Judaism. The Greek name Iōannēs comes from the Hebrew name “Yohanan.” (1) The Baptist or Baptizer, he was the son of the priest Zechariah and Elizabeth. (See John the Baptist.) (2) The son of Zebedee, he was an apostle originally belonging to the inner circle of the twelve main disciples of Jesus. (See John the Apostle.) (3) John Mark, a cousin of Barnabas (Col. 4:10) and the son of Mary (Acts 12:12). (See Mark, John.) (4) The elder. Both 2 John and 3 John claim authorship by “the elder” (2 John 1; 3 John 1). Traditionally, all three Johannine Letters, the Gospel of John, and sometimes the Revelation of John have been attributed to John the apostle. However, modern scholarship often attributes 2 John and 3 John, and sometimes 1 John, to “the elder”—John the elder. (5) The seer, the author of the book of Revelation (see 1:1, 4, 9; 22:8). Some scholars ascribe the authorship of Revelation to John the apostle, in line with the view of the church father Irenaeus. Other scholars ascribe the writing of Revelation to a certain John the elder. The book of Revelation does not further identify the author. However, the author is among the prophets, a seer, and his name is “John”—hence, John the seer.

Law

In general, Torah (Law) may be subdivided into three categories: judicial, ceremonial, and moral, though each of these may influence or overlap with the others. The OT associates the “giving of the Torah” with Moses’ first divine encounter at Mount Sinai (Exod. 19 23) following the Israelites’ deliverance from the land of Egypt, though some body of customary legislation existed before this time (Exod. 18). These instructions find expansion and elucidation in other pentateuchal texts, such as Leviticus and Deut. 12–24, indicating that God’s teachings were intended as the code of conduct and worship for Israel not only during its wilderness wanderings but also when it settled in the land of Canaan following the conquest.

More specifically, the word “law” often denotes the Ten Commandments (or “the Decalogue,” lit., the “ten words”) (Exod. 34:28; Deut. 4:13; 10:4) that were delivered to Moses (Exod. 20:1–17; Deut. 5:6–21). These commandments reflect a summary statement of the covenant and may be divided into two parts, consistent with the two tablets of stone on which they were first recorded: the first four address the individual’s relationship to God, and the last six focus on instructions concerning human relationships. Despite the apparent simplistic expression of the Decalogue, the complexity of these guidelines extends beyond individual acts and attitudes, encompassing any and all incentives, enticements, and pressures leading up to a thing forbidden. Not only should the individual refrain from doing the prohibited thing, but also he or she is obligated to practice its opposite good in order to be in compliance.

Light

God begins his creation with light, which precedes the creation of sun, moon, and stars and throughout Scripture is an unqualified good (Gen. 1:3 5, 15–18; Exod. 10:23; 13:21). In the ancient world, people rarely traveled at night and usually went to bed soon after sunset. The only light in the home was a small oil lamp set on a stand, which burned expensive olive oil. Light is a biblical synonym for life (Job 3:20; John 8:12). Seeing the light means living (Ps. 49:19; see also Job 33:30). Conversely, darkness is often a symbol of adversity, disaster, and death (Job 30:26; Isa. 8:22; Jer. 23:12; Lam. 3:2).

John, who offers perhaps the most profound meditations on light, claims that God is light (1 John 1:5). The predicate appropriates the intrinsic beauty of light, a quality that draws people’s hearts back to the author of beauty. For the apostle, light represents truth and signifies God’s will in opposition to the deception of the world (John 1:9; 12:46). Light stands for purity and signifies God’s holiness as opposed to the unrighteousness of the world (John 3:19–21). Light is where God is, and it radiates from the place of fellowship between God and his creation (John 1:7).

Moses

Moses played a leadership role in the founding of Israel as a “kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Exod. 19:6). Indeed, the narrative of Exodus through Deuteronomy is the story of God using Moses to found the nation of Israel. It begins with an account of his birth (Exod. 2) and ends with an account of his death (Deut. 34). Moses’ influence and importance extend well beyond his lifetime, as later Scripture demonstrates.

Moses was born in a dangerous time, and according to Pharaoh’s decree, he should not have survived long after his birth. He was born to Amram and Jochebed (Exod. 6:20). Circumventing Pharaoh’s decree, Jochebed placed the infant Moses in a reed basket and floated him down the river. God guided the basket down the river and into the presence of none other than Pharaoh’s daughter (Exod. 2:5 6), who, at the urging of Moses’ sister, hired Jochebed to take care of the child.

The next major episode in the life of Moses concerns his defense of an Israelite worker who was being beaten by an Egyptian (Exod. 2:11–25). In the process of rescuing the Israelite, Moses killed the Egyptian. When it became clear that he was known to be the killer, he fled Egypt and ended up in Midian, where he became a member of the family of a Midianite priest-chief, Jethro, by marrying his daughter Zipporah.

Although Moses was not looking for a way back into Egypt, God had different plans. One day, while Moses was tending his sheep, God appeared to him in the form of a burning bush and commissioned him to go back to Egypt and lead his people to freedom. Moses expressed reluctance, and so God grudgingly enlisted his older brother, Aaron, to accompany him as his spokesperson.

Upon Moses’ return to Egypt, Pharaoh stubbornly refused to allow the Israelites to leave Egypt. God directed Moses to announce a series of plagues that ultimately induced Pharaoh to allow the Israelites to depart. After they left, Pharaoh had a change of mind and cornered them on the shores of the Red Sea (Sea of Reeds). It was at the Red Sea that God demonstrated his great power by splitting the sea and allowing the Israelites to escape before closing it again in judgment on the Egyptians. Moses signaled the presence of God by lifting his rod high in the air (Exod. 14:16). This event was long remembered as the defining moment when God released Israel from Egyptian slavery (Pss. 77; 114), and it even became the paradigm for future divine rescues (Isa. 40:3–5; Hos. 2:14–15).

After the crossing of the Red Sea, Moses led Israel back to Mount Sinai, the location of his divine commissioning. At this time, Moses went up the mountain as a prophetic mediator for the people (Deut. 18:16). He received the Ten Commandments, the rest of the law, and instructions to build the tabernacle (Exod. 19–24). All these were part of a new covenantal arrangement that today we refer to as the Mosaic or Sinaitic covenant.

However, as Moses came down the mountain with the law, he saw that the people, who had grown tired of waiting, were worshiping a false god that they had created in the form of a golden calf (Exod. 32). With the aid of the Levites, who that day assured their role as Israel’s priestly helpers, he brought God’s judgment against the offenders and also interceded in prayer with God to prevent the total destruction of Israel.

Thus began Israel’s long story of rebellion against God. God was particularly upset with the lack of confidence that the Israelites had shown when the spies from the twelve tribes gave their report (Num. 13). They did not believe that God could handle the fearsome warriors who lived in the land, and so God doomed them to forty years of wandering in the wilderness, enough time for the first generation to die. Not even Moses escaped this fate, since he had shown anger against God and attributed a miracle to his own power and not to God when he struck a rock in order to get water (Num. 20:1–13).

Thus, Moses was not permitted to enter the land of promise, though he had led the Israelites to the very brink of entry on the plains of Moab. There he gave his last sermon, which we know as the book of Deuteronomy. The purpose of his sermon was to tell the second generation of Israelites who were going to enter the land that they must obey God’s law or suffer the consequences. The form of the sermon was that of a covenant renewal, and so Israel on this occasion reaffirmed its loyalty to God.

After this, Moses went up on Mount Nebo, from which he could see the promised land, and died. Deuteronomy concludes with the following statements: “Since then, no prophet has risen in Israel like Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face. . . . For no one has ever shown the mighty power or performed the awesome deeds that Moses did in the sight of all Israel” (Deut. 34:10, 12).

The NT honors Moses as God’s servant but also makes the point that Jesus is one who far surpasses Moses as a mediator between God and people (Acts 3:17–26; Heb. 3).

The date of Moses is a matter of controversy because the biblical text does not name the pharaohs of the story. Many date him to the thirteenth century BC and associate him with Ramesses II, but others take 1 Kings 6:1 at face value and date him to the end of the fifteenth century BC, perhaps during the reign of Thutmose III.

Witness

The English term “witness” occurs in both Testaments numerous times, with a wide range of meanings. One common meaning relates to someone who gives legal testimony and to the legitimacy of that testimony (Num. 35:30; Deut. 17:6; 19:15 16, 18; Prov. 12:17; Isa. 8:16, 20). Throughout the NT the term occurs primarily in the context of someone bearing witness—especially God—or testifying to something (Rom. 1:9; 2 Cor. 1:23; Phil. 1:8; 1 Thess. 2:5, 10), though it also has a forensic dimension in regard to one who establishes legal testimony (e.g., Acts 6:13; 7:58; 2 Cor. 13:1; 1 Tim. 5:19; Heb. 10:28).

Central to the concept of witness is the truthfulness of the witness. This was a vital component of the OT concept of witness. Thus, in legal proceedings a lone witness was insufficient to establish testimony against anyone (Deut. 17:6). This principle carries over into the NT (cf. Matt. 18:16; 2 Cor. 13:1). Such truthfulness was so significant that the ninth commandment expressly forbids bearing false witness (Exod. 20:16; Deut. 5:20; cf. Prov. 19:5, 9).

Truth-telling was not something that the people of Israel were called to merely among themselves. They were to be God’s witnesses to the nations (Isa. 43:10; 44:8). As witnesses of God’s existence and holiness, they were called to be separate from the nations (Exod. 19:6) and to be a light to them (Isa. 49:6). Tragically, Israel failed in this responsibility and was deemed “blind” (Isa. 42:19).

The NT continues the concept that the people of God are to be God’s witnesses. John the Baptist is commissioned “to testify concerning that light” (John 1:7). It is in this context that Jesus later declares himself to be “the light of the world” (John 8:12; 9:5). Jesus himself is the exemplar of a “faithful witness” (Rev. 1:5). And his followers, whom he has designated as “the light of the world” (Matt. 5:14), are then called to bear witness to the ends of the earth (Acts 1:8).

“Witness” is also employed in terms of a legal testimony regarding what one has seen. That the disciples were intent on establishing such legal testimony is evident in their stipulation that the person to replace Judas Iscariot be someone from among those who had been with Jesus from the beginning of his ministry to his ascension, so that “one of these must become a witness with us of his resurrection” (Acts 1:22). This forensic aspect of witness appears in the close of the Gospel of John: “This is the disciple who testifies to these things and who wrote them down. We know that his testimony is true” (21:24). Paul demonstrates this forensic concern for witnesses when he references Peter, the Twelve, some five hundred others, and himself as among those who have witnessed the resurrection (1 Cor. 15:3–8).

Throughout Revelation there resides a direct link between Christians bearing witness and suffering, and perhaps dying, as a consequence of this witness. This is evident in the mention of Antipas, who was martyred, and is then designated as “my faithful witness” (Rev. 2:13). Also, the two unnamed witnesses in 11:1–12, who explicitly function as witnesses, are the subject of attack and are eventually murdered. Their murder occurs only after they have finished “their testimony” (11:7).

It is this association of persecution and martyrdom that likely leads to the second-century employment of “martyr” as a designation for those who bear witness to Christ to the point of death.

Word

“Word” is used in the Bible to refer to the speech of God in oral, written, or incarnate form. In each of these uses, God desires to make himself known to his people. The communication of God is always personal and relational, whether he speaks to call things into existence (Gen. 1) or to address an individual directly (Gen. 2:16 17; Exod. 3:14). The prophets and the apostles received the word of God (Deut. 18:14–22; John 16:13), some of which was proclaimed but not recorded. The greatest revelation in this regard is the person of Jesus Christ, who is called the “Word” of God (John 1:1, 14).

The psalmist declared God’s word to be an eternal object of hope and trust that gives light and direction (Ps. 119), and Jesus declared the word to be truth (John 17:17). The word is particularized and intimately connected with God himself by means of the key phrases “your word,” “the word of God,” “the word of the Lord,” “word about Christ,” and “the word of Christ” (Rom. 10:17; Col. 3:16). Our understanding of the word is informed by a variety of terms and contexts in the canon of Scripture, a collection of which is found in Ps. 119.

The theme of the word in Ps. 119 is continued and clarified in the NT, accentuating the intimate connection between the word of God and God himself. The “Word” of God is the eternal Lord Jesus Christ (John 1:1; 1 John 1:1–4), who took on flesh and blood so that we might see the glory of the eternal God. The sovereign glory of Christ as the Word of God is depicted in the vision of John in Rev. 19:13. As the Word of God, Jesus Christ ultimately gives us our lives (John 1:4; 6:33; 10:10), sustains our lives (John 5:24; 6:51, 54; 8:51), and ultimately renders a just judgment regarding our lives (John 5:30; 8:16, 26; 9:39; cf. Matt. 25:31–33; Heb. 4:12).

Direct Matches

Children of God

The Hebrew expression “sons of God” (often translated as “children of God” in contemporary usage) is an important biblical concept and is used to describe a range of referents.

In the OT, the term is used to refer to angels (e.g., Job 1:6). They are subordinate divine beings, carrying out God’s mission on earth (Job 2:1). Compared to them, Yahweh’s incomparability is asserted in divine council (Ps. 89:6; cf. Deut. 32:8 NIV mg.). They are called upon to praise Yahweh for his creation (Ps. 29:1). They shout for joy at God’s creation (Job 38:7). In Gen. 6:2 the term refers to beings that are apparently of divine origin and to be contrasted with the “daughters of men” in that same passage. The sin mentioned in this passage refers to the cohabitation of divine beings and humans. This union is one of the impetuses for the flood, an indication of how bad things had gotten. The “order” of creation (Gen. 1), where humans are meant to be fruitful with their own kind, is here transgressed. Hence, God introduces further disorder by bringing back the waters of chaos to flood the earth.

Israel as a covenant nation is called “my son, my firstborn” by Yahweh (Exod. 4:22; Jer. 31:9; Hos. 11:1). As son, Israel is expected to give proper reverence and honor for his father (Mal. 1:6). Although only one of many metaphors for Israel in the OT, Israel’s status as son is important for understanding the movement of the book of Exodus. Israel is to be delivered from Egyptian rule because Israel is God’s son. If Pharaoh continues to mistreat Israel, God will call judgment upon Egypt’s firstborn, as he did in the plague of death and the Red Sea incident.

Sonship is not exclusive to Israel. The Gentiles are also included in the future of God’s program (Isa. 19:25; Zech. 14:16). Likewise, in the NT all humans are God’s children (Eph. 4:6). More often, though, the term refers to those who are in Christ. The bond is spiritual, and often the concept of adoption is used (John 1:12; Rom. 9:6; Gal. 3:26; 4:5–7; 1 John 5:1). See also Sons of God

Creation

The foundational story in all of the OT is the story of creation, found in Gen. 1–2. Throughout the history of interpretation there have been many approaches to understanding these chapters. In the modern world, discoveries from both science and archaeology have challenged some traditional convictions, and debates continue to rage. Still, what Gen. 1–2 communicates is generally clear: (1) it establishes Yahweh, the God of Israel, as the God by whose word all exists; (2) it presents for ancient readers a compelling argument for why they should worship Israel’s God and not other gods of the ancient world. On this second point, it must be remembered that Israel’s belief in one God flew in the face of contemporary religious notions, where each nation had a high god along with lesser gods. Hence, when reading Gen. 1–2, we must keep in mind its ancient polemical dimension rather than approaching it with modern expectations.

The differing perspectives of Genesis 1 and 2. Even a quick reading of Gen. 1–2 shows that the perspectives on creation in the two chapters are somewhat different. Genesis 1 is ordered famously as a seven-day process, whereby humanity is created as the pinnacle of God’s work on day six. On the seventh day, as is well known, God rested. Much has been made among some Christians about the need to read this chapter literally, but that no longer seems to be the dominant view. Much less is a scientific explanation winning the day (where the details of the text correspond to certain scientific models, which are themselves disputed). A commonly accepted understanding of these chapters among Christians goes by various names, and it attempts to account for the poetic structure of Gen. 1. In Gen. 1:2 we read that the earth was “formless and empty.” What follows is a description of God providing “form” in days one through three and then a corresponding filling of the “emptiness” in days four through six. Hence, in day one God separates light from darkness, and in day four he fills the void with the sun, the moon, and the stars. Day two yields the expanses between the waters and the sky, and day five fills the voids with water creatures and sky creatures. Day three yields the land and vegetation, and day six fills the void with land creatures, the crowning achievement being humanity.

Genesis 2 provides a different perspective on the events. It seems that humanity is created before there were any shrubs or plants. Apart from this difference in order, more important is the focus on Adam and Eve and their role in creation, as those called to work the land together. These two perspectives are not contradictory, since one can easily understand Gen. 2 as explicating Gen. 1:26–30. Modern scholarship has largely assigned these two versions to two different literary sources (see Documentary Hypothesis), a theory based not only on the different perspectives of the two stories but also on other differences, such as language and style. Regardless of the alleged origins of these stories, however, they are presented to us together in the OT. As a unit, along with what follows in Gen. 3–11, these early chapters in Genesis in some ways stand in stark contrast to creation stories of the ancient Mesopotamian world, while at the same time adopting many of the concepts and much of the language of those stories.

Modern and ancient questions. To enter into this discussion is to ask, “What are these opening chapters of Genesis trying to say? How did the Israelites hear the creation story in Genesis?” It sometimes is tempting to read the creation story and ask modern questions. For example, “How does the Genesis creation narrative conform to scientific knowledge?” Modern questions such as these are not, in and of themselves, out of bounds. In fact, they may be unavoidable to a certain degree. But we must remember that ancient Israelites did not ask such questions. In the ancient Near East described in Genesis, which is thousands of years old, there was no science in any sense close to the way we think of it today.

The creation story was written not to answer modern questions but rather to address Israel’s questions. Beginning about the middle of the nineteenth century and into the early twentieth century, archaeologists discovered a number of creation stories from different peoples of the ancient Near East that help put the biblical account in context. These accounts tell stories of creation in which a number of gods are responsible. In one prominent example from ancient Babylon, creation was a result of a bloody conflict among the gods. Genesis 1 shares some of the descriptions of one or more of these other accounts (e.g., light exists before the creation of the sun, the moon, and the stars).

The theology of creation. Where Gen. 1 stands out is in its insistence that Israel’s God alone created the world through his spoken word. The purpose of such a declaration is not to satisfy contemporary intellectual curiosities about the nature of matter or the first moments of the universe’s existence. Its purpose is to declare to the Israelites that their God, not the gods of the ancient world, is responsible for everything there is, and that he alone is the one, therefore, who is worthy of their worship. The creation story is not an intellectual exercise but rather a deeply religious one. The Israelites lived in a world where every surrounding nation had a plurality of gods (pantheon). The Israelites were different. They had one God, and this is the message that rings loud and clear from Gen. 1.

That Yahweh, Israel’s God, is alone the creator is not an abstract theological statement. It is a call to worship. This is why, for example, numerous passages in the OT burst out in praise of Yahweh the creator. One example is Ps. 19. God’s glory is so great and so apparent that even creation itself is said to speak of it. The psalm uses specific Genesis language: the “heavens” and the “firmament” proclaim what God has done (these words occur in Gen. 1:1, 6–8, and the Hebrew words in Gen. 1 and Ps. 19 are the same). Even though the heavens and the firmament have no powers of speech, as the psalm tells us (19:3–4), nevertheless they are “heard” throughout the world because of the awesomeness of the sun’s circuit (19:5–6). The message is this: if you want to see how great God is, look up.

But the psalm does not end there. David is not simply interested in a contemplative posture for his people. Six verses about creation are followed, somewhat abruptly, by eight verses about the law. Clearly, a connection between them is being established, and that connection seems to be fairly straightforward: knowing God as creator should have an effect on how you behave. The God who created the heavens is also the God who gave you the law, David seems to be saying. And as worthy as God is of praise for the creation (even the heavens and the firmament join in), so too is the law. It is to be desired more than gold or sweet honey (v. 10). Knowing God as creator has very practical implications.

Creation and re-creation. Another important recurrence of creation in the OT, which also has practical implications, concerns God’s saving activity. In brief, according to the OT (and the NT as well), when God saves his people, it is an act of “re-creation.” One can see this theme developed in numerous places. For example, God is Israel’s “maker” in texts such as Ps. 95:6; Hos. 8:14. These two texts are found in the context of God having delivered the Israelites from Egypt; their deliverance corresponds to their “creation” as God’s people. Similarly, Isa. 43:14–17 concerns Israel’s captivity in Babylon and what God will do to deliver his people. The prophecy describes their deliverance by using “exodus” language and in doing so refers to Yahweh as Israel’s “Creator” (v. 15).

This connection between creation and redemption (re-creation) is also well articulated in the NT. For example, the opening words of John’s Gospel echo the very first verses of the Bible: “in the beginning.” With the coming of Christ, there is a new beginning. His act of redemption is described as the act of a second or new Adam (Rom. 5:12–21; 1 Cor. 15:22). When one confesses faith in Christ, one is “born again” or “from above” (John 3:3, 7; see also John 1:13; 1 Pet. 1:3, 23). To be a Christian is to start over, to begin anew, or as Paul put it, “If anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” (2 Cor. 5:17). And in Rev. 22:2 paradise is described as containing a “tree of life,” to which God’s people once again have access. At the end, in other words, it will be as it was in the beginning. In the coming of Christ we see a new creation. That new creation is inaugurated in his first coming, where the church, his redeemed people, by the power of the Spirit, live as newly created beings in a fallen world. At his second coming, this new creation will be complete, and all creation will be redeemed.

Darkness

At the beginning of creation, the darkness “over the surface of the deep” is not a primordial principle of chaos to be combated by God (as sometimes suggested), but simply something that prepares for his creation of light in Gen. 1:3. The “thick and dreadful darkness” that came over sleeping Abram (Gen. 15:12) was an indicator of the reception of a mysterious divine revelation involving a manifestation of God in the form of a smoking fire pot and a blazing torch (15:17). Likewise, the thick cloud and darkness that shrouded Mount Sinai (Deut. 4:11; 5:23; Ps. 18:7–10) was a sign of God’s presence and also hid him from the sight of the Israelites.

A plague of darkness was inflicted on Egypt as a prelude to the exodus deliverance (Exod. 10) and made darkness a sign and symbol of God’s judgment. In prophetic teaching, the coming “day of the Lord” in judgment upon Israel and the nations is “a day of darkness and gloom” (Joel 2:2, 31; Amos 5:18–20; Zeph.1:14–15). The wicked will be thrust into darkness (Prov. 4:19; Isa. 8:22). Jesus used such imagery when speaking of punishment in hell (e.g., Matt. 22:13; 25:30). The moral life of a believer involves turning away from deeds of darkness (Eph. 5:8–11; 1 Thess. 5:4–8).

Darkness is associated with Sheol and death (e.g., Job 10:21; 17:13) and so also becomes a metaphor of a situation of distress, especially life-threatening danger (Ps. 107:10, 14). In contrast, the dispelling of darkness becomes a metaphor of God’s saving help in Isa. 9:2: “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light” (cf. Isa. 10:17). That salvation will include the provision of a future Davidic ruler (Isa. 9:6–7), so that the coming of Jesus is the dawning of light (John 1:5; 12:35).

This rich OT background gives a context to the three-hour period of darkness as Jesus hung on the cross (Matt. 27:45). This began at the sixth hour (i.e., noon) and signaled that the judgment day was taking place as Jesus suffered in the place of sinners (cf. Amos 8:9).

Dwelling

Dwelling can refer to a place (“building, residence” [e.g., Exod. 15:17; Acts 7:46]) or an action (“to reside” [e.g., 1 Sam. 2:29]). While dwelling characterizes people’s residence (Gen. 27:39; Num. 24:21; Prov. 24:15; Isa. 32:18; Hab. 1:6; Zeph. 3:6–7), God’s sanctuary, where the ark of the covenant resides (Exod. 25–26; Ps. 132:8), is described as his dwelling among his people (Exod. 15:13, 17; Lev. 15:31; 26:11; 1 Sam. 2:29, 32; 1 Chron. 9:19; Zech. 2:13). Both the tabernacle (2 Sam. 7:6; 15:25; 1 Chron. 16:1) and the temple (2 Chron. 31:2; 36:15; Pss. 84:1; 132:5; Ezek. 3:12; Mic. 1:2–3) are so described. A sanctuary for the needy and oppressed (Pss. 27:5; 31:20; 68:5), it is also a post from which God watches the earth (Pss. 33:14; 132:6–9). God himself can also be described as a “dwelling” in which people seek refuge (Pss. 90:1; 91:9; Ezek. 37:27).

Deuteronomy, perhaps in an effort to eliminate any misconception of God’s omnipresence or in reaction to the destruction of the first temple, describes the sanctuary as the “dwelling for his Name” (Deut. 12:11; 14:23; 16:2, 6, 11; 26:2; cf. 1 Kings 8:29; Isa. 18:2–7; Jer. 7:12), while Kings and Chronicles (1 Kings 8:30, 39, 43, 49; cf. 1 Chron. 17:5; 2 Chron. 6:21, 30, 33, 39; 30:27) maintain that God’s dwelling is in heaven and not on earth. As Solomon confesses, not even the heavens can contain God, let alone a temple (1 Kings 8:27; cf. Ps.74:7; Jer. 25:30). Some prophets and writings refer to Jerusalem, the location of the now destroyed temple, as the “dwelling of God” (e.g., Ezra 7:15; Jer. 31:23; Lam. 2:6), while others prefer the “dwelling place of God’s Name” (e.g., Neh. 1:9; Isa. 18:7).

Job’s friend Bildad identifies the dwelling of an evil person as one characterized by calamities (Job 18:5–21), while Job, who wants to make his claim of innocence to God, laments his inability to locate God’s dwelling (23:3).

Jesus is described in John’s Gospel as the Word (logos) of God that dwelled or “tabernacled” (skēnoō) among humans (John 1:14). Paul describes believers as groaning in waiting to be clothed with their “heavenly dwelling,” by which they attain immortality (2 Cor. 5:2–4), and says that they are being built into a dwelling of God’s Spirit (Eph. 2:22). This latter sentiment is echoed in Revelation, which says that the new city of God will need no physical temple because God and the Lamb themselves are the temple, dwelling among the people (21:3, 22; cf. 1 Cor. 3:16–17).

Father

Most families in the ancient world were agrarian or engaged in raising livestock. Families that lived in cities led preindustrial lifestyles, often dwelling in cramped quarters. The majority of families resided in rural areas and villages.

Marriage was not an arrangement merely between two individuals; rather, marriage was between two families. Family members and kin therefore took precedence over individuals. In the worlds of both Testaments, authority within families and communities was determined by rank among kin. Christianity was looked upon with hostility because it overthrew foundational values of Jewish and even Greco-Roman tradition. Service rather than rank became normative in family and community relationships.

Patriarchal Structures

A patrilineal system ruled in ancient Israel. Every family and every household belonged to a lineage. These lineages made up a clan in which kinship and inheritance were based on the patriarchs, the fathers of the families. These clans in turn made up larger clan groups and then tribal groups. The later Hellenistic and Roman world maintained patriarchal and patrilineal social structures as well.

Family discipline was in the hands of the father, the patriarch. The honor of the father depended on his ability to keep every family member under his authority (1 Tim. 3:4). Other male members of the family assisted the father in defending the honor of the family (Gen. 34).

Aristotelian Household Codes

Not only was the biblical world patriarchal (male dominated), but also the later societal influence by Greek philosophers impacted the biblical text. The ancient Greeks viewed the household as a microcosm of society. Greek philosophers offered advice regarding household management, seeking to influence society for the greater good. This advice was presented in oral and written discourses known as “household codes.” Aristotle’s household codes, written in the fourth century BC, were among the most famous. Such codes consisted of instructions on how the paterfamilias (the male head of the household) should manage his wife, children, and slaves. The Stoic philosopher Arius Didymus summarized Aristotle’s household codes for Caesar Augustus. He argued, “A man has the rule of this household by nature, for the deliberative faculty in a woman is inferior, in children it does not yet exist, and in the case of slaves, it is completely absent.”

The Aristotelian household codes appear to be the background to NT texts that, at face value, appear to treat women as inferior to men (Eph. 5:22–6:9; Col. 3:18–4:1; 1 Pet. 3:1–7). All these texts are set in a Greco-Roman matrix, and the advice given to the congregations seems to have been of contextual missional value for the sake of the gospel rather than as a guide for family living for all times in all contexts.

Marriage and Divorce

Marriage in the ancient Near East was a contractual arrangement between two families, arranged by the bride’s father or a male representative. The bride’s family was paid a dowry, a “bride’s price.” Paying a dowry was not only an economic transaction but also an expression of family honor. Only the rich could afford multiple dowries. Thus, polygamy was minimal. The wedding itself was celebrated with a feast provided by the father of the groom.

Marriage among Jews in the NT era still tended to be endogamous; that is, Jews sought to marry close kin without committing incest violations (Lev. 18:6–17). A Jewish male certainly was expected to marry a Jew. Exogamy, marrying outside the remote kinship group, and certainly outside the ethnos, was understood as shaming God’s holiness. Thus, a Jew marrying a Gentile woman was not an option. The Romans did practice exogamy. For them, marrying outside one’s kinship group (not ethnos) was based predominantly on creating strategic alliances between families.

In Jewish customs, marriage was preceded by a period of betrothal. This state of betrothal was legally binding and left the survivor of the man’s death a widow. A betrothed couple, like Joseph and Mary (Matt. 1:18), did not live together or have sexual intercourse. Yet their union was as binding as marriage and could be dissolved only through death or divorce.

Children, Parenting, and Education

Childbearing was considered representative of God’s blessing on a woman and her entire family, in particular her husband. In contrast to this blessing, barrenness brought shame on women, their families, and specifically their husbands.

Abortion commonly took place in the Greco-Roman world. Women therefore had to be encouraged to continue in their pregnancies (1 Tim. 2:15).

Children were of low social status in society. Infant mortality was high. An estimated 60 percent of the children in the first-century Mediterranean society were dead by the age of sixteen.

Early education took place in the home. Jewish education was centered around the teaching of Torah. At home it was the father’s responsibility to teach the Torah to his children (Deut. 6:6–7), especially his sons. By the first century, under the influence of Hellenism, Judaism had developed its own school system. Girls, however, did not regularly attend school. Many of the boys were educated in primary and secondary schools, learning written and oral law. Sometimes schools were an extension of the synagogues. Roman education was patterned after Greek education. Teachers of primary schools often were slaves. Mostly boys attended schools, but in some cases girls were allowed to attend school as well.

Family as an Analogy

The relationship between Israel and God. Family identity was used as a metaphor in ancient Israel to speak of fidelity, responsibility, judgment, and reconciliation. In the OT, the people of Israel often are described as children of God. In their overall relationship to God, the people of Israel are referred to in familial terms—sons and daughters, spouse, and firstborn (Exod. 4:22). God is addressed as the father of the people (Isa. 63:16; 64:8) and referred to as their mother (Isa. 49:14–17).

The prophet Hosea depicts Israel as sons and daughters who are offspring of a harlot. The harlot represents faithless Israel. God is portrayed as a wronged father and husband, and both children and wife as rebellious and adulterous (Hos. 1–3). Likewise, the prophet Jeremiah presents the Mosaic covenant as a marriage soured by the infidelity of Israel and Judah (e.g., Jer. 2:2–13). The familial-marriage metaphor used by the prophets is a vehicle for proclaiming God’s resolve to go beyond customary law and cultural expectations to reclaim that which is lost. A similar picture of reclaiming and restoring is seen in Malachi. One interpretation of Mal. 4:6 holds that it implicitly preserves an eschatological tradition of family disruption with a future restoration in view. The restored family in view is restored Israel.

The church as the family of God. Throughout his ministry, Jesus called his disciples to follow him. This was a call to loyalty (Matt. 10:32–40; 16:24–26; Mark 8:34–38; Luke 9:23–26), a call to fictive kinship, the family of God (Matt. 12:48–50; Mark 3:33–35). Jesus’ declaration “On this rock I will build my church” (Matt. 16:18) was preceded by the call to community. Entrance into the community was granted through adopting the values of the kingdom, belief, and the initiation rite of baptism (Matt. 10:37–39; 16:24–26; Mark 8:34–38; Luke 9:23–26, 57–63; John 1:12; 3:16; 10:27–29; Acts 2:38; 16:31–33; 17:30; Rom. 10:9). Jesus’ presence as the head of the community was eventually replaced by the promised Spirit (John 14:16–18). Through the Spirit, Jesus’ ministry continues in the community of his followers, God’s family—the church. See also Adoption.

Flesh

Beyond its obvious literal sense, “flesh” denotes the physicality of one’s life in this world, often in contrast to the spiritual dimension. Both the OT (Heb. she’er, basar) and NT (Gk. sarx) use “flesh” to refer to the physical dimension of human existence, often assigning varying degrees of figurative and contextual nuances to the word. “Flesh” as the cover term for fallen humanity and sinfulness is a distinctive NT development. For example, the expression “all flesh” in the OT is often merely equivalent to the collective human race (e.g., Gen. 6:12; Isa. 40:5 KJV). Even when the term is used in contrast to “spirit” (e.g., Isa. 31:3; Jer. 17:5), “flesh” is not so much “antispiritual” as “nonspiritual.” John even refers to the mystery of incarnation as the Word becoming flesh (John 1:14).

It is mostly in Paul’s letters that we find clear depiction of flesh as the seat of the carnal and sinful nature of humanity. The flesh stands for the totality of destructive effects of the original sin on the human nature. Thus, the flesh is in essence the sinful nature that Adam left for all subsequent generations to inherit (Gal. 5:17). Before it is redeemed and transformed, it is “sinful flesh” (Rom. 8:3 NRSV) waiting to be condemned by the holy God and his law, and inevitably leading to death (7:5). It is inseparable from lust (Gal. 5:16; 1 Pet. 4:2). In the reprobate, unregenerate state, human nature in its entirety is under the control of the flesh (Eph. 2:3). Since corrupt humans basically sow the flesh and reap the flesh, they can neither please God nor obey the law (Rom. 8:3, 8). It is significant that salvation is expressed in terms of overcoming the flesh. In wrapping up an exhortation regarding spiritual life, Paul concludes that those who nailed their flesh to the cross along with its passions and desires are “those who belong to Christ Jesus” (Gal. 5:24).

Glory

The tangible presence of God, experienced as overwhelming power and splendor. The main Hebrew word referring to glory, kabod, has the root meaning “heavy” (1 Sam. 4:18), which in other contexts can mean “intense” (Exod. 9:3; NIV: “terrible”), “wealthy” (i.e., “heavy in possessions” [Gen. 13:2]), and “high reputation” (Gen. 34:19; NIV: “most honored”). When used of God, it refers to his person and his works. God reveals his glory to Israel and to Egypt at the crossing of the sea (Exod. 14:4, 17–19). He carefully reveals his glory to Moses after Israel’s sin with the golden calf in order to assure him that he will not abandon them (33:12–23).

God’s glory is often associated with a cloud. Perhaps better stated, God’s glory often is intentionally obscured by a cloud so that people are not overwhelmed by the radiance of his presence. Such is the case on top of Mount Sinai as Moses ascends it (Exod. 24:15–18). God’s glory as associated with the cloud is also closely connected to the tabernacle and the temple. When the tabernacle is completed, God makes his presence known there by filling it with the cloud that represents his glory (Exod. 40:34–38). Later, the temple too is filled with God’s glory made manifest in the cloud (1 Kings 8:10–11). The ark of the covenant, the most potent symbol of God’s presence, is also seen as a manifestation of his glory (1 Sam. 4:21–22).

God’s glory is overwhelming, and human beings cannot experience its fullness and survive. Thus, glory is often connected with God’s acts of judgment. For instance, when Korah the Levite and Abiram the Reubenite rebel in the wilderness, God appears ready for judgment against the people in the form of the glory-cloud (Num. 16:19–21), though Moses’ intercession spares the bulk of the people from the judgment that comes on the leaders of the rebellion (see also 16:41).

