Twilight before sunrise (Gen. 19:15; Job 3:9; cf. Prov. 4:18). People typically slept from dusk to dawn (but see Judg. 19:25; 1 Sam. 14:36), beginning activity at sunrise (Judg. 16:2; Neh. 4:21; Dan. 6:19). The psalmist and Jesus pray before dawn (Ps. 119:147; Mark 1:35). Jesus was raised from the dead before dawn (Mark 16:2), making the time a symbol of the resurrection (2 Pet. 1:19).

In the OT, “morning star” may indicate a star (Job 3:9) or celestial beings in general; for example, “morning stars” is parallel to “angels” (lit., “sons of God”; see NIV mg.) in Job 38:7. In a passage addressed to the king of Babylon, Isa. 14:12–13 describes him as the “morning star [ESV, NRSV: “Day Star”], son of the dawn” who spoke presumptuously and fell from heaven. The KJV instead translates the term as “Lucifer,” a name that has traditionally been applied to Satan (see also Lucifer). NT imagery associates the brilliant morning star with the dawn of the messianic kingdom of David fulfilled in Jesus (2 Pet. 1:19 [KJV: “day star”]; cf. Num. 24:17; Isa. 60:1–3), promising the morning star to those who overcome (Rev. 2:28). In Rev. 22:16, Jesus identifies himself as the “bright Morning Star.”

Using a folklorist definition of fable as a story in which animals, plants, or inanimate objects take on human characteristics (i.e., are anthropomorphized), we can identify at least two fable stories in the OT. In Judg. 9:8–15 Jotham uses a fable to point out to the Shechemites their folly in asking Abimelek to be their king. In 2 Kings 14:9 King Jehoash of Israel uses a fable to point out to King Amaziah of Judah his folly in challenging Jehoash to a battle. Some have suggested that the allegory in Ezek. 17:1–10 could also be considered as a fable, but there is no anthropomorphizing in that passage.

Fable, more broadly defined as a fantastically incredible story, having no correspondence to reality, is used in some English translations to render the Greek word mythos (NIV: “myth”) in 1 Tim. 1:4; 4:7; 2 Tim. 4:4; Titus 1:14; 2 Pet. 1:16. Peter, in particular, denies that the apostles’ accounts about Jesus are fables.

In Christian theology, the Third Person of the Trinity. The usage derives from the NT, in which the divine Spirit is treated as an independent person who is instrumental in salvation and is worthy of the praise accorded to both the Father and the Son (John 14:16–23; Rom. 8:26–27; 1 Pet. 1:2).

Old Testament

The scarcity of the phrase “Holy Spirit” in the OT (only in Ps. 51:11; Isa. 63:10–11) does not imply lack of interest or importance. While it should be recognized that in the OT the person of the Holy Spirit receives nothing like the systematic reflection found in the NT, when one includes correlative terms, such as “Spirit of God,” “my Spirit,” “wind,” or “breath,” it is apparent that OT writers attributed great significance to God’s Spirit. Thus, the Spirit was at work in the beginning of creation (Gen. 1:2). Adam and Eve are uniquely given life by the breath of God (Gen. 2:7). The Spirit enables the building of the tabernacle (Exod. 31:3), gives voice to the message of the prophets (Num. 11:29; cf. 2 Pet. 1:21), empowers Israel’s leaders (1 Sam. 16:13), and provides access to God’s presence (Ps. 51:11). Yet in all this, the work of the Spirit in the OT is sporadic, occasional, and localized. Thus, the prophets long for a new age when God’s people will more perfectly enjoy the Spirit’s presence (Isa. 32:15; 44:3; 61:1; Joel 2:28).

New Testament

The Spirit in the ministry of Christ. The NT views the OT prophetic hope for the Spirit as fulfilled in and through Jesus Christ (Luke 4:18–21). The unique relationship between God’s Holy Spirit and the person and work of Jesus explains the systemic reflection that the Holy Spirit receives in the NT. This is signaled at the very beginning of Jesus’ life, when the Holy Spirit “comes upon” Mary, overshadowing her with “the power of the Most High” (1:35). Similarly, at the start of Jesus’ public ministry, the Holy Spirit “descended on him” at baptism (3:22). This anointing by the Spirit initiates and empowers Jesus’ public ministry, from his preaching, to his miraculous works, to his perfect obedience (Luke 4:14–18; John 3:34; Acts 10:38). Even his sacrificial death is accomplished by the power of the Holy Spirit (Heb. 9:14).