The Psalms celebrate God’s glory. Psalm 24 is an example. The original setting of the psalm is likely the return of the ark of the covenant from the battlefield. The priest at the head of the army, led by the ark, asks a priest or gatekeeper, “Lift up your heads, you gates; be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.” The priestly gatekeeper asks, “Who is this King of glory?” eliciting the response, “The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle.” Many other psalms share this theme or call on Israel to glorify the Lord (see Pss. 29:9; 34:3; 63:3; 104:31 as examples).

The prophets have the privilege of intimate fellowship with God and profound experiences of God’s glory. Isaiah accepts his commission as a prophet in a vision of the throne room of God. He sees angelic figures calling out: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory” (Isa. 6:3). Ezekiel reports an amazing encounter with God in his glory that causes him to fall facedown on the ground (Ezek. 1:28).

God

For Christians, God is the creator of the cosmos and the redeemer of humanity. He has revealed himself in historical acts—namely, in creation, in the history of Israel, and especially in the person and work of Jesus Christ. There is only one God (Deut. 6:4); “there is no other” (Isa. 45:5). Because “God is spirit” (John 4:24), he must reveal himself through various images and metaphors.

Imagery of God

God’s character and attributes are revealed primarily through the use of imagery, the best and most understandable way to describe the mysterious nature of God. Scripture employs many images to describe God’s being and character. Some examples follow here.

God is compared to the father who shows compassion and love to his children (Ps. 103:13; Rom. 8:15). The father image is also used by the prophets to reveal God’s creatorship (Isa. 64:8). Jesus predominantly uses the language of “Father” in reference to God (Mark 8:38; 13:32; 14:36), revealing his close relationship with the Father. God is also identified as the king of Israel even before the Israelites have a human king (1 Sam. 10:19).

The Psalter exalts Yahweh as the king, acknowledging God’s sovereignty and preeminence (Pss. 5:2; 44:4; 47:6–7; 68:24; 74:12; 84:3; 95:3; 145:1). God is metaphorically identified as the shepherd who takes care of his sheep, his people, to depict his nature of provision and protection (Ps. 23:1–4). The image of the potter is also employed to describe the nature of God, who creates his creatures according to his will (Jer. 18:6; Rom. 9:20–23). In Hos. 2:4–3:5 God is identified as the long-suffering husband of the adulterous wife Israel. In the setting of war, God is depicted as the divine warrior who fights against his enemy (Exod. 15:3).

God is also referred to as advocate (Isa. 1:18), judge (Gen. 18:25), and lawgiver (Deut. 5:1–22). The image of the farmer is also frequently adopted to describe God’s nature of compassionate care, creation, providence, justice, redemption, sanctification, and more (e.g., Isa. 5:1–7; John 15:1–12). God is often referred to as the teacher (Exod. 4:15) who teaches what to do, as does the Holy Spirit in the NT (John 14:26). The Holy Spirit is identified as the counselor, the helper, the witness, and the guide (John 14:16, 26; 15:26). God is often metaphorically compared to various things in nature, such as rock (Ps. 18:2, 31, 46), light (Ps. 27:1), fire (Deut. 4:24; 9:3), lion (Hos. 11:10), and eagle (Deut. 32:11–12). In particular, the Davidic psalms employ many images in nature—rock, fortress, shield, horn, and stronghold (e.g., Ps. 18:2)—to describe God’s perfect protection.

Last, anthropomorphism often is employed to describe God’s activities. Numerous parts of the human body are used to speak of God: face (Num. 6:25–26), eyes (2 Chron. 16:9), mouth (Deut. 8:3), ears (Neh. 1:6), nostrils (Exod. 15:8), hands (Ezra 7:9), arms (Deut. 33:27), fingers (Ps. 8:3), voice (Exod. 15:26), shoulders (Deut. 33:12), feet (Ps. 18:9), and back (Exod. 33:21–22).

Names and Attributes of God

The OT refers to God by many names. One of the general terms used for God, ’el (which probably means “ultimate supremacy”), often appears in a compound form with a qualifying word, as in ’el ’elyon (“God Most High”), ’el shadday (“God Almighty”), and ’el ro’i (“the God who sees me” or “God of my seeing”). These descriptive names reveal important attributes of God and usually were derived from the personal experiences of the people of God in real-life settings; thus, they do not describe an abstract concept of God.

The most prominent personal name of God is yahweh (YHWH), which is translated as “the Lord” in most English Bibles. At the burning bush in the wilderness of Horeb, God first revealed to Moses his personal name in sentence form: “I am who I am” (Exod. 3:13–15). Though debated, the divine name “YHWH” seems to originate from an abbreviated form of this sentence. Yahweh, who was with Moses and his people at the time of exodus, is the God who was with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. According to Jesus’ testimony, “the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob” is identified as the God “of the living” (Matt. 22:32). Hence, the name “Yahweh” is closely tied to God’s self-revelation as the God of presence and life. (See also Names of God.)

Many of God’s attributes are summarized in Exod. 34:6–7: “The Lord, the Lord, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished; he punishes the children and their children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation.” Below are further explanations of some of the representative attributes of God.

Holiness. The moral excellence of God is the attribute that underlies all other attributes. Thus, all God’s attributes can be modified by the adjective holy: holy love, holy justice, holy mercy, holy righteousness, holy compassion, holy wisdom, and so forth. God is the only supremely holy one (1 Sam. 2:2; Rev. 15:4). God’s name is also holy; those who profane God’s name are condemned as guilty (Exod. 20:7; Lev. 22:32). God is depicted as the one who has concern for his holy name, which the Israelites profaned among the nations; God actively seeks to restore the holiness of his defiled name (Ezek. 36:21–23). God’s holiness is revealed by his righteous action (Isa. 5:16). Not only is God holy, but also he expects his people to be holy (Lev. 11:45; 19:2). All the sacrificial codes of Leviticus represent the moral requirements of holiness for the worshipers. Because of God’s character of holiness, he cannot tolerate sin in the lives of people, and he brings judgment to those who do not repent (Hab. 1:13).

Love and justice. Because “God is love,” no one reaches the true knowledge of God without having love (1 John 4:8). Images of the father and the faithful husband are frequently employed to portray God’s love (Deut. 1:31; Jer. 31:32; Hos. 2:14–20; 11:1–4). God’s love was supremely demonstrated by the giving of his only Son Jesus Christ for his people (John 3:16; Rom. 5:7–8; 1 John 4:9–10). God expects his people to follow the model of Christ’s sacrificial love (1 John 3:16).

God’s justice is the foundation of his moral law and his ways (Deut. 32:4; Job 34:12; Ps. 9:16; Rev. 15:3). It is also seen in his will (Ps. 99:4). God loves justice and acts with justice (Ps. 33:5). God’s justice is demonstrated in judging people according to their deeds—punishing wickedness and rewarding righteousness (Ezek. 18:20; Ps. 58:11; Rev. 20:12–13). God establishes justice by upholding the cause of the oppressed (Ps. 103:6) and by vindicating those afflicted (1 Sam. 25:39). God is completely impartial in implementing justice (Job 34:18–19). As with holiness, God requires his people to reflect his justice (Prov. 21:3).

God keeps a perfect balance between the attributes of love and justice. God’s love never infringes upon his justice, and vice versa. The cross of Jesus Christ perfectly shows these two attributes in one act. Because of his love, God gave his only Son for his people; because of his justice, God punished his Son for the sake of their sins. The good news is that God’s justice was satisfied by the work of Jesus Christ (Rom. 3:25–26).

Righteousness and mercy. God’s righteousness shows his unique moral perfection. God’s nature, actions, and laws display his character of righteousness (Pss. 19:8–9; 119:137; Dan. 9:14). “Righteousness and justice” are the foundation of God’s throne (Ps. 89:14). God’s righteousness was especially demonstrated in the work of Jesus Christ (Rom. 3:21–22). God’s righteousness will ultimately be revealed in his final judgment (Rev. 19:2; 20–22; cf. Ps. 7:11).

The English word “mercy” renders various words in the original languages: in Hebrew, khesed, khanan, rakham; in Greek, charis, eleos, oiktirmos, splanchnon. English Bibles translate these variously as “mercy,” “compassion,” “grace,” “kindness,” or “love.” The word “mercy” is chosen here as a representative concept (cf. Ps. 86:15). God’s mercy is most clearly seen in his act of forgiving sinners. In the Psalter, “Have mercy on me” is the most common form of expression when the psalmist entreats God’s forgiveness (Pss. 41:4, 10; 51:1). God’s mercy is shown abundantly to his chosen people (Eph. 2:4–8). Because of his mercy, their sins are forgiven (Mic. 7:18), their punishments are withheld (Ezra 9:13), and even sinners’ prayers are heard (Ps. 51:1; Luke 18:13–14). God is “the Father of mercies” (2 Cor. 1:3 NRSV).

God keeps a perfect balance between righteousness and mercy. His righteousness and mercy never infringe upon each other, nor does one operate at the expense of the other. God’s abundant mercy is shown to sinners through Jesus Christ, but if they do not repent of their sins, his righteous judgment will be brought upon them.

Faithfulness. God’s faithfulness is revealed in keeping the covenant that he made with his people. God “is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commandments” (Deut. 7:9). God is faithful to his character, his name, and his word (Neh. 9:8; Ps. 106:8; 2 Tim. 2:13; Heb. 6:13–18). God’s faithfulness is clearly seen in fulfilling his promise (Josh. 23:14). God showed his faithfulness by fulfilling all the promises that he made to Abraham (Gen. 12:2–3; Rom. 9:9; Gal. 4:28; Heb. 6:13–15), by having Solomon build the temple that he promised to David (2 Sam. 7:12–13; 1 Kings 8:17–21), and by sending his people into exile in Babylon and returning them to their homeland (Jer. 25:8–11; Dan. 9:2–3). God’s faithfulness was ultimately demonstrated by sending Jesus Christ, as was promised in the OT (Luke 24:44; Acts 13:32–33; 1 Cor. 15:3–8).

Goodness. Jesus said, “No one is good—except God alone” (Mark 10:18). God demonstrates his goodness in his actions (Ps. 119:68), in his work of creation (1 Tim. 4:4), in his love (Ps. 86:5), and in his promises (Josh. 23:14–15).

Patience. God is “slow to anger” (Exod. 34:6; Num. 14:18), which is a favorite expression for his patience (Neh. 9:17; Pss. 86:15; 103:8; Joel 2:13). God is patient with sinful people for a long time (Acts 13:18). Because of his patient character, he delays punishment (Isa. 42:14). For instance, God was patient with his disobedient prophet Jonah and also with the sinful people of Nineveh (Jon. 3:1–10). The purpose of God’s patience is to lead people toward repentance (Rom. 2:4).

God of the Trinity

The Christian God of the Bible is the triune God. God is one but exists in three persons: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (Matt. 28:19). The Son is one with the Father (John 10:30); the Holy Spirit is one with God (2 Sam. 23:2–3). All three share the same divine nature; they are all-knowing, holy, glorious, and called “Lord” and “God” (Matt. 11:25; John 1:1; 20:28; Acts 3:22; 5:3–4; 10:36; 1 Cor. 8:6; 2 Cor. 3:17–18; 2 Pet. 1:1). All three share in the same work of creation (Gen. 1:1–3), salvation (1 Pet. 1:2), indwelling (John 14:23), and directing the church’s mission (Matt. 28:18–20; Acts 16:6–10; 14:27; 13:2–4).

Grace

The biblical terminology informing an understanding of grace defines it as a gift or a favorable reaction or disposition toward someone. Grace is generosity, thanks, and goodwill between humans and from God to humans. Divine expressions of grace are loving, merciful, and effective. The biblical texts provide a context for a more robust understanding of divine gift. The overall redemptive-historical context of grace is the desire of the eternal God to bring glory to himself through a grace-based relationship with his creation. The Creator-Redeemer gives grace, and the recipients of grace give him glory.

Old Testament

Genesis. The grace of the creation narratives is summarized with the repeated use of the term “good” (Gen. 1:4, 10, 12, 18, 21, 25, 31). God is good, and he made a good creation with abundant gifts for Adam and Eve to enjoy. When Adam and Eve rebelled against God, he righteously judged and graciously provided for an ongoing relationship. God clothed the naked Adam and Eve (3:21) and announced that the seed of the woman would yield a redeemer (3:15).

Grace in the postcreation narratives (Gen. 4–6) is focused on individuals. God looked with favor on Abel and his offering (4:4), and Noah found grace in God’s eyes (6:8). God looked at and had regard for the offering of Abel (Gen. 4). Jacob confessed to Esau that God graced him with descendants and with possessions (33:5).

Grace and graciousness also characterize interaction between individuals. The Jacob and Esau exchange uses grace vocabulary for the gift and the disposition of grace. Jacob invited Esau to accept his gift if he had a favorable disposition toward him (Gen. 33:11). The covenant son Joseph received favorable treatment from the prison warden because of his disposition toward him (39:21).

Exodus. The exodus narrative recounts how the seed of Abraham multiplies, is redeemed, and then is given the law, which defines the relationship of God to Israel. All these events are tied to the gracious promises that God made to Abraham and his descendants (Gen. 12; 15; 17; see also Gen. 21; 27).

The grace associated with the redemption of Israel from Egypt is celebrated in the song of Exod. 15. God’s victory over the Egyptian army and his covenant fidelity to the patriarchs are the song’s themes. Moses and the Israelites sing because God heard Israel’s groaning; he remembered his covenant with Abraham and looked on Israel with concern (2:24). God made Egypt favorably disposed toward Israel (3:21) and parted the sea for Israel to escape (11:3; 12:36). The confession “He is my God . . . my father’s God” ties together major sections of redemptive history and affirms the constancy of God’s grace throughout the periods (15:2). God’s tenacious covenant loyalty (khesed) to the nation and his covenant grace (15:13) to Israel cannot be merited.

The giving of the law in Exod. 20 is prefaced by a gracious and powerful presentation of God to the nation in Exod. 19. In the organization and development of Exod. 19–20, grace themes emerge. The grace associated with redemption and covenant life is marked in Exod. 19. God took Israel from Egyptian bondage, redeemed it, and brought the nation to himself (19:4). Through this action, the nation will become a special treasure, a holy nation, a kingdom of priests (19:5–6). In sum, Israel exists because God created, loved, and redeemed it.

Second, the Decalogue of Exod. 20 follows upon the redemption effected by God, defining how Israel will relate to its God. In this sense, law is viewed as a gift that expresses the divine will. When compared and contrasted with ancient Near Eastern laws, Torah reflects the grace of God’s character and his genuine concern for the poor, slaves, aliens, and widows. In addition, there is a grace ethic that motivates obedience to the law. The motivational statements in the Decalogue in Exod. 20 relate to the grace of redemption (v. 2), the righteousness of God (vv. 4–7), the creation work of God (vv. 8–11), and long life (v. 12).

Exodus 32–34 is a key passage that links the covenant with grace terminology. This section begins with the story of the golden calf (chap. 32) and ends with the account of Moses’ radiant face (34:29–35). The grace terminology is observed in 33:19; 34:6–7. The context of 33:19 involves Moses meeting with God face-to-face. According to 33:12–17, Moses wanted to know who would be left after the purge of 33:5. He acknowledged God’s favor in his life and wondered who else might enjoy it. Moses reminded God that the nation was his people (33:13). The grace of this account is God’s assurance of his presence with Israel and the unmerited purposeful expression of his grace.

Exodus 34:6–7 employs a series of adjectives in a grace confessional statement. This statement arises out of God’s instructions to Moses to cut two new tablets of stone like the first ones (34:1; see also 24:12), which were broken after the incident of the golden calf (32:19). God descended in a cloud, stood with Moses, and proclaimed his name to him (34:5). The rhetoric of the passage emphasizes the speech of God, who defines himself in connection with covenant making. God is merciful and gracious, long-suffering, and distinguished by steadfast love.

Grace and covenant loyalty. These key passages are foundational for understanding the grace and steadfast loyalty of God expressed in the subsequent events of covenant history. Grace and khesed are expressed in connection with covenant curse implementation (Num. 14:18; Hos. 4:1; 6:4, 6), in the overall structure of Deuteronomy (5:10; 7:9, 12), in the Davidic covenant (2 Sam. 7:15; 1 Chron. 17:13), in the future hope of Israel (Isa. 54:8), in restoration (Jer. 32:18), in the new covenant (Jer. 31:31), and in exile (Dan. 9:4).

To round out the OT discussion, we may note that covenant siblings were to be gracious and loyal in their ongoing relationships with one another. The book of Ruth illustrates covenant grace in action (2:2, 10, 13). In addition, grace is to be expressed toward the poor (Prov. 28:8), the young and the old (Deut. 28:50), and those who suffer (Job 19:21).

New Testament

The NT focus of grace is developed in keeping with the foundation laid in the OT. The triune God is the center and source of grace: it is the grace of God (Rom. 1:7), the Spirit of grace (Heb. 10:29), and the grace of Christ (John 1:17). The grace of God revealed in the OT is unveiled uniquely in the person and work of Christ.

The Gospel of John. The canonical development of the grace theme between the Testaments is explained in the opening chapter of John’s Gospel. Jesus Christ is the Word, who was with God, who is God, and who created the world (John 1:1–3). Christ then became flesh and dwelled among us (1:14). In doing so, he made known the glory of God to us. At this point in the development of chapter 1, John connects Christ (the Word) with the adjectives describing God in Exod. 34:6 to affirm that Christ has the very same virtues that God has. The assertion in John 1:17 that Jesus is full of grace and truth parallels the statement in Exod. 34:6 of God’s steadfast love and faithfulness. In Christ we are able to see the glory that Moses hoped to see in God (John 1:18). Christ is both the message and the messenger of grace and truth.

The Epistles and Acts. The NT Epistles develop the “full of grace and truth” statement about Christ (John 1:14) in several ways. The grace and truth found in Christ are given to his servants (1 Cor. 1:4) and are a reason for praise (2 Cor. 8:9; Gal. 1:6, 15; Eph. 4:7; 1 Tim. 1:2; 2 Tim. 2:1). This grace from Christ is effective in bringing about redemption and sustaining a life of godliness. Ephesians 2:8–9 is the classic statement affirming that God’s favor is the source of salvation. Paul makes this point by repeating “it is by grace” in 2:5, 8 and clarifying the grace of salvation with the “it is the gift of God” statement in 2:8. This design of salvation celebrates the incomparable riches of Christ’s grace and the expression of his kindness to us (cf. Eph. 1:7). Salvation is devoid of human merit, gifts, or favor (2:8). Keeping the law as a means of entrance into a relationship with God and as a means of gaining favor with God is antithetical to the nature of grace. God’s favor expressed to people in salvation is an expression of his sovereign will.

Romans 5 declares many of the same themes found in Eph. 2. In Rom. 5 Paul contrasts the action and result of Adam’s transgression with the obedience of Christ. Salvation is God’s grace and gift brought by the grace of one man, Jesus Christ (v. 15). The gift and grace of Christ brought about justification.

The effective operation of God’s grace in salvation is illustrated in the historical narratives of Acts. The men involved in the heated debate of the Jerusalem council (Acts 15:2) affirmed the salvation of the Gentiles by grace after hearing the report of Barnabas and Paul (15:12). Those in Achaia (18:27) are another illustration of an effective operation of grace.

The grace of God that saves is also the grace that sanctifies. Titus 2:11 declares that redemptive grace instructs the redeemed to say no to a life of ungodliness. The instructional nature of grace is highlighted in the development of the Titus 2 context. The teacher in 2:1–10, 15 is Titus, who is to nurture godly people. There is a change of instructors in 2:11, with grace now teaching. Redemptive grace works in harmony with sanctifying grace to provide for godly living.

According to Titus 3:8, those who trust in the generosity of God’s grace should devote themselves to doing what is good. By God’s grace, justified sinners will find their delight and satisfaction in the promises of God for a life of persevering godliness.

Grace also functions as an enablement for life and ministry. Paul often rehearses this feature of grace in his letters. In Rom. 1:5 Paul testifies about the grace associated with a commission to be an apostle. When reflecting on his role in the church, he affirms that by God’s grace he has been able to lay a foundation (1 Cor. 3:10). Paul’s testimony in 1 Cor. 15:10 demonstrates the essential role of grace in making him who he is and effectively enabling what he does. Giving is also viewed as an exercise of grace (2 Cor. 8:7) reflecting the grace received by individual believers. This gift of grace for life and ministry is somehow recognizable. Peter, James, and John recognized it in Paul (Gal. 2:9). It was upon the apostles (Acts 4:33), and it was seen in the church of Antioch (11:23).

Given the source and the effective nature of grace, one can understand the appropriateness of appealing to grace in greetings and salutations (Rom. 1:7; 16:20; Gal. 1:3; 6:18).

Common grace. Finally, grace does operate beyond the context of the elect and the work of salvation and sanctification. Theologians define this as “common grace.” God’s sending rain and giving creatures intellectual and artistic abilities are expressions of common grace.

Human Will

“Will” refers to a person’s wishes or desires and the power to act on those desires. In the Bible, human will is at times contrasted with God’s will or mercy (Rom. 9:16 ESV, NRSV; cf. John 1:13) or the power of the Holy Spirit (2 Pet. 1:21 NASB, NRSV). In his humanity, Jesus had his own will, but he chose to submit it to the Father’s will (Luke 22:42; John 6:38). See also Free Will; Will of God.

Husband

Patriarchal Structures

Aristotelian Household Codes

Marriage and Divorce

Children, Parenting, and Education

Abortion commonly took place in the Greco-Roman world. Women therefore had to be encouraged to continue in their pregnancies (1 Tim. 2:15).

Children were of low social status in society. Infant mortality was high. An estimated 60 percent of the children in the first-century Mediterranean society were dead by the age of sixteen.

Family as an Analogy

Incarnation

The term “incarnation” refers to something being “enfleshed” (Lat., in carne). It should not be confused with, or even related to, the similar term “reincarnation,” nor does it parallel polytheistic myths about redeemer gods created by Hellenistic and gnostic cults. Rather, in the context of Christian teaching, “incarnation” expresses what happened when Jesus, who had been with God for all eternity, stepped onto the historical scene as a human being (John 1:14; Col. 1:19; Heb. 2:14; 1 John 1:1–2). The Greek NT uses en sarki (“in flesh”) repeatedly as a reference to Jesus’ human nature. Hymns such as 1 Tim. 3:16 show the confessional character of Christ’s incarnation, giving it strong theological significance (cf. the similar confessional emphasis of Phil. 2:5–11). The defining power of such confessions comes to the fore strongly in 1 John 4:3 (cf. 2 John 7), where John deems those who reject genuine incarnation to be filled with the spirit of the antichrist. Paul understands Jesus’ work on the cross in light of the incarnation (Col. 1:22; cf. 1 Pet. 4:1) and considers incarnation the reason Christ could accomplish what the law of Moses could not (Rom. 8:3; Eph. 2:15).

It follows that incarnation is central to Christian theology, an indispensable tenet that cannot be reduced to a parenthetical aside to the doctrine of the virgin birth. If anything, it is the other way around. More significant than the timing and specific circumstances surrounding Jesus’ birth, which are detailed only as introductions to Matthew’s and Luke’s Gospels, the incarnation speaks to the theological importance of what God did by sending his Son. Put differently, the significance of the incarnation cannot be overstated; not only is Jesus God’s perfect revelation of himself, but also the fact that he stepped into the field of matter, participating directly in the history of his own creation, has forever changed human thinking and the pursuit of knowledge.

Incarnation and Science

Athanasius, who safeguarded the incarnation of Christ by his claim that Jesus was not just born in the likeness of God but was also himself the very nature of God, saw that Christianity provided a new starting point for all human understanding of the world. This new starting point made the foundational dualism of classical rationalism impossible (sensible versus intelligible, material versus spiritual). The Christian claim of God’s actual incarnation in Christ required a complete reconsideration of the relationship between God and the world. Ultimate reality was no longer unknowable; God had expressed himself fully in the person of Jesus Christ.

From this, the fourth-century Cappadocian fathers developed four foundational principles that enabled new approaches to scientific pursuits. (1) Since the cosmos is the creation of a rational God who has also made humans in his image, it follows that the cosmos in principle is comprehensible by the human mind. (2) Since God created the cosmos as a free act of his will, and it is not simply an emanation of God, the cosmos has relative autonomy. That is, not everything that happens is the direct will of God. (3) Since God created the heavens and the earth, it follows that the “heavenly bodies” are not (as Aristotle claimed) made of a substance different from the elements that comprise the earth (interestingly, Galileo was condemned by an Aristotelian church for claiming that the moon is made of the same substance as the earth). (4) Because of the incarnation, humans may use material means for the advancement of human salvation. This allowed the church not to follow the Hebrew tradition of rejecting Greek medicine.

Incarnation and Christian Faith

The biblical emphasis on incarnation moves faith from the realm of mythology to the realm of history. In contrast to mythological affirmations, where gods play out scenarios in “the heavenlies” that have fatalistic consequences for life on earth, incarnation grounds the Christian faith in factual, historical events. God is not “out there in the unknown,” but rather chose to step into history and reveal himself in a personal manner. In mythology, talk about god turns into fatalistic assertions; in biblical faith, talk about God turns into expressions of relationship. The fullness of Christ’s incarnation protects Christian faith from turning into aloof speculations on the eternal; rather, incarnation secures the connection to the real-life issues of the human situation. More than merely sending a vision to a “prophet,” God came to show humans how to live, prioritize, act, react, and so on.

Incarnation and History

Since the incarnation anchors the Christian faith in historical reality, history itself becomes revelatory and significant for a full understanding of God. Christ came and walked among people “in time,” and Christian believers want to know what that meant and means. Different from gnostic writings, for example, where God merely sends lofty, indefinite, timeless propositions for inner meditation (cf. Gospel of Thomas), biblical faith recognizes God’s actions on the turf of human life and acts in response to these. Because God revealed himself on the field of human history, his actions can be tested and investigated. Because he chose to come at a certain time, in a certain place, Christians are interested in that time and place. God does not hide; he wills to reveal. Incarnation shields Christianity against gradually disappearing into the mix of pagan religions, where everyone can construct a god in his or her own image.

Furthermore, a proper emphasis on incarnation prevents the Christian faith from becoming indifferent to the present world. Incarnation teaches that God desires to engage his creation. He sent his Son into the world to reveal to all humans what life in God’s kingdom looks like. God’s eager participation in human life through the birth of Jesus, as announced to a group of humble shepherds near the town of Bethlehem, generates a charge for the faithful to be involved in the transformation of this world. The incarnation calls followers of Jesus to live lives that actively proclaim that God’s love is participatory love (Heb. 2:18; 4:15).

Incarnation and God’s Being

At the heart of the biblical teaching about incarnation stands a statement about the very being of Christ. The story of the overshadowing of Mary by the Holy Spirit, causing her to give birth to “the Son of the Most High,” negates any notion that Jesus was merely an extraordinarily godly person, or prophet, whom God adopted. Rather, he was concurrently 100 percent God and 100 percent human—not “just” human, not “just” God, nor 50 percent of each.

The two natures of Christ present a rational difficulty for finite minds. In terms of function, one way to think about this may be to consider everything that Jesus said, did, and thought as an expression of who God is. Or one may assert that everything Jesus said, did, and thought was exactly what God would have said, done, and thought. The struggle of both language and comprehension at this point is to find ways of expressing how duality of form and function can concur with equality of being. Everything about Jesus is an exact expression of God, yet Jesus is not the Father.

The struggle to understand the meaning and significance of the incarnation has changed over time. Opposite the early Christians, who knew Jesus as a human being and therefore struggled to comprehend his divinity, modern Christians struggle with the significance of Jesus’ humanity. Since Jesus is the object of Christian worship and the content of hymns and praise choruses, his divinity receives most of the focus. This endangers the delicate balance, or tension, revealed in the biblical teaching on incarnation. Jesus must be 100 percent God to be the true Savior, not just someone who can point to a saving God. Concurrently he must be 100 percent human to be fully acquainted with human experience and misery.

Incarnation and the Birth of Jesus: Preexistence and Historical Existence

The NT describes the process, or method, of the incarnation as virginal conception. God’s Spirit overshadowed a young Jewish virgin, Mary, who then gave birth to Jesus. Although incarnation itself does not require such a method (God could have chosen a different method to bring Jesus to earth, as with the first Adam), Matthew’s and Luke’s accounts powerfully portray how God connected eternity to history.

Christ’s eternal nature is attested throughout the NT and belongs indisputably to the very core of Christian theology and understanding. John’s Gospel portrays this robustly through his delineation of Jesus’ existence before his historical birth in Bethlehem (John 1:1–14). Given this, it proves difficult to imagine a more “natural” link between Christ’s preexistence and his historical existence than we find in Matthew’s and Luke’s accounts. The virginal conception joins the preexistent (eternal) nature of Christ to his historical (temporal) existence in a way that preserves both natures as coexistent. Without the virginal conception, there must have been a point of adoption, a specific historical time, or situation, where Jesus became “Son of God.” The problem with any adoption theory is that it ultimately makes Jesus 100 percent human and 0 percent God. Adoption does not change being. The Gospel accounts of incarnation elucidate Jesus’ being. He is not just like God in what he does; he is 100 percent like God in who he is.

Jesus Christ

The founder of what became known as the movement of Jesus followers or Christianity. For Christian believers, Jesus Christ embodies the personal and supernatural intervention of God in human history.

Introduction

Name. Early Christians combined the name “Jesus” with the title “Christ” (Acts 5:42; NIV: “Messiah”). The name “Jesus,” from the Hebrew Yehoshua or Yeshua, was a common male name in first-century Judaism. The title “Christ” is from the Greek christos, a translation of the Hebrew mashiakh (“anointed one, messiah”). Christians eventually were named after Jesus’ title (Acts 11:26). During the ministry of Jesus, Peter was the first disciple to recognize Jesus as the Messiah (Matt. 16:16; Mark 9:29; Luke 9:20).

Sources. From the viewpoint of Christianity, the life and ministry of Jesus constitute the turning point in human history. From a historical perspective, ample early source materials would be expected. Indeed, both Christian and non-Christian first-century and early second-century literary sources are extant, but they are few in number. In part, this low incidence is due to society’s initial resistance to the Jesus followers’ movement. The ancient Roman historian Tacitus called Christianity “a superstition,” since its beliefs did not fit with the culture’s prevailing worldview and thus were considered antisocial. Early literary sources therefore are either in-group documents or allusions in non-Christian sources.

The NT Gospels are the principal sources for the life and ministry of Jesus. They consist of Matthew, Mark, Luke (the Synoptic Gospels), and John. Most scholars adhere to the so-called Four Source Hypothesis. In this theory, Mark was written first and was used as a source by Matthew and Luke, who also used the sayings source Q (from German Quelle, meaning “source”) as well as their own individual sources M (Matthew) and L (Luke). John used additional sources.

The early church tried to put together singular accounts, so-called Gospel harmonies, of the life of Jesus. The Gospel of the Ebionites represents one such attempt based on the Synoptic Gospels. Another harmony, the Diatessaron, based on all four Gospels, was produced around AD 170 by Tatian. Additional source materials concerning the life of Christ are provided in the NT in texts such as Acts, the Pauline Epistles, the General Epistles, and the Revelation of John. Paul wrote to the Galatians, “But when the time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under law” (Gal. 4:4). The first narrative about Jesus by the Christian community was a passion narrative, the account of his death and resurrection. The first extant references to this tradition are found in Paul’s letters (1 Cor. 2:2; Gal. 3:1). The resurrection was recognized from the beginning as the cornerstone of the Christian faith (1 Cor. 15:13–14).

Among non-Christian sources, the earliest reference to Jesus is found in a letter written circa AD 112 by Pliny the Younger, the Roman governor of Bithynia-Pontus (Ep. 10.96). The Roman historian Tacitus mentions Christians and Jesus around AD 115 in his famous work about the history of Rome (Ann. 15.44). Another Roman historian, Suetonius, wrote around the same time concerning unrest among the Jews in Rome because of a certain “Chrestos” (Claud. 25.4). Some scholars conclude that “Chrestos” is a misspelling of “Christos,” a reference to Jesus.

The Jewish author Josephus (first century AD) mentions Jesus in a story about the Jewish high priest Ananus and James the brother of Jesus (Ant. 20.200). A controversial reference to Jesus appears in a different part of the same work, where Josephus affirms that Jesus is the Messiah and that he rose from the dead (Ant. 18.63–64). The majority of scholars consider this passage to be authentic but heavily edited by later Christian copyists. Another Jewish source, the Talmud, also mentions Jesus in several places, but these references are very late and of little historical value.

Noncanonical Gospels that mention Jesus include, for example, the Infancy Gospel of Thomas, the Gospel of Thomas, the Gospel of Peter, the Gospel of James, the Gospel of Judas Iscariot, the Gospel of the Hebrews, the Egerton Gospel, and the Gospel of Judas. Although some of these may contain an occasional authentic saying or event, for the most part they are late and unreliable.

Jesus’ Life

Birth and childhood. The Gospels of Matthew and Luke record Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem during the reign of Herod the Great (Matt. 2:1; Luke 2:4, 11). Jesus was probably born between 6 and 4 BC, shortly before Herod’s death (Matt. 2:19). Both Matthew and Luke record the miracle of a virginal conception made possible by the Holy Spirit (Matt. 1:18; Luke 1:35). Luke mentions a census under the Syrian governor Quirinius that was responsible for Jesus’ birth taking place in Bethlehem (2:1–5). Both the census and the governorship at the time of the birth of Jesus have been questioned by scholars. Unfortunately, there is not enough extrabiblical evidence to either confirm or disprove these events, so their veracity must be determined on the basis of one’s view regarding the general reliability of the Gospel tradition.

Jesus was born in a lower socioeconomic setting. His parents offered a temple sacrifice appropriate for those who could not afford to sacrifice a sheep (Luke 2:22–24; cf. Lev. 12:8). Joseph, Jesus’ earthly father, was a carpenter or an artisan in wood, stone, or metal (Matt. 13:55). From a geographical perspective, Nazareth was not a prominent place for settling, since it lacked fertile ground. Jesus’ disciple Nathanael expressed an apparently common first-century sentiment concerning Nazareth: “Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?” (John 1:46).

Jesus was also born in a context of scandal. Questions of illegitimacy were surely raised, since his mother Mary was discovered to be pregnant before her marriage to Joseph. According to Matthew, only the intervention of an angel convinced Joseph not to break his betrothal (Matt. 1:18–24). Jesus’ birth took place in Bethlehem, far from his parents’ home in Nazareth. According to kinship hospitality customs, Joseph and Mary would have expected to stay with distant relatives in Bethlehem. It is likely that they were unwelcome because of Jesus’ status as an illegitimate child; thus Mary had to give birth elsewhere and place the infant Jesus in a feeding trough (Luke 2:7). A similar response was seen years later in Nazareth when Jesus was identified as “Mary’s son” (Mark 6:3) rather than through his paternal line, thereby shaming him as one who was born an illegitimate child. Jesus was likewise rejected at the end of his life as the crowds cried, “Crucify him!” (Matt. 27:22–23; Mark 15:13–14; Luke 23:21; John 19:6, 15). When Jesus was arrested, most of his followers fled (Matt. 26:56; Mark 14:50–52), and a core disciple, Peter, vehemently denied knowing him (Matt. 26:69–74; Mark 14:66–71; Luke 22:55–60; John 18:15–17, 25–27). His own siblings did not believe in him (John 7:5) and were evidently ashamed of his fate, since from the cross Jesus placed the care of his mother into the hands of “the disciple whom he loved” (19:26–27) rather than the next brother in line, as was customary.

Baptism, temptation, and start of ministry. After Jesus was baptized by the prophet John the Baptist (Luke 3:21–22), God affirmed his pleasure with him by referring to him as his Son, whom he loved (Matt. 3:17; Mark 1:11; Luke 3:22). Jesus’ baptism did not launch him into fame and instant ministry success; instead, Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where he was tempted for forty days (Matt. 4:1–11; Mark 1:12–13; Luke 4:1–13). Mark stresses that the temptations immediately followed the baptism. Matthew and Luke identify three specific temptations by the devil, though their order for the last two is reversed. Both Matthew and Luke agree that Jesus was tempted to turn stones into bread, expect divine intervention after jumping off the temple portico, and receive all the world’s kingdoms for worshiping the devil. Jesus resisted all temptation, quoting Scripture in response.

Jesus’ public ministry: chronology. Jesus’ ministry started in Galilee, probably around AD 27/28, and ended with his death around AD 30 in Jerusalem. The temple had been forty-six years in construction (generally interpreted as the temple itself and the wider temple complex) when Jesus drove out the money changers (John 2:20). According to Josephus, the rebuilding and expansion of the second temple had started in 20/19 BC, during the eighteenth year of Herod’s reign (Ant. 15.380). The ministry of John the Baptist had commenced in the fifteenth year of Tiberius (Luke 3:1–2), who had become a coregent in AD 11/12. From these dates of the start of the temple building and the correlation of the reign of Tiberius to John the Baptist’s ministry, the onset of Jesus’ ministry can probably be dated to AD 27/28.

The Gospel of John mentions three Passovers and another unnamed feast in John 5:1. The length of Jesus’ ministry thus extended over three or four Passovers, equaling about three or three and a half years. Passover, which took place on the fifteenth of Nisan, came on a Friday in AD 30 and 33. The year of Jesus’ death was therefore probably AD 30.

Jesus’ ministry years may be divided broadly into his Galilean and his Judean ministries. The Synoptic Gospels describe the ministry in Galilee from various angles but converge again as Jesus enters Judea.

Galilean ministry. The early stages of Jesus’ ministry centered in and around Galilee. Jesus presented the good news and proclaimed that the kingdom of God was near. Matthew focuses on the fulfillment of prophecy (Matt. 4:13–17). Luke records Jesus’ first teaching in his hometown, Nazareth, as paradigmatic (Luke 4:16–30); the text that Jesus quoted, Isa. 61:1–2, set the stage for his calling to serve and revealed a trajectory of rejection and suffering.

All Gospels record Jesus’ gathering of disciples early in his Galilean ministry (Matt. 4:18–22; Mark 1:16–20; Luke 5:1–11; John 1:35–51). The formal call and commissioning of the Twelve who would become Jesus’ closest followers is recorded in different parts of the Gospels (Matt. 10:1–4; Mark 3:13–19; Luke 6:12–16). A key event in the early ministry is the Sermon on the Mount/Plain (Matt. 5:1–7:29; Luke 6:20–49). John focuses on Jesus’ signs and miracles, in particular in the early parts of his ministry, whereas the Synoptics focus on healings and exorcisms.

The Synoptics present Jesus’ early Galilean ministry as successful. No challenge or ministry need superseded Jesus’ authority or ability: he calmed a storm (Mark 4:35–39), exorcized many demons (Mark 5:1–13), raised the dead (Mark 5:35–42), fed five thousand (Mark 6:30–44), and walked on water (Mark 6:48–49).

Judean ministry. Luke records a geographic turning point in Jesus’ ministry as he resolutely set out for Jerusalem, a direction that eventually led to his death (Luke 9:51). Luke divides the journey to Jerusalem into three phases (9:51–13:21; 13:22–17:10; 17:11–19:27). The opening verses of phase one emphasize a prophetic element of the journey. Jesus viewed his ministry in Jerusalem as his mission, and the demands on discipleship intensified as Jesus approached Jerusalem (Matt. 20:17–19, 26–28; Mark 10:38–39, 43–45; Luke 14:25–35). Luke presents the second phase of the journey toward Jerusalem with a focus on conversations regarding salvation and judgment (Luke 13:22–30). In the third and final phase of the journey, the advent of the kingdom and the final judgment are the main themes (17:20–37; 19:11–27).

Passion Week, death, and resurrection. Each of the Gospels records Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem with the crowds extending him a royal welcome (Matt. 21:4–9; Mark 11:7–10; Luke 19:35–38; John 12:12–15). Luke describes Jesus’ ministry in Jerusalem as a time during which Jesus taught in the temple as Israel’s Messiah (19:45–21:38).

The Identity of Jesus Christ

Various aspects of Jesus’ identity are stressed in the four NT Gospels, depending on their target audiences. In the Gospels the witnesses to Jesus’ ministry are portrayed as constantly questioning and examining his identity (Matt. 11:2–5; 12:24; 26:63; 27:11; Mark 3:22; 8:11; 11:28; 14:61; Luke 7:18–20; 11:15; 22:67, 70; 23:39; John 7:20, 25–27; 18:37). Only beings of the spiritual realm are certain of his divinity (Mark 1:34; 3:11; Luke 4:41). At Jesus’ baptism, God referred to him as his Son, whom he loved (Matt. 3:17; Mark 1:11; Luke 3:22). Likewise, when Jesus was transfigured in the presence of Peter, James, and John, a voice affirmed, “This is my Son, whom I love” (Matt. 17:5; Mark 9:7). At the moment of his death, the questioning of Jesus’ identity culminated in a confession by a Roman centurion and other guards: “Surely he was the Son of God!” (Matt. 27:54; cf. Mark 15:39).

Miracle worker. In the first-century setting, folk healers and miracle workers were part of the fabric of society. Jesus, however, performed signs and miracles in order to demonstrate the authority of the kingdom of God over various realms: disease, illness, the spiritual world, nature, and even future events. Especially in the Gospel of John, Jesus’ signs and miracles are used to show his authority and thus his identity.

No challenge superseded Jesus’ authority. Among his ample miracles and signs, he changed water into wine (John 2:7–9), calmed a storm in the sea (Matt. 8:23–27; Mark 4:35–39; Luke 8:22–25), exorcized demons (Matt. 9:32–34; Mark 5:1–13; Luke 9:42–43), healed the sick (Mark 1:40–44), raised the dead (Matt. 9:23–25; Mark 5:35–42; Luke 7:1–16; 8:49–54; John 11:17, 38–44), performed miraculous feedings (Matt. 14:17–21; 15:34–38; Mark 6:30–44; 8:5–9; Luke 9:10–17; John 6:8–13), and walked on water (Matt. 14:25–26; Mark 6:48–49; John 6:19).

The Pharisees requested miracles as evidence of his authority (Mark 8:11–12). Jesus refused, claiming that a wicked and adulterous generation asks for a miraculous sign (Matt. 12:38–39; 16:1–4). The only sign that he would give was the sign of Jonah—his death and resurrection three days later—a personal sacrifice, taking upon himself the judgment of the world (Matt. 12:39–41).

Rabbi/teacher. Jesus’ teaching style was similar to other first-century rabbis or Pharisees (Mark 9:5; 10:51; John 1:38; 3:2). What distinguished him was that he spoke with great personal authority (Matt. 5:22, 28, 32, 39, 44; Mark 1:22). Like other rabbis of his day, Jesus gathered disciples. He called these men to observe his lifestyle and to join him in his ministry of teaching, healing, and exorcism (Matt. 10:1–4; Mark 3:13–19; Luke 6:12–16).

Jesus used a variety of teaching methods. He frequently spoke in parables (Matt. 6:24; 13:24–52; 18:10–14, 23–35; 21:28–22:14; 24:32–36, 45–51; 25:14–30; Mark 4:1–34; 12:1–12; 13:28–34; Luke 8:4–18; 12:41–46; 13:18–21; 14:15–24; 15:1–16:15, 19–31; 18:1–14; 19:11–27; 20:9–19; 21:29–33), used figures of speech (John 10:9), hyperbole (Matt. 19:24; Mark 10:25; Luke 18:25), argumentation (Matt. 26:11), object lessons (Matt. 24:32), frequent repetition (Matt. 13:44–47; Luke 13:18–21), practical examples, and personal guidance.

Major themes in Jesus’ teaching include the kingdom of God, the cost of discipleship, internal righteousness, the end of the age, his identity, his mission, and his approaching death. In his teachings, observance of Torah was given new context and meaning because God’s kingdom had “come near” (Matt. 3:2). Jesus had come to fulfill the law (Matt. 5:17).

Jesus’ teaching ministry often took place amid social conflict. These conflicts were couched in so-called challenge-riposte interactions in which the honor status of those involved was at stake. Jesus used these interactions as teachable moments. When questioned, Jesus gave replies that reveal omniscience or intimate knowledge of God’s will, especially in the Gospel of John. In the Synoptic Gospels, Jesus’ answers are both ethical and practical in nature. The Synoptics portray Jesus as challenged repeatedly with accusations of violating customs specified in the Jewish law. Jesus’ answers to such accusations often echoed the essence of 1 Sam. 15:22, “To obey is better than sacrifice,” phrased by Jesus as “I desire mercy, not sacrifice” (Matt. 9:13; 12:7). An overall “better than” ethic was common in Jesus’ public teaching.

The Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5–7) contains a “better than” ethic in which internal obedience is better than mere outward obedience. For example, Jesus said that anger without cause is equal to murder (Matt. 5:21–22), that looking at a woman lustfully amounts to adultery (Matt. 5:28), and that instead of revenging wrongs one must reciprocate with love (Matt. 5:38–48). Jesus valued compassion above traditions and customs, even those contained within the OT law. He desired internal obedience above the letter of the law.

Jesus’ teachings found their authority in the reality of God’s imminent kingdom (Matt. 3:2; 10:7; Mark 1:15; Luke 10:9), necessitating repentance (Matt. 3:2), belief (Mark 1:15), dependence (Matt. 18:3–5; Mark 10:15), and loyalty to a new community—the family of Jesus followers (Mark 3:34; 10:29–30). Jesus urged, “Seek first [God’s] kingdom and his righteousness” (Matt. 6:33). Preaching with such urgency was common among prophetic teachers of the intertestamental period. Jesus, however, had his own grounds for urgency. He held that God deeply valued all humans (Matt. 10:31) and would bring judgment swiftly (Matt. 25:31–46).

Examples of a “greater good” ethic in the Synoptics include the occasions when Jesus ate with sinners (Mark 2:16–17). Jesus used an aphorism in response to accusations about his associations with sinners, saying, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners” (Mark 2:17). He advocated harvesting and healing on the Sabbath (Mark 2:23–28; 3:1–6), and when he was accused of breaking the law, he pointed to an OT exception (1 Sam. 21:1–6) to declare compassion appropriate for the Sabbath. Jesus also applied the “greater good” ethic in the case of divorce, since women suffered the societal stigma of adultery and commonly became outcasts following divorce (Matt. 19:8–9; Mark 10:5–9).

Jesus’ kingdom teachings were simultaneously spiritual, ethical, and eschatological in application. The teachings were aimed at internal transformation (Matt. 5:3–9; 18:3; Mark 10:15) and spurring on love (Matt. 5:44; 7:21). The Spirit of the Lord had called Jesus to bless the hurting ones as they aspired to a godly character. Jesus taught, “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matt. 5:48), and “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful” (Luke 6:36). The “blessed” ones in Jesus’ teachings are poor of spirit, peace driven, mournful, and hungry for righteousness, consumed with emulating godly character.

Some scholars believe that Jesus promoted an “interim ethic” for the kingdom, intended only for a short period prior to the end of time. However, he was explicit regarding the longevity of his teachings: “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away” (Matt. 24:35; Luke 16:17).

Messiah. The concept of an anointed one, a messiah, who would restore the glories of David’s kingdom and bring political stability was common in Jewish expectation. Both before and after the Babylonian captivity, many Jews longed for one who would bring peace and protection. Israel’s prophets had spoken of a coming deliverer, one who would restore David’s kingdom and reign in justice and righteousness (2 Sam. 7:11–16; Isa. 9:1–7; 11:1–16; Jer. 23:5–6; 33:15–16; Ezek. 37:25; Dan. 2:44; Mic. 5:2; Zech. 9:9). Isaiah’s description of the servant (Isa. 53) whose suffering healed the nation provided a slightly different angle of expectation in terms of a deliverer.

Jesus’ authority and popularity as a miracle worker called up messianic images in first-century Jewish minds. On several occasions hearers called him “Son of David,” hoping for the Messiah (Matt. 12:23; 21:9). Simon Peter was the first follower who confessed Jesus as the Christ, the “Messiah” (Matt. 16:16; Mark 8:29). In line with Isaiah’s model of the Suffering Servant, Jesus focused not on political ends but rather on spiritual regeneration through his own sacrificial death (Mark 10:45).

Eschatological prophet. Many scholars claim that Jesus is best understood as a Jewish apocalypticist, an eschatological prophet who expected God to intervene in history, destroy the wicked, and bring in the kingdom of God. Central in this understanding are Jesus’ prophecies concerning the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem (Matt. 24:1–2, 15–22; Mark 13:1; Luke 21:5–24; John 2:19; Acts 6:14). In addition, it is noted that Jesus had twelve disciples, representative of the twelve tribes of Israel (Matt. 19:2–28; Luke 22:23–30). Certain of Jesus’ parables, those with apocalyptic images of coming judgment, present Jesus as an eschatological prophet (Matt. 24:45–25:30; Luke 12:41–46; 19:11–27).

Suffering Son of God. Jesus’ first recorded teaching in a synagogue in Nazareth was paradigmatic (Luke 4:16–21). He attributed the reading, Isa. 61:1–2, to his personal calling to serve, and in doing so he revealed a trajectory of suffering. The Gospel of Mark likewise aptly portrays Jesus as the suffering Son of God. Jesus’ own teachings incorporated his upcoming suffering (Mark 8:31; 9:12–13, 31; 10:33–34). He summarized his mission by declaring, “The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). His earthly career ended with a trial in Jerusalem consisting of both Roman and Jewish components (Matt. 26:57–68; 27:1–31; Mark 14:53–65; 15:1–20; Luke 22:54–23:25; John 18:19–24; 18:28–19:16). He was insulted, scourged, mocked, and crucified.

Jesus’ suffering culminated in his humiliating death by crucifixion (Matt. 27:33–50; Mark 15:22–37; Luke 23:33–46; John 19:16–30). Crucifixion was a death of unimaginable horror, bringing shame and humiliation to the victim and his family. Anyone hanging on a tree was considered cursed (Deut. 21:23; Gal. 3:13). Thus, especially in a Jewish society, anyone associated with a crucified person bore the shame of following one who was executed as a lowly slave and left as a cursed corpse. The apostle Paul referred to this shame of the cross when he stated, “I am not ashamed of the gospel” (Rom. 1:16).

Exalted Lord. Jesus had prophesied that he would rise again (Matt. 16:21; 17:9, 23; 20:19; 27:63; Mark 8:31; 9:9, 31; 10:34; Luke 9:22; 18:33; 24:7, 46). The testimony of the Synoptics is that the resurrection of Jesus Christ indeed occurred on the third day, Christ having died on Friday (Mark 15:42–45; Luke 23:52–54; John 19:30–33) and risen again on Sunday (Matt. 28:1–7; Mark 16:2–7; Luke 24:1–7; John 20:1–16). The resurrected Jesus was witnessed by the women (Matt. 28:8–9), the eleven disciples (Matt. 28:16–17; Luke 24:36–43), and travelers on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:31–32). According to Paul, he appeared to as many as five hundred others (1 Cor. 15:6). He appeared in bodily form, spoke, showed his scars, and ate (Luke 24:39–43; John 20:27; Acts 1:4). After forty postresurrection days, Jesus ascended into the heavenly realm (Acts 1:9).

As much as Jesus’ death was the epitome of shame, his victory over death was his ultimate exaltation (Phil. 2:5–11). At Pentecost, Peter proclaimed that in the resurrection God fulfilled OT promises (Ps. 16:10) by raising his Son from the grave (Acts 2:30–31). Furthermore, Christ provided freedom from the law through his resurrection (Rom. 5:13–14), God’s approval of his life and work (Phil. 2:8–9), and God’s designation of him as Lord over all the earth, the living and the dead (Acts 17:30–31; Phil. 2:10; Heb. 1:3), and over all his enemies (Eph. 1:20–23).

Jesus’ exaltation commenced the beginning of forgiveness and justification (Luke 24:46–47; Acts 13:30–39; Rom. 4:25) and his intercession for the people of God (Rom. 8:34). His ascension signaled the coming of the Holy Spirit as comforter and teacher (John 14:26; Acts 2:33) and was accompanied by the promise of his return in glory (Luke 24:51), at which time he will render judgment (Matt. 19:28; 24:31; Rev. 20:11–15) and establish his eternal kingdom (1 Cor. 15:24; 2 Tim. 4:1; Rev. 11:15; 22:5).

Jesus’ Purpose and Community

In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus is the long-awaited Messiah, who preaches the good news of the kingdom, urging people to repent (4:17–23). Repentance and belief allow one to enter the kingdom. The call into the kingdom is a call into a new covenant, one made in Jesus’ blood (26:28).

In the prologue to the Gospel of Mark, the narrator reveals the identity of Jesus (1:1). Jesus is presented as the one who brings good tidings of salvation (cf. Isa. 40:9; 52:7; 61:1). The centrality of the gospel, the good news (Mark 1:14–15), is evident.

Luke likewise presents the preaching of the good news as a main purpose of Jesus’ ministry (4:43). The content of this good news is the kingdom of God (4:43; 8:1; 16:16). When the disciples of John the Baptist asked Jesus if he was the one who was to come (7:20), Jesus answered, “Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor” (7:22). The kingdom of God, as presented in Luke, brings freedom for the prisoners, recovery of sight for the blind, and release for the oppressed (4:18). Jesus’ healings and exorcisms announce the coming kingdom of God already present in the ministry of Jesus (4:40–44; 6:18–20; 8:1–2; 9:2; 10:8–9).

In the Gospel of John, Jesus testifies to the good news by way of signs throughout his ministry. These signs point to Jesus’ glory, his identity, and the significance of his ministry. Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, who offers eternal and abundant life. This abundant life is lived out in community.

In the Gospel of John, the disciples of Jesus represent the community of God (17:21). The disciples did not belong to the world, but they continued to live in the world (17:14–16). Throughout his ministry, Jesus called his disciples to follow him. This was a call to loyalty (Matt. 10:32–40; 16:24–26; Mark 8:34–38; Luke 9:23–26), a call to the family of God (Matt. 12:48–50; Mark 3:33–35). Jesus’ declaration “On this rock I will build my church” (Matt. 16:18) was preceded by the call to community. Jesus’ presence as the head of the community was replaced by the promised Spirit (John 14:16–18).

Jesus’ ministry continued in the community of Jesus’ followers, God’s family—the church. Entrance into the community was obtained by adopting the values of the kingdom, belief, and through the initiation rite of baptism (Matt. 10:37–39; 16:24–26; Mark 8:34–38; Luke 9:23–26, 57–62; John 1:12; 3:16; 10:27–29; Acts 2:38; 16:31–33; 17:30; Rom. 10:9).

The Quests for the Historical Jesus

The quest for the historical Jesus, or seeking who Jesus was from a historical perspective, is a modern phenomenon deemed necessary by scholars who claim that the NT Gospels were written long after Jesus’ death and were heavily influenced by the post-Easter understanding of the church.

The beginning of this quest is often dated to 1770, when the lecture notes of Hermann Samuel Reimarus were published posthumously. Reimarus had launched an inquiry into the identity of Jesus that rejected as inauthentic all supernatural elements in the Gospels. He concluded that the disciples invented Jesus’ miracles, prophecies, ritualistic religion, and resurrection. Reimarus’s conclusions were not widely accepted, but they set off a flurry of rationalistic research into the historical Jesus that continued throughout the nineteenth century. This became known as the “first quest” for the historical Jesus.

In 1906 German theologian Albert Schweit-zer published The Quest of the Historical Jesus (German title: Von Reimarus zu Wrede: Eine Geschichte der Leben-Jesu-Forschung), a scathing indictment of the first quest. Schweitzer’s work showed that nineteenth-century researchers re-created Jesus in their own image, transforming the historical Jesus into a modern philanthropist preaching an inoffensive message of love and brotherhood. Schweitzer’s conclusions marked the beginning of the end for this first quest. Schweitzer himself concluded that the historical Jesus was an eschatological prophet whose purposes failed during his last days in Jerusalem.

With the demise of the first quest, some NT scholars, such as Rudolf Bultmann, rejected any claim to being able to discover the historical Jesus. This trend continued until 1953, when some of Bultmann’s former students launched what has come to be known as the “new quest” for the historical Jesus (1953–c. 1970). This quest created new interest in the historical Jesus but was still dominated by the view that the portrait of Jesus in the Gospels is largely a creation of the church in a post-Easter setting.

As the rebuilding years of the post–World War II era waned and scholars started to reap academic fruit from major archaeological finds such as the DSS, research on the historical Jesus moved on to what has been called the “third quest.” This quest seeks especially to research and understand Jesus in his social and cultural setting.

Light

Scientifically, light may be described as electromagnetic radiation, exhibiting qualities of both waves and particles, traveling 186,282 miles per second from a light source, such as the sun or a lightbulb. In contrast, ancient Mediterranean thought presupposes that light, a kind of fire and fundamental constituent of matter, emanates from the human eye like a beam; and for some, the intensity of its radiance and luminosity depends upon the morality and direction of the seer’s heart. Even today, many Europeans are fearful of the “evil eye,” when a person is able to curse other human beings by merely looking at them. Jesus refers to the evil eye as emanating from an evil heart (Mark 7:22 [NIV: “envy”]; see also Gal. 3:1). Contemporary experiences of this seemingly counterintuitive reversal of empirical reality are the common perception of being watched from behind (turning and seeing that, in fact, this was the case), the luminous screen of the imagination, dreams after closing one’s eyes, and expressions such as Shakespeare’s “death-darting eye.”

Jesus appropriates this popular assumption for the sake of his point: “The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are healthy, your whole body will be full of light” (Matt. 6:22). Another way of translating the verse is “If the eye is focused, your whole body will be enlightened.” In the larger context, Jesus is exhorting disciples to turn their eyes from Mammon (wealth as an idol) to God’s throne, where their real treasure is (Matt. 6:19–24). He claims that only those with pure hearts will see God (Matt. 5:8). Paul speaks of the “eyes of your heart” (Eph. 1:18), which are opened by the Holy Spirit—a phenomenon that he experienced on the way to Damascus, which, ironically, led to the temporary blindness of his eyes to see Christ, who was at the right hand of the Father in heaven (Acts 9:1–19; cf. 2 Cor. 3:7–18). The Bible does not require that light be limited to either the scientifically objective or the experientially subjective perspective; it appropriates the phenomenon to elucidate a deeper reality to creation and God, the possibility of seeing the light beyond light.

God begins his creation with light, which precedes the creation of sun, moon, and stars and throughout Scripture is an unqualified good (Gen. 1:3–5, 15–18; Exod. 10:23; 13:21). The comfort of light is more difficult to appreciate in a world that runs on electricity. In the ancient world, people rarely traveled at night and usually went to bed soon after sunset. The only light in the home was a small oil lamp set on a stand, which burned expensive olive oil. Light is a biblical synonym for life (Job 3:20; John 8:12). Seeing the light means living (Ps. 49:19; see also Job 33:30). Conversely, darkness is often a symbol of adversity, disaster, and death (Job 30:26; Isa. 8:22; Jer. 23:12; Lam. 3:2). Death is likened to the extinguishing of a flame (Prov. 13:9; Sir. 22:11). God initially overcame the chaotic darkness when he created light, and ultimately God’s own glory will replace light in the new heavens and earth (Rev. 21:23–25). It is therefore not surprising that God is often associated with light (James 1:13–18).

Lighting

Although the Bible never describes the lamps used by ancient Israel or the early church, archaeology informs us what they were like. Early lamps were small pottery bowls with a slight lip for a wick. Some had multiple wick holders to produce more light (Zech. 4:2). Over time, the lip became a spout to one side. By the Persian period, lamps with a covered oil reservoir were imported from Greece. Some lamps, like the seven-branched golden menorah of the tabernacle, were made of metal. During the Roman era, pottery and metal lanterns were developed for outside illumination, replacing torches, which had been used previously (Judg. 7:16). Those who sought Jesus in Gethsemane carried both torches and lanterns (John 18:3).

Lamps were commonly found in family dwellings (2 Kings 4:10; Matt. 5:15). They also played an important role in the tabernacle and temple (Exod. 25:31–39; 1 Kings 7:49), where they not only illuminated their interiors but also, having the shape of a tree, symbolically evoked memories of Eden. Lamps could be carried or placed on a shelf or stand. Since they could hold only enough olive oil to burn for several hours, a woman who ensured that “her lamp does not go out at night” would have been particularly diligent (Prov. 31:18).

The Bible frequently uses lamp or light metaphorically. It can symbolize life (Job 18:6; 21:17; Prov. 13:9; 20:20; 24:20) or the continuation of the Davidic line (2 Sam. 21:17; 1 Kings 11:36; 15:4; 2 Kings 8:19). Jesus is the light of the world, who gives spiritual life (John 8:12; 9:5; 12:46; cf. 1:9; 3:19). John the Baptist was a lamp illuminating the way to the Messiah (John 5:35). Jesus’ followers should shine as lights so that the world can see their good works and praise God (Matt. 5:14–16). God’s word is a lamp to guide one’s way (Ps. 119:105; Prov. 6:23). God himself is a light who enables people to live in difficult times (2 Sam. 22:29; Job 29:3). In one of Jesus’ parables, the foolish virgins who did not prepare enough oil to keep their lamps burning serve as a warning for people to be ready for Christ’s return (Matt. 25:1–13).

Only Begotten

John and the author of Hebrews call Jesus Christ the “only begotten,” as traditionally translated (John 1:14, 18; 3:16, 18; 1 John 4:9; Heb. 11:17 KJV). The epithet, which is a single word in Greek (monogenēs), signifies being the only one of its kind within a specific relationship, and therefore, as we find in more recent translations, it may also be translated “one and only Son” (NIV) or “only son” (NRSV). Although the Bible claims that God has many human sons and daughters, in various senses he has but one “only begotten” Son, who must also be distinguished from the angels, who are also identified as sons of God (Heb. 1:1–14; see also Gen. 6:2, 4).

The author of Hebrews and Josephus, a first-century Jewish historian, present Isaac as Abraham’s “only begotten son” (Heb. 11:17 KJV; Josephus, Ant. 1.222). But Abraham has two sons, the other one being Ishmael, as the biblical narrative and Paul make clear (Gen. 16:11–16; Gal. 4:22). The difference is that Isaac was the only begotten between Abraham and his wife, Sarah, and the one for whom God decided to perpetuate the covenant that he originally made with Abraham (Gen. 12:1–3; 15:1–6; 17:19). Isaac is presented by early Christians as a type of Christ, and for Paul, he is a type of all the children of the new covenant (Gal. 4:21–31). Nevertheless, through Jesus’ fulfillment of God’s covenant obligations, many, including the descendants of Ishmael, will be called “sons of God” (Gen. 17:20; Hos. 1:10, cited in Rom. 9:26; Matt. 5:9; Rom. 8:14, 19; Gal. 3:26; 4:6).

Without compromising the uniqueness of his position, the “one and only” Son is happy to share his status before God the Father through faith, by grace, which brings the believer into union with his body, the church (Gal. 2:19–20; Eph. 2:1–10; Heb. 2:10). The conviction that Christ cannot be compared to human children or angels, parts of God’s creation, contributed to the belief of comparing Christ only with God, the uncreated.

Presence of God

The presence of God is one of the most significant themes in the Bible. At the very heart of worshiping God and having a relationship with him is experiencing his presence. Related themes such as God’s power and glory are also inextricably interconnected to his presence.

Old Testament

The biblical story begins with humankind experiencing and enjoying God’s presence in a very personal way, as God walks with Adam and Eve in the garden. Adam and Eve, however, soon disobey God and are thus driven out of the garden and away from the close, intimate presence of God (Gen. 3:22–24). Throughout the rest of Scripture, God unfolds his plan to restore this lost relationship, a relationship that centers on his presence.

Although God makes his presence known to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in Genesis, it is in Exodus that the presence of God becomes even more central to the story. When God first calls Moses, he promises his powerful presence, declaring, “I will be with you” (Exod. 3:12). The power of God’s presence is revealed as God guides and protects the fleeing Israelites in the form of a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night (13:21–22). The presence of God also plays a critical role in the formal covenant relationship that God makes with Israel at Mount Sinai (Exod. 19). At the heart of the covenant is a threefold statement by God: “I will be your God”; “you will be my people”; “I will dwell in your midst” (cf. Exod. 6:7; Lev. 26:11–12). Following up on his promise to dwell in their midst, God next gives the people explicit instructions on how to build the tabernacle, the place where he will dwell (Exod. 25:8–9). Throughout the latter chapters of Exodus, God’s glory is clearly associated with his presence (33:12–23; 40:34–38); in fact, God’s presence and glory are nearly synonymous.

God’s presence resides in the tabernacle until Solomon builds the temple in Jerusalem (1 Kings 6–7). At that time, the presence and glory of God then fill the holy place of the temple and dwell there. Over the next four hundred years, however, Israel and Judah repeatedly abandon God and turn to worshiping idols. The people repeatedly refuse to repent and to listen to God’s prophets. Eventually, therefore, their idolatrous sin and terrible social injustices drive God out of their midst. Ezekiel 8–10 describes this somber, momentous event as the glory and presence of God depart from the temple. Before long, as the prophets warned, the Babylonians capture Jerusalem and destroy both the city and the empty temple. It is significant to remember that when the temple is later rebuilt during the time of Ezra and Nehemiah, the presence and glory of God do not come back to fill the new temple. Thus, from the departure of God in Ezek. 10 until the arrival of Jesus Christ, the Jews live without the powerful presence of God dwelling in their midst.

Although the prophets had warned Israel and Judah that they would lose the presence of God as part of the imminent judgment, they also promised a powerful and glorious restoration of God’s presence in the messianic future. Furthermore, both Ezekiel and Joel promise that God will actually put his Spirit directly within his people (Ezek. 36:26–28; Joel 2:28). No longer limited to the holy of holies in the temple, under the new covenant the presence of God will actually indwell each of his people.

New Testament

In the NT, the coming of Jesus is clearly identified as the new manifestation of God’s presence that was foretold in the prophets (Matt. 1:22–23; John 1:14). Jesus’ entry into the temple is highly significant, therefore, because it signals a return of the presence of God to the temple after an absence of over six hundred years (Matt. 21:12–17; John 2:12–24). Ironically, in the temple Jesus encounters only hostility and hypocritical worship; the presence of God is rejected once again.

After the death and resurrection of Jesus, the Holy Spirit falls on his followers, filling them with God’s powerful presence (Acts 2:1–13), thus fulfilling the prophecies of Ezekiel and Joel. This new presence of God does not come to dwell in the temple; rather, it comes upon believers to dwell within them in a much more personal and relational way.

As the biblical story reaches its culmination at the end of the book of Revelation, God declares, “God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God” (21:3). The story has gone full circle: God has returned his people to the garden and come to dwell in their midst so that they can enjoy his wonderful presence eternally.

Son of God

In the Synoptic Gospels, Jesus’ divine sonship is closely linked to his messiahship. The angel Gabriel connects Jesus’ status as “Son of the Most High” with his reception of the throne of David (Luke 1:32). At Jesus’ baptism (which Luke identifies as Jesus’ messianic anointing [Luke 3:21; 4:1, 14, 18]), the Father declares Jesus to be “my Son, whom I love” (3:22), an allusion to Ps. 2:7. Satan tempts Jesus as the Son of God to abandon obedience to the Father and claim independent authority (Matt. 4:1–11; Luke 4:1–13). Peter confesses that Jesus is “the Messiah, the Son of the living God” (Matt. 16:16), and the high priest questions whether Jesus is “the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed One” (Mark 14:61; Matt. 26:63). In these and other texts “Son of God” is almost synonymous with “Messiah” (cf. Mark 1:1; Luke 4:41; 22:70; John 11:27; 20:31; Acts 9:20, 22). In other contexts, Jesus’ divine sonship appears to exceed messianic categories. Jesus prays to God as his Father (“Abba” [Mark 14:36]) and refers to himself as the Son, who uniquely knows and reveals the Father. The Father has committed all things to him. No one knows the Father but the Son and those to whom the Son reveals him (Matt. 11:25–27; Luke 10:21–22). It is by virtue of Jesus’ unique sonship that he invites his disciples to pray to God as their Father (Matt. 6:9).

In the Fourth Gospel, the status of Jesus as the Son of God is especially important, indicating both Jesus’ unique relationship with the Father and his essential deity. John introduces the notion of preexistent sonship in which the “Word” from creation is the Son (John 1:1–18; 17:5, 24). God sends into the world his Son (3:16), who reflects the glory of the Father (1:14; 14:6–11) and who will soon return (14:28). Jesus affirms that “I and the Father are one” (10:30), that “the Father is in me, and I in the Father” (10:38). John’s purpose in writing is to provoke faith “that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God” (20:31).

Some scholars reject the royal Jewish background of “the Son of God” when investigating the phrase in the Gospels. Instead, they appeal to Hellenistic sources to argue that Jesus as the Son of God is a “divine man” (theios anēr), which accounts for his ability to work miracles. This line of thinking, however, is fraught with many difficulties, not least of which is that the epithet is never used to describe the “divine man” in Greek literature.

In Paul’s thinking, the corporate, Israelite background of “Son of God” is renewed with reference to the NT people of God. Paul states that “theirs [the people of Israel] is the adoption to sonship” (Rom. 9:4). Although ethnic Israelites are rightfully called “sons of God,” this status is contingent upon being people of faith: “So in Jesus Christ you are all children of God through faith” (Gal. 3:26); Jesus’ death as the Son effects salvation (Rom. 8:2, 32; Gal. 2:20). The Spirit also plays a role in testifying with the spirits of believers that they are indeed children of God (Rom. 8:15–16), by which they cry, “Abba, Father” (Gal. 4:3–6). The believers’ status as God’s children will be completely revealed when they share in Christ’s glory (Rom. 8:17).

Sons of God

The Hebrew expression “sons of God” (often translated as “children of God” in contemporary usage) is an important biblical concept and is used to describe a range of referents.

Tent

In the ancient Near East, tents were used as shelters, particularly for nomadic peoples (Gen. 13:5, 18), seminomadic herders (Song 1:8), wealthy travelers or caravans, and military encampments (2 Kings 7:5–8). Tent coverings could be made of fabric (often woven from goat hair [e.g., Exod. 26:7]) or animal skins. Poles, pegs, and ropes were used to raise the tent and hold it in place (Isa. 33:20; 54:2). Tents were used both as dwellings (Gen. 4:20) and as meeting or worship spaces (2 Sam. 6:17). The term “tabernacle” also refers to a tent structure (e.g., Job 18:6 KJV), especially to the tent God inhabited from the time of the exodus until Solomon built him a more permanent dwelling (see Tabernacle, Tent of Meeting). A tent is used as a metaphor for the sky or the heavens (Pss. 19:4; 104:2; Isa. 40:22) and often symbolizes protection or habitation (Job 18:14; 22:23; Ps. 61:4). In the NT, the image of a tent is used figuratively of human flesh and earthly existence (2 Cor. 5:1–4; 2 Pet. 1:13; cf. John 1:14; see also Shekinah). Paul was a tentmaker by trade, as were Priscilla and Aquila (Acts 18:2–3). See also Pavilion.

Truth

While a modern understanding of the word “truth” suggests a direct correspondence to fact or reality, Scripture presents truth in broader terms.

Old Testament. The OT not only portrays truth as an honest factual account but also places it within a relationship characterized by faithfulness and reliability. The Hebrew word translated as “truth,” ’emet, also is translated as “faithfulness,” “security,” “reliability.” The word often appears juxtaposed to words that involve a relationship, including “love” (Ps. 26:3), “kindness” (Gen. 24:27), “mercy” (Ps. 40:11), “justice” (Isa. 59:14–15), and “righteousness” (Isa. 48:1). Truth is attributed primarily not to external facts, but rather to a person or community in faithfulness.

Often described as something that belongs to God (Ps. 25:5), truth is associated with his love (26:3). Yahweh is the God of truth (31:5) and is near to all who call on him in truth (145:18). God’s truth protects (140:11) and guides (43:3). Following God means walking in his truth (26:3). God speaks the truth (Isa. 45:19) and values truth (Prov. 12:22), and he expects his people to do the same (Prov. 23:23).