Significantly, just as the Holy Spirit empowered the life and death of Jesus, so too is the Spirit responsible for his resurrection and characteristic of his glorious reign. Death is not a defeat for Jesus: he is “vindicated by the Spirit” (1 Tim. 3:16), “appointed the Son of God in power by his resurrection from the dead” (Rom. 1:4; cf. 1 Pet. 3:18). Furthermore, at his resurrection, Jesus comes into a new phase of full and perfect possession of the eternal Spirit as the reward for his obedience. So complete is this union that Paul at one point claims that “the Lord is the Spirit” (2 Cor. 3:17).

The Spirit in the church and the believer. The church and its members are the immediate beneficiaries of Christ’s spiritual fullness. Since Jesus is now a “life-giving spirit” through his resurrection and ascension (1 Cor. 15:45), he is able to fulfill the promise of Spirit baptism (Luke 3:16). This baptism takes place in the outpouring of the Spirit at Pentecost, which marks the birth of the NT church. The apostles, illuminated by the Holy Spirit, provide true and powerful testimony about Jesus (John 16:4–15), testimony that serves as the church’s foundation and principal tradition (Eph. 2:20). The work of the Spirit continues within the church in the postapostolic age, uniting its members in Christ for God’s holy purpose (Eph. 2:22).

This same outpouring of the Holy Spirit is the salvation of individual believers. Believers receive the Spirit by faith (Gal. 3:14). The Spirit in turn unites them to Christ and all his benefits (Gal. 3:2; Eph. 1:3), including his life (Heb. 4:15–16), suffering (Phil. 1:29; 1 Pet. 4:14), death (Rom. 6:3), resurrection (Rom. 6:5), justification (Rom. 4:25), and glorious reign in heaven (Phil. 3:20). These benefits, though undoubtedly perfected and consummated only at Christ’s return (Phil. 1:6), are characteristic of believers’ present experience, enjoyed now because the Spirit dwells within them as the “firstfruits” of the harvest to come (Rom. 8:23; cf. Gal. 2:19–20). This indwelling of the Spirit results in new birth and new creation (2 Cor. 5:17), a newness identified with the life that Christ received in his resurrection (Rom. 8:11).

For this reason, believers are urged to further the work of the Spirit in their lives until the bodily resurrection of all God’s people. They are to cultivate the “fruit of the Spirit” (Gal. 5:22), and they are correspondingly warned not to “grieve the Holy Spirit” (Eph. 4:30). Furthermore, since new life is initiated by the Spirit (John 3:6–8), Christians are to remain in that Spirit, not turning aside in reliance on vain and useless principles (Gal. 3:1–5). Conversely, they are to be “filled with the Spirit” (Eph. 5:18), putting off the old person and putting on the new (4:22). This filling grounds every aspect of the believer’s life, from obedience, to worship, to the hope of resurrection. The Spirit, in uniting believers to all the riches of Christ and his resurrection, is therefore central in the work of salvation. See also Spirit.

“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.

Hermeneutics is the science and practice of interpretation. It can refer more generally to the philosophy of human understanding, or more specifically to the tools and methods used for interpreting communicative acts.

Human communication takes place in a variety of ways: through the use of nonverbal signs, through speech, and through writing. Effective communication requires some degree of shared belief, knowledge, and background between the participants. If the communicators have a significant amount of common ground, they will be able to successfully understand one another with little extra effort. Conversely, individuals with vastly different backgrounds will need to take extra steps to communicate effectively, such as defining special terms, avoiding jargon and colloquialisms, appreciating details about the other’s cultural assumptions, or learning a foreign language.

The Bible is not exempt from this process of communication. The Scriptures are meant to be read, understood, and put into practice (Luke 8:4–15; James 1:18), a task that requires effort and study on the part of its readers (Acts 17:11; 2 Tim. 2:15). Everyone who reads the Bible is involved in this interpretative process, though readers will vary in their hermeneutical self-consciousness and skill. Thus, although readers are able to understand and appropriate much of the Bible without any special training in hermeneutical principles, such training is appropriate and helpful, both in attaining self-consciousness in interpretation and in acquiring new skills and insights in the effort to become a better reader.