Often involving speech, truth is a crucial element for justice in a community, especially in a court setting. A truthful witness gives an honest testimony and brings healing, but a false witness tells lies and brings destruction (Prov. 12:17–18). Yet only the truth will endure (12:19). Truth is needed to make sound judgments (Zech. 8:16). The absence of truth in Israel’s society is denounced by the prophets, who declare truth to have stumbled (Isa. 59:14) and even to have perished (Jer. 7:28). In Jer. 5:1 it is said that God will forgive the entire city of Jerusalem if one person is found who deals honestly and seeks the truth (cf. Gen. 18:26–32). No such person is found. Nevertheless, it is God’s vision for Jerusalem to be called the “City of Truth” (Zech. 8:3 NASB, NKJV).

Several OT narratives display how truth may not be evident in every relationship. In 1 Kings 22:16 (// 2 Chron. 18:15) King Ahab makes the prophet Micaiah repeatedly swear to be telling God’s truth because he (rightly) suspects the prophet of lying. As an Egyptian ruler, Joseph requires his brothers to prove the truth of their words (Gen. 42:16), perhaps keeping in mind the history of his ancestor Abraham’s dealings with the Egyptian king (12:10–20). Sometimes the truth of one relationship holds priority over duties involved in another relationship. For example, in Exod. 1:15–21 the Hebrew midwives have a truthful relationship with (Hebrew) babies and with God even as they lie to the king of Egypt.

New Testament. In the NT, truth signifies the gospel (Eph. 1:13) as well as Jesus himself (John 14:6). Whereas Pilate asks, “What is truth?” (John 18:38), the NT answers, “Jesus!” The topic of truth is predominant in the Gospel of John. Jesus is full of grace and truth (John 1:14), tells the truth he heard from God (8:44), and in fact is the truth (5:33). Truth involves action. Whoever lives by the truth comes out of darkness into the light (3:21). Worship of God must be done in spirit and in truth (4:23–24). It is the truth that will set people free (8:32). Jesus calls the Holy Spirit the “Spirit of truth” (15:26), whose role is to guide the followers of Jesus in all truth, speaking what he hears from the Father (John 15–16).

Although the topic of truth is seldom mentioned in the Synoptic Gospels, the phrase “I tell you the truth” is attributed to Jesus seventy-eight times (e.g., Matt. 5:18; 6:2; Mark 8:12; 9:41; Luke 9:27; 23:43; John 1:51; 13:21 NCV), showing it to be a major theme. The apostle Paul reminds the church at Corinth that love rejoices with the truth (1 Cor. 13:6). Truth describes not only knowledge of reality (Acts 24:8) but also the knowledge of Christ (2 Cor. 11:10) as well as the type of life that a follower of Christ should exhibit (Gal. 2:14; Titus 1:1). Truth can be distorted (Acts 20:30), suppressed (Rom. 1:18), and rejected (Rom. 2:8). While truth can involve speech (Eph. 4:15), those who belong to the truth show it by their love (1 John 1:6; 3:18–20).

Witness

The English term “witness” occurs in both Testaments numerous times, with a wide range of meanings. One common meaning relates to someone who gives legal testimony and to the legitimacy of that testimony (Num. 35:30; Deut. 17:6; 19:15–16, 18; Prov. 12:17; Isa. 8:16, 20). Throughout the NT the term occurs primarily in the context of someone bearing witness—especially God—or testifying to something (Rom. 1:9; 2 Cor. 1:23; Phil. 1:8; 1 Thess. 2:5, 10), though it also has a forensic dimension in regard to one who establishes legal testimony (e.g., Acts 6:13; 7:58; 2 Cor. 13:1; 1 Tim. 5:19; Heb. 10:28).

While linguistically the Greek word martys (“witness”) has given rise to the English term “martyr,” at the time of the NT martys did not connote physical martyrdom. Instead, it is likely that the use of this term in the book of Revelation and its association with the deaths of those who faithfully witnessed to Jesus Christ and the gospel in the face of persecution gave rise to its application in the technical sense of “martyr.”

It is this association of persecution and martyrdom that likely leads to the second-century employment of “martyr” as a designation for those who bear witness to Christ to the point of death. See also Martyr.

Word

“Word” is used in the Bible to refer to the speech of God in oral, written, or incarnate form. In each of these uses, God desires to make himself known to his people. The communication of God is always personal and relational, whether he speaks to call things into existence (Gen. 1) or to address an individual directly (Gen. 2:16–17; Exod. 3:14). The prophets and the apostles received the word of God (Deut. 18:14–22; John 16:13), some of which was proclaimed but not recorded. The greatest revelation in this regard is the person of Jesus Christ, who is called the “Word” of God (John 1:1, 14).

The primary focus of this article is the written form of the word of God, the Bible. The psalmist declared God’s word to be an eternal object of hope and trust that gives light and direction (Ps. 119), and Jesus declared the word to be truth (John 17:17). The word is particularized and intimately connected with God himself by means of the key phrases “your word,” “the word of God,” “the word of the Lord,” “word about Christ,” and “the word of Christ” (Rom. 10:17; Col. 3:16). Our understanding of the word is informed by a variety of terms and contexts in the canon of Scripture, a collection of which is found in Psalm 119.

Theology of the Word

From the perspective of many systematic theologians, the word of God is defined with several essential labels. The word is the special revelation of God to humans—specifically, truth communicated from God to his human creatures by supernatural intervention, including a disclosure of his mind and will, his attributes, and his redemptive plans. This revealed word is inspired. Inspiration is an act of the Holy Spirit of God whereby he superintended the biblical authors so that they composed the canonical books of Scripture. Inspiration is verbal and plenary in that it extends to every part of the Bible and includes the choice of words used by the authors.

The word of God is inerrant, free from error in every matter addressed, and infallible, true in every matter addressed. The locus of inspiration, inerrancy, and infallibility is the original manuscripts and not the translations. A translation is reliable when it accurately reflects the meaning of the inspired originals (Matt. 5:18; cf. John 10:35; 17:17; 2 Tim. 3:16; 2 Pet. 1:21). And finally, the word is authoritative. Because the Bible is the divinely inspired word of God reliably composed in the originals without error, it is binding upon people in their relationship with their God as well as their relationships with their fellow human beings. Biblical authority derives from the eternal character of the divine author and the revelatory content of the Scriptures.

Psalm 119

A key OT text extolling the word is Psalm 119 (cf. Pss. 1; 19). The writer glorifies God, his word, and his divine directions to people by means of an acrostic format that covers the subject of Torah meditation. Eight synonyms are used for the “word” in the psalm. The eight are translated in the NIV as “words” (v. 57), “promise” (v. 58), “statutes” (v. 59), “commands” (v. 60), “law” (v. 61), “laws” (v. 62), “precepts” (v. 63), and “decrees” (v. 64).

The Ps. 119 word vocabulary informs us that God has pierced the darkness of our existence with the light of his word to make himself known to us. The word is his word spoken to us and preserved for us. The psalm also instructs us that the word is the will of God. When God pierced our darkness, he lit the path of freedom for us with his word. He described himself, defined righteousness, declared his love, announced his promises, and issued his warnings. Finally, the vocabulary establishes the authority of his word in our lives. Directions, commandments, laws, charges, and divine will ring with the sound of authority. The word of God is an authoritative proclamation from God to us that must be obeyed, that must be sought, that cannot be ignored.

Finally, Ps. 119 makes an intimate connection between the content of the word, things spoken, and the author of the things spoken. This connection better enables us to understand the “Word” as the person of Jesus Christ in John 1. The progressive development of verses 1–2 of Ps. 119 intimately connects the law of God, his statutes, and him, the one sought with all the heart. Verses 89–96 emphasize the durability and eternality of the word in keeping with the eternal character of God. In verse 114 the writer parallels God as refuge with putting hope in his word. Here the writer intimately connects God as a refuge with his word. In the Hebrew text “you” and “your word” stand side by side. In verses 137–44 the writer aligns the righteous God with a righteous word. According to verses 105, 130, 135, God and God’s word give light. The life-giving quality of the word and the Lord are proclaimed in verse 93. Just as God is to be feared, so is his word (vv. 63, 120).

The Word of God

World

In classical Greek, “world” (kosmos) communicated the idea that the external universe is a well-ordered system. In early Greek usage, the term was used with reference to specific types of social orderings, such as the seating order of rowers (Homer, Od. 13.77), the order of soldiers (Homer, Il. 12.225), and well-ordered political states such as Sparta (Herodotus, Hist. 1.65).

Created World

In the OT, the notion of the created “world” departed from the Greek understanding specifically in that creation is never seen as an independent entity controlled by an impersonal, all-embracing order. Rather, the universe, usually described with the phrase “the heavens and the earth” (Gen. 1:1; 2:1, 4; Ps. 113:6; Jer. 10:11) or at times the “all” or “all things” (Ps. 103:19; Jer. 10:16), is always understood in its relationship to its creator: “He who created the heavens, he is God; he who fashioned and made the earth, he founded it; he did not create it to be empty, but formed it to be inhabited—he says: ‘I am the Lord, and there is no other’ ” (Isa. 45:18). Here, the “world” (“earth”) refers to the material elements that make up the planet (see also Jer. 32:17; Zech. 12:1) and the sum total of the entire universe (cf. Acts 17:24). Even in the account of creation in Gen. 1:1–2:4, where many of the elements of the physical world are mentioned (waters, firmament, stars, etc.), the primary intent of the account is to convey that God is Lord over everything because he is the Creator. Often these created elements that make up the world are praised not for their own inherent beauty, but as a testimony to the majesty, supremacy, and omnipotence of the Creator (Pss. 8; 19:1–6; 33:6–9). In Ps. 148:3–6 the elements within the natural order (kosmos) are instructed to praise God: “Praise him, sun and moon; praise him, all you shining stars. Praise him, you highest heavens and you waters above the skies. Let them praise the name of the Lord, for at his command they were created, and he established them for ever and ever—he issued a decree that will never pass away.”

Though not providing a comprehensive description, the OT does at times refer to how the world is constructed as a whole. The “vault” (Gen. 1:6–20 [RSV: “firmament”]) of heaven separates the waters above from the waters below (which are restrained by God’s sovereign care [Gen. 1:7; 7:11; 49:25]), and this area or chamber rests on “pillars” (Job 26:11). At times the earth is described as a disc with the sanctuary as its center point (Judg. 9:37; Ezek. 38:12), which rests on pillars (Job 9:6). There is an underworld, from which there is no return (Job 10:21); however, the OT does not engage in the kind of speculation regarding the underworld as is evident in the Greco-Roman tradition.

Earth and Its Inhabitants

The term “world” conveys other nuances in the Bible. It often refers to the inhabitants of the earth or the place of human life: “He rules the world in righteousness and judges the peoples with equity” (Ps. 9:8 [cf. Pss. 96:13; 98:9]); or, “Come near, you nations, and listen; pay attention, you peoples! Let the earth hear, and all that is in it, the world, and all that comes out of it!” (Isa. 34:1). Also, in the Gospels “world” is used in this way: “What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?” (Mark 8:36). Matthew 4:8 refers to all the kingdoms of the world. Also the expressions “coming into the world” (John 1:9; 3:19), “in the world” (John 1:10; 2 Cor. 1:12), and “leave this world” (1 Cor. 5:10) can be understood as referring to the sphere of human life.

Ungodly Culture and Worldview

“World” can also refer to something more than the material world or humanity in general; it can refer to the entire cultural value system or world order that is hostile toward God. The “world” is a common biblical way of referring to the ungodly worldview and lifestyle that characterize human life in its rebellion against the Creator. The course of the world is profoundly affected by fallen humans, through whom death came into the world and rules over it (Rom. 5:12). Therefore, Paul can claim that “the whole world” has become guilty before God (Rom. 3:19), and even the created world is affected by such rebellion (8:20–22). Paul especially links “this world” with “this age” (1 Cor. 3:19; 5:10; Eph. 2:2 NET), which God has judged (Rom. 3:6). John declares that Satan is the “prince of this world” (John 12:31; 14:30; 16:11). Paul refers to Satan as the “god of this world” (2 Cor. 4:4 ESV, NRSV, NASB), who is able to blind individuals to the truth and who animates human rebellion (Eph. 2:2). In this sense, God and the world are strictly separate: “Don’t you know that friendship with the world means enmity against God? Therefore, anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God” (James 4:4). Because of this call to an exclusive relationship with God, believers are mandated to resist and even confront the world. Followers of Christ must not be taken captive by philosophy or the “elemental spiritual forces of this world” (Col. 2:8, 20), since, as Paul says, “the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world” (Gal. 6:14).

But it is the world that designates the location and object of God’s saving activity. Indeed, God sent his Son into this world in order to reconcile it to himself (2 Cor. 5:19). Jesus, the sacrificial Lamb of God, “takes away the sins of the world” (John 1:29). Out of love for this world, God sent his Son (John 3:1), not to judge it but to save it: “God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him” (John 3:17).

Although believers live in the world (1 Cor. 5:10; Phil. 2:15) and must have dealings with the world, ultimately they are not of the world (John 17:14). Remaining in Christ, believers are able to demonstrate in the world the belief and practice of the new commandment to love (John 13:34; 15:9). Therefore, Christians must maintain a critical distance from the world’s system: “Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in them. For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—comes not from the Father but from the world” (1 John 2:15–16 [cf. James 1:27; 4:4]). Believers are to avoid the seductive power of the world and not abandon themselves to it; they are to follow their Lord in proclaiming God’s project of reconciling the world to himself through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ (2 Cor. 5:18).

Secondary Matches

The following suggestions occured because John 1:1-18 is mentioned in the definition.

Adoption

The voluntary process of granting the rights, privileges, responsibilities, and status of child or heir to an individual or group that was not originally born to the adopter. While birth occurs naturally, adoption occurs only through the exertion of will.

At least two significant figures in the OT were adopted. After Moses’ birth mother kept him alive despite Pharaoh’s command to drown every newborn Hebrew boy in the Nile (Exod. 1:22), Moses was, ironically, adopted by Pharaoh’s daughter (2:10). Esther, or Hadassah, was adopted by her uncle (or cousin) Mordecai upon the death of her parents (Esther 2:7)—this adoption plays an important part in Esther’s ability to prevent the Jewish extermination intended by Haman.

Although adoption is fairly uncommon in the OT, God’s adoption of Israel is of the utmost importance. It demonstrates God’s willingness to initiate relationship with humankind, a truth that later culminated in Jesus Christ. God chooses to adopt the nation of Israel as his child (Deut. 7:6; Isa. 1:2; Hos. 11:1) and more significantly as his firstborn son (Exod. 4:22; Jer. 31:9). Thus God singles out Israel among the nations of the earth, bestowing the highest possible honor.

The concept of adoption is more prevalent in the NT, primarily in the apostle Paul’s writings. Based on the belief that Israel’s exclusive position as the adopted firstborn son of God the Father is no longer deserved, the NT includes those who believe in Jesus Christ as adopted children of God’s eternal family (John 1:12; 11:52; Gal. 4:5; Eph. 1:5; Phil. 2:15; 1 John 3:1). The adopted children of God enjoy all the rights of a natural-born child, including the opportunity to call God “Father,” as Jesus did (e.g., Matt. 5:16; Luke 12:32). Paul in particular uses adoption to describe the Christian’s new relationship with God through the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ (Rom. 8:15–16, 21–23; 9:25–26).

Bible Texts

Bible Texts and Versions The NT and the OT have considerably different but partially overlapping textual histories. For clarity, it is best to begin with a survey of the NT manuscripts and versions.

Greek texts. Although no autographs of the NT books survive, there exist more than five thousand Greek texts covering anywhere from a portion of a few verses up to the complete NT. Traditionally, these texts have been classified into five groups: papyri, uncials, minuscules, lectionaries, and quotations in patristic texts. The most important manuscripts are listed below.

The earliest texts of the NT are those written on papyrus. Ninety-eight of these manuscripts have been identified, and they are represented by a “P” with a numerical superscript. The earliest of these papyri is P52, which contains parts of four verses in John 18 and dates to the early second century. For substantial portions of the NT text, the most important papyri are found in the Chester Beatty and Bodmer collections. P45, P46, and P47, all from the Chester Beatty collection, are from the third century and contain large sections of the four Gospels, eight of the Pauline Epistles, Hebrews, and Revelation. Within the Bodmer collection in Geneva are four very important codices. P66 dates to around AD 200 and preserves most of the Gospel of John. P72 dates to the third century and contains the earliest copies of 1–2 Peter and Jude, which are preserved in their entirety, as well as Greek translations of Pss. 33–34. P74 dates to the seventh century and contains portions of Acts, James, 1–2 Peter, 1–3 John, and Jude. Finally, P75, which dates to the early third century, contains most of Luke and John 1–15. It is the oldest extant copy of Luke. Among the remaining papyri, forty-three have been dated to the early fourth century or before.

The second category of manuscripts is the uncials, which usually were written on parchment and span the fourth through the tenth centuries. About 270 uncials are known, and they range from a few verses up to complete copies of the NT or even the entire Bible. Uncials originally were denoted by capital letters, but when the number of manuscripts grew beyond these limits, a new system was employed whereby each manuscript was given a number always beginning with zero. However, the most important uncials are still usually known by their letter. Among the most important uncials are the following five manuscripts. Codex Sinaiticus (designated by the Hebrew letter à) dates to the fourth century and is the only uncial that contains the entire NT. It also has almost all of the OT as well as the early Christian writings the Epistle of Barnabas and the Shepherd of Hermas. Dating from the fifth century, Codex Alexandrinus (designated as A) contains the OT, most of the NT—lacking only portions of Matthew, John, and 2 Corinthians—and 1–2 Clement. Along with Sinaiticus, the most important uncial is Codex Vaticanus (designated as B), which dates to the fourth century. It contains almost all of the OT and the complete NT, except for substantial portions between Hebrews and Revelation. It has been in the Vatican’s library for over five hundred years. The fourth important uncial is Codex Bezae Cantabrigiensis (designated as D), which contains Greek and Latin copies of the four Gospels, most of Acts, and a few verses from 3 John. It dates from the late fourth or early fifth century. The fifth important uncial is Codex Washingtonianus (designated as W), which dates to the early fifth century and contains virtually all of the four Gospels.

The third category of NT manuscripts is minuscules. These texts date from the ninth century and later and comprise approximately 2,800 manuscripts, which are denoted by a number not beginning with zero. Among the more important minuscules are Codex 1, Codex 13, and Codex 33, which, along with their relatives, are considered reliable witnesses to early families of texts such as the Caesarean (1) or the Alexandrian (33). Codex 13 and its relatives are noteworthy for having the story of the adulterous woman at the end of Luke 21 instead of in John 8. The final two groups of NT manuscripts, the lectionaries and quotations in patristic sources, are not manuscripts in the strict sense of the term, but their use of portions of the NT presents important witnesses for the practice of textual criticism.

Versions. With the spread of Christianity during the time of the Roman Empire, the NT was translated into the language of the native peoples. These versions of the NT are important both for textual criticism of the NT and for the interpretive decisions that are reflected in how the text was rendered into a new language. Among the most important early versions of the NT are the following.

As Latin began to displace Greek as the dominant language of the empire, there was a need for a Latin version of the Bible. The earliest translation, known as the Old Latin or Itala, was made probably in the late second century, though the oldest manuscript (Codex Vercellensis) is from the fourth century. With the proliferation of Latin texts a standardized Latin translation became desirable, and in AD 382 Jerome was commissioned by Pope Damasus to provide a new translation known as the Vulgate.

Another family of NT versions is the Syriac texts. Around the late second century the four Gospels were translated into a version known as the Old Syriac. It is extant in two incomplete manuscripts that are probably fifth century. The translation that became the standard Syriac text is the Peshitta, which was produced in the early fifth century. It does not contain 2 Peter, 2–3 John, Jude, or Revelation because these were not considered canonical among the Syriac churches.

Other important versions of the NT from antiquity are the Coptic, Armenian, Georgian, and Ethiopic translations.

Old Testament

Hebrew texts. The text that has served as the basis for most modern editions and translations of the Hebrew OT is the Masoretic Text (MT), named after the Masoretes, the Jewish scribes who transmitted the text and added vocalization, accentuation, and notes to the consonantal text. The most important Masoretic manuscripts date from the end of the ninth century to the early eleventh century. Notable among these is the Leningrad Codex (AD 1008), denoted as L, which is the earliest Masoretic manuscript of the entire OT. Also important are the Aleppo Codex (c. AD 925), denoted as A, which preserves all of the OT except for most of the Pentateuch; the British Museum MS Or. 4445 (c. AD 925), denoted as B, which contains most of the Pentateuch; and the Cairo Codex (c. AD 896), denoted C, which contains Joshua through Kings and also the Prophets.

Although these manuscripts are much later than the biblical period, their reliability was largely confirmed with the discovery of the DSS beginning in 1947. Among the Qumran library are many manuscripts of biblical books as well as biblical commentaries, apocrphyal and pseudepigraphal works, and sectarian literature. All the OT books are represented among the scrolls that were found except Esther and Nehemiah, though the latter is usually presumed to have been at the end of Ezra but has not survived. The books with the most manuscripts are, in order, Psalms, Deuteronomy, and Isaiah. One of the striking characteristics of these scrolls is that they reflect a diversity of text types. For example, there is a copy of Jeremiah that is close to the Masoretic version, but also a manuscript of Jeremiah similar to the much shorter version found in the Septuagint (the Greek translation of the OT).

Another Hebrew text of the OT is that of the Samaritan Pentateuch, which is the text transmitted by the Samaritans. It is similar to the MT in some respects but also has differences that reflect theological interests. The main manuscripts for the Samaritan Pentateuch are from the twelfth century.

Versions. Between the third and first centuries BC, the entire OT was translated into Greek. This version, known as the Septuagint (designated by the abbreviation LXX), became the main version of the OT used by the early church. Due to its adoption by the church, the LXX has been preserved in numerous manuscripts, including Sinaiticus, Alexandrinus, and Vaticanus. By the late first century BC or early first century AD, there were two revisions of the Greek text: the Proto-Lucianic version and the Kaige recension. The latter aimed to revise the Greek toward closer conformity with the Hebrew text and derives its name from its peculiar tendency to translate the Hebrew word gam (“also”) with the Greek work kaige. In the second century AD three other Greek translations were made by Aquila, Theodotion, and Symmachus, all of which revised the Kaige recension back toward the MT.

Another important early version of the OT consists of the Targumim, which are Aramaic translations or paraphrases (and sometimes extensive elaborations) of OT books. The official Targumim for Judaism are Targum Onqelos for the Pentateuch (c. second century AD), which is quite literal, and Targum Pseudo-Jonathan for the Prophets (sometime before the fourth century AD), which ranges from being quite literal to somewhat paraphrastic. Unofficial Targumim for the Pentateuch include Targum Neofiti and Targum Pseudo-Jonathan. There are also various unofficial Targumim for the Writings section of the OT, except for Daniel and Ezra-Nehemiah (which are already written partly in Aramaic).

Besides the Greek and Aramaic translations, there are other important versions of the OT. Sometime in either the third or fourth century AD, the Peshitta of the OT was produced, though there is evidence that there were earlier Syriac translations of some books already circulating. Also important is a group of Latin translations known collectively as the Old Latin. These versions were produced sometime during the second century AD and were primarily made from already existing Greek translations rather than Hebrew texts. As with the NT, a later Latin translation was made by Jerome for the Vulgate.

Bible Versions

Bible Texts and Versions The NT and the OT have considerably different but partially overlapping textual histories. For clarity, it is best to begin with a survey of the NT manuscripts and versions.

Other important versions of the NT from antiquity are the Coptic, Armenian, Georgian, and Ethiopic translations.

Old Testament

Book of Genesis

The book of Genesis (“Origins”) is well named because it provides the foundation for the rest of the Bible and speaks of the beginnings of the world, humanity, sin, redemption, the people of God, covenant, marriage, Sabbath, work, and much more. Genesis is the first chapter of the Pentateuch, a five-part story of the origins of the nation of Israel. Genesis is the preamble to that account, leading up to the pivotal moment of the exodus and the move toward the promised land.

Authorship

As noted above, Genesis is the opening to the Pentateuch as a whole, so the question of the authorship of Genesis is connected to the question of the authorship of the Pentateuch as a whole. Genesis (and the entire Pentateuch) is anonymous, though Moses is said to have written down certain traditions that were included in the Pentateuch (Exod. 17:14; 24:4; 34:27; Num. 33:2; Deut. 31:22).

Later tradition speaks of the “law of Moses” (Josh. 1:7–8) or the “Book of Moses” (2 Chron. 25:4; Ezra 6:18; Neh. 13:1), though it is not certain whether these refer to the entire Pentateuch or merely to portions of it that were associated with Moses. The NT writers, as well as Jesus himself, speak of the Pentateuch in connection with Moses (e.g., Matt. 19:7; 22:24; Mark 7:10; 12:26; John 1:17; 5:46; 7:23).

The question of Moses’ role in writing the Pentateuch is more complicated, however. For instance, there are indications that Genesis was updated well after the death of Moses. Traditionally, these passages are called “post-Mosaica,” because they contain information that could be available only after the death of Moses. For example, Deut. 34 speaks of Moses’ death and burial. Apparently so much time has elapsed since his death that the writer can say, “to this day no one knows where his grave is” (v. 6). The writer then states, “since then, no prophet has risen in Israel like Moses” (v. 10), which also presumes a considerable length of time has passed. Other examples include Gen. 11:31, which refers to Abraham’s hometown as “Ur of the Chaldeans.” Although Ur was a very ancient city, the Chaldeans were an Aramaic-speaking tribe that only occupied Ur long after the time of Moses. Similarly, in Gen. 14:14 a city by the name of “Dan” is mentioned, but we know from Judg. 18 that this city only received this name during the period of the judges.

Despite these considerations, some scholars are still comfortable ascribing some “essential” authorship role to Moses. (For the main alternative theory for the authorship and date of the writing of Genesis, see Documentary Hypothesis; Pentateuch.)

Structure and Outline

Genesis may be outlined in more than one way. One method is to follow the toledot formulas that serve as an organizing structure for the book. The phrase “these are the toledot of X” (where X is the personal name of the character whose sons are the subject of the narrative that follows) is repeated ten times: 2:4; 5:1; 6:9; 10:1; 11:10, 27; 25:12, 19; 36:1 (cf. 36:9); 37:2 (see also 10:32; 25:13). For instance, Gen. 11:27 begins, “These are the toledot of Terah” (NIV: “This is the account of Terah’s family line”), while the account that follows is the story of Terah’s son Abraham. Toledot is best translated as “family history” or “account.” Hence, one can take Genesis as having a prologue (1:1–2:3) followed by ten episodes.

In terms of content and style, the book falls into three main units as follows:

I. The Primeval History (Gen. 1:1–11:26)

II. The Patriarchal Narrative (Gen. 11:27–36:43)

III. The Joseph Story (Gen. 37–50)

I. The primeval history (Gen. 1:1–11:26). The book opens with an account of creation given in two parts. Genesis 1:1–2:4a provides a creation account that describes the six days in which God created the heavens and the earth, followed by a seventh day of rest. Genesis 2:4b–25 then provides a second account of creation, this time with a focus on the creation of Adam and Eve. Genesis 3 then narrates the first sin of humanity, which introduces sin and death into the world. Genesis 4–11 provides four additional stories (the murder of Abel by Cain, the intermarrying of the “sons of God” with the “daughters of men,” the flood, and the tower of Babel). These stories show a creation gone wrong, God’s move to start over again with Noah and his family, and the persistence of sin thereafter. All of this leads to the story of the patriarchs, where God’s plan to set things right takes a decisive turn. These stories are connected by genealogies that mark the march of time as well as provide significant theological commentary.

II. The patriarchal narrative (Gen. 11:27–36:43). The middle section of the book of Genesis turns its attention to the patriarchs, so called because they are the fathers of the nation of Israel. The style of the book changes at this point, so that rather than following the story of all the world and moving at a fast pace, the narrative slows down and focuses on God creating a people to obey him and to bring those blessings to the whole world (12:1–3). God now determines to restore the blessing lost at Eden by reaching the world through the descendants of one individual, Abraham.

Abraham’s father, Terah, took Abram (as Abraham was then known), Abram’s wife Sarai (Sarah), and Terah’s grandson Lot and left Ur to settle in Harran in northern Mesopotamia. No explanation is given why. While they are settled in Harran, God commands Abraham to leave Ur in Mesopotamia and travel to Canaan. God promises that he will make him a great nation (implying land and many descendants), and that he will be blessed and will be a blessing to the nations (Gen. 12:1–3). That blessing requires Abraham and Sarah to have children, and this sets up much of the drama of his story. Often Abraham reacts in fear and not faith, but at the end of his story he has a solid confidence in God’s ability to take care of him and bring all the promises to fulfillment (Gen. 22).

Isaac, not Ishmael (Abraham’s son through Sarah’s maidservant Hagar; see Gen. 16), is the conduit of the promises to future generations. Even so, Isaac is not a highly developed character in the book of Genesis, although his near sacrifice in Gen. 22 is certainly a matter of great interest. The episode in his life that receives the lengthiest attention is the courtship with Rebekah (Gen. 24), and there the focus is primarily on her.

The account of Isaac’s life gives way to an account of his son Jacob. Jacob is a complex character. The first episodes of his story are about how he, the younger, inherits the blessing and becomes the conduit for the promise rather than his older brother, Esau. Jacob becomes an example of how God uses the foolish things of the world to accomplish his purposes. That the story of the patriarchs is a preamble to the story of the founding of Israel becomes obvious when Jacob’s name is changed to “Israel” after he fights with God (Gen. 32:22–32) and his wives give birth to twelve sons, who give their names to the twelve tribes of Israel.

III. The Joseph story (Gen. 37–50). The third section of Genesis focuses on the twelve sons of Jacob, in particular Joseph. A main theme seems to be God’s providential preservation of the family of the promise, in the context of a devastating famine. Joseph himself expresses the theme of this section at the end of the narrative, after his father dies and his brothers now wonder whether he will seek revenge against them. He reassures them by his statement that although they had meant their actions to harm him, he knows that God has used these very actions for good, for the salvation of the family of God (Gen. 50:19–20). Yes, they had just wanted to get rid of him, but God has used their jealousy to bring Joseph to Egypt. The wife of his owner had wanted to frame him for rape, but God has used this false accusation in order to have him thrown into jail, where he meets two of Pharaoh’s chief advisers. He had demonstrated to them his ability to interpret dreams, so when the chief cupbearer is restored to a position of influence, he can advise Pharaoh himself to turn to Joseph to interpret his disturbing dreams. These dreams have allowed Pharaoh, with Joseph’s help, to prepare for the famine. Joseph has risen to great prominence in Egypt, so when the famine comes, he is in a position to help his family, and the promise can continue to the next generations.

Among other secondary, yet important, themes of the Joseph narrative are the rising prominence of Judah and the lessening significance of Reuben. Judah at first is pictured as self-serving (Gen. 38), but by the end of the story he is willing to sacrifice himself for the good of his father and family (Gen. 44:18–34). This story thus demonstrates why the descendants of Judah have dominance over the descendants of the firstborn, Reuben, in later Israelite history. Also, the Joseph story recounts how Israel came to Egypt. This sets up the events of the book of Exodus.

Style and Genre

Style. Genesis is written in Hebrew prose of a high literary style. Words are carefully chosen not only to communicate the message of the book but also to attract the reader’s interest and attention.

Genre. Genesis is an account of the origins of the cosmos, humanity, and the people of God. Thus, it is proper to refer to the book as a work of history. Of course, there is more than one type of history. Some histories focus on wars, others on economics or politics. Moreover, Genesis is not history in the modern sense but follows ancient conventions, which do not call for scrupulous accuracy. The central concern of Genesis, as with the majority of biblical histories, is the relationship between God and his people. So, it is appropriate to identify Genesis as a theological history.

Some readers misunderstand the nature of the historical information that the book provides. For example, Gen. 1–2 communicates to the reader that it is the true God, not a god such as the Babylonian Marduk or the Canaanite Baal, who created the cosmos. The way some of the stories are told provides a challenge to rival stories from other ancient religions. One example is how the Bible describes the creation of Adam from the dust of the ground and the breath of God. This contrasts with the Mesopotamian creation account Enuma Elish, in which the god Marduk creates the first humans from the clay of the earth and the blood of a demon god. The biblical flood story also may be compared to other ancient flood stories, especially the account of the flood found in the Babylonian Epic of Gilgamesh. Genesis clearly interacts with such mythological stories to communicate important truths about the primeval period.

Message

The rich and complex book of Genesis pre-sents a profound message concerning God and his relationship with human beings. This short article cannot do justice to the book’s depth and importance, but it can point to what is perhaps its most important theme: God’s blessing.

Genesis 1–2 teaches that God created Adam and Eve and blessed them. They had everything they needed in the garden of Eden. They enjoyed a perfectly harmonious relationship with God and with each other. They wanted for nothing.

Genesis 3 explains how this blessed existence was disrupted. By choosing to rebel against God, Adam and Eve ruptured their relationship with God and, in consequence, with each other as well. They were expelled from the garden of Eden.

Even in the midst of his judgment, however, God began the work of restoring the blessing to his human creatures (Gen. 3:15). Thus begins the relentless work of God to bring restoration to his people.

New Testament Connections

Genesis is the foundation not just of the Pentateuch, and not just of the OT, but of the entire Bible. The story that begins with creation and fall is followed by the history of redemption, which continues into the NT and which understands Jesus Christ as the one whose death and resurrection serve to restore God’s blessing to his people. The full restoration of relationship awaits the consummation of history and the new Jerusalem, which is described in language telling us that heaven is a restoration (and more) of the conditions enjoyed by Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden (Rev. 21–22, esp. Rev. 22:2).

Of the many allusions to and quotations of Genesis found in the NT, only a few representative examples may be described here.

Paul points to the Abrahamic promise of the seed in Gen. 12:1–3 and proclaims that Jesus is that seed (Gal. 3:15–16). This claim is surprising in light of the OT’s clear understanding that it was the multiple descendants of Abraham constituting Israel who fulfilled this promise (Gen. 15:15). Paul would have known this, but he recognizes that Jesus is the ultimate descendant of Abraham, and that anyone who belongs to Jesus, Jew or Gentile, is also a participant in the Abrahamic promise (Gal. 3:29).

A second example comes from the way in which the author of Hebrews cites the Melchizedek tradition of Gen. 14:17–20. In Genesis, Melchizedek is a mysterious figure who is introduced as the priest-king of Salem (Jerusalem), whom Abraham acknowledges as a fellow worshiper of the true God. In order to make his argument that Jesus is the ultimate priest, the author of Hebrews connects Jesus with Melchizedek rather than with Aaron and asserts the superiority of Melchizedek because Abraham (and thus also Levi, Aaron’s ancestor) paid respects to this man (Heb. 7:1–10).

A final example comes from the Joseph narrative. Earlier, we observed that the narrative shows how God used the evil actions of people in order to save many people. In this, the Joseph narrative anticipates the death of Christ, who was nailed to the cross by the hands of wicked people, but God used this very action to accomplish a much greater salvation than he did through Joseph (see Acts 2:22–24).

Book of Jonah

The book of Jonah is best known for its “large fish,” commonly and mistakenly called a “whale.” Jonah is the fifth book among the twelve Minor Prophets. The other eleven books are collections of prophetic oracles, but Jonah is a story about a prophet. In this, it is more like the accounts of Elijah and Elisha in the book of Kings than it is like a regular prophetic book. Jonah tells the story of a gracious God, a reluctant and resentful prophet (who represents God’s hard-hearted people Israel), and repentant sinners.

Historical Background

The book of Jonah does not name an author, and so we cannot be certain of the date when it was written. We can, however, date the main character of the book, Jonah, to the reign of Jeroboam II (r. 786–746 BC) because of 2 Kings 14:25, where this prophet anticipates the expansion of the northern kingdom.