The Development of Hermeneutics

The church has benefited from a long history of thinking about the nature and purpose of interpreting its Scriptures, and that reflection has resulted in a wide variety of hermeneutical theories and practices. How does one determine the meaning of a text? Is meaning the truth embedded within the passage? Or is it the original author’s intention in writing? Or does the text act independently of its author and history, either because it stands on its own terms or because it only “means” anything in interaction with readers? The answers to these questions will determine how readers approach a text, the questions they expect that text to answer, and the tools they use in interpretation.

From the early church to the Enlightenment. The early church emphasized the ability of the biblical text to convey heavenly truth, whether that truth was conceived as doctrinal teaching or absolute ethical rules. While the “literal meaning” of many texts could often supply simple truths and maxims, such a reading was at other times inadequate and could appear incompatible with what were considered basic and fundamental beliefs. Various allegorical techniques were therefore employed to explain such problematic texts. Interpreters often viewed the literal and historical features of the text as a starting point in the search for fuller meaning, as symbolic pointers to moral principles, absolute truths, or eternal realities. These practices were systematized throughout the Middle Ages and resulted in an extensive development of tradition. Church tradition, in turn, provided a degree of protection from the potential for arbitrariness in allegorical techniques, insisting that interpretation must be guided by the “rule of faith,” the traditional teaching and faith of the church.

Beginning in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, scholarship moved to distance itself from such tradition. The Protestant Reformers, dissatisfied with the rule of church tradition, sought to displace its authority with the direct rule of Scripture. They therefore returned to the original biblical text, engaging in critical study of the text itself and translating the Bible into the vernacular to make it more widely accessible. In the centuries that followed, Enlightenment scholars went a step further in their rejection of the church as the sole repository of knowledge. Instead, they asserted, knowledge was acquired through scientific inquiry and critical study. Such inquiry could be applied to any field: the forces of nature, human anatomy, or the interpretation of texts. The meaning of a text was not some abstract truth or heavenly principle; rather, meaning was determined by the human author’s original intention in writing and was therefore a historical matter. The intention of an author could be better exposed and understood through a more complete study of both the language in which a text was written and the historical circumstances that surrounded it. Many of these same emphases had been championed by the Protestant Reformers; yet the Enlightenment thinkers differed on one key point: the Reformers never questioned that the text was the word of God.

From the Enlightenment to the present. This favorable attitude toward historical research dwindled over the centuries. In its place authors emphasized the primacy of the text as text, apart from any connection to its origin and history. Literature, it is argued, ultimately operates independently from its author’s intention. All that matters is the text, and it is the reader’s job to understand the text on its own terms, apart from the contingencies surrounding its creation. To that end, interpreters should pay careful attention to the text’s literary features, including its plot structure, characterization, themes, and use of imagery. An interesting example of this hermeneutical dynamic is found in John 19:22, where Pilate asserts, “What I have written, I have written.” Pilate’s words quickly take on significance far beyond their author’s intention, primarily because they are juxtaposed with other themes in John, such as testimony and the kingship of Christ.

More recent approaches have emphasized the role of the reader in the construction of meaning. Interpretation, it is argued, is determined by the interaction between reader and text; readers bring their own presuppositions to the task of interpretation, and such assumptions determine meaning. The author and the historical context of the text will exert some influence, but the primary determinant of meaning is the present reader in his or her present environment. This is not to say that the text “means” whatever a reader wants it to mean; rather, it makes meaning contingent upon the contemporary environment and not subject to anything external to individual readers. On the one hand, readers must“actualize” the text by applying and appropriating it within an environment alien to the original. On the other, readers have the right, and in some cases the responsibility, of undermining the text, particularly if that text assists in the oppression of others.

Elements of an Effective Hermeneutic

An effective hermeneutic requires keeping each of these elements in constant balance with one another. God’s word is truthful and fully trustworthy, yet it is given to his people through individual human authors, authors who wrote in a particular context to a particular audience at a particular time. Understanding the Bible therefore requires knowledge of the purposes of these authors in their specific historical contexts. Nevertheless, our primary access to authorial intention is through the biblical text itself. Finally, understanding always requires personal interaction with, and application of, the text of Scripture to each person’s own life and circumstances. Thus, hermeneutics involves the simultaneous interaction of a variety of perspectives—truth, author, text, and reader—each of which cannot function properly without the others. What follows here is an outline of the most important hermeneutical tools required for such a weighty endeavor.

Linguistics

An appreciation of the nature, structure, and function of language is fundamental to any interpretative endeavor. Obviously, this applies first of all to the specific languages in which the books of the Bible were originally composed. Each language has its own unique vocabulary, grammar, and syntax, and structures available to a writer in one language often are absent in another. Thus, while it is often necessary and acceptable to rely on translations (Neh. 7:73–8:12), readers should be aware that translation itself involves a degree of unavoidable interpretation.

A more general analysis of language is also useful. Understanding the typical patterns by which authors will string sentences together is necessary for following a writing’s train of thought. This tool, called “discourse analysis,” operates above the sentence level, attempting to understand and explain how sentences function in conjunction with one another in order to produce meaningful paragraphs, and how those paragraphs in turn operate within the overarching purpose of the discourse. These patterns of discourse can vary on the basis of book, author, language, culture, and literary genre, but there are also features of effective discourse common to all communication. Thus, while the principles and rules of communication are often intuitively grasped, understanding language, both generally and specifically, is foundational to the task of interpretation.

Literature and Literary Theory

The biblical writers are concerned not only with the informational content of their writing, but also with the manner in which that content is communicated. The words, patterns of speech, style, and imagery of any text provide significant insight into its purpose and message, apart from that text’s specific propositional content. The diversity of language used in the Gospels provides an example of this. Each of the four Gospel authors has a slightly different concern in his writing. John’s purpose, “that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:31), explains his frequent use of courtroom language, such as “testimony” and “witness” (e.g., John 21:24). Mark, by contrast, sweeps the reader along a fast-paced and intensely personal exposition of Jesus’ life and death through the terseness and immediacy of his narration. Attention to these literary details allows the reader to more fully participate in the world of the text.

Such decisions will often depend upon a thorough analysis of genre. A reader naturally interprets historical narrative differently from poetry and didactic material. Furthermore, the conventions of different genres change over time. The book of Acts, for example, despite its essentially historical character, does not appear concerned with recording an exact dictation of the many speeches it reports, despite modern expectations that historical writing should be as precise as possible. The classification of ancient genres and the description of their respective conventions therefore require a good deal of analysis and sensitivity, but often such insights are provided by a careful and open reading of the text.

History

As the product of a particular author at a particular time, each book of the Bible is situated within its own unique historical context. Paul, for example, while perhaps conscious of the importance of his letters for posterity, wrote to specific churches or individuals with a singular purpose. This particularity of author, audience, and circumstance can often cause interpretative problems. Thus, while background studies are not always necessary to get the general idea of the author’s message, they can be invaluable in protecting readers from anachronism and enabling them to better appreciate the author’s purpose and perspective.

Historical study is assisted by specialized disciplines. Archaeology, for example, focuses on the beliefs, habits, practices, and history of ancient cultures, harnessing a wealth of evidence to that end. Similarly, anthropology and other social sciences are able to explore facets of modern cultures in order to better assess cross-cultural presuppositions and behaviors, many of which provide insight into ancient civilizations that shared similar attitudes. These methods provide the reader with the information necessary to understand a text in terms consistent with its cultural backdrop, highlighting both the similarities and the differences between the Bible and its environment. Recent discoveries of ancient Hittite treaties, for example, shed light on the “cutting ceremony” recorded in Gen. 15. These treaties detail similar ceremonies in which the vassal of a king would walk between hewed animal carcasses as a symbol of allegiance; if disobedience occurred, the vassal would share the fate of the animals. A similar ceremony occurs in Genesis, but with an interesting twist at the end: God, not Abram, passes through the pieces (15:17).

Humility and the Attitude of the Reader

Careful attention in interpretation requires a great deal of humility. It is difficult to overstate the importance of the attitude of the reader for an effective hermeneutic. Being a good reader requires willingness to share and participate in the world of the author and the text, a willingness that postpones judgment and expects personal change. This, in turn, requires a spirit of self-criticism, a commitment to defer one’s own presuppositions in favor of those of the text. Although readers are never able to fully distance themselves from their cultural situation and assumptions, the study of hermeneutics, among other things, can provide tools and skills for self-criticism and self-awareness, skills that enable the reader to better understand, appreciate, and appropriate the meaning of a text. Even a peripheral understanding of the complexities of interpretation can help readers develop an attitude of humility, imagination, and expectation as they approach the Scriptures.

Such humility is a prerequisite for application. The depth of meaning embedded in any text, and especially within the Bible, provides the humble reader with a rich and powerful tool for personal growth. Having better understood the world of the text on its own terms, readers are able to “project” that world onto themselves and their environment, to appropriate its meaning in a new and possibly foreign context. Thus, Jesus promises that those who hear, understand, and put his word into practice will yield a crop “some thirty, some sixty, some a hundred times what was sown” (Mark 4:20).