During this period, Assyria was relatively weak, allowing the northern kingdom to expand. Although we are not sure precisely which Assyrian king is featured in the book, we can be certain that the setting of the book precedes the rapid rise of the energetic Tiglath-pileser III, who began his reign in 744 BC.

Literary Considerations

Jonah is not a typical prophetic book. It is an account of a prophet, not a collection of prophetic oracles. The debate over Jonah concerns whether it is a historical account or a parable.

In favor of the former, 2 Kings 14:25 names Jonah as a prophet during the reign of Jeroboam II. In addition, the style of the book of Jonah is not different from what we find in the so-called historical books of the OT. A third argument appeals to Jesus’ reference to Jonah and Nineveh in Matt. 12:39–40; Luke 11:29–30.

Some doubt the historical nature of Jonah because of the extraordinary (they would say unbelievable) account of the prophet’s three-day stay in the belly of the large fish. Others are also skeptical about the report of Nineveh’s repentance, which is not recorded in Assyrian historical documents (cf. Jon. 3:6–9).

In response to the first objection, it can be said that God can do anything, even sustain a person’s life in the belly of a fish. One need not appeal to fictional reports of modern-day whalers who survive such ordeals. God controls all his creatures, and if he so desired, Jonah could have been swallowed and come out healthy. In response to the second objection, we must admit that we know precious little about Assyria in the first half of the eighth century BC. What we do know is that central Assyrian authority was weak. Indeed, we should entertain the possibility that the “king of Nineveh” (Jon. 3:6) was a strong local leader and not the king of a vast empire, therefore making it unsurprising that we have no other record of the Ninevites’ repentance.

Even so, besides the reference to Jonah and Nineveh, the world of the book is presented in an intentionally vague way. For instance, the Assyrian king is not named. Further, the book is a literary tour de force. It is highly stylized. Indeed, the argument might be made that it is told in a way that would particularly appeal to children. Note, for example, how everything is “big”—the city of Nineveh, the wind and storm, the fish. The message of the story is a moral, theological lesson and is not tied to a specific redemptive history.

Outline

I. Act I: Jonah Flees from Nineveh (1:1–2:10)

A. Jonah aboard the ship (1:1–16)

B. Jonah aboard the fish (1:17–2:10)

II. Act II: Jonah Goes to Nineveh (3:1–4:11)

A. Jonah preaches to Nineveh (3:1–10)

B. Jonah preaches to God (4:1–11)

Structure

The book may be divided into two major acts with two scenes each. God commissions the prophet twice, once in 1:1–2 and a second time in 3:1–2. These passages introduce the two acts. In the first act, the first scene is aboard the ship, and the second is in the belly of the big fish. The second act is also divided into two episodes. In the first, Jonah preaches and Nineveh repents; in the second, the setting is now east of Nineveh, where Jonah is in a dispute with God over judgment and salvation.

Theological Message

One of the interesting features of Jonah is the way it contrasts Gentiles and Jonah, who apparently functions as a representation of Israel. While Jonah resists the will of God, the Gentiles appear spiritually sensitive. While Jonah sleeps during the divinely sent storm, the pagan sailors anxiously determine the divine purpose behind their trouble. While Jonah refuses and then reluctantly announces the destruction of Nineveh, the king of Nineveh leads his people (and even the animals!) in a ritual of repentance.

In this way, the book rebukes Jonah (and Israel) for its lack of spiritual sensitivity and concern. The book also illustrates God’s grace toward the nations. After all, Israel’s election was to be a conduit of blessing to the nations (Gen. 12:1–3; cf. Isa. 42:6; 49:6). Although Assyria was a horrible oppressor, God’s grace is shown to such people.

In a word, the book of Jonah teaches that God is not just the God of Israel. He is the God of Israel, the God of Nineveh, and the God of the whole universe.

New Testament Connections

In its concern for Gentiles, the book of Jonah anticipates the NT message that God is the God of all people and not just Israel (John 1:6–14). Jesus compared his ministry to that of Jonah (Matt. 12:38–45; Luke 11:24–32). When asked for a miraculous sign, he said that he would be three days and three nights in the earth, just as Jonah spent three days in the belly of the big fish. The three days and nights refer to his crucifixion and his resurrection. He is “greater than Jonah” (Matt. 12:41). Jonah was a reluctant prophet who involuntarily spent the time in the fish’s belly, while Jesus voluntarily gave up his life to save many people.

Book of Proverbs

Purpose

The preface to the book of Proverbs (1:1–7) introduces its intent to make its reader wise. Although the discourses of the book (chaps. 1–9) are the instructions of a father to his son, the preface widens the audience to include both the “simple” (1:4) and the “wise” (1:5). The preface also informs the reader that wisdom begins with the fear of the Lord, thus indicating that wisdom is more than practical advice. Wisdom is a theological truth.

Historical Background

The first verse of Proverbs associates the book with “Solomon son of David, king of Israel” (1:1). Solomon was the king of a united Israel in the tenth century BC, and his association with wisdom is well known from the historical books (1 Kings 3; 4:29–34; 10:1–13; 2 Chron. 1; 9:1–12).

Although Proverbs clearly attributes large sections of the book to Solomon (particularly 10:1–22:16; 25:1–29:27), it also recognizes other hands in the production of the book. First, 25:1, while associating Solomon with the following proverbs, also mentions the scribal activity of “the men of Hezekiah,” a Judean king from the late eighth and early seventh centuries BC. Second, 22:17–24:34 is connected to a group known as “the wise” (see 22:17; 24:23). Below, we will see that this section bears comparison with ancient Egyptian proverbial literature. Finally, there are sayings of two foreign kings, Agur (30:1) and Lemuel respectively (31:1).

In summary, Solomon is the fountainhead of the book of Proverbs. He created and collected proverbs, thus initiating the collection. After Solomon, other proverbs were added to the collection, including some of his own (25:1). We do not know precisely when the book came to a final form, though it was before the canon of the OT was closed.

Ancient Near Eastern Background

In 1 Kings 4:29–30 Solomon’s wisdom is said to surpass that of the “people of the East” as well as “the wisdom of Egypt.” Such a statement can be a compliment only if the wisdom of the broader ancient Near East had some measure of validity. Once the merit of ancient Near Eastern wisdom is recognized, we may not be surprised to see some measure of similarity between certain proverbs and wisdom from outside Israel.

The most famous comparison is between the thirty “sayings of the wise” in Prov. 22:17–24:22 and the thirty chapters of the Egyptian Instructions of Amenemope. The latter is dated before the time of Solomon and contains instructions similar to Proverbs. One example is the instruction “Do not move an ancient boundary stone” in Prov. 23:10 and the similar admonition in Amenemope 7.12.

More recently, the connections between Proverbs and ancient Near Eastern proverbs have been broadened to include not only other ancient Egyptian instruction texts but also Sumerian and especially Aramaic proverbial literature (particularly Ahiqar).

It appears that the faithful in Israel recognized that even observant pagans could stumble across truths about how God’s creation works. Even so, the faithful in Israel would not recognize their Egyptian counterparts as “wise” even when they were perhaps inspired by their insights into the workings of the world. After all, they did not have “fear of the Lord” and did not embrace Wisdom (see below).

Social Setting

The proverbs of the biblical book seem to come from different sectors of Israelite society. It is not surprising, considering the role of Solomon and the “men of Hezekiah,” that a number of proverbs originated and have their primary usage in the royal court (23:1–3). Even so, other proverbs originate in village life of agrarian society (10:5). When the latter are found in parts of the book attributed to Solomon, he might be the collector rather than the creator.

Text

The Greek translation of Proverbs has significant differences from the main Hebrew texts, particularly in its outline. While some scholars see this as evidence of two different editions of the book, others more plausibly argue that the Greek text is a very free translation that reflects Stoic philosophy and Jewish midrashic thinking. Modern English translations, thus, are based on the ancient Hebrew texts.

Literary Considerations

Structure. The book of Proverbs can be outlined in more than one way. As noted above, the book contains rubrics indicating different authors, and on that basis the book may be divided in the following way:

1:1: Solomon, for the whole book

10:1: Solomon, for 10:1–22:16

22:17: The wise (see also 24:23), for 22:17–24:34

30:1: Agur, for 30:1–33

31:1: Lemuel, for 31:1–9

Recognizing that 1:1 is a superscription for the entire book, and that 1:1–7 is a preamble certainly added late in the process of collection to describe the purpose of the whole book, we find the following structure:

Superscription (1:1)

Preamble (Stating the Purpose) (1:2–7)

Solomonic Proverbs (10:1–22:16; 25:1–29:27)

Sayings of the Wise (22:17–24:34)

Sayings of Lemuel (30:1–33)

Poem to the Virtuous Woman (31:10–31)

On a large scale, the most interesting structural insight is that chapters 1–9 contain extended discourses, while chapters 10–31 contain the proverbs per se (see “Genre” below). The discourses in the first nine chapters have the following outline:

The preamble (1:1–7)

Avoid evil associations (1:8–19)

Do not resist Wisdom (1:20–33)

The benefits of the way of wisdom (2:1–22)

Trust in Yahweh (3:1–12)

Praising wisdom (3:13–20)

The integrity of wisdom (3:21–35)

Embrace wisdom (4:1–9)

Stay on the right path (4:10–19)

Guard your heart (4:20–27)

Avoid promiscuous women (part 1) (5:1–23)

Wisdom admonitions: loans, laziness, lying, and other topics (6:1–19)

The danger of adultery (6:20–35)

Avoid promiscuous women (part 2) (7:1–27)

Wisdom’s autobiography (8:1–36)

Miscellaneous wisdom sayings (9:7–12)

The second part of the book (chaps. 10–31) seems more randomly structured, with the individual proverbs moving from one topic (laziness, parental authority, wealth and poverty, speech, etc.) to another in no apparent order. Some recent commentators have tried to discover a deep structure to the material, but they have failed to convince a wide audience. As we will see below (“Theological Message”), the fact that the discourses precede the proverbs has important theological significance.

Genre. Proverbs is a book of wisdom. On the surface, biblical wisdom appears to be practical advice about how to live life. How does one navigate difficulties in order to achieve success, defined as a happy, prosperous, productive life? In many ways it is similar to the modern concept of emotional intelligence. It is not so much a matter of knowing facts as it is a skill of living, saying the right thing and doing the right thing at the right time.

But careful reading of the book demonstrates that wisdom is deeper than practical lessons in living. Wisdom from the start involves a theological dimension. As explained more fully below, one cannot be wise unless one has a proper relationship with God. After all, “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge” (1:7).

As a book that teaches wisdom, Proverbs fits into a category of literature that includes Job and Ecclesiastes as well as various psalms (e.g., Pss. 1; 49; 73).

Within the book of Proverbs, we discover two dominant types of literature: the discourse and the proverb per se.

The discourse is the major genre of chapters 1–9. These are extended speeches, typically of a father to a son (e.g., 1:8–19), but occasionally of Wisdom to all the young men who are going by (1:20–33). Both the father and Wisdom encourage their hearers to stay on the path of wisdom, which leads to life, and to avoid folly, which leads to death. Most of the discourses of Proverbs begin with an exhortation that summons the hearer to pay attention and often gives motivation for doing so. It is followed by a lesson (notice, e.g., the extensive teaching about proper sexual relationships in chaps. 5–7). A conclusion typically talks about the consequences of listening or not listening to the lesson.

The bulk of the second part, chapters 10–31, is proverbs per se, though there are longer forms, such as the poem to the virtuous woman (31:10–31). The proverb is a short (typically a two-part parallel line) saying that provides an observation, warning, or encouragement concerning a certain type of behavior. An example is the observation in 10:4: “Lazy hands make for poverty, but diligent hands bring wealth.” Although this proverb simply makes an observation, it implicitly offers encouragement to live with diligence in order to avoid poverty.

The proverb as a genre makes no claim to universal truth. While some proverbs are always true by virtue of their link with a law that is always true (e.g., 30:20, reflecting the commandment not to commit adultery), the proverb itself does not claim to always be true. Proverbs are true only if applied at the right time and in the right situation. That is why we encounter contradictory proverbs such as 26:4 and 26:5, where the advice not to answer a fool is followed immediately by the advice to answer a fool. The wise person must read the situation in order to know which of these two proverbs is applicable.

The circumstantial nature of proverbs is also typically true of observations such as the one in 10:4, noted above. It is not always true that lazy people become poor or that hard workers become rich. The former might inherit a fortune, while the latter might have their hard work destroyed by a natural catastrophe.

In order to use proverbs correctly, readers and users of proverbs must recognize the circumstantial nature of the truth claims of a proverb. After all, proverbs misused are useless (26:7) and even dangerous (26:9).

Another common misuse of a proverb involves the “rewards” and “punishments” described in relationship to wise and foolish behavior. These are not promises. They are, instead, the most likely outcome from a particular course of action, all other things being equal. Thus, the advice to “start children off on the way they should go” tells parents the best route to a desired end (22:6). If they do so, it is likely that their children will not turn from the way of wisdom. But there is no guarantee. Other factors might lead the child astray.

Style. The book of Proverbs is poetry (see Imagery; Poetry). It utilizes figurative language to convey its message. Perhaps the most intriguing image in the book is that of Wisdom (see below). The poetry of Proverbs also uses sound plays as well as the acrostic form (31:20–31) (see Acrostic).

Theological Message

Fear of the Lord. According to Proverbs, no one can be wise without having the proper relationship with God (1:7). This relationship is characterized by “fear.” This fear is not horror, but it is more than respect. The point is that the wise person must understand that God, and no one else, is at the center of the universe, that God is more important than any human being. After all, God created the world (3:19–20; 8:22–31), so it is important to know one’s place before the Creator in order to understand how the world works.

Wisdom and Folly. The relational nature of wisdom as “fear of the Lord” is taught in yet another intriguing way. In 1:20–33; 8:1–36; 9:1–6 the reader encounters a woman, Wisdom, who invites all the young men (the readers) to dinner. Such an invitation presumes an intimate relationship. The location of Wisdom’s home on “the highest point of the city” (9:3) reflects the location of the temple and indicates that Wisdom stands for Yahweh’s wisdom, even Yahweh himself. On the other hand, in 9:13–18 another woman, Folly, issues a rival invitation. Her home too is on “the highest point of the city” (9:14), indicating that she stands for a god as well, but in her case the false gods of the nations. In chapter 9, the reader must decide with whom to dine, Wisdom (Yahweh) or Folly (false gods). Thus, wisdom and folly are not only practical, but also theological categories. Someone who acts wisely is behaving like a proper worshiper of the true God, whereas someone who acts foolishly is behaving like an idolater.

New Testament Connections

The Letter of James has many interesting connections with Proverbs. It describes “the wisdom that comes from heaven” (3:17) and speaks to a number of proverbial topics. In terms of the latter, the extensive teaching about speech is notable (3:1–12).

The most striking NT connection to Proverbs, however, comes in the association drawn between Jesus and Wisdom, particularly as she is described in Prov. 8. John 1 describes Jesus as the Word in language reminiscent of Wisdom, and he is connected with Wisdom in Matt. 11:19; Col. 1:15–20; Rev. 3:14. It is not that Wisdom is a prophecy of Jesus, but the NT associates this figure of Yahweh’s wisdom with Jesus because in him “are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge” (Col. 2:3).

Chaos

In the Bible chaos primarily refers to an opposite condition to the orderliness of the creation or a mythical force often represented by the sea or the sea monster(s) (translated as “dragon,” “Leviathan,” or “Rahab”). The two related ideas are based on the creation accounts recorded in Gen. 1–2 and other places.

Old Testament. In Gen. 1:2 chaos is the state of darkness and desolation (note the phrase “formless and empty” [Heb. tohu wabohu], which probably refers to the state of desolation of water with nothing in it; cf. Isa. 34:11; 45:18). The rest of the chapter describes how God in his absolute sovereignty and power—only with his words—creates order in place of the chaos. God brings light to the darkness, separates the land from the sea, and provides the land with abundance. The portrayal of the garden of Eden (2:4–14) further describes God’s provision of orderliness, fertility, eternal life, and harmony in the original creation.

Although the Genesis account does not directly mention any mythical elements (i.e., the primordial combat between the sea and the prime god), other passages describe creation as the event in which God calmed the raging sea and killed the sea monsters (Pss. 74:12–17; 89:9–12; Job 26:7–14). Still, nowhere are the chaotic forces presented as an independent power that constantly challenges God’s sovereignty. Rather, God always does whatever he pleases with them, lifting up the waves of the sea (Ps. 107:25; Jer. 31:35; cf. Ps. 146:6) and uncovering Death and Destruction (Job 26:6). Isaiah alludes to God’s slaying of the chaotic sea creature not only as the past event (51:9), but also as the promise to be realized in the day of the Lord (27:1).

In Genesis, God’s judgment is frequently described by means of the chaos motif, as a precreation condition reversed—for example, loss of harmony, fruitfulness, and eternal life (Gen. 3:15–24), return of the waters over the land (Gen. 7–8), loss of communication (11:7–9), and desolation of the fruitful land (19:23–28; cf. 13:10).

The chaos motif also plays an important role in the prophetic descriptions of God’s judgment against his people and against the foreign nations. Noteworthy is Jer. 4:23–26, which depicts God’s judgment upon his people in terms of chaos’s return—that is, the condition of “formless and empty,” without light, creatures, or fruitful land (cf. Hos. 4:3). In Isa. 34:11 God’s judgment upon Edom is expressed with the characteristic phrase in Gen. 1:2: “God will stretch out over Edom the measuring line of chaos [tohu, ‘formless’] and the plumb line of desolation [bohu, ‘empty’].” In other places Isaiah frequently employs the imageries of desolation (5:6; 7:23–25; 13:19–22; 24:1–13; 34:8–17), darkness (5:30; 8:22; 13:10), and flood (8:7–8).

New Testament. The concept of chaos developed in the OT provides an important background for understanding the NT. The Gospel writers use the chaos motif in describing Jesus’ person and work—for example, as light in the darkness (John 1:4–9; 3:19), as provider of abundance and eternal life (John 3:16; 4:14; 5:51; 6:1–15), and as the sovereign ruler of the chaotic sea, who walks on the water (Matt. 14:22–36; Mark 6:47–55; John 6:16–21) and calms the stormy sea with his words (Matt. 8:23–27; Mark 4:35–41; Luke 8:22–25). Jesus’ resurrection is his ultimate demonstration of his reign over death (cf. 1 Cor. 15).

Paul further uses the chaos motif to describe the life of sinners or the sinful world. The identity of believers is changed from “darkness” to “light” or “children of light,” who now must shine the light in the world (Eph. 5:8; cf. Matt. 5:15–16; Phil. 2:15).

In the book of Revelation the ultimate restoration of the perfect creation order is presented, making allusions to the OT mythical descriptions of the chaotic forces (e.g., Satan as the dragon [12:15–16], Death and Hades as the underground forces [20:13–14]). Particularly, the new Jerusalem is the place of no sea or darkness or death (21:1, 4, 23–25) but of fruitfulness and eternal life (22:1–2).

Child

Patriarchal Structures

Aristotelian Household Codes

Marriage and Divorce

Children, Parenting, and Education

Abortion commonly took place in the Greco-Roman world. Women therefore had to be encouraged to continue in their pregnancies (1 Tim. 2:15).

Children were of low social status in society. Infant mortality was high. An estimated 60 percent of the children in the first-century Mediterranean society were dead by the age of sixteen.

Family as an Analogy

Chosen People

The choice or selection of a person or group, especially God’s determination of who will be saved.

Terminology

On occasion, the language of being “elect” is used as a description of Christ, or perhaps even a title. Isaiah, in one of his Servant Songs, gives a description that is probably best taken as a veiled reference to Christ in his unique relationship with the Father: “Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen [or ‘elect’] one in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him, and he will bring justice to the nations” (Isa. 42:1). There is similar usage in the NT, where Jesus is described in 1 Pet. 2:6 (using a quotation from Isa. 28:16): “For in Scripture it says: ‘See, I lay a stone in Zion, a chosen [or ‘elect’] and precious cornerstone, and the one who trusts in him will never be put to shame.’ ”

Many times the word “elect” is used in Scripture as a synonym for believers. For example, Jesus speaks of the future time when “he will send his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of the heavens to the other” (Matt. 24:31). Similarly, Peter addresses his first letter “to God’s elect” (1 Pet. 1:1). John does something similar in his second letter, addressed to “the lady chosen by God [KJV, RSV: “elect lady”] and to her children, whom I love in the truth” (2 John 1).

Election and Salvation

There is more to this terminology, though, than simply a descriptive name for Christ or God’s people. Other passages are more explanatory in nature and imply a definite and active place for God’s involvement in the salvation process. For example, Peter continues on in his introduction to his first letter with a description of the elect as those “who have been chosen [KJV: ‘elect’] according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, to be obedient to Jesus Christ and sprinkled with his blood” (1 Pet. 1:2). Here there is the key question of how we should understand the role of God’s foreknowledge in the expression “chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father.” Some argue that this is simply telling us that God is able to look forward and know ahead of time who will exercise faith and be saved, so salvation is simply based on a purely human decision after all.

However, Rom. 9 suggests otherwise. This chapter, perhaps more than any other, sheds light on God’s election of his people. Paul is in the process of explaining how God’s plan of redemption (which he has been developing in Rom. 1–8) applies to his own Jewish people. If the gospel is really as powerful as Paul claims, why has it produced so little fruit among God’s own covenant people, the Jews? Paul answers, “It is not as though God’s word had failed. For not all who are descended from Israel are Israel” (9:6). Then, in the following verses, Paul explains what he means by “not all Israel are Israel.” Not every child of Abraham is a child of faith (9:7–13). The promise has come only through Isaac, and not through Abraham’s other sons, Ishmael and the six sons of Keturah (see Gen. 25:1). Similarly, the line of promise and blessing does not involve all of Isaac and Rebekah’s children either, but only Jacob and not Esau (9:10–13). Here Paul explains, “Before the twins were born or had done anything good or bad—in order that God’s purpose in election might stand: not by works but by him who calls” (9:11–12). In support of this conclusion, Paul quotes from Mal. 1:2–3: “Just as it is written: ‘Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated’ ” (9:13). The bottom line, according to Paul, is not one’s ancestry at all, but God’s own choice. God tells Moses in Exod. 33:19, “I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion” (quoted in Rom. 9:15). Paul gives his summary of election: “It does not, therefore, depend on human desire or effort, but on God’s mercy” (9:16). He rests his case with the classic OT illustration of God’s hardening of Pharaoh (9:17) before concluding, “Therefore God has mercy on whom he wants to have mercy, and he hardens whom he wants to harden” (9:18).

Romans 9 is not an isolated passage of Scripture. The apostle John says much the same of Jesus’ ministry, and how salvation is specifically to all “those who believed in his name”; to them “he gave the right to become children of God—children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God” (John 1:12–13). The last part of this passage is key: salvation ultimately depends not upon “natural descent” or one’s human ancestry (including whether one is Jewish or not), nor upon “human decision” (including any and all acts of the human will), nor upon a “husband’s will” (a more difficult expression that probably refers to the decisions of others in the family), but solely and ultimately only on being “born of God.”

Hardening of Hearts and the Nonelect

Certainly, there is a mystery in all of this. There is no easy way to understand the negative process of the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart or to explain the mechanics of the positive process of election. Scripture often describes God himself as the one who has hardened the hearts of various individuals. In Exod. 4:21, for example, God says to Moses, “I will harden [Pharaoh’s] heart so that he will not let the people go.” Other times, Scripture is less clear and simply tells us that “Pharaoh’s heart became hard” (Exod. 7:13). Then there are still other times when Pharaoh himself is described as being actively involved in this process of hardening his own heart, such as “when Pharaoh saw that there was relief, he hardened his heart and would not listen to Moses and Aaron” (Exod. 8:15). Undoubtedly, the best way to understand this is to see a negative response such as the hardening of a person’s heart as a combination of the active will of fallen human beings and the mysterious workings of a sovereign God. In a similar way, both salvation and spiritual growth are other spiritual realities that also involve the mysterious combination of God’s direct involvement in people’s lives and the necessity of their own human response. Paul captures this tension in Phil. 2:12–13: “Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose.”

There is also the question of the nonelect, sometimes put in terms of “reprobation” or “double predestination.” If God is actively involved in the positive act of bringing human beings into a proper relationship with himself in salvation, is he actively involved equally in choosing those who will never respond in faith and will suffer an eternity of judgment apart from him? Again, Christians are divided, and simplistic overgeneralizations do little to advance our understanding of this topic. Those who give precedence to God’s sovereignty in their understanding of the process of salvation usually see a greater involvement of God in the decisions of those who do not respond in faith; those who emphasize human involvement in salvation will also emphasize human decision in those who do not respond.

Those who emphasize God’s sovereignty in this mystery of the faith lean toward the Calvinistic or Reformed end of the scale. They tend also to emphasize the total depravity of humanity: the notion not that people are as bad as they can possibly be, but simply that sin has tainted every area of the mind, will, and emotions, making a positive turning to God, apart from God’s grace, humanly impossible. They also emphasize the definite atonement, the doctrine that Christ died specifically for the elect. On the other hand, those who emphasize human involvement, often called “Arminians,” tend to emphasize the importance of human free will in order to create a sense of responsibility for one’s decisions. They also emphasize an unlimited atonement, the doctrine that Christ died potentially for anyone and everyone.

Summary

The proper balance in Scripture seems to involve both God’s sovereignty and human involvement. Peter captures some of this need for balance: “Therefore, my brothers and sisters, make every effort to confirm your calling and election. For if you do these things, you will never stumble” (2 Pet. 1:10). Election is ultimately God’s work, but at the same time there is a human involvement in it. Charles Spurgeon’s illustration seems appropriate here. Human will and predestination are like the two rails on a railroad track: everywhere we look they are separate and distinct and thus irreconcilable; yet it is only off in the distance (really in the mind of God himself) that these two complementary truths come together in their perfect resolution. There is no question that “elect” and “election” are biblical terms; the key question is how to understand this difficult topic and to work out all the logical implications in terms of sharing the gospel with others in a meaningful and appropriate manner.

Elect

The choice or selection of a person or group, especially God’s determination of who will be saved.

Terminology

Election and Salvation

Hardening of Hearts and the Nonelect

Summary

Election

The choice or selection of a person or group, especially God’s determination of who will be saved.

Terminology

Election and Salvation

Hardening of Hearts and the Nonelect

Summary

Eternal Life

Eternal life usually is mentioned in reference to human life, where it means unending life in the body, free from death. The expression, though most common in the NT, is drawn from the OT. The book of Daniel says that many who “sleep in the dust of the earth will awake: some to everlasting life, others to shame and everlasting contempt” (12:2). This yearning for eternal life is also expressed in Genesis, where those who eat of the “tree of life” will “live forever” (3:22). In Deuteronomy, God likewise declares, “I live forever” (32:40). Among the DSS, 4Q418 (frag. 69) and 1QS (4:7), both of which predate the NT, also refer to everlasting life.

The NT expression “eternal life” may seem to have a different meaning than the OT expression “everlasting life.” Any such appearance arises only in translation to English, for the underlying Greek words in the NT have the same meaning as the underlying Hebrew words in the OT. The words are already treated synonymously by the LXX, an ancient translation of the Hebrew Bible into Greek (predating the NT).

The English word “eternal” may refer to eternity past and future, but in biblical usage that word does not generally refer to eternity past. This is evident where the NT mentions “eternal fire” (Matt. 18:8) and “eternal punishment” (Matt. 25:46). It is also indicated where eternal life is seen as a future reward for the righteous (Dan. 12:2; Luke 18:30; Rom. 2:7; Gal. 6:8; Titus 1:2; 1 John 2:25).

That life in the body is included in the NT concept of eternal life is evident from several considerations. Jesus says of everyone who believes in him, “I will raise them up at the last day” (John 6:40). The bodily nature of everlasting life is indicated by Jesus’ own resurrection, for his tomb was left empty. Jesus says after his own resurrection that a spirit “does not have flesh and bones, as you see I have” (Luke 24:39). The apostle Paul even writes that without the resurrection the Christian faith is invalidated (1 Cor. 15:12–19). When Paul says that “flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God,” he does not mean that resurrection is of the human spirit, but rather that perishable flesh and blood must first be made immortal (1 Cor. 15:50–54; 2 Cor. 5:4).

The prospect of eternal life is often contrasted with death and punishment, just as the Bible more generally contrasts the prospect of life with death and lawless behavior. In Gen. 3, the sin of Adam and Eve shows that people turn from God out of self-interest, so everlasting life is not given to them. Much later, the people of Israel are warned that they will suffer death if they break faith with the true God to follow other gods (Lev. 26; Deut. 28; 30:15–20). Later still, the book of Daniel warns plainly that resurrection is to everlasting life or to everlasting contempt (12:1–3). The NT likewise, drawing at times from the Hebrew prophets (e.g., Isa. 66:22–24), contrasts the prospect of eternal life with the prospect of punishment for doing evil (Matt. 25:31–46; John 5:28–29; Rom. 6:23; Gal. 6:8; Rev. 20:10–15; 22:1–6).

Just as eternal life is contrasted with death, eternal life is sometimes referred to more fundamentally and simply as “life” (e.g., Matt. 19:17; Acts 11:18; 1 John 3:14). All life comes from God, through his divine word (Gen. 1; Deut. 30:20; John 1:1–4). The NT says that God gave his Son the power to give eternal life, since the Son does only what God the Father commands (John 5:19–30; 6:57–58).

The NT promises eternal life to all who believe (trust) in God’s Son (John 3:16; 3:36; 6:40; 11:25–26; 20:31; 1 John 5:13). To believe in God’s Son is to believe that God sent Jesus (John 17:8), to listen to Jesus’ message from God and so believe in God (5:24; 12:44), and to believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Messiah (20:31).

The belief in God and Jesus that secures eternal life is not mere mental assent, but rather is expressed in a life that turns from evil. Those who will receive eternal life are characterized by love rather than by hatred and murder (John 5:29; 1 John 3:14–15). Only the righteous will enter into eternal life, and they are marked by their care for Jesus’ brothers and sisters: feeding the hungry and clothing the poor (Matt. 25:31–46). They do not live for themselves, nor do they give free rein to all human desires, but instead they are led by, and walk in accordance with, the Spirit of God (John 12:25; Gal. 5:16–21; 6:8).

Family

Patriarchal Structures

Aristotelian Household Codes

Marriage and Divorce

Children, Parenting, and Education

Abortion commonly took place in the Greco-Roman world. Women therefore had to be encouraged to continue in their pregnancies (1 Tim. 2:15).

Children were of low social status in society. Infant mortality was high. An estimated 60 percent of the children in the first-century Mediterranean society were dead by the age of sixteen.

Family as an Analogy

First Letter of John

First John is a letter written to reassure Christians of the security of their salvation in Christ. The letter contrasts the truth of the original gospel taught by the author with the heretical doctrines of traveling teachers who sought to instill doubt and fear in the churches. The incarnation takes center stage as the climactic confession of Christianity (1 John 4:2–3). Christian love flows out of God’s ultimate example of love in the atoning death of Christ.

Genre

First John is commonly referred to as a letter, but it bears none of the traditional marks of a Greco-Roman letter. The author does not introduce himself, the recipients are not named, there is no opening greeting or wish for health, and there are no closing salutations. Some have suggested that 1 John is a universal tract, but the content is too specific and polemical. First John is probably a circular letter intended for general distribution among the churches associated with the author.

Main Themes

First John repeats many of the same themes as the Gospel of John. The historical reality of the incarnation of Christ is a central theme in 1 John (1:1–3). The incarnation is rooted in history and cannot be divorced from that foundational fact. Christ’s “atoning sacrifice” is another foundational fact of Christian belief; however, it is not simply that Christ died a sacrificial death, but that he did so “for our sins” (2:2; 4:10). The author explains the meaning of the atonement to help build the salvation confidence of the struggling Christians. In a number of places the author places special stress on the forgiveness of sins that comes through Jesus’ blood. His death “purifies us from all sin” (1:7). He came to take away sin and to destroy the work of the devil (3:5, 8).

Love is another resounding theme. Christians are to love one another in concrete ways, reflecting the sacrificial love of Christ (2:16–18). Love is rooted in God and ultimately demonstrated at the cross (4:9). We will never find what love means if we start from the human end. We must start from the cross, where we see the love of God (4:10). The author reminds his readers that they have the Holy Spirit and have no need for further instruction by the false teachers (2:20–21, 26–27). The Spirit of God is the Spirit of truth, who bears witness that Jesus is Christ in the flesh (4:2, 6). Competing spirits should be tested and rejected as “antichrist” if they fail to confess Christ (4:3).

First John is full of family imagery. The author repeatedly addresses his readers as “children,” “brothers,” and “beloved.” Being “born of God” is the hallmark of those who are “children of God” (2:23; 3:1–3, 9–10). Children of God love one another and do what is right (3:10–11). Eternal life is a present possession that believers can be assured of (5:13). Although the false teachers sow seeds of doubt, the author seeks to uproot them. Salvation is not for those who are spiritually enlightened but for all whose faith is in the blood of Christ.

Literary Features

One of the author’s favorite literary features is the repetition of key words. The word “love” appears over fifty times in 1 John. Love is the bedrock of the Christian faith. The verb “to know” appears approximately forty times in 1 John. The author reassures his readers of their salvation by repeating what they already “know.” They “know” God and should not fear the false teachers’ so-called knowledge. The verb “to remain” appears twenty-four times. God, God’s word, Christ, truth, life, love, and the Holy Spirit all remain in believers. They, in turn, should remain in God, Christ, and the light. In contrast, unbelievers remain in death (3:14). First John also has strong dualistic contrasts: light/dark, love/hate, truth/falsehood (1–2; 4:6). The dualism of 1 John is similar to that found in the DSS, but its Christian character gives it a unique christocentric emphasis.

Authorship

First John and the Gospel of John share common vocabulary, writing style, and many interlocking themes that point to a common author. The opening verses of 1 John show a close affinity with the beginning of the Gospel (John 1:1; 1 John 1:1). Also, the purpose statements of both the Gospel and 1 John concern faith in Christ and receiving eternal life (John 20:31; 1 John 5:13). Some scholars believe the apostle John is the author, but this is impossible to prove from the text itself, since the author never mentions his name. Church fathers such as Irenaeus, Clement of Alexandria, and Tertullian attributed 1 John to the apostle. An alternative theory is that the three letters were written by another John, known as John “the elder” (2 John 1; 3 John 1). The church historian Eusebius thought that this elder John rather than the apostle John was the author of the Johannine Letters. John the elder is thought to have lived in Ephesus at about the same time as John the apostle. Yet there is no indisputable proof that this person existed or that he wrote anything to churches in the area. Nevertheless, there is nothing in 1 John that hinges on the exact identity of the author. He seems to be well advanced in years and regards the church members as his “children” (2:1, 18, 28; 3:7, 18; 4:4; 5:21) and “friends” (3:2, 21; 4:1, 7, 11). He has a close relationship with them and shows a genuine pastoral concern for their well-being. He claims to be an eyewitness of Jesus, the Word of life (1:1–3).

Audience, Life Setting, and Date

Audience and date. The audience is a group of churches in fellowship with the author’s church. This group of churches is often referred to as the Johannine Community, a community represented by the Johannine literature of the NT (Gospel of John, 1–3 John, Revelation). Whether this community functioned formally as such is unclear, but there seems to be a close-knit network of churches associated with the author. Tradition places these churches in and around Ephesus at the end of the first century. Since John’s Gospel was written sometime in the years AD 85–95, 1 John was written probably not long afterward to churches in and around Ephesus.

Life setting. The exact life setting behind 1 John is uncertain, but the churches apparently were endangered by itinerant false teachers intent on distorting the gospel preached by the author. Their teachings may have stemmed from a misinterpretation of John’s Gospel, but this is difficult to prove. They were in fellowship with the author at one time but broke away and charted their own deceptive direction (1 John 2:18–19, 26). The audience had already heard the message of the gospel, including its command to love, and this had already impacted their lives (2:8). They already knew the truth of the gospel (2:21), but the false teachers began to sow seeds of doubt. This explains the purpose statement of 1 John: “I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God so that you may know that you have eternal life” (5:13). The author’s purpose was not to correct the heretics, for the letter was not written to them, but to show his readers that the false teachers’ claims were indeed false.