Unique Features of Biblical Interpretation

Certain unique features of the biblical text can create special opportunities and challenges for the Christian interpreter. These challenges are at work in the Bible’s own interpretation of itself. The Bible was written by many different authors over the course of a long period of history; it is therefore not surprising to find later authors reflecting on earlier periods. This innerbiblical interpretation offers the Christian insights into the unique nature of biblical hermeneutics and therefore provides a foundational model in approaching the Bible as the word of God.

The common and preeminent assumption that grounds innerbiblical interpretation is the commitment to ultimate divine authorship. Thus, the writer of Hebrews, though affirming the diversity of human authorship in the Bible (1:1), regularly introduces OT quotations with statements such as “God says” (1:5), “he spoke through David” (4:7), and “the Holy Spirit says” (3:7). Other writers tend to prefer the formula “it is written,” but each of these reflects a common presupposition that the Scriptures are ultimately delivered by God (2 Pet. 1:21).

Divine authorship means, at the very least, that there is a depth of meaning and purpose to the text, a depth often hidden even from the human author (1 Pet. 1:10–12). Psalm 2, for example, probably originally served as a coronation hymn used to celebrate the appointment of a new king in Israel. Yet the NT understands this psalm as a prophecy fulfilled in the resurrection of Jesus Christ (Acts 13:33; Heb. 5:5). The intention of the original speaker can even be at odds with God’s intention, such as when Caiaphas claims, “It is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish” (John 11:50; cf. Acts 5:35–39). In this case, the irony of Caiaphas’s statement creates a powerful testimony, contrary to his intent, and is used by John to promote confidence in Jesus.

Furthermore, because the Scriptures are from God, they have a consistent and central focus. The NT unhesitatingly views all of Scripture, in all its diversity, as focused, by virtue of divine inspiration, on the person and work of Jesus Christ. This is seen in, for example, Luke 24:13–35, where the resurrected Jesus, “beginning with Moses and all the Prophets,” explains to his disciples “what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself” (cf. John 5:39; 12:41). This central focus on Christ requires the Christian interpreter to understand any individual verse in light of its context within the canon, to operate with the same assumption as the NT apostles, that all the Scriptures are concerned with testifying to Jesus the Christ.

Additionally, Paul views both Testaments as the special possession and once-for-all foundation of God’s church (Eph. 2:19–20; cf. Acts 2:42). The church, from a NT perspective, is the primary audience of the entirety of Scripture (1 Pet. 1:12) and is therefore uniquely entrusted with understanding and proclaiming its message (Matt. 28:18–20). While the Scriptures themselves are the only infallible guide for interpretation, believers should not forsake the teaching and tradition of the church (2 Thess. 2:15).

Finally, full understanding of the Bible requires the work of the Holy Spirit in conjunction with the faith of the reader. Belief and understanding go together (John 10:38), and both are the result of the unique work of the Holy Spirit (16:13). The proof that such understanding has taken place is the godly life of the believer (Rom. 2:13; James 1:22–25). The reverse is also true: disobedience works against understanding the riches of God’s Word (James 1:21). Such considerations underline the importance of the hermeneutical task. The tools and principles of hermeneutics are valuable only insofar as they enable the reader to better understand and appropriate the biblical message, to hear the word of God and respond appropriately.

Hermeneutics is the science and practice of interpretation. It can refer more generally to the philosophy of human understanding, or more specifically to the tools and methods used for interpreting communicative acts.

Human communication takes place in a variety of ways: through the use of nonverbal signs, through speech, and through writing. Effective communication requires some degree of shared belief, knowledge, and background between the participants. If the communicators have a significant amount of common ground, they will be able to successfully understand one another with little extra effort. Conversely, individuals with vastly different backgrounds will need to take extra steps to communicate effectively, such as defining special terms, avoiding jargon and colloquialisms, appreciating details about the other’s cultural assumptions, or learning a foreign language.

The Bible is not exempt from this process of communication. The Scriptures are meant to be read, understood, and put into practice (Luke 8:4–15; James 1:18), a task that requires effort and study on the part of its readers (Acts 17:11; 2 Tim. 2:15). Everyone who reads the Bible is involved in this interpretative process, though readers will vary in their hermeneutical self-consciousness and skill. Thus, although readers are able to understand and appropriate much of the Bible without any special training in hermeneutical principles, such training is appropriate and helpful, both in attaining self-consciousness in interpretation and in acquiring new skills and insights in the effort to become a better reader.

The Development of Hermeneutics

The church has benefited from a long history of thinking about the nature and purpose of interpreting its Scriptures, and that reflection has resulted in a wide variety of hermeneutical theories and practices. How does one determine the meaning of a text? Is meaning the truth embedded within the passage? Or is it the original author’s intention in writing? Or does the text act independently of its author and history, either because it stands on its own terms or because it only “means” anything in interaction with readers? The answers to these questions will determine how readers approach a text, the questions they expect that text to answer, and the tools they use in interpretation.

From the early church to the Enlightenment. The early church emphasized the ability of the biblical text to convey heavenly truth, whether that truth was conceived as doctrinal teaching or absolute ethical rules. While the “literal meaning” of many texts could often supply simple truths and maxims, such a reading was at other times inadequate and could appear incompatible with what were considered basic and fundamental beliefs. Various allegorical techniques were therefore employed to explain such problematic texts. Interpreters often viewed the literal and historical features of the text as a starting point in the search for fuller meaning, as symbolic pointers to moral principles, absolute truths, or eternal realities. These practices were systematized throughout the Middle Ages and resulted in an extensive development of tradition. Church tradition, in turn, provided a degree of protection from the potential for arbitrariness in allegorical techniques, insisting that interpretation must be guided by the “rule of faith,” the traditional teaching and faith of the church.

Beginning in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, scholarship moved to distance itself from such tradition. The Protestant Reformers, dissatisfied with the rule of church tradition, sought to displace its authority with the direct rule of Scripture. They therefore returned to the original biblical text, engaging in critical study of the text itself and translating the Bible into the vernacular to make it more widely accessible. In the centuries that followed, Enlightenment scholars went a step further in their rejection of the church as the sole repository of knowledge. Instead, they asserted, knowledge was acquired through scientific inquiry and critical study. Such inquiry could be applied to any field: the forces of nature, human anatomy, or the interpretation of texts. The meaning of a text was not some abstract truth or heavenly principle; rather, meaning was determined by the human author’s original intention in writing and was therefore a historical matter. The intention of an author could be better exposed and understood through a more complete study of both the language in which a text was written and the historical circumstances that surrounded it. Many of these same emphases had been championed by the Protestant Reformers; yet the Enlightenment thinkers differed on one key point: the Reformers never questioned that the text was the word of God.

From the Enlightenment to the present. This favorable attitude toward historical research dwindled over the centuries. In its place authors emphasized the primacy of the text as text, apart from any connection to its origin and history. Literature, it is argued, ultimately operates independently from its author’s intention. All that matters is the text, and it is the reader’s job to understand the text on its own terms, apart from the contingencies surrounding its creation. To that end, interpreters should pay careful attention to the text’s literary features, including its plot structure, characterization, themes, and use of imagery. An interesting example of this hermeneutical dynamic is found in John 19:22, where Pilate asserts, “What I have written, I have written.” Pilate’s words quickly take on significance far beyond their author’s intention, primarily because they are juxtaposed with other themes in John, such as testimony and the kingship of Christ.

More recent approaches have emphasized the role of the reader in the construction of meaning. Interpretation, it is argued, is determined by the interaction between reader and text; readers bring their own presuppositions to the task of interpretation, and such assumptions determine meaning. The author and the historical context of the text will exert some influence, but the primary determinant of meaning is the present reader in his or her present environment. This is not to say that the text “means” whatever a reader wants it to mean; rather, it makes meaning contingent upon the contemporary environment and not subject to anything external to individual readers. On the one hand, readers must“actualize” the text by applying and appropriating it within an environment alien to the original. On the other, readers have the right, and in some cases the responsibility, of undermining the text, particularly if that text assists in the oppression of others.

Elements of an Effective Hermeneutic

An effective hermeneutic requires keeping each of these elements in constant balance with one another. God’s word is truthful and fully trustworthy, yet it is given to his people through individual human authors, authors who wrote in a particular context to a particular audience at a particular time. Understanding the Bible therefore requires knowledge of the purposes of these authors in their specific historical contexts. Nevertheless, our primary access to authorial intention is through the biblical text itself. Finally, understanding always requires personal interaction with, and application of, the text of Scripture to each person’s own life and circumstances. Thus, hermeneutics involves the simultaneous interaction of a variety of perspectives—truth, author, text, and reader—each of which cannot function properly without the others. What follows here is an outline of the most important hermeneutical tools required for such a weighty endeavor.