The identity of the false teachers is unknown, but their teachings reflected seeds of gnosticism and docetism and may have included some Jewish influences. The more-advanced forms of gnosticism and docetism that threatened the church in the second century were not yet fully developed by the time of John, but similar ideas were already beginning to infiltrate the church. Gnostics taught a radical division between flesh and spirit. Flesh and matter were bad, but spirit was good. Because of this false premise, they may have misinterpreted Jesus’ words in John’s Gospel: “Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit” (John 3:6). A gnostic or a docetic who was “born from above” (see John 3:3 NIV mg.) was resurrected and became “otherworldly” and truly “spiritual.” Flesh was discarded as worthless and evil. Although this was only one aspect of the false teaching, it was enough to threaten the very core of the gospel of Christ in the flesh as well as a bodily resurrection. For the false teachers, Jesus only seemed to have a genuine body of flesh and to suffer and die (docetism), since flesh was evil by nature (gnosticism). This notion threatened the very heart of the Christian gospel.

Among the debated issues were the identity of Christ, the significance of his atoning death, the nature of salvation, and the shape of Christian discipleship. The heretics claimed to be without sin (1 John 1:8–2:2), continued to sin (3:6, 8, 10), disobeyed God’s commands (1:6–7; 2:4–6; 5:2–3), did not love their brothers and sisters in Christ yet claimed to love God (2:7–11; 3:10–18, 23; 4:7–11, 20–21), and loved the world (2:15–17; 4:4–6; 5:19). They erred regarding the nature and work of Christ. They denied that Jesus was the Christ and, by doing so, denied God as well (2:22; 5:1). By denying Jesus, they did not remain in God (4:15; 5:5, 10, 13). They rejected the historical fact that Christ came in the flesh (4:3). They also rejected the atonement of Christ (2:2; 3:5; 4:10; 5:6). Those who threatened the church may have valued the heavenly and spiritual realm and despised physical matter in such a way that it led them to place all their emphasis on the heavenly Christ rather than the human Jesus, and on their own “spiritual” status as the children of God rather than their day-to-day actions. They were committed to a fundamentally different understanding of the Christian faith.

The heretics were not content to keep their ideas to themselves, so they circulated among the churches in order to spread their beliefs. They sought to win people over to their understanding of things (2:26; 4:1–3). This led to confusion among the believers who remained faithful to the gospel as it was proclaimed at the beginning, the gospel that had come from eyewitnesses such as the author. As a result, these Christians doubted their salvation, doubted that they really knew God and Christ, and doubted that they were experiencing eternal life. Clearly, the author viewed the teachings and practices of the false teachers as a threat to the proper understanding of truth and to the well-being of his readers.

Outline

I. Prologue: The Incarnate Word of Life (1:1–4)

II. Walking in the Light (1:5–2:2)

III. Keeping His Commands (2:3–11)

IV. Do Not Love the World (2:12–17)

V. A Warning against Antichrists (2:18–27)

VI. The Hope of God’s Children (2:28–3:3)

VII. Born of God (3:4–10)

VIII. Love One Another (3:11–18)

IX. Assurance and Obedience (3:19–24)

X. The Spirits of Truth and Falsehood (4:1–6)

XI. The Priority of God’s Love (4:7–12)

XII. Christian Love (4:13–5:4)

XIII. The True Faith Confirmed (5:5–12)

XIV. Concluding Remarks (5:13–21)

Forerunner

A soldier who goes ahead of the main army as a scout, or a herald who travels ahead of a political delegation to announce the arrival in a city of an important figure such as a king. In the apocryphal book Wisdom of Solomon, “forerunner” is used to describe ravaging wasps that God sends ahead of Israel’s army as it invades to conquer the promised land (Wis. 12:8).

The only instance of “forerunner” in the NT is Heb. 6:20. Here the word is used to describe Jesus Christ’s entrance into the heavenly holy of holies by virtue of his sacrificial death. As a forerunner, Jesus enters into the fullness of God’s presence on behalf of everyone who trusts in him.

Although the specific word is not used, the concept of a forerunner is seen clearly in the ministry of John the Baptist. The OT prophets spoke of a messenger (Mal. 3:1; cf. 4:5–6) and herald (Isa. 40:3–9) who would come announcing salvation and the establishment of God’s kingdom on earth prior to the coming of the Messiah. The NT clearly indicates that John the Baptist is this herald (Matt. 3:1–12; 11:10; Mark 1:2–8; Luke 1:76; 3:1–18; see also John 1:6–8, 19–34). Using the language of the prophets, the Gospels describe John’s ministry as one of preparation for the ministry of Jesus Christ, a preparation focused primarily on personal and corporate repentance. John’s vivid preaching and effective ministry led to him being mistaken for the Messiah (Luke 3:15–16). John makes it clear that he is simply the forerunner (John 1:20, 23), the one who comes to “prepare the way for the Lord” (Isa. 40:3; cf. Mal. 3:1), the Lord who himself will usher in God’s kingdom in its fullness.

Hermetic Literature

Writings associated with the Greco-Egyptian deity Hermes Trismegistos, who was a combination of Hermes (the Greek god of eloquence and science) and Thot, an Egyptian moon god and scribe of the gods, whose title, meaning “the thrice greatest,” was added to the name. The Corpus hermeticum consists of seventeen philosophical and theological tractates, mostly ascribed to the god himself, who often is quoted instructing his son. These were probably first written in Greek from the second to fifth centuries AD. The earliest known manuscript contains tractates 1–14 and is probably from the eleventh century AD. Numerous references to and citations of lost Hermetic works are found in the church fathers, and other important finds come from Nag Hammadi. The Corpus hermeticum was once thought to predate Plato but now is seen as a later development from Platonic, Stoic, Neo-Pythagorean, and some Jewish ideas. The literature is fairly abstract overall, and questions remain as to whether the movement existed primarily as a school of thought or also included its own cultic community. Although no literary dependency is evident, the texts are relevant for NT studies because they illuminate the cultural milieu surrounding early church history and the composition of the NT.

The literature has affinities with Pauline and Johannine literature as well as with gnostic works. Regarding shared religious expression with the NT, God is called “light and life” (Corp. herm. 1.12; 13.18–19; cf. John 1:4, 9), and the idea of rebirth (palingenesia) appears (Corp. herm. 13; cf. John 3:3; Titus 3:5; 1 Pet. 1:23), as do the ideas of individual salvation and baptism. But death does not come because of sin (Corp. herm. 1.20; cf. Rom. 5:12), and the idea of incarnation is rejected (Corp. herm. 4.9). Similarities with cosmological ideas found in gnostic literature also appear: dualism between spirit and matter, creation of the material world as a tragic mistake, the physical body as evil, and salvation from the empirical world via knowledge (gnōsis).

Household

Patriarchal Structures

Aristotelian Household Codes

Marriage and Divorce

Children, Parenting, and Education

Abortion commonly took place in the Greco-Roman world. Women therefore had to be encouraged to continue in their pregnancies (1 Tim. 2:15).

Children were of low social status in society. Infant mortality was high. An estimated 60 percent of the children in the first-century Mediterranean society were dead by the age of sixteen.

Family as an Analogy

Humiliation of Christ

A transliteration of a Greek word, kenōsis, meaning “emptying.” “Kenosis” has come to characterize a hymnlike unit in Paul’s letter to the Philippians (2:5–11), in which the apostle says Christ Jesus “emptied himself” (v. 7 NASB, NET, NRSV). Some have interpreted this to mean that Jesus surrendered certain or all of his divine attributes at the incarnation (cf. John 1:14). Others claim that these attributes continued in a “potential” reality. But it is probably best to look at the immediate context for the significance.

Paul presumes that the self-emptying of Christ is to some degree a communicable practice: we are to meditate on how to empty ourselves like Christ (Phil. 2:5). There were two extreme positions of status in the Roman world: Caesar, who was worshiped as a god, and the slave, who could be crucified at the whim of the master. Jesus, while being much greater than the former, willingly took on the status of the latter, humbling himself to the point of dying on a cross (Phil. 2:8). He put God’s interest—our salvation—before his own. Paul’s readers would have made an immediate comparison with the current emperor, Nero, who gladly embraced his own deification and lived only for the gratification of his own pleasure. But the desire to become like God goes back to the garden of Eden (Gen. 3:5). According to Jewish and Christian tradition, this vaulting ambition led to Satan’s fall. However, the Son did not become something else but rather emptied himself of the form or appearance of God. In other words, people did not know that Jesus was God by looking at him (cf. Isa. 53:2). But Peter, James, and John were allowed to see the glorified nature of the Son at the transfiguration (Matt. 17:1–9 pars.; see also John 1:14; 2 Pet. 1:16–21).

Paul’s hymnic reflection ends with the Father placing Jesus over all authority, at the right hand of his throne in heaven (Phil. 2:9–11; see also Eph. 1:20–21). Although people important by worldly standards ignored Jesus during his ministry, dismissing him as a Jewish peasant in a dusty corner of the Roman Empire, the apostle maintains that one day they will bow before Jesus’ glory. The kenosis is intended to exhort Christians to imitate the humility of Christ, putting the needs of others before themselves, so that they might also participate in his glory (see Eph. 2:1–20).

Ignorance

At creation, God made human beings to depend on him to reveal his purposes, so that their response to life would always involve trust in, and loving obedience to, his counsel. The entrance of sin created a barrier between people and God. Fallen humanity, in its autonomy, seeks to understand the world apart from knowledge of God (1 Cor. 2:14).

In Scripture, ignorance frequently refers to one’s inability to understand who God is or one’s true identity and purpose (Eph. 4:18). In ignorance, humanity disregards God’s revelation (Rom. 1:22–25). The darkened, idolatrous heart is the source of human blindness (Jer. 17:9; Ezek. 14:2–3). Satan holds people captive in blindness (2 Cor. 4:4). God revealed himself through prophetic messengers, but throughout the OT, God’s people disregarded their message. Although God raised up judges to lead his people, they repeatedly reverted to idolatry: “In those days Israel had no king; everyone did as they saw fit” (Judg. 21:25).

Jesus is the true light, which gives light to every person (John 1:9). Yet people loved darkness and would not come into the light for fear that their deeds would be exposed (John 3:20). However, through the Word, the Spirit can transform the hearts of people such as Paul, who formerly opposed Christ and his church in ignorance and unbelief (1 Tim. 1:13).

Ignorance, however, does not always entail sin. Our finitude implies that our knowledge will always be limited. God has appointed teachers to facilitate our growth in understanding (Eph. 4:11–12).

Immateriality

The nonphysical or spiritual aspect of reality. God is an immaterial (nonphysical) spirit being (John 1:18; 4:24; Acts 17:24; 2 Cor. 3:17) who created other nonphysical beings (i.e., angels and demons) but made humans as creatures with both physical and nonphysical aspects (Matt. 10:28; Luke 12:4–5; 2 Cor. 5:1–10; Phil. 1:21–24). Jesus is the ultimate combination of immaterial and material (John 1:14; Col. 1:15–20).

John the Baptist

A Jewish prophet at the time of Jesus, he was the son of priestly parents (Zechariah and Elizabeth), executed by Herod Antipas, and identified as “John” (a common Jewish name), often with the title “the Baptist” or “the Baptizer,” the latter possibly being the older title.

Our primary sources on John the Baptist are the canonical Gospels, Josephus (Ant. 18.116–19), and Acts. Both Jewish and Christian sources note John’s message of the kingdom, call to baptism, and popularity. Josephus and the Gospels can speak of him without introduction. In the Gospels, only Jesus is a more prominent character. It is possible that the typical peasant was more familiar with John than with Jesus, at least until after Pentecost.

The Gospels, particularly Luke, parallel the stories of John and Jesus. Both had an annunciation, a miraculous birth accompanied by praise, and a martyr’s death. Both gathered disciples, announced the kingdom, denounced the Jewish leadership, and practiced baptism. It is easy to see how some on the periphery confused the characters (Mark 8:28).

Ministry

Dressed in a prophet’s garment of camel’s hair (Matt. 3:4; cf. 2 Kings 1:8; Zech. 13:4), the Baptist is noted for emerging from the wilderness and preaching near the Jordan. He called all listeners to repent to prepare Israel for the coming covenant of the Spirit. He and his message were well known, disconcerting Jerusalem’s powerful elite (Mark 11:32) and enthralling the masses (Matt. 3:5–6).

John the Baptist unwaveringly maintained that he was sent to introduce the Son (or Chosen One) of God, who would baptize with the Holy Spirit (John 1:33–34; cf. Matt. 3:11–12 pars.). This one was not named, but the Baptist was told how he would know him: “The man on whom you see the Spirit come down and remain is the one” (John 1:33). Thus, the Baptist could claim, “I myself did not know him” (John 1:31), more likely meaning that the Baptist did not know Jesus was the one until the Spirit descended on him (1:32). It is less likely that John meant that he had not met his cousin previously (Luke 1:39–45). Jesus accepts (and validates) the Baptist’s proclamation both at the beginning of his ministry (Mark 1:9) and again later (Luke 16:16; John 5:35; 10:41).

After his imprisonment, the Baptist seems less certain of his earlier identification of Jesus as the coming one (Matt. 11:2–3). It should also be noted that John had not disbanded his disciples. After his death, some continued to preach his baptism of repentance as far away as in Ephesus (Acts 18:24–26; 19:1–7). Similarly, Jesus’ last description of the Baptist is ambiguous. It is guarded but still complimentary (John 5:32–36; 10:41) and even lofty: “Among those born of women there has not arisen anyone greater than John the Baptist”; however, Jesus’ next statement could be interpreted to mean that the Baptist was not yet part of the coming kingdom: “Yet whoever is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he” (Matt. 11:11). Like everyone else, John was confused by Jesus’ preaching ministry. Jesus was not acting like the Messiah they were expecting (Luke 7:18–20). The Gospels offer no final verdict on the Baptist.

Message

Like Isaiah, the Baptist’s message of restoration of the kingdom meant comfort and hope for those preparing for its arrival (Isa. 40; Mark 1:2–6) and judgment for those unprepared (Isa. 41; Matt. 3:7–10; Luke 3:7–9). The return of the kingdom was by a new covenant, marked by the Spirit (Mark 1:2–8). Cleansing with water is connected to replacing the old covenant (etched in stone) with the new (imbedded in hearts with the Spirit) by the prophets (Ezek. 36:24–28; Jer. 31), by the Baptist (John 1:31–33), by Jesus (John 3:5), and by early Christians (2 Cor. 3; Heb. 9–10). Preparing (Matt. 3:3) meant repenting and living in piety and justice as a member of the kingdom (Luke 3:10–14). This commitment of renewed faithfulness was marked by one’s own (ethical) cleansing, symbolized in baptism. While ritual lustrations were somewhat common for initiation or membership in a group, John the Baptist called all who would devote themselves to God to repent, confess their sins, and be baptized (Mark 1:4–5).

The Synoptic Gospels portray Jesus and John as allies in announcing the kingdom. It has been argued that the Fourth Gospel has an anti-Baptist polemic. Because of historical elements (in Ephesus?), it may be more accurate to say that the Fourth Gospel strives to clarify the Baptist’s place in salvation history. He is subordinate to Jesus by divine design (John 1–5) and by deed (John 10:41). He was the Elijah who was to come before the Christ (Matt. 11:14).

Kenosis

Labor

God the Worker

A biblical theology of work starts with God as the creator of all things. In the OT, the verb bara’ (“to create”) is used only with God as subject. The first verb in the Bible (Gen. 1:1), it occurs also in many other texts that describe God accomplishing what only God can do. Other terms such as yatsar (“to form, fashion”) and ’asah (“to make, do”) are used numerous times throughout the OT with either God or humans as subjects.

These three terms reinforce the portrayal of God as worker in Gen. 1–2 (cf. Isa. 45:7). God creates light and darkness; sky and earth; sun, moon, and stars; land and sea; plant and animal life; and humankind—in sum, all that is. He forms the “man” (Heb. ’adam) from the dust of the ground, bringing him to life by breathing into him the breath of life.

Elsewhere in the OT God is said to build, build up, or rebuild/restore (Heb. banah [e.g., Pss. 102:16; 147:2; Jer. 24:6; Amos 9:11]). Interestingly, God takes a rib from the man, which he then makes (lit., “builds into” [Heb. banah + le]) a woman (Gen. 2:22). He founds (Heb. kun) the earth (Isa. 45:18) and stretches out (Heb. natah) the heavens (Zech. 12:1). Further, wisdom is God’s “craftsman” (Heb. ’amon), taking part in the world’s creation (Prov. 8:30). The NT reveals Christ as the one through whom God creates all things (John 1:1–3; Col. 1:16). This brief sketch suggests the range of ways in which God’s work is described.

Human Labor

Ideally, work is performed as service to God (Col. 3:17, 22–24). Work is one way we express the divine image. God’s creation mandate to fill, subdue, and rule the earth implies work (Gen. 1:26–28), and God places the man in the garden “to work it and take care of it” (Gen. 2:15). The importance of work for human dignity as well as survival undergirds the laws of gleaning that make provision for the poor to gather their own food (e.g., Deut. 24:19–22). The expansion of human technologies and occupations (mela’kah [see Exod. 12:16]) reflects that dignity and God’s own diverse workmanship. Job 28 celebrates human industry and achievement while subordinating all to the prevailing value of wisdom, rooted in “the fear of the Lord.” Given the indispensable role of work within the limits of human life, diligence is commended (Eccles. 3:9–10), idleness condemned (Prov. 10:4; 12:24; 21:5; 2 Thess. 3:6–10). Work is essentially God’s good gift to us in creation.

But work now has negative aspects. In response to Adam’s sin, God curses the ground, introducing “painful toil” into the work cycle (Gen. 3:17–19; 5:29). We now eke out our living by hardship, finding frustration instead of bounty—a lifelong reminder that we are made of dust and will return to dust. The book of Ecclesiastes echoes this note of futility and raises sharp questions about the lasting value of human labor (1:2–3, 14; 2:4–11, 17–23; 3:9; 4:4–6; 8:16–17). Sin and death haunt the unfolding occupations in Gen. 4, and the episode of the tower of Babel in Gen. 11 signals God’s judgment on human pretension (cf. James 4:13–16). Excessive toil (workaholism) is a pitfall, not a virtue, for it expresses reliance on self rather than on God, who builds, protects, and gives rest (Ps. 127:1–2). Oppressive, unjust working conditions are cause for lament, and they incur God’s judgment (Exod. 5:6–19; Prov. 14:31; James 5:4–6).

Thus, Israel’s labor policy is to reflect God’s covenant faithfulness, generosity, and concern for the vulnerable. Moses’ law places limits on employers/masters to protect employees, slaves, and foreign workers from exploitation. The primary limit is God’s command that Israel keep the Sabbath holy by a complete cessation of labor (Exod. 20:8–11; Deut. 5:12–15). This move prioritizes God’s covenant above human labor and sets a rhythm of work and rest. Exodus grounds the Sabbath in God’s rest from his work of creation on the seventh day. Deuteronomy ties it to Israel’s history of slavery in Egypt and deliverance by God; by keeping the Sabbath, Israel shows gratitude to God and guards against replicating Egypt’s oppressive policies.

Exodus 31–32 portrays work in its best and worst lights. The proper interplay of work and rest is seen in chapter 31, which narrates the divinely empowered work on the tabernacle, followed by a strong reminder to keep the Sabbath as a “sign” between God and Israel. In contrast, chapter 32 portrays artisanship put to the worst use, the making of a golden idol. Aaron fashions gold with a tool and makes the calf image, but later he tells Moses, “I threw [their gold jewelry] into the fire, and out came this calf!” (32:24). This remark anticipates the prophets’ later mockery of idol-makers (e.g., Isa. 44:9–20) and raises the issue of personal responsibility for the outcome of one’s labor: Aaron seeks to avoid being implicated in Israel’s idolatry by concealing his own role in the project.

Public labor issues increase in complexity when Israel adopts human kingship and engages in international trade (e.g., 1 Sam. 8; 1 Kings 9:15–23). Babylon deals a decisive blow to Judah’s statehood by deporting leaders and skilled workers. Many of these establish such viable, productive new lives in Babylon that when Cyrus later allows the exiled Judeans to return, they choose to remain.

The NT assumes the legitimacy of work and adopts the OT’s view that within proper limits work is a good gift of God. Jesus, however, has come to do his Father’s “work” (John 5:16–18), which entails calling some people away from their normal occupations to follow him, as well as a new approach to Sabbath observance (Mark 2:21–27; 3:4). These moves signal the urgency and newness of the kingdom of God. Consequently, the apostles are “co-workers in God’s service” (1 Cor. 3:9), and Christians are “God’s handiwork” (Eph. 2:10). In light of the resurrection, we offer to God work (Gk. ergon) and labor (Gk. kopos), not in futility but in hope (1 Cor. 15:58; cf. Rev. 14:13).

Lamp

Lampstand

Logos

A Greek term meaning “word,” a title given to Jesus Christ that indicates his preexistent divine nature and his identity as the climactic revelation of God (John 1:1, 14; 1 John 1:1; Rev. 19:13).

Philosophical and Old Testament Backgrounds

The background of the Logos concept is complex. It has roots in both Greek philosophy (Stoicism) and the OT. Both of these likely influence to some degree the NT use of the term, but neither is decisive. The NT goes its own way in defining the Logos. The Logos is adapted to fit the unique NT context and redefined in a historical person, Jesus of Nazareth.

In Stoic thought, Logos was Reason, the impersonal rational principle governing the universe. Stoicism understood Logos as the omnipresent force used by God to create and sustain the world. Logos held the intricate workings of the world together. Philo, a Hellenistic Jewish philosopher, taught that the Logos was the ideal, primal human being from whom all other human beings derived.

Although the Stoic background of the Logos likely bears at least some influence on the NT use, the OT probably has a more direct influence. The Logos in the OT is closely associated with the Wisdom tradition (Prov. 8). Wisdom is personified as the “master worker” at God’s side during creation (8:30 NRSV). Similarly, Wisdom was “established from everlasting, from the beginning, before there was ever an earth” (8:23 NKJV). Wisdom, like the NT Logos, claims preexistence and participation in God’s creative activity.

The OT depiction of God’s Word as the agent of creation is perhaps an even more direct influence (Gen. 1). The phrase “In the beginning” (John 1:1) clearly echoes the introduction of the creation account (Gen. 1:1). The repeated phrase “And God said” in Gen. 1 illustrates how God is so powerful that he creates simply by speaking creation into existence. God’s Word is the powerful agent of creation (Ps. 33:6). In summary, God’s Wisdom and Word are both active agents in creation.

God’s Word is largely an impersonal force in Gen. 1, but it develops more personal characteristics in Isa. 55:9–11. God’s personified Word is sent by God in order to accomplish a specific divine purpose that will not fail (v. 11). It also returns to God, who sent it, after accomplishing its mission (v. 11). God’s Word functions as his personal and effective speech as it reveals God’s perfect will. Like Wisdom, God’s Word is personified and reveals God’s will to humanity, accomplishing its divinely ordained purpose. The Word of God as exemplified in Isa. 55 probably has the most direct influence on the NT use of the Logos.

New Testament Usage

Scholars debate which of the aforementioned concepts is the primary influence for the NT use of the Logos. Perhaps each bears at least some degree of influence, but more importantly, each is adapted and altered to fit the unique christological context of the NT. The NT goes its own way in defining the Logos; it is defined in the historical flesh-and-blood person of Jesus of Nazareth (John 1:14; 1 John 1:1; Rev. 19:13).

What is an impersonal force in Stoicism and the OT becomes profoundly personal in the NT. Similar to Stoic Reason, all creation is created by and through the Logos (John 1:3) and is even held together by him (Col. 1:16–17). But unlike Stoic Reason, the NT Logos is no abstract metaphysical principle but rather the historic person Jesus Christ. And unlike personified Wisdom, which was created by God (Prov. 8:22–25), the NT Logos exists eternally as God and was “with” God in the beginning (John 1:1–2). Where Wisdom is present with God and is one of his attributes, the NT Logos is God as the Second Person of the Godhead. Further, the Word of God in the Genesis creation narrative is largely an impersonal force by which God creates the universe, whereas Jesus is the personal agent of creation (John 1:3; Col. 1:16–17).

Finally, although Isaiah’s Word of God is God’s effective speech that leads to action and accomplishes its purpose, it remains impersonal. The NT language is strikingly similar to Isaiah’s Word of God, as Jesus is “sent” by the Father to do his will (John 4:34) and completes the work that God has given him to do (John 17:4). But while the Word of God in Isaiah remains a personification, the NT Logos refers to an actual historical person, the incarnate Lord Jesus Christ. The Word takes on flesh-and-blood humanity in Jesus and is the uniquely personal revelatory message of God. Jesus preached the Word with his mouth, enacted the Word with his actions, and embodied the Word in his person. “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” (John 1:14).

Nativity of Christ

The founder of what became known as the movement of Jesus followers or Christianity. For Christian believers, Jesus Christ embodies the personal and supernatural intervention of God in human history.

Introduction

Jesus’ Life

The Synoptics present Jesus’ early Galilean ministry as successful. No challenge or ministry need superseded Jesus’ authority or ability: he calmed a storm (Mark 4:35–39), exorcized many demons (Mark 5:1–13), raised the dead (Mark 5:35–42), fed five thousand (Mark 6:30–44), and walked on water (Mark 6:48–49).

The Identity of Jesus Christ

Jesus’ Purpose and Community

The Quests for the Historical Jesus

Outcast

In the OT, the concept of being an outcast typically refers to Israel (Jer. 30:17), its being scattered (Isa. 11:12; Ps. 147:2) and later gathered (Isa. 27:13; Mic. 4:6; Zeph. 3:19). Paul pictures outcast Israel as the branches broken off from the good olive tree (Rom. 11:17). Jesus’ ministry is characterized as one to outcasts from society whereby the Messiah welcomed lepers and other socially marginalized people. Jesus himself is considered an outcast, having no residence of his own and being unwelcome in Jerusalem and his own hometown (cf. John 1:11).

Parenting

Patriarchal Structures

Aristotelian Household Codes

Marriage and Divorce

Children, Parenting, and Education

Abortion commonly took place in the Greco-Roman world. Women therefore had to be encouraged to continue in their pregnancies (1 Tim. 2:15).

Children were of low social status in society. Infant mortality was high. An estimated 60 percent of the children in the first-century Mediterranean society were dead by the age of sixteen.

Family as an Analogy

Parents

Patriarchal Structures

Aristotelian Household Codes

Marriage and Divorce

Children, Parenting, and Education

Abortion commonly took place in the Greco-Roman world. Women therefore had to be encouraged to continue in their pregnancies (1 Tim. 2:15).

Children were of low social status in society. Infant mortality was high. An estimated 60 percent of the children in the first-century Mediterranean society were dead by the age of sixteen.

Family as an Analogy

Philosophy in the New Testament

The philosophy (“love of wisdom”) most familiar to the writers of the NT began in Ionia, among those who attempted to determine the fundamental substance of the universe without recourse to superstition and myth (the pre-Socratics). Platonists, Peripatetics (Aristotelians), Stoics, and Epicureans—all began in Athens, extending the work of Socrates (c. 469–399 BC), who was executed for challenging the status quo and “corrupting the minds of the youth.” But by the first century BC, Hellenistic philosophy had permeated the Mediterranean world. The ontological quest for the nature of being, however, had joined itself to ethics: What is the good life? Therefore, philosophy and the gospel, which also made claims about the “is” and “ought” of the universe, would compete for the hearts of the people. Acts relates that Paul debated with Epicureans and Stoics (17:18).

Epicureanism. Epicurus (c. 341–270 BC) founded a school in his garden. His followers believed that he was divine, possessing answers for all of life’s questions. The founder wrote didactic letters to disseminate his philosophy. By coining maxims and slogans for illiterate people to memorize and pattern their lives by, he became perhaps the first popular philosopher (perhaps the equivalent of a modern “self-help guru”). His disciples were evangelistic, traversing the Roman Empire to win converts. They carefully memorized his teachings and, after his death, preserved his writings, which often were cited in an unchanging canon.

Epicurus preached a “common sense” gospel. The goal of life is personal happiness. The greatest obstacle to happiness is anxiety. He proposed a four-part “cure,” an intellectual appropriation of these truth claims: (1) there are no divine beings who threaten us; (2) there is no next life; (3) what we truly need is easy to get; (4) what makes us suffer is easy to put up with. A fundamental Epicurean conviction is that life on this earth comes with no strings attached. The implicit atheism and selfishness of the system were largely unappealing to Jews and pious pagans.

Stoicism. More influential were the Stoics, who had many leaders and no single source of authority. Zeno (c. 336–264 BC) founded the school, which took its name from the “painted porch” (stoa) on the north side of the Athenian market where he lectured. Like the Epicureans, the Stoics saw the goal of life to be personal happiness, but they embraced providence, the ordering of all things for the best. Therefore, happiness is living virtuously according to nature, which involves a two-part process: (1) we conform our lives to the rational principle guiding the universe, what they called the “Logos,” or “Word”; (2) we resign ourselves completely and without complaint to whatever providence may send us. This is living a life of reason.

The impersonal nature of the Logos and seeming coldness to the human condition made Stoicism difficult for most people to embrace. Perhaps through the mediating reflection of the Jewish philosopher Philo (c. 20 BC–AD 50), who attempted to synthesize Scripture and philosophy, the apostle John interpreted the mystery of the incarnation, in part, by presenting Jesus as the Logos/Word (John 1:1–18; see also Col. 1:15–20).

Other forms of philosophy. Also prominent were Cynics, who embraced the defiance of Socrates, and Neo-Pythagoreans, who extended asceticism to the rejection of wine, marriage, eating meat (and for some, beans), sacrifice, shoes, all clothing except that made of linen, shaving, and dancing. The singular reference to philosophy in the Bible is negative (Col. 2:8; cf. Acts 17:18–21). The context suggests that Paul’s opponents were influenced by Neo-Pythagoreans (Col. 2:6–23; see also 1 Tim. 4:1–5; 5:23).

The early church did not embrace a singular position on philosophy. Tertullian (c. AD 160–240) famously asks, “What is there in common between Athens and Jerusalem? What between the Academy and the Church?” (Praescr. 7). But Clement of Alexandria (c. AD 150–215) claims, “For God is the source of all good things. . . . Thus philosophy was a preparation, paving the way towards perfection in Christ” (Strom. 1.5.28). The church fathers appropriated the precision of philosophical vocabulary in their attempt to rationalize the mysteries of the Christian faith.

Shekinah

The Hebrew word shekinah refers to a continuing localized presence of God in the world, as this is portrayed in the Bible. Although the word shekinah does not occur in the Bible, it is related to the biblical Hebrew verb shakan, usually translated as “dwell,” and the biblical Hebrew noun mishkan, usually translated as “tabernacle, dwelling, tent.” Only the biblical usage of these Hebrew terms is discussed below.

The Bible presents God as acting in the world that he made. God sometimes speaks to people, as when he speaks to the prophet Moses from the burning bush (Exod. 3:1–6). God accompanies the nation of Israel in its journey out of Egypt, with his presence represented by pillars of cloud and fire (13:21–22; 14:19–24). From a cloud covering Mount Sinai, God speaks to the nation of Israel, giving the Ten Commandments (19:9–20:22). The Bible conceives of such entry into the world not as a denial of God’s transcendence and rule over the world but instead as affirming God’s power (Ps. 115:5–8). Those who deny God’s willingness or power to act in this way will naturally discredit the possibility of such events. However, that kind of denial is a philosophical and theological judgment, not a historical judgment. (For additional discussion of God’s action in the world, see Theophany.)

At Mount Sinai, God tells Moses to make a sanctuary, where God will dwell continually among his people, Israel (Exod. 25:8). The sanctuary is called a “tabernacle,” and it is a tent structure. The sanctuary or tabernacle is built, the cloud of God’s presence covers it, and God’s glory fills it (40:34–35). The term shekinah refers to God’s presence, as found, for example, in this tabernacle. The cloud of God’s presence rises up whenever the tabernacle is to be moved for another day’s journey through the desert and drops back down afterward (Exod. 40:36–38; Num. 9:15–23).

Centuries later, Solomon builds a temple in Jerusalem to replace the portable tabernacle as God’s sanctuary. The cloud of God’s glory fills the temple (1 Kings 8:10–13). Centuries after this, the prophet Ezekiel has a vision in which he sees the cloud of God’s glory leaving the temple because of the sin of the nation of Israel and envisions the impending destruction of the temple (Ezek. 10–11). The temple is destroyed, later rebuilt, and ultimately destroyed again in AD 70.

In the NT, the presence of God in the tabernacle is compared to the presence of God in Jesus Christ. John’s Gospel begins with literary references to Gen. 1, where God creates the world by merely speaking. John says that God’s Word of creation both was “with God” and “was God,” since God’s Word is distinct from God, even while God himself is present in his Word (John 1:1–3). John goes on to say that this divine Word became flesh and dwelled among us (1:14). The Greek word for “dwell” is skēnoō, which often has the meaning of dwelling in a tent (skēnē). The idea is that just as God had previously come to dwell in the tabernacle, the divine Word has now come to dwell in human flesh. This interpretation is confirmed in the following words, that the disciples had seen “his glory.” This is an allusion to God’s glory, which had typically rested on the tabernacle, and which John says was revealed in Jesus’ miracles (e.g., 2:11).

Stoicism

Tentmaker

Theology of Work

God the Worker

Human Labor

Trinity

The biblical writers proclaim that only one God exists, yet they also refer to three persons as “God.” The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are all God. Furthermore, these three persons relate to one another as self-conscious individuals. Jesus prays to the Father (John 17). The Father speaks from heaven concerning the Son (Matt. 3:17; Luke 3:22). Jesus vows to send the Spirit as “Advocate” after his ascension, and he will do what Jesus himself did while he was among us (John 16:7–8). The challenge of Christian theology, therefore, is to formulate a doctrine of God that captures all these elements, each of which surfaces in both Testaments.

Old Testament

In the OT, evidence for the Trinity appears mostly at the implicit level. Yahweh is called “Father” in Isaiah (63:16; 64:8), Jeremiah (3:4, 19; 31:9), and Malachi (2:10). Isaiah declares, “But you are our Father, though Abraham does not know us or Israel acknowledge us; you, Lord, are our Father, our Redeemer from of old is your name” (Isa. 63:16). Yahweh identifies himself as “Father” implicitly when he claims Israel as his “son” (Hos. 11:1), and the same principle applies to Ps. 2:7, where God declares to his anointed, “You are my son; today I have become your father.” These cases do not compare in numbers with the NT evidence, but a person thought of as “God the Father” certainly appears in the OT.

Messianic texts of the OT introduce us to God the Son. In Isa. 9:6 a “child is born” who will be called “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” The day of “Immanuel,” or “God with us,” is foreshadowed in Isa. 7:14 (cf. Matt. 1:22), while Isa. 40:3–5 anticipates the appearance of the Lord “in the wilderness” (cf. Matt. 3:3). Daniel sees “one like a son of man, coming with the clouds of heaven” being given “authority, glory and sovereign power” (Dan. 7:13–14). In Ps. 110:1 Yahweh says to David’s “Lord,” “Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet.”

Similarly, the OT seems to distinguish the Spirit of God from Yahweh while implying the Spirit’s own personality. Genesis 1:2 makes that case, as does Exod. 31:3, where Yahweh fills Bezalel with the “Spirit of God” (cf. Exod. 35:31; Num. 11:29). In 1 Sam. 16:14 a contrast is made between the “Spirit of the Lord” that leaves Saul and an “evil spirit from the Lord” that torments him; also we find a repentant David pleading that God would not take away his “Holy Spirit” (Ps. 51:11). The Spirit can be put on persons by God, with the result that they prophesy (Isa. 61:1; Joel 2:28–29) and do what pleases him (Ezek. 36:26–27). In the OT, therefore, we see two persons (the Son and the Holy Spirit) who are both God and also distinguishable from one to whom they answer and by whom they are sent.

New Testament

The NT contains abundant evidence for “God the Father,” often because of Jesus’ teaching. The “Father” appears several times in the Sermon on the Mount (e.g., Matt. 5:16; 6:6–9, 14, 18, 26, 32; 7:11). Matthew 7:21 stands out because of Jesus’ reference to “my Father who is in heaven,” by which he identifies himself as the Son (see also Matt. 15:13; 16:17; 18:10; and Luke 24:49). Paul’s greetings normally come from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, as seen in Rom. 1:7: “Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ” (also 1 Cor. 1:3; 2 Cor. 1:2; Gal. 1:1–3; 1 Tim. 1:2; 2 Tim. 1:2). Paul introduces the Father and the Son in 1 Cor. 8:6: “For us there is but one God, the Father, from whom all things came and for whom we live; and there is but one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom all things came and through whom we live” (see also 1 Cor. 15:24; 2 Cor. 11:31; Eph. 1:3; Phil. 2:22). Other significant texts include Heb. 1:5; 1 Pet. 1:2–3; in the latter, the scattered believers are those “who have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, to be obedient to Jesus Christ and sprinkled with his blood. . . . Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!” The NT evidence for “God the Father” is clear.

Biblical texts that point to the deity of Christ supply evidence for the second claim: the Son is God. Some of the texts listed above say as much, but one can take this case further. In context, John’s prologue refers to Jesus as the “Word” and proclaims that he was “with God” and “was God” (John 1:1). Jesus also relates to the Father in ways that imply his own deity, as he declares in John 10:30, “I and the Father are one.” After significant doubting, Thomas confesses the deity of Christ in John 20:28: “My Lord and my God!” NT passages that identify Jesus as the “Son of God” point to his deity, as Peter does in Matt. 16:16: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Even demons identify Jesus as the Son. They call out, “What do you want with us, Son of God? . . . Have you come here to torture us before the appointed time?” (Matt. 8:29; cf. Mark 5:7). The so-called Christ Hymn of Phil. 2:6–11 puts Jesus on the level with God, saying that he did not consider “equality with God something to be used to his own advantage.” The author of Hebrews declares that Jesus is “the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being” (1:3). Colossians 1:15–16 says that Jesus is the “image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation” and the one by whom “all things were created,” and Col. 1:19 states that “God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him.” According to Titus 2:13, Jesus is “our great God and Savior.” The entire sequence of Rev. 4–5 highlights the deity of Christ, culminating in the praise “To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be praise and honor and glory and power, for ever and ever!” as both the Enthroned One and the Lamb are worshiped as God (5:13–14).

The NT writers underscore both the deity and the distinctive personality of the Holy Spirit. Jesus is conceived in Mary’s womb by the Spirit’s power (Matt. 1:18–20), and when Jesus is baptized, the Spirit descends upon him as a dove (Matt. 3:16; Mark 1:10). Jesus drives out demons by the Spirit, and one dare not speak against the Spirit when he does so (Matt. 12:28–32). Luke’s Gospel puts added emphasis on the ministry of the Spirit, as we also see in Acts. He empowers various people to praise and prophesy (Luke 1:41, 67) and to be witnesses for Christ (Acts 1:8; 2:4, 17–18, 38). Sinners can lie to the Holy Spirit (Acts 5:3, 9), and the Holy Spirit bears witness along with the apostles to the risen Christ (5:32). In John’s Gospel, the Spirit becomes the counselor and teacher of the disciples, reminding them of their Lord’s instructions (John 14:26; 16:13). The Spirit brings assurance of sonship (Rom. 8:16) and helps disciples when they pray (8:26). This person even knows the very thoughts of God (1 Cor. 2:11). Accordingly, the Great Commission requires baptism in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (Matt. 28:19). All three members of the Trinity have a part in the advancement of the kingdom, the Spirit no less than the Father and the Son.

Relationships between Father, Son, and Spirit

The evidence considered thus far demonstrates that three persons are called “God” in Scripture: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. But the Scriptures also point to a chain of command in their relationship to one another. The Son obeys the Father, and the Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son to apply the work of the cross to the church. This “functional subordination” of the Son to the Father, some might argue, would follow simply from the analogy chosen by God to reveal himself to us. The “Son” would obey his “Father,” not vice versa, though they share a common dignity as God, just as a human father and son share a common humanity. But the NT writers expressly tell us that they relate to each other in this way. In Matt. 11:27 (cf. Luke 10:22) Jesus announces, “All things have been committed to me by my Father” (cf. John 3:35; 5:22). The latter transfers authority to the former as his subordinate. The Father even (for a season) knows more than the Son regarding the last days: “About that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father” (Matt. 24:36), though he also dignifies the Son: “For the Father loves the Son and shows him all he does” (John 5:20). The Son’s commitment to please his heavenly Father is a prominent theme of the NT, as Jesus declares in John 5:19: “The Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does.” No text brings out this dependence of the Son upon the Father more clearly than Heb. 5:7–8, where the Son is said to have “offered up prayers and petitions with fervent cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered.” It is debated by theologians whether this functional subordination relates only to the period of the Son’s earthly ministry, or whether it is an eternal subordination.

The Spirit, though equal in personality and dignity with the Father and the Son, proceeds from them to apply the work of the cross and empower the church for ministry. In John 14:26 Jesus says, “The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.” In John 15:26 Jesus announces that he also sends the Spirit out: “When the Advocate comes, whom I will send to you from the Father—the Spirit of truth who goes out from the Father—he will testify about me.” The Spirit only conveys what he has received: “He will not speak on his own; he will speak only what he hears, and he will tell you what is yet to come” (John 16:13). The same “chain of command” appears in John 16:15, where Jesus says, “All that belongs to the Father is mine. That is why I said the Spirit will receive from me what he will make known to you.”

Trinitarian Heresies

The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are God, while being distinguishable persons. The Son obeys the Father; and these two persons of the Trinity send out the Holy Spirit to implement our deliverance from sin. A defensible explanation of the Trinity will respect all these dynamics, taking special care not to illustrate them with misleading images or simply lapse into various forms of polytheism. One of the earliest heresies of the church came from Marcion, a second-century theologian who distinguished the Father of Jesus from the supposedly vindictive God of the OT, which leaves us with more than one God. Later came the heresies of modalism and subordinationism (or Arianism). Modalists claimed that the persons of the Trinity are no more than guises worn by the one person of God. One minute God is the Father, the next he is the Son or the Holy Spirit. Subordinationists such as Arius (died AD 336) went beyond the functionality of the NT’s chain of command, arguing that the Son and the Holy Spirit are not themselves God but are essentially subordinate to him. Jehovah’s Witnesses have fallen into this latter error, suggesting that Jesus is “a god” but not the Creator God.

These early heresies pressed the church to refine its understanding of the Trinity. In his response to Marcion’s error, Tertullian coined precise language to describe the persons of the Godhead, so that God’s “threeness” and “oneness” are preserved. He used the Latin term trinitas to describe the Christian God and argued that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit share the same “substance.” The Son (also, then, the Holy Spirit) is not simply of “like substance” (Gk. homoiousios) with God the Father, but rather is “consubstantial” (Gk. homoousios) with him: the Son is God, and so is the Holy Spirit. The Nicene Creed of AD 325 incorporated this explanation and, in so doing, also set aside the idea that either the Son or the Holy Spirit was created by God, as the Arian heresy requires. Nicaea also rejected adoptionism, which regards Jesus as a man whom God promoted by endowing him with supernatural powers.

Each of these heresies—plus, say, the strict monotheism of Islam—attempts to relieve the tension seen among the claims that constitute the Trinity; however, orthodox Christians will remember that tensions and paradoxes are not automatic contradictions. No philosopher or theologian has ever expressly demonstrated that the Trinity entails logical nonsense, and Christianity’s detractors carry the burden of proof in this case. It is one thing to allege that an idea is contradictory, and quite another thing to show with an argument that it is so. On the positive side, the Trinity must remain a central doctrine of the church because it affects all the others, especially the entire work of redemption. If God is not triune, then Jesus is not God; and if he is not God, then he cannot save us, nor can we worship him as our Lord. The sacrifice that he offers for our sin would not, in that case, be supremely valuable. Consider also the application to us of what Christ has done. If the Holy Spirit is not God, then he cannot speak for God as one who knows perfectly his thoughts and gives us the word of God, our Bible. Scripture indicates that God is triune, and sinners need him to be so.

Virgin Birth

The traditional designation “virgin birth” refers to the supernatural conception of Jesus Christ by the Holy Spirit, apart from sexual relations. Technically, one should speak of a “virginal conception,” since Jesus was virginally conceived but was born normally. The virgin “birth” is considered by some theologians to be the means by which the two natures of Jesus Christ are preserved: his humanity stems from the fact that he was born of the virgin Mary, while his deity proceeds from the reality that God was his father and he was conceived by the Holy Spirit. The later Apostles’ Creed formulates the matter this way: Jesus Christ “was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary.” Here, three aspects of the virgin birth are discussed: (1) the virgin birth and Isa. 7:14; (2) the virgin birth in the NT; (3) the historicity of the virgin birth.

Isaiah 7:14. Isaiah 7:14 reads, “The virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel” (ESV). Two key issues are involved in Isaiah’s prophecy. First, should the Hebrew word ’almah be translated as “virgin” or as “young woman”? While the Hebrew term does not necessarily mean a virgin, but only a young woman of marriageable age, the Greek term parthenos used in the LXX of Isa. 7:14 and quoted in Matt. 1:23 has stronger connotations of virginity. Second, when was Isa. 7:14 fulfilled? Most likely the OT text was partially fulfilled in Isaiah’s day (with reference to King Ahaz’s unnamed son or to Isaiah’s son Maher-Shalal-Hash-Baz [Isa. 8:1]) but found its ultimate fulfillment in Jesus, as Matt. 1:23 points out.

New Testament. The infancy narratives recorded in Matt. 1–2 and in Luke 1–2 provide the story line for Jesus’ virginal conception: (1) Mary was a virgin engaged to Joseph (Matt. 1:18; Luke 1:27, 34; 2:5); (2) she was found to be pregnant while still engaged to Joseph, a conception produced by the Holy Spirit (Matt. 1:18, 20; Luke 1:35; cf. Matt. 1:18–25; Luke 1:34); (3) only after Jesus was born did Mary and Joseph have sexual relations (Matt. 1:24–25). Even though there is nothing in these narratives like the hypostatic union formulated in the later church creeds, it is clear that Matthew and Luke in some way associate Jesus’ deity and humanity with the virginal conception. Other NT texts are considered by some as possible references to the virgin birth. John 1:14 states that “the Word became flesh,” which certainly highlights Jesus’ two natures—deity and humanity—but does not thereby explicitly mention the virgin birth. Paul does something similar in Rom. 1:3 (“[God’s] Son, who as to his earthly life was a descendant of David”), Gal. 4:4 (“God sent his Son, born of a woman”), and Phil. 2:6–11 (Jesus existed in the form of God but took on human likeness). Beyond these passages, there is little else regarding the virgin birth stated or alluded to in the NT.

Historicity. Two important considerations indicate that the virgin birth of Jesus was a historical event and not a mythic legend. First, the simplicity of the descriptions of the birth narratives in Matthew and Luke, when compared with the fantastic details found in contemporary accounts of Greco-Roman and Jewish supernatural births, bespeak the authenticity of the NT documents. For example, one can cite the stories of the supernatural birth of Alexander the Great in Greek sources and of Noah in extrabiblical Jewish sources. In addition, secondary details such as the mention of Anna’s father, Phanuel (Luke 2:36), add nothing significant to the account and thus appear to be matter-of-fact reporting by an eyewitness. Second, the commonalities between Matthew and Luke regarding the virgin birth of Jesus attest to its historicity.

In conclusion, while the NT does not contain extensive information concerning the virgin birth of Jesus, there is sufficient evidence to support its historicity.

Weddings

Ceremonies marking entry into marriage. In the Bible, weddings initiate the formation of new households with the blessing of family and community.

Old Testament

In the OT, weddings were important to the patriarchs and to Israel because the new couple was expected to produce children to help fulfill the Abrahamic covenant (Gen. 12:2; 17:6; 22:15–18; Ruth 4:11–13; Isa. 65:23). Heirs were also the assurance that a man’s name remained eternally with Israel, so much so that if a man died childless, his brother was obligated to wed the widow and produce children in his name (Gen. 38:8; Deut. 25:5–10). Moreover, weddings assured that property was kept within families and tribes and also transferred in an orderly way from one generation to the next (Num. 36:1–12; Ruth 4:5; Ps. 25:13).

Multiple wives were allowed in the OT (Gen. 30:26; Deut. 21:15; 1 Sam. 1:2; 2 Sam. 5:13; 1 Kings 11:3), as were multiple concubines, who had official standing in the household, though lower than that of wives. Weddings usually were associated with a man publicly taking a wife; he acquired concubines with less fanfare (Gen. 16:1–3; 30:3–5; Judg. 19:1, 3).

OT weddings included certain distinctive elements. The bridegroom or his father paid a bride-price, or dowry, to the father of the bridegroom’s prospective wife (Gen. 34:12; Exod. 22:16–17; 1 Sam. 18:25). The bridegroom had a more central role than the bride. He emerged from a chamber or tent to claim his wife (Ps. 19:5; Joel 2:16), who, in the case of a royal wedding, may have processed to him (Ps. 45:13–15). Both he and the bride were adorned (Song 3:11; Isa. 49:18; 61:10; Jer. 2:32); the woman was also veiled (Gen. 24:65; 29:23, 25; 38:14, 19; Song 4:1, 3; Isa. 47:1–3). Their wedding was the occasion of much rejoicing and feasting (Gen. 29:22; Jer. 7:34; 16:9; 25:10; 33:11) and lasted seven days (Gen. 29:27; Judg. 14:17). The main event was their sexual union (Isa. 62:5), which occurred on the first night (Gen. 29:23; Ruth 4:13). Unless she had been a widow, the bride was presumed to be a virgin on her wedding night, and evidence of her virginity, a bloodstained cloth, was retained as proof (Deut. 22:13–19). Virginity was essential to a previously unmarried bride; a woman who had been raped or otherwise engaged in premarital sexual relations was deemed defiled and unmarriageable to any but the first man with whom she had intercourse (Deut. 22:21; 2 Sam. 13:1–20). The importance of this underpins the shock value of the book of Hosea (see esp. 1:2), an extended metaphor that presents Israel as a prostitute nevertheless pursued by Yahweh as her husband.

New Testament

The NT continues to testify to many of these wedding traditions, significantly including the gathering of community (Matt. 22:2; John 2:1–2) in joyful celebration (Matt. 9:15; Mark 2:19; Luke 5:34; John 2:9–10). Wedding feasts could be lavish affairs (Matt. 22:4; John 2:6–10), with protocols regarding seating (Luke 14:8–10) and attire (Matt. 22:11–13; Rev. 19:7–9).

In the NT, these and other first-century wedding customs illustrate aspects of the kingdom of heaven. The parable of the wedding feast (Matt. 22:1–14) contrasts the invited guests (corrupt religious leaders in Israel) who ignored the king’s wedding invitation and murdered his servants with those people, good and evil, gathered from the streets (the downtrodden) who took their place. Their willingness to attend is qualified only by their coming properly attired in wedding robes, which by inference were provided by the king himself (Rev. 19:7–8).

The parable of the ten virgins (Matt. 25:1–13) plays on the understanding that weddings occurred not at a specific time but when the bridegroom was ready. His readiness was determined by, among other things, the readiness of a dwelling place for his new bride. In first-century Capernaum, this would have been a room or rooms built onto his father’s insula, a multifamily compound surrounding an interior courtyard; the same image is behind John 14:2–4. The parable, identifying the Son of Man as the bridegroom, illustrates that while his coming in glory is certain, its timing is unknown. Therefore, the bridal party is to be vigilant and prepared.

Elsewhere, Jesus is specifically named as the bridegroom preparing to marry his bride, the church (2 Cor. 11:2; Eph. 5:25–27, 31–32). The wedding feast at Cana (John 2:1–11), which begins Jesus’ public ministry, points proleptically to the marriage supper of the Lamb, which inaugurates the eschatological age (Rev. 19:7–9). The culminating picture of God with his people (Deut. 16:13–16; Matt. 1:23; John 1:14) is a magnificent wedding (Rev. 21:2, 9) between Christ and the new Jerusalem.

Wife

Patriarchal Structures

Aristotelian Household Codes

Marriage and Divorce

Children, Parenting, and Education

Abortion commonly took place in the Greco-Roman world. Women therefore had to be encouraged to continue in their pregnancies (1 Tim. 2:15).

Children were of low social status in society. Infant mortality was high. An estimated 60 percent of the children in the first-century Mediterranean society were dead by the age of sixteen.

Family as an Analogy

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1. See the Resemblance

Illustration

Larry Powell

In all prrobablity, you know of some young boy who bears such a striking resemblance to his father that a person would know immediately, even in a crowd, that they were father and son. The father can be seen in the son. The Bible tells us that "God was Christ!" In what ways did the Son resemble the Father?

a. In his life. Jesus affirmed and celebrated life. His was not the attitude that this world and all that is in it are despicably evil ... that the object is to totally reject life with an eye always on "glory" ... that beauty in any form must be repressed as a tool of the devil. No, instead, Christ affirmed and celebrated life. Not a recluse, he enjoyed friendships with Lazarus, Mary, Martha, and others. He observed simple domestic gestures and was so impressed by them that he gave them a prominent place in his teachings (a woman sweeping a house, or drawing water at a well, baking bread, old wineskins bursting with new wine, lamps flickering in the night, patches on old garments). He enjoyed and absorbed the movements in nature and referred to them in order to illustrate his message; birds gathering into trees, foxes going into dens, figs withering, storm clouds boiling. Jesus affirmed life in such a positive manner, experiencing and relating to God’s great intention and design for all he had made, that we may understand life is not to be either seized nor rejected, but "lived" in an attitude of "Praise God!" In the harmony of Christ’s life with creation, we see something of God’s great intention and design for each of us.

b. In his ministry. Jesus’ ministry was characterized by the absolute "giving" of himself. He was, as one theologian puts it, "radically obedient" to God. In the same spirit, he was "radically giving" to others, always reaching, touching, healing, praying, searching, loving. The Bell Telephone Company did not originate the concept of "Reach Out and Touch Someone." The concept was in the mind of God before creation and the practice is as old as Eden. It was perfected in Jesus Christ, proclaimed in the New Testament, and is as relevant today as this morning’s newspaper. The ministry of Christ reveals a God who "spends" himself for creation.

c. In his teaching. Jesus was able to recognize and relate to God in the common life through his teachings. His life, ministry, and teachings combined to reveal a God of boundless love, caring, concern, and sensitive compassion. What he taught, he practiced. Even in death he was consistent with the witness of his life. Having spoken of "forgiving one’s enemies" and those who "despitefully use you," he gathered his words into action on Calvary. "Father, forgive them," he prayed. He taught so very much more, all of which was personified in his life. He showed that if the "good teacher" is flawlessly consistent, how much more consistent and loving must be our heavenly Father?

d. In his resurrection. Here, God unmistakably reveals himself. His power is beyond imagination. His promises are made good. His intentions and purposes will not be overthrown. His actual involvement in the world is confirmed. In the resurrected Christ, God is clearly revealed. God was, in all ways, in Christ!

2. We Ache to Know God’s Blessings

Illustration

Joel D. Kline

In his book, Faith Works, Jim Wallis writes of a personal experience I heard him share in a class several years ago, while I was doing sabbatical study at Harvard Divinity School. Jim Wallis is a leader of the Sojourners community, intentionally located in a poor inner-city neighborhood of Washington, D.C. After living in that neighborhood for more than twenty years, Wallis found himself the victim of a mugging. Preoccupied with an upcoming speaking opportunity, Jim failed to "watch his back" as he turned the corner on a deserted street, and by the time he heard the running feet behind him, it was too late. As he turned around, he was hit by something sharp enough to open a gash over one eye, and he immediately felt the blood running down his face. Several hands pushed him to the ground, and he could hear one of his assailants shout, "Keep him down! Get his wallet! Take his money!"

Popping up quickly to face the muggers, Jim discovered that there were four of them, all young teenagers, no one more than fourteen years of age. The youth circled Jim, and the youngest one, who couldn't have been more than twelve years old, clearly had watched a lot of television, because he began to flail away at Jim with earnest but ineffectual karate kicks. Noting that the youth weren't carrying guns, Jim decided to confront them with what they were doing. "Stop it! Just stop it!" Jim scolded them. "You guys have got to quit terrorizing people like this." The young teens, taken by surprise, dropped their hands, so Jim continued, "I'm a pastor. You boys want to try and beat up a pastor and take his money? Come on ahead. Take your best shot." At that they fled down the street, but the little karate kicker turned back, looking directly in Jim's eyes with a sad expression and saying in a sincere voice, "Pastor, ask God for a blessing for me."

Who among us does not yearn for a blessing from God? Even those we are tempted to write off as too tough, too entrenched in destructive behavior—buried deep beneath the hardened exterior there is a yearning for blessing. Whether a troubled youth, one struggling with addiction, or the "respectable" person fearful of giving voice to his or her own inner struggle—whatever our situation in life, we ache to know God's blessing.

3. The Word Became Flesh

Illustration

Joel D. Kline

In The Message, Eugene Peterson paraphrases the familiar words of the Word becoming flesh this way: "The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into our neighborhood." This is the remarkable truth we celebrate during the Christmas season, a truth we would do well to carry into the new year—that ours is a creating God who continues to act in human life, bringing light into our darkness, hope into our despair, life into our brokenness, love into our fear and suspicion and dread. And perhaps it is only when life is at its toughest, when that light seems most elusive, that faith begins to make sense at all. For it is faith that empowers us, when immersed in darkness, to trust in the presence of the light.

4. The Church Is There, The Word Becomes Flesh

Illustration

William B. Kincaid, III

Jerry had lived down the street from the church for nine years, but no one in the church or the neighborhood knew him very well. He didn't participate in the church or community. One afternoon his wife suffered a major stroke, and all there was to do was wait. Jerry and his three children waited 39 days in the hospital, but they didn't wait alone. Every single day of that 39-day stretch somebody from the church stopped by to say hello. Two church members drove grandchildren back and forth to school, ball games, and dances. Another church member mowed Jerry's yard and watered his flowers. Another person from the church transferred sick days from her account to Jerry's account so that Jerry would continue to receive a salary. During that time the people from the church got to know Jerry and came to appreciate him very much. On the day when Jerry's wife died, people from church were there. And the Word became flesh.

5. Good Advance People

Illustration

Alex Stevenson

Once upon a time there was a politician who was running in a very close election He had a firm grasp of the issues and many good ideas. The problem was he had no name recognition. The voters simply did not know who he was or what he stood for. To make up for this handicap he had to get out and meet the voters. He needed to advertise and get the word out. He had to shake every hand and kiss every baby he could.

To handle this most important public relations part of the campaign he had a very good friend. The problem was his friend wasn't very good. Often times the advertisements were muddled and even wrong. Once during a whistle stop tour no one showed up, not even the mayor of the town they were in and the mayor was a supporter. The problem was that this advance man had failed to tell anyone that the candidate was coming.

The others who worked for the candidate began to wonder why he kept this guy around. In the last days of the campaign it all fell apart. In the end the candidate lost the election by a very slim margin. If his advance man had not been so incompetent they would have won. You see, we are supposed to be advance people for Jesus. Sometimes I wonder why he doesn't fire us.

6. A Future Hope Transforms the Present

Illustration

In the early 1960s, the German theologian Jurgen Moltmann wrote a incredible book called "Theology of Hope". This work takes as its assumption that true Christian faith can only have its transforming effect on the individual, on society and on the world when it is rooted in a vision of hope. "From first to last, and not merely in the epilogue," wrote Moltmann, "Christianity is hope, forward looking and forward moving, and therefore also revolutionizing and transforming the present." In Moltmann's view, to live in hope does not mean that one lives in a state of disconnectedness from the present because of some expectation of a greater although unrealized future; rather, to live with a vision of hope gives a person--and the church--the inspiration and the motivation never to settle for the status quo, but rather to challenge and perhaps even work towards the transformation of any dimension of life that is not in line with that envisioned hope.

7. Middle C

Illustration

Lloyd C. Douglas, author of The Robe and other novels lived in a boarding house when he was a student. On the first floor of the house there lived a retired music teacher who was confined to a wheelchair. Every morning as Douglas went down stairs he would stick his head in the music teacher's room and ask his friend; “What's the good news?” To which the music teacher would respond each day by striking a tuning fork against the side of his wheelchair and saying; “Middle C! Hear that, it's middle C! It was middle C yesterday, it's middle C today, and it will still be middle C 1,000 years from now. The tenor upstairs sings flat, the piano across the hall is out of tune, but my friend - that is middle C!”

God's love and care is our middle C. Just like middle C could be counted on by the music teacher to be middle C always and forever, so too can we count on God to love and care for us, to see us as children worth adopting and saving, even dying for, to be the light that cannot be extinguished, no matter what.

8. The Harvest of Love

Illustration

Helen Keller

That blessed saint, Helen Keller once wrote: "Christmas is the harvest time of love. Souls are drawn to other souls. All that we have read and thought and hoped comes to fruition at this happy time. Our spirits are astir. We feel within us a strong desire to serve. A strange, subtle force, a new kindness animates man and child. A new spirit is growing in us. No longer are we content to relieve pain, to sweeten sorrow, to give the crust of charity. We dare to give friendship, service, the equal loaf of bread and love."

Peace, power and purpose. "The light shines in the darkness…" In these very busy days of preparation, may His peace, His power and His purpose dwell in our hearts.

9. The Truly Human Christ

Illustration

Donald B. Strobe

In the early years of the Church Gnosticism gave rise to the heresy of "Docetism," from the Greek dokeo which means "to seem." This heresy taught that Jesus never had any real human body, but just sort of flitted over the earth like a ghost. It is interesting to note that in the familiar "Apostles' Creed" the phrase "born of the Virgin Mary" was inserted in the first place not to emphasize the word "virgin," but rather to emphasize the word "born."

Lest you think that this theological debate is long, long ago and far away, may I hasten to suggest that there are still a lot of happy Gnostics and Docetists among us. The theology of Mary Baker Eddy which forms the basis of Christian Science certainly leans in the direction of Gnosticism. Most popular piety has a Gnostic Christ who never really quite touches this earth. When British mystery writer and lay theologian Dorothy Sayers' famous cycle of plays "The Man Born to be King" was first performed on the radio in England in 1941, there were strong protests. Mr. J.W. Welch, then director of Religious Broadcasting for the BBC had this to say of the critics: "The disturbing feature of the opposition was its revelation of a widespread and seriously defective theology of the Incarnation. The Word was made flesh'- how many of us dare believe that? Some listeners were quite incapable of believing that Christ laughed, said Good Morning,' or was in any sense fully human."

10. Body Language

Illustration

Donald B. Strobe

Presbyterian preacher Thomas Hilton tells of watching Billy Graham on television a few years back, when his small daughter Karin came into the living room and looked at the television set and exclaimed, "Dad, what is he so mad about?" To a small child the body language of a person is often more important than the verbal language. She saw the raised arm, heard the loud voice, saw the intense face, and assumed anger. I have an idea that was not the message that Billy was trying to get across, but children are especially good at reading the body language of adults. And sometimes our actions speak much louder than our words.

This familiar fact has opened up a whole new realm of study. We call it "body language," and it was popularized by a book of that title written by Julius Fast. The book highlights the well-known fact that we are known by others as much by how we look and act as by what we say. One researcher has come up with the estimate that feelings are expressed to others 7% through words, 38% through vocal tone, and 55% through facial expression. (I always wondered why I hate telephones so much. Now I know: I can't see what people are saying!)

"Body language." That's what the author of the Fourth gospel was talking about when he sat down to write the first chapter. In fact, that was the primary reason that he wrote the Gospel in the first place.

11. Too Big to Be Understood

Illustration

Bill Bouknight

I often stop at a certain restaurant in town which has a first-class aquarium. It contains a glorious assortment of tropical fish with colors so extraordinary that only God's personal coloring set could have decorated them. It takes a lot of work to run an aquarium. The owner monitors the oxygen and nitrate levels and the ammonia content. The water is filtered. Vitamins, antibiotics and sulfa drugs must be pumped in. The fish have to be fed regularly. Now with all that care and attention, you would think that the fish would adore the owner. But they don't. Anytime he comes around, they dart away in fear. The owner is like a god to those fish, too big to comprehend, too frightening to love. The only way to change that would be for the owner to somehow become a fish and communicate the true message. Similarly, God had to become a person to communicate with us. "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth."

12. Trying to Recognize God

Illustration

Johnny Dean

In Auden's Christmas oratorio, "For the Time Being," it is King Herod, a thoroughly reasonable and ultimately practical person, who prays for a God he can recognize on sight, one who is not the least bit extraordinary, someone like himself. Is that what we want, too? This is precisely the One whom John the Baptist will not produce. John stands there for eternity, interrupting our carefully planned Christmases with his thought-provoking announcement: "Among you stands one whom you do not know." You see, we handle the treasures of Christmas with such familiarity and casualness that we're likely to forget that the coming of the Messiah, the Promised Redeemer of God, Emmanuel, is always clothed in mystery. The One who is present to us is always the One who is hidden from us.

13. Entertaining Angels Unaware

Illustration

Mark Trotter

The Letter to the Hebrews in the New Testament reminds us of that incident, and counsels Christians to make hospitality a Christian virtue. "For you may be entertaining angels unaware." But more than that, you may be doing it to Christ, who said, "If you have done it to the least of these, you have done it to me."

Tom Long teaches at the seminary at Princeton. But for a while he lived in Atlanta, and attended a Presbyterian Church in downtown Atlanta. Like most downtown churches, it has to cope with the problem of the homeless. So they opened up their gymnasium in the winter as a shelter. It was the practice of that church, as it is in this church when we open our buildings as a shelter in the winter months, to have people from the church serve as hosts and hostesses.

Long volunteered to be a host one night. The night came and since no one else volunteered, he invited a friend to come and join him. His friend was not a member of that church. In fact, he wasn't a member of any church. But periodically, in their conversations about religious matters, this friend would say, "Tom, I'm not a theologian, but it seems to me...," and then he would express his opinion.

On this night as they were hosting the shelter, they met the men as they arrived, saw that they had something to eat, hung out with them for a while. Then as the men began to prepare to retire, Tom's friend said, "Tom, you get some sleep. I will stay with them the first watch, then I'll wake you up, and you can come and stay with them for the rest of the night."

So the friend stayed up and mingled with the guests, listened to them, asked questions about who they were, what had happened to them in their lives that they were now homeless. At 2:00 a.m. he went in and woke up Tom. He said, "Wake up! Wake up! I want you to come and see this. Granted I am no theologian, but I think that Jesus is down there."

It was promised. "Those who show hospitality to the least of these," he said, "have done it to me."

14. A Reminder Where Our Hearts Belong

Illustration

Wm. McCord

Since Thanksgiving, the shopping malls have been telling us that "It's the most wonderful time of the year." And it is - for them. For many others, however, it is a mixed bag. Christmas isn't what it was when I was a child and never will be again. I'm an adult; it's different; it just is. In this economically difficult time, many have lost jobs or seen their investments and securities dwindle unsure of what the future holds.

Perhaps we have not been able to do what we might have liked to have done for Christmas. Many husbands and wives, sons and daughters, fathers and mothers, are serving in harm's way and are not able to be with family this Christmas. There are those living with illness or with grief at the death of a loved one sorrow intensified during this season of memories of Christmases past and high, perhaps unrealistic, expectations of what Christmas is supposed to be. There might be those who are just as happy to have the celebration done with and over.

In this season of gift giving and all that pulls and tugs on our hearts, may we remember the good gifts that the Creator has given us, the sun and the moon, this good earth with all its blessings of sky and water, plants and animals, this incredible gift of life, of flesh and blood, of breath and memory, this day, this moment, and all those who people our lives, both joy and sorrow, and all that it means for us to be fully human, fully alive. And, above all, may we remember the gift of the Word made flesh sent to save us, to heal us, to bring us joy, to bring us back to God's own self.

15. Walking in Our Shoes

Illustration

John Claypool

When I was a very young minister and had not yet myself been initiated into the fraternity of grief, I remember being called once to minister to an old farm widow. Her husband had just died, and I went with all my earnest intent to be as much comfort as I could to her, but I had never lost a significant person in my life. Most of my knowledge of grief was abstract and academic, and so I went and said the best words I knew to say. I tried to convey my care, but while I was doing that, there came into the room where we were another older woman about this widow's age. She walked across and without hardly a word, she embraced the grieving person and all she said was, "I understand, my dear. I understand."

Someone told me later that this second person had just lost her husband six months before and, therefore, she came out of a shared understanding of what my friend was experiencing. And I could almost see the bridges of understanding coming to exist between them. That woman who had shared the same experience as my grieving friend had a way of connecting, had a way of making clear that she understood, that I was not able to because I had not walked in her shoes.

Let me suggest that if God, in fact, has come to this earth to live as we have to live, if God has experienced life the way we have to experience it, then it means that we can believe that God understands, that none of our experiences are strange to the Holy One, because God has chosen to share the human condition with us. There is no longer a remote sense that God is above and outside us, but there is this incredible sense that God understands from within what it's like to be a human being, to struggle as we have to struggle and, therefore, can give us grace to help in our times of trouble.

16. Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star

Illustration

James McCormick

I read somewhere about an astronomer and a pastor who were seated next to one another on an airplane flight. When they became aware of their vocations, the astronomer said, "I believe that religion can be summed up in the words, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." "Yes," said the pastor, "about as much as astronomy can be summed up in the words, "Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are." No, there is more to it than ethics.

17. Keeping Expectations Low

Illustration

Billy D. Strayhorn

One of my favorite sources of illustrations used to be the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes. I miss that little miscreant and his stuffed tiger. In one of the strips, Calvin is talking to Susie (remember, his arch enemy) about a test they had just taken and asked her: "What grade did you get?" Susie says, "I got an A."

Calvin replies, "Really? Boy, I'd hate to be you. I got a C."

Curious, Susie asks, "Why on earth would you rather get a C than an A?!"

Too which Calvin smugly replies "I find my life is a lot easier the lower I keep everyone's expectations."

18. Two Kinds of Preaching

Illustration

Scott Hoezee

Frederick Buechner once wrote about two kinds of preaching that just don't work very well. One form is what he termed "tourist preaching." You know how it is if you are in a foreign country as a tourist but cannot speak the native language: what do you end up doing when you have to ask for directions? You speak in English but each time you repeat yourself, you say it a little louder. We operate on the assumption that if only we speak English loudly, slowly, and distinctly enough, everyone in the world will be able to understand us. It doesn't work that way. The only language people understand is their own. We need to be sure that when we talk to people about God, it is in speech they can comprehend.

The other kind of preaching that fails to connect, Buechner says, is "algebraic preaching." x + y = z is a pretty typical algebra formula. If you know what number is represented by just the "y" of that problem, you know a little something but still won't likely solve the whole equation. If you know what both the "y" and the "z" are, then you can get the "x" pretty quickly. The problem with some preachers is that they lace their sentences with words like "atonement" and "righteousness," thinking that this will lead people to love Jesus. But for a lot of people, theological vocabulary is like an undefined "x" and "y" in an algebra problem: they are going to need something more to grasp the meaning of it all.

19. God Is Here with Us

Illustration

Elie Wiesel

In his book NIGHT, Elie Wiesel wrote of the year he spent in Auschwitz, where both his parents and his sister died and where he witnessed unspeakable horrors. He told of one terrible evening when the whole camp was forced to witness the hanging of three prisoners. One of them was just a child whose crime was stealing bread. Wiesel said the boy had the face of a sad angel. When the three victims were being prepared for execution, a man behind Wiesel asked, "Where is God?" As the whole camp was forced to march past the gallows where the two adults were no longer alive, but the boy was still dying, Wiesel heard the same man behind him asking, "Where is God now?" Ellie Wiesel said he heard a voice in himself answer him, "Where is God? God is here, hanging on this gallows...." (Wiesel, Ellie, Night, Bantam Books, pg. 61-62)

The incarnate God in Christ, who himself died an ignominious death on a cross, is always with us. He does not leave us alone in life or in death, in the best or the worst times. God shows up at the strangest times and in the strangest people.

20. Closing the Chasm

Illustration

John Claypool

Many years ago, I was walking in the farm that has belonged to my father's family in Kentucky for many generations, and I happened to looked down and I saw this giant anthill. There must have been thousands of these little creatures scurrying back and forth. It was a world unto itself. And as I looked down, I thought to myself, given the capacity of an ant, they have no way of understanding something as big and complex as a human being. If they were aware of me at all, I must have loomed over them as some kind of ominous presence. Then it dawned on me that if I had the power to somehow become an ant and yet take into that new condition as much of the reality of a human being as would be possible - in other words, if I could cross this chasm of otherness from my side - then it would be possible for ants to understand the human in ways that they could never have known before.

As I walked away, I began to realize that the chasm between an ant and a human being, vast as it is, is nothing to compare between the chasm between a human being and this mysterious, divine reality that gives life. And I realized that we are as incapable of understanding God on our own as an ant would be incapable of understanding us.

21. God Became Human!

Illustration

John Claypool

Someone gave me a little book by J. B. Phillips entitled, When God Was Man, for a Christmas present. At any rate, I was reading the book in the days that followed the holiday, and happened to leave it open on a chair in our den. We went out that evening. A lady in the community who had baby-sat for us was there with our little boy. When we came home about 11:00 o'clock, I could tell as soon as I entered the house that the baby sitter was very excited. She picked up my book, which she had found on the den chair, and began to wave it around, and said, "Is this true? When did it happen? What was He like?"

Well to be honest, I was taken aback because I knew this person; I realized that she was very active in a church in our community; she even sang in the choir, and, therefore, I was surprised that title would have come as such a shock to her. But as we began to talk, I discovered that was, in fact, the case. For all her years of churchly activity, somehow the word had never reached her that, at one point in history, God did become a human being; that is, the One who is eternal entered time; the One who had always inhabited the heavens chose to come and live as a human being upon this earth.

22. Called to Obey Love

Illustration

James Garrett

Kierkegaard tells a fable of a king who fell in love with a maid. When asked, "How shall I declare my love?" his counselors answered, "Your majesty has only to appear in all the glory of your royal glory before the maid's humble dwelling and she will instantly fall at your feet and be yours."

But it was precisely that which troubled the king. He wanted her glorification, not his. In return for his love he wanted hers, freely given. Finally, the king realized love's truth, that freedom for the beloved demanded equality with the beloved. So late one night, after all the counselors of the palace had retired, he slipped out a side door and appeared before the maid's cottage dressed as a servant.

This fable closely aligns with the Christmas story. We are called to obey not God's power, but God's love. God wants not submission to his power, but in return for his love, our own.

God moved in. He pitches his fleshly tent in silence on straw, in a stable, under a star. The cry from that infant's throat pierced the silence of centuries. God's voice could actually be heard coming from human vocal cords.

That's the joy of it. God has come to be with us!

23. Why Do We Try to Know It All?

Illustration

Kenneth W. Collins

It seems to be a relatively late hobby, peculiar to western Christianity, to contrive a sort of ‘unified field theory' of the Bible that can include all facts and explain all things. That, of course, would require us to comprehend God. However, a mind can only comprehend something less complex than itself—so if we could comprehend God, He would not be God. For this reason, the historic Church teaches that we can know God, but we cannot comprehend Him, much as a husband might jokingly complain that he knows his wife quite well, but he can't begin to understand her.

St. Cyril of Jerusalem, who died in 386, explained this teaching in his Catechetical Lectures: "Is it really true that because I cannot drink the whole river I will not take water from it in moderation for my benefit? If, when going into some great garden, I cannot eat all the fruits, would you wish that I go away from it completely hungry?" St. Augustine, Bishop of Hippo, who died in 430, was contemplating this same topic while walking along the seashore. He saw a small boy scooping water from the sea with a seashell and pouring it into a pit in the sand. He noticed that it is impossible for the boy to scoop up all the sea, but it is possible for him to know the sea by scooping it.

Why do we ignore the plain teachings of scripture and attempt to know all things? Scripture plainly teaches that our knowledge is not complete, and if our knowledge is not complete, it means we will always have puzzles.

24. Mary Had the Little Lamb

Illustration

Marv & Marbeth Rosenthal

Mary Had The Little Lamb

Mary had the little Lamb, who lived before His birth;
Self-existent Son of God, from Heaven He came to Earth.
Micah 5:2

Mary had the little Lamb; see Him in yonder stall
Virgin-born Son of God, to save man from the Fall.
Isaiah 7:14

Mary had the little Lamb, obedient Son of God;
Everywhere the Father led, His feet were sure to trod.
John 6:38

Mary had the little Lamb, crucified on the tree
The rejected Son of God, He died to set men free.
1 Peter 1:18

Mary had the little Lamb men placed Him in the grave,
Thinking they were done with Him; to death He was no slave!
Matthew 28:6

Mary had the little Lamb, ascended now is He;
All work on Earth is ended, our Advocate to be.
Hebrews 4:14-16

Mary had the little Lame mystery to behold!
From the Lamb of Calvary, a Lion will unfold.
Revelation 5: 5,6

When the Day Star comes again, of this be very sure:
It won't be Lamb-like silence, but with the Lion's roar.
Psalm 2:12
Revelation 19:11-16

25. King of the Poor

Illustration

Staff

Long ago, there ruled in Persia a wise and good king. He loved his people. He wanted to know how they lived. He wanted to know about their hardships. Often he dressed in the clothes of a working man or a beggar, and went to the homes of the poor. No one whom he visited thought that he was their ruler. One time he visited a very poor man who lived in a cellar. He ate the coarse food the poor man ate. He spoke cheerful, kind words to him. Then he left. Later he visited the poor man again and disclosed his identity by saying, "I am your king!" The king thought the man would surely ask for some gift or favor, but he didn't. Instead he said, "You left your palace and your glory to visit me in this dark, dreary place. You ate the course food I ate. You brought gladness to my heart! To others you have given your rich gifts. To me you have given yourself!"

God is willing to make most any accommodation to have fellowship with us. Even becoming human.

26. Merry Xmas

Illustration

David E. Leininger

For years folks have complained about that "XMAS" abbreviation. They shout, "Keep Christ in Christmas," decrying the commercialization of the whole season as much as the use of "X." Half of the complaint is valid. No one would deny that the season has been taken over by the wizards of mass marketing in their quest to be the first-est with the most-est. Most of us remember the not too distant past when Christmas advertising began on the day after Thanksgiving. Now we get it in late September. I am told that buyers for the major retail chains begin their search for Christmas merchandise in February and March. There is no question as to the over-commercialization of Christmas.

As to the other part of the complaint...the X...there is less validity. To the English-speaking world, X is simply the twenty-fourth letter of the alphabet. But to the Greeks, the ones in whose language the New Testament was written, those diagonally-crossed lines are the letter "Chi," the first letter in the name "Christos," which in Greek means Messiah. Through the years it has been an acceptable abbreviation for Christ. The early Church used it as an abbreviation for Jesus. If you look at the lecture notes I took years ago in seminary, you will see it all over the place. Perhaps next time you tell someone Merry Christmas you could wish them Happy Chi-mas.

To backtrack a moment, I am less than accurate when I say that "X" to us is only a letter of the alphabet. Any math student would happily correct me. In algebra, it represents an unknown: 2+3=X, 3x3=X. But in Christianity X represents someone you do know.

27. What Is Light?

Illustration

William G. Carter

You can sit in physics class and learn a lot of things about light. Ask Stephen Hawking, who holds the Newton chair at Cambridge. He will tell you that light is the ultimate constant in the universe, that it always travels at 186,282 miles per second, that light transmits energy, radiation, and information. Or ask a third-grader to put a sunbeam through a prism and you will see the spectrum of a rainbow. Physics can tell us a great deal about light. But there’s one thing physics has never explained, namely, what exactly do we mean by that word “light”? What is it? We know it when we see it, but we can’t really explain what it is. Unlike space or time, light cannot be defined over against anything else. Light simply exists. What does it mean for Jesus to say, “I am the light of the world”?

28. Cleansed by the Light

Illustration

William G. Carter

Pastor William G. Carter tells the story about a boy named Tom, and a particular night when he was a teenager. He and his friends were walking around the neighborhood. It was a warm night and very dark. Suddenly one of them saw a police car and shouted. They hadn’t done anything wrong, but they didn’t want to be seen, either. So they began to run. The police car saw them and watched them turn down an alley. Tom tripped and knocked over some trashcans. The police officers got out the car and began to go after them. One of the officers turned on a searchlight. Tom looked around for his friends, but didn’t see them. All he saw was that burning, searing searchlight, looking for him.

Tom jumped behind those trashcans, only to find his friends huddled there. With frantic energy they tried to hide, pulling trash over their heads and hoping to blend in. The spotlight fell on Tom. “Come out where we can see you,” said the voice behind the light. Tom stood up where he was, covered in garbage.

“What are you doing?” said the voice.

Tom stammered, “Nothing.”

The voice said, “I can’t hear you. What are you doing?”

Tom said, “Officer, I wasn’t doing anything wrong; I saw the light, I ran, I knocked over these garbage cans. I’m sorry about the disturbance.” The searchlight was beaming into his eyes, blinding him. He stood there in the light with nowhere to hide.

Then the voice said, “I think I recognize you. Don’t you live around the corner?”

“Yes,” he stammered. His heart was racing, and he thought to himself, “My life is ruined. If I don’t get arrested for disturbing the peace, something worse will happen: this officer is going to tell my parents.”

But then the voice behind the light said something unexpected. “Son, I’m not here to punish you; I’m here to protect you.” As he stood before that searchlight, Tom says he caught a glimpse of what it means to stand before Jesus, who is the Light of the World. There he was, fully exposed yet completely protected. He was fully revealed, yet free from unnecessary punishment. He stood hip-deep in garbage, yet cleaner than he had ever felt, somehow cleansed by a light that cast no shadow. In that moment, he saw something of what it means to stand in the presence of Jesus Christ, who is full of truth and full of grace.

29. The Inner Peace Virus

Illustration

Sharon Moon

There is an email going round that warns of a very powerful virus spreading in epidemic proportions. You might want to make sure you Norton Antivirus is up to date. The virus is called "Inner Peace." Be on the alert, it says, for symptoms of inner peace that could pose a serious threat to what has, up to now, been a fairly stable condition of conflict in the world. Some signs and symptoms of inner peace:

A tendency to think and act spontaneously rather than on fears based on past experiences.
An unmistakable ability to enjoy each moment.
A loss of interest in judging other people.
A loss of interest in interpreting the actions of others.
A loss of interest in conflict.
A loss of the ability to worry. (This is a very serious symptom.)
Frequent, overwhelming episodes of appreciation.
Contented feelings of connectedness with others and nature.
Frequent attacks of smiling.
An increasing tendency to let things happen rather than make them happen.
An increased susceptibility to the love extended by others as well as the uncontrollable urge to extend it.

The person sending that warning might have read our story of John the Baptist which also threatens an outbreak of joy and hope and light in a world that had long forgotten how to experience these things.

30. Christmas Light: His Name Is Jesus

Illustration

Walter W. Harms

We enjoy the Christmas lights that are so plentiful this time of year. The many, many outdoor decorations. The lit up, blown up snowmen and Santa Clauses in the front yards. A house in one neighborhood had over 10,000 lights in its front yard--several nativity sets, reindeer and Santas on the roofs, candy canes, lighted trees-flickering, following, static lights, even on the front of the pickup parked in the drive way with its glowing wreath.

As we begin to think about this message, the shadows of the not-so-late afternoon are cutting down on the warmth and the strength of the sun. It is almost winter, almost cold - almost.

We would like to think that the lights of trees, the outdoor displays, would do away with the darkness that surrounds us. It seems for a while to cause us to want to be helpful to the needy, the present-less, the homeless. More than coins hit the kettles of the Salvation Army collection tripods. Yet we know that next year the same problems - well, you don't have to wait until next year at Christmas, by January the old, the homeless, the hungry, the needy, the present-less will still be there.

The many lights do not make us any more cheerful as we struggle to be nice to the family members we really don't like or agree with, as we try to balance gift giving with credit card paying, as we want to provide warm homes and the tax bills need to be paid before the credit card bills arrive.

If we put on more lights at this time of year to cheer us and get us in the proper spirit to empty our wallets and max out our credit cards (if not there already!), is there really any point to it all? After all, all too soon we'll be storing all the lights away. Is there perhaps a light that really can take away, permanently - I think we would like it to be permanently - permanently take away the gloom, the sadness, the clouds that surround our lives that never seem to end?

John says there is. And his name is Jesus.

31. An Advance Man

Illustration

Paul E. Flesner

Many people don't realize the extent of the preparations involved when the President of the United States makes a visit to a local community. A raft of Secret Service personnel check out every building along the route he will travel and near the place he will be appearing. They go over each building with a fine tooth comb from roof to basement in their efforts to prepare for his safety. They are called "Advance Men." They work invisibly behind the scenes to make sure that everything is ready for the big event that is about to take place.

In today's Gospel we encounter an "advance man." However, he's not a member of the Secret Service. He's not preparing for a visit from a head of state. He's not checking out parade routes to assure their safety. He is telling us to get ready for a visit from the most important person in human history. His name is John the Baptist. We are told that "he came as a witness to testify to the light." He is God's Advance Man.

32. The Word Became Flesh

Illustration

Paul E. Flesner

If John's Gospel were the only one we had, there would be no little town of Bethlehem. There'd be no shepherds out in their fields. There would be no manger and no virgin birth. No north star and no creche. If John is all we had here is all that we would know about Jesus' birth: before his name was Jesus, his name was the Word, and he was with God from the very beginning of creation, bringing things into being, making things happen, shining light into the darkness.

He was God's self, God's soul, God's life force in the world. He was the breath inside all living things. He was the electric spark that charged peoples' hearts. He was the fire inside the sun. He was the space between the stars. He was the axis around which the galaxies spin.

John goes on to say that not everyone got that message. Many were blinded by this light and preferred the darkness they knew to the light which they did not know. The Word sidled up to them and hummed life into their ears, but they cleared their throats and walked away. So God decided to speak in a new way. God decided to speak body language. "And the Word became flesh and lived among us full of grace and truth."

This is John's Christmas story in a nutshell. Like Luke, John is telling us about an encounter with the Holy One. God's Word was translated into a human being. God's self, soul, and life force were concentrated into one mortal life on earth, and as a result, nothing would ever be the same again. Not because everyone listened, because everyone does not, but because the eternal Word of God took human form.

33. At the Beginning of Time

Illustration

Paul E. Flesner

The New Testament uses two different words for time. God operates in kairos, a Greek word which means the "fullness of time." We operate in chronos, the Greek word which means the passage of minutes, days, years, centuries, and even millenniums.

For example: Mary did not give birth to Jesus on December 25 at 12:06 a.m. as we are prone to say in our society when a baby is born. Rather, the Bible says it happened when "the time came for her to be delivered" (i.e., the "fullness of time" for her pregnancy).

The opening words of today's Gospel couldn't be more appropriate for the first Sunday of a new year. If our New Year celebrations are about finding meaning in the passage of time, John starts his Gospel by taking us back to the beginning of time.

Note: In ancient Greek the word Kairos (καιρός) meant the right, critical, or opportune time for action. Chronos (χρόνος) was the word for standard time. The time of day in minutes, hours, and days. It might be a little over dramatic to say God works in Kairos time, as if there is something magical about the "moment" God chooses. God acts as he will and his decision is the right time. One time is not God's and the other ours, because even farmers operate in kairos time when it comes to planting and harvesting.

34. Beauty and Grace

Illustration

Thomas Long

In her book, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Annie Dillard told about seeing a mockingbird dive straight down off the roof of a four-story building. "It was an act as careless and spontaneous as the curl of a stem ..." she wrote. The mockingbird, wings held tightly against its body, descending at 32 feet per second toward the earth, spread his wings at the last possible second and floated onto the ground. Dillard said she spotted this amazing display just as she rounded a corner. No one else was there to witness it. She connected the event to the old philosophical question about the tree falling in the forest. If no one were there to hear it, goes the conundrum, would it make a sound? "The answer must be," she stated, "... I think, that beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will sense them. The least we can do is try to be there."

Because in Jesus Christ the Word became flesh, truth and grace are at work in every place, whether or not we sense them. What we can do, of course, is to attempt to master the theme and then to try to be there wherever in life it is played anew.

35. Letting God Bless You

Illustration

Joel D. Kline

In his book Letting God Bless You John Killinger concludes with the challenge:

Permit God to bless you. Don't look around you and think how hard life is. Look around and see how filled with mystery and goodness it is. See how wonderful the world looks when you know God is at work redeeming it and setting up the anti-structures, so that humility and purity and compassion and longing for justice and peace will all be fulfilled and rewarded in the eternal scheme of things.

Give thanks to God for the richness of existence.

Then look around to see who you can share it with.

That will make you even richer.

If you will learn to live this way every day, you will always have a song in your heart and the path before you will be lined with flowers. Joy will spring up inside you like a fountain, and you will lie down to sleep at night with peace in your soul. And you will say, "Blessed be the name of our God forever and ever, who calls us to a new rule where righteousness will be the order of the day forever!"

This Advent season, my friends, let us make the critical choice of permitting God to bless us and to fill us with a new sense of hope and purposeful living. Let us live in the assurance that the present darkness is not our final destination, that there is indeed much more yet to come. Along the way we will begin to experience joy springing up within us like a fountain. Thanks be to God, who blesses us with love and grace beyond measure.

36. Waiting for More

Illustration

Joel D. Kline

Some Christians make their faith sound so simple. Find Jesus, they assert, be saved, and that will take care of everything. All will be finished, done, complete, settled. But to embrace the light and love of Christ is just the beginning. It is a significant step, but only a beginning. We must then struggle with the presence of darkness, even as we affirm God's gift of light. We must then grapple with the challenge to be co-creators with God as we anticipate that new creation.

William Willimon, dean of the chapel at DukeUniversity, asserts:

Show me a person who is not waiting [for something more to come], not yearning, not leaning forward, standing on tiptoe for something better, and I will show you a person who has given up hope for anything better, someone who has settled down too comfortably in present arrangements. And that's sad. The future belongs to those who wait, for those who know we are meant for something better. The present darkness is not our final destination.

37. The Arrival of Hope

Illustration

Joel D. Kline

Alan Paton's novel, Cry, the Beloved Country, is the story of a black South African pastor, Stephen Kumalo, who travels from his small village of Ntodsheni to the city of Johannesburg, to find his son Jonathan. Jonathan had gone to the city to find employment, but while there had gotten involved with the wrong crowd, and when Pastor Kumalo finds his son, Jonathan is in jail for killing a white lawyer named Arthur Jarvis. In an intriguing turn of events, we learn that Arthur had been a leading advocate for the rights of black Africans and had just finished writing a book about the need for justice in that hate-torn nation.

In his grief the pastor goes to the father of Arthur Jarvis, to apologize for his son's crime. The elder Jarvis little agreed with his son's passion for working against the evils of apartheid. But in the aftermath of Arthur's death, the father struggles to make sense of the changes in his son's perspective that had set him on such a markedly different course in life. As a result, the father reads and rereads his son's manuscript. And that seems to explain what enabled the elder Jarvis not to berate or reject Pastor Kumalo, but instead to receive him kindly. In the days and weeks that follow, the elder Jarvis continues to embrace a new perspective, eventually promising to erect a new church building for the congregation Pastor Kumalo serves. Further, the elder Jarvis offers to build a dam for the village of Ntodsheni, so that the people might have year-round access to fresh water.

The very rumor of what is to be done sends a shock wave of hope throughout the village. There will now be water for irrigation. The people will be able to raise cattle. And because there will be abundant food and milk for their families, the young people of the village will no longer have to drift off to the cities to find work. There will be laughter and singing and dancing once again. Nothing had yet happened, and yet the village is transformed, as if the changes have already occurred. Writes Alan Paton, "Although nothing has come yet, something is here already."

The Gospel writers portray John the Baptist as one who raised the hopes of the ancient people of Israel, pointing the way to the coming of the Messiah, the One so much greater than John that the Baptist feels unworthy even to untie his sandals. As the Baptist begins his ministry, nothing has yet happened; and yet, in their anticipation of more yet to come, the people begin to respond as if the long-awaited Messiah were already present.

38. Christmas as a Prisoner of War

Illustration

Thomas A. Pilgrim

It was the Christmas of 1968. Gerald Coffee was spending his third Christmas in prison. His Vietnamese guards gave some candy to him and to his fellow prisoners-of-war. He heard the guards outside talking and laughing with their families, celebrating Christmas. One of the guards had a son who was about three or four. Coffee thought of his own children back home. He ate the candy and looked at the red and silver foil. He began to form that foil into three shapes — a swan, a rosette, and a star. He thought of the star of Bethlehem. He placed those three shapes above his bed. He laid there looking at them. Then, he began thinking about the birth of Christ. He knew it was only faith that was getting him through this experience. He wrote later that in that place there was nothing to distract him from the awesomeness of Christmas, even though he had lost everything that defined who he was. He wrote, "Yet, I continued to find strength within. I realized that although I was hurting and lonely and scared, this might be the most significant Christmas of my life."

39. The Baby Jesus

Illustration

Martin Luther

In a Christmas sermon on the Incarnation, Martin Luther said, "I would not have you contemplate the deity of Christ, the majesty of Christ, but rather his flesh. Look upon the Baby Jesus. Divinity may terrify man. Inexpressible majesty will crush him. That is why Christ took on our humanity, save for sin, that he should not terrify us but rather that with love and favor He should console and confirm."

40. Jesus, The Light of the World

Illustration

John H. Townsend

Jesus is nothing less then the light of the world. This was plainly seen by thousands of people during the American influenza epidemic of 1918. During the height of that plague, churches and all public gathering places were ordered closed. Yet more than ever, it was then that people needed hope and consolation. Burdened by his inability to reach out to people in their time of need, one resourceful pastor thought of the magnificent stained glass windows that graced his church. Those windows faced a major thoroughfare and were large and commanding in design. He had numerous floodlights placed inside the church; illumination through the glass to the outside world gave passers-by the full effect of the window's story.

There for all to see were the matchless portrayals of Jesus: Jesus the good shepherd bearing a lamb on his bosom; Jesus the searching Savior rescuing the lone lost sheep while the ninety-nine rested safely on the fold; Jesus praying in Gethsemane; Jesus on the cross; Jesus triumphant in Resurrection glory. The silent sermons of light and stained glass spoke an eloquent message.

The Gospel of John puts it this way: The true light that gives light of every man was coming into the world. People who passed by the church would stop reverently, silently. They found themselves filled with new resolve and encouragement. They saw ever more clearly in that age of sickness the light of Christ glory which was coming into the world.

41. A Parable of Christmas Eve

Illustration

Michael Daves

There lived a king who had power over all nations and peoples. His courts were of richest splendor; his tables were heavy with finest food. Music and laughter and gaiety floated from his castle. Clouds wrapped it in ethereal majesty. Peasants—in their valley of violence and hunger—stopped and looked at the castle for a long while, wishing they might know the king. But none were able to reach it.

In the cold of winter, the king's tailor entered the royal chambers with the latest additions to the king's wardrobe. He had selected the finest materials and woven them into the most beautiful garments that eyes had ever seen.

But the king was not pleased. He ordered his tailor out, vowing to make his own clothes. The door to the throne room was shut and locked. Weeks passed. The royal court waited with anticipation to see what the king would make for himself. They knew they were bound to be blinded by the glory of it. Finally the awaited day arrived. The door opened and the king appeared.

Everyone, especially the tailor, gasped in surprise. His Majesty was dressed in the simplest, cheapest, most unkingly garments imaginable. He had the choice of the world's finest materials, but he had chosen to wear the clothes of a beggar.

He spoke quietly to them all: "I am going into the valley!"

42. Preparing the Way, Preparing Our Hearts

Illustration

Scott Hoezee

All four gospels talk about John the Baptist and his fiery message of repentance. Two of the four gospels do not mention Jesus' birth at all. But Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John all recognized that no gospel would be complete without John the Baptist. A gospel may skip Christmas but it may not skip John. Why? Because as Zechariah knew already when John was just eight days old, John was going to be the necessary advance man to get the world ready to receive Jesus. If Jesus was the one who would plant the mustard seed of the kingdom into the soil of this world, then John was to be the one who did the hard work of plowing the soil to get ready for that planting. John would be the one who would sink down his plow blade into human hearts that were the spiritual equivalent of a parched field whose dirt had long ago hardened into something resembling concrete.

If Jesus was God's divine Visitor to this world, then John was the one who was sent to prepare the way. Because God knew and John the Baptist knew: how the visit of God's Son would be received would very much depend on people's situation. If they were eager to hear the good news that God's tender mercies were available to forgive their sins, then they'd be glad to hear just that message from the lips of Jesus. But if people didn't think they had a problem with sin, then the visit of God's Son would be merely annoying and a waste of their time. John worked overtime to ensure that no one had that reaction.

43. We Interrupt This Service

Illustration

Brett Blair

It was question and answer time at the worship workshop. Pastor and Author Thomas Long had been speaking on the theme of worship all morning to a group of people gathered in a church fellowship hall in a suburban neighborhood in Indiana. Dressed in sweatshirts and jeans, they had given up a Saturday of golf and gardening to sip coffee and listen politely as he rambled through discussions of Vatican II, Calvin's view of the Lord's Supper, the pros and cons of children's sermons, the development of the lectionary, the meanings of baptism, and other assorted topics about worship. Now, the lecturing done, he gulped down a little coffee and asked if there were any questions.

A hand shot into the air. It belonged to a fiftyish man with plump cheeks and rimless glasses who was, judging by the way his hand waved and bobbed, eager to speak. "There's one thing about our worship service here which really gripes me," he complained. "To me it's like fingernails being scraped

across a blackboard."

"What's that?" he cautiously asked, fully expecting him to say something about gender inclusive language, newfangled hymns, politics in the pulpit, or sermons on tithing. But it was not one of these issues which caused his aggravation.

"The announcements," he declared. "I just hate it when the minister spoils the mood of worship with all those dull announcements." Heads bobbed in vigorous agreement all around the room. The announcements were out of favor in that corner of Indiana, no question about it.

Thomas Long said he knew what the man meant. You're soaring above the pews on Sunday, your wings catching the strong breeze of the Spirit carrying you upward from "Joy to the World" toward the choir's lofty "For Unto Us a Child is Born," and then, thud ... the Christian Education Committee will meet in the library on Thursday at 7:30 .... " Like Icarus striving for the sun, you

find your wax wings suddenly melting, and you plummet back to the world of flesh, dust, and committee meetings.

The announcements do seem like a bag of peanuts at the opera, an ungainly moment of mundanity wedging its way into an hour of inspiration. What he tried to say to the questioner was that he understood how he felt and that, yes, the announcements were often rattled off without care or passion, and, yes, they did sometimes seem to be somewhat uninspiring, but that, after all, the details of the church's institutional life were important, and five minutes of them couldn't hurt, and so on.

After the meeting Rev. Long realized he blew it. He didn’t give the right answer. What he should have said is that, properly understood, the announcements are one of those places where the rubber of the church's theology hits the road. Indeed, it just may be that by moving seamlessly from "Holy, Holy, Holy" to "the telephone crisis counseling ministry is in need of additional volunteers," by punctuating its soaring praise with the commas of the earthy details of its common life, the church is expressing in its worship one of its most basic convictions about the character of God:

"The Word became flesh and dwelt among us....

44. Waiting - Sermon Starter

Illustration

Brett Blair

As a child I remember that the most difficult part of Christmas was simply waiting for it to come. From Thanksgiving to December 25 seemed more like an eternity than a month. Days seemed like weeks. Weeks felt like seasons. Time seemed to stand still.

Waiting is foreign to our society. It seems unnatural. We hunger for immediate gratification. The idea of delayed satisfaction is a stranger to our thinking.

The symbols of our unwillingness to wait are all around us. Fast food chains boom because we don't have time to eat. We stand in crooked lines, then yell out an order, get it down in five minutes and then get back to the rat race. We haven't got time to sit down and read a book anymore. Perhaps it is a sign of the times that we have condensed versions of the Bible. In kitchens all over America there are gadgets to get the meal prepared quickly. I would guess Mr. Coffee started it all. Simply spoon in the coffee and pour water. The coffee is made before you can even find a cup. When we become sick we want to be made well now, not later. Medicine, doctors, pastoral care and love are often rejected if they are not swift.

I, like you, accept most of our no—wait approach to life, with the exception of instant potatoes, which are intolerable. But the truth is that, though we do not like waiting, waiting is a part of living. We must wait for payday, a break, quitting time, and for the mailman. When you do your Christmas shopping, you had certainly better be prepared to wait in a line to get checked out, wait to get a parking place, and wait through at least four red lights before making a left hand turn on Poplar Ave.

But there are also very serious matters for which we wait. Some wait for health to return, some for the coming of food stamps, some for marriage or remarriage. We must wait for peace. A scared child waits for the coming of morning, and a scared adult awaits death. And an expectant mother waits for delivery. Waiting can be pure agony. It's like the jury is out.

The problem is that scripture time and time again tells us that God's clock is wound in a different way. Time is different to him. We look at seconds; he looks at the ages. Waiting, not hurrying is one of his characteristics. And this waiting God tells his people that often, they too must wait.

And that is where the story of Christmas really begins. It begins thousands of years before the birth of Christ. They longed for that one who would bring light out of darkness, and make the blind to see. They

Longed for that one who would turn their sorrow into joy, and vanquish their enemies. But, God said, you must wait. Let us look at how God's people have waited throughout the ages…

1. Waiting in the Old Testament
2. John the Baptist's Waiting
3. The Waiting in Advent

45. Planting the Seeds

Illustration

Brett Blair

There was a woman once who wanted peace in the world and peace in her heart, but she was very frustrated. The world seemed to be falling apart and her personal life wasn't that great either. One day she decided to go shopping, and she went to the mall and walked in to one of the stores. She was surprised to see Jesus behind the counter. She knew it was Jesus because he looked just like the paintings she'd seen in museums and in devotional books. Finally she got up her nerve and asked, "Excuse me, but are you Jesus?" "I am." "Do you work here?" "In a way; I own the store." "Oh, what do you sell here?" "Just about everything," Jesus replied. "Feel free to walk up and down the aisles, make a list, see what it is you want, and then come back and I'll see what I can do for you."

Well, she did just that. She walked up and down the aisles, writing furiously. There was peace on earth, no more war, no hunger or poverty. There was peace in families, harmony, no dissension, no more drugs. There careful use of resources. By the time she got back to the counter, she had a long list. Jesus looked over the list, then smiled at her and said, "No problem." And then he bent down behind the counter and picked out all sorts of things, and finally stood up, and laid out the packets on the counter. "What are these?" the woman asked. "Seed packets," Jesus answered. "This is a catalog store." "You mean I don't get the finished product?" "No, this is a place of dreams. You come and see what it looks like, and I give you the seeds. You go home and plant the seeds. You water them and nurture them and help them to grow, and someday someone else reaps the benefits." "Oh," she said, deeply disappointed. She turned and left. The seeds still on the counter.

John understood at least initially that he was planting the seeds. The message is we must wait. Are you willing to do the work and wait?

46. Divine Humility

Illustration

King Duncan

Two hundred years ago there was another man named John, a preacher of extraordinary power and influence in England and America. We know John Wesley as the founder of the Methodists. Surprisingly, however, Wesley was not the most popular preacher of his day. A man named George Whitefield preached to far more people than Wesley, baptized many more into the Kingdom of God and was a favorite of such prominent Americans as Benjamin Franklin.

Whitefield and Wesley were the best of friends until they had a severe falling out over Whitefield's strict adherence to Calvinist doctrine. Whitefield was asked following this falling out, "Do you expect that you will see John Wesley in heaven?"

"No," answered Whitefield.

"That's what I thought you would say," his questioner replied.

"But you don't know what I mean," said Whitefield. "Wesley will be so far up there near the great Throne, I will never see him."

Such an answer takes a certain kind of divine humility.

John the Baptist, in spite of his own popularity, sought to direct attention not to himself but to Jesus. That kind of humility is a rare commodity.

47. Lighting the First Step

Illustration

King Duncan

A high school principal urging graduates to go to college insisted that they should at least start college, and gave them a simple illustration. A very rough road ran from the school to the town. It was a dark night as he spoke to them but the principal explained that one does not need a great searchlight shining all the way to walk the road safely. All one needs is a very small light shining one step ahead. When that step is taken, the light moves up and reveals the next step. He was encouraging them at least to make a beginning.

So it is with seeking to do God's will. Most of us know what our next step should be. If we take that step, we will be delighted to see the Lord's light moving along ahead of us!

48. The 10th Lamp

Illustration

King Duncan

On July 23, 2002, nine miners in Western Pennsylvania became trapped in a flooded mine. The injured and desperate men tied themselves together so that the stronger ones could sustain the weaker ones as they waited to be rescued. Journalists from across the nation reported the rescue effort, which took five long days. No one could believe it when all nine miners emerged safely from the mine.

On July 30, the people of the small mining community gathered for a worship service to thank God for saving the miners' lives. At the ceremony, there were ten miners' lamps set up on the altar, even though there were only nine miners. According to the pastor who presided over the worship celebration, the tenth lamp represented God's presence, which the miners claimed they could feel as they waited to be rescued. It was this "10th Man" they honored as they read Psalm 103: "Praise the Lord . . . Who redeems your life from the pit." Welcome to this celebration of our "tenth man" the One who has rescued us from the pit.

49. Sacrifice for Discipleship

Illustration

King Duncan

Millions of Christians have been inspired by the life and death of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German pastor and theologian who was killed during World War II.

Bonhoeffer was as outspoken concerning the sins of Adolf Hitler as John the Baptist was about the sins of Herod. Friends in the United States and England, knowing the probable consequences of opposing Hitler, arranged for Bonhoeffer to leave Germany. After a few months, however, Bonhoeffer knew he must return to his homeland. There he preached ever more strongly against what was happening to his people. Needless to say, he aroused great opposition. Soon he was forced to go underground. Later he was imprisoned. There he was executed.

Out of his struggles he wrote a monumental work, The Cost of Discipleship. It stands as an eternal judgment of those who want Christ but do not want to bear a cross. John the Baptist understood the cost of discipleship. He knew what it was to sacrifice everything in answer to God's call.

50. The Adoration of the Shepherds

Illustration

King Duncan

Pastor Earl Palmer of the First Presbyterian Church of Berkeley tells about Rembrandt’s painting called The Adoration of the Shepherds:

“This is Rembrandt’s interpretation of the visit of the shepherds to the babe in Bethlehem. It is a simple scene in a stable. In the foreground are the mother and child, with Joseph in the shadows in the background. Peering into the manger where the babe is lying are the shepherds, with their sheep scattered around them. They could not leave the sheep in the field, they had to bring them along. Arching above the manger the artist has painted a ladder which suggests, in the shadows it casts, the form of a cross. Rembrandt was too great a painter just to put a cross in, with no justification in terms of the picture itself, but the ladder subtly suggests it. And on the beam against which the ladder rests is a rooster, the symbol of betrayal. The artist is suggesting that it is by means of the crushing inner agony of betrayal, and the outer agony of crucifixion, that the One in the manger would become the world’s Deliverer and Redeemer.

“But the striking thing about the picture is that the light illuminating the whole scene is not coming from outside but from the manger where the babe is lying. There is no halo over the babe, such as medieval painters often employed, but the light which illuminates the faces looking in is streaming from the manger. Their faces are put into sharp relief as they look down, and you can see that the light is coming from the babe himself. That is Rembrandt’s very remarkable way of saying that the story of Christmas is the story of light in darkness.”

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