Linguistics

An appreciation of the nature, structure, and function of language is fundamental to any interpretative endeavor. Obviously, this applies first of all to the specific languages in which the books of the Bible were originally composed. Each language has its own unique vocabulary, grammar, and syntax, and structures available to a writer in one language often are absent in another. Thus, while it is often necessary and acceptable to rely on translations (Neh. 7:73–8:12), readers should be aware that translation itself involves a degree of unavoidable interpretation.

A more general analysis of language is also useful. Understanding the typical patterns by which authors will string sentences together is necessary for following a writing’s train of thought. This tool, called “discourse analysis,” operates above the sentence level, attempting to understand and explain how sentences function in conjunction with one another in order to produce meaningful paragraphs, and how those paragraphs in turn operate within the overarching purpose of the discourse. These patterns of discourse can vary on the basis of book, author, language, culture, and literary genre, but there are also features of effective discourse common to all communication. Thus, while the principles and rules of communication are often intuitively grasped, understanding language, both generally and specifically, is foundational to the task of interpretation.

Literature and Literary Theory

The biblical writers are concerned not only with the informational content of their writing, but also with the manner in which that content is communicated. The words, patterns of speech, style, and imagery of any text provide significant insight into its purpose and message, apart from that text’s specific propositional content. The diversity of language used in the Gospels provides an example of this. Each of the four Gospel authors has a slightly different concern in his writing. John’s purpose, “that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:31), explains his frequent use of courtroom language, such as “testimony” and “witness” (e.g., John 21:24). Mark, by contrast, sweeps the reader along a fast-paced and intensely personal exposition of Jesus’ life and death through the terseness and immediacy of his narration. Attention to these literary details allows the reader to more fully participate in the world of the text.

Such decisions will often depend upon a thorough analysis of genre. A reader naturally interprets historical narrative differently from poetry and didactic material. Furthermore, the conventions of different genres change over time. The book of Acts, for example, despite its essentially historical character, does not appear concerned with recording an exact dictation of the many speeches it reports, despite modern expectations that historical writing should be as precise as possible. The classification of ancient genres and the description of their respective conventions therefore require a good deal of analysis and sensitivity, but often such insights are provided by a careful and open reading of the text.

History

As the product of a particular author at a particular time, each book of the Bible is situated within its own unique historical context. Paul, for example, while perhaps conscious of the importance of his letters for posterity, wrote to specific churches or individuals with a singular purpose. This particularity of author, audience, and circumstance can often cause interpretative problems. Thus, while background studies are not always necessary to get the general idea of the author’s message, they can be invaluable in protecting readers from anachronism and enabling them to better appreciate the author’s purpose and perspective.

Historical study is assisted by specialized disciplines. Archaeology, for example, focuses on the beliefs, habits, practices, and history of ancient cultures, harnessing a wealth of evidence to that end. Similarly, anthropology and other social sciences are able to explore facets of modern cultures in order to better assess cross-cultural presuppositions and behaviors, many of which provide insight into ancient civilizations that shared similar attitudes. These methods provide the reader with the information necessary to understand a text in terms consistent with its cultural backdrop, highlighting both the similarities and the differences between the Bible and its environment. Recent discoveries of ancient Hittite treaties, for example, shed light on the “cutting ceremony” recorded in Gen. 15. These treaties detail similar ceremonies in which the vassal of a king would walk between hewed animal carcasses as a symbol of allegiance; if disobedience occurred, the vassal would share the fate of the animals. A similar ceremony occurs in Genesis, but with an interesting twist at the end: God, not Abram, passes through the pieces (15:17).

Humility and the Attitude of the Reader

Careful attention in interpretation requires a great deal of humility. It is difficult to overstate the importance of the attitude of the reader for an effective hermeneutic. Being a good reader requires willingness to share and participate in the world of the author and the text, a willingness that postpones judgment and expects personal change. This, in turn, requires a spirit of self-criticism, a commitment to defer one’s own presuppositions in favor of those of the text. Although readers are never able to fully distance themselves from their cultural situation and assumptions, the study of hermeneutics, among other things, can provide tools and skills for self-criticism and self-awareness, skills that enable the reader to better understand, appreciate, and appropriate the meaning of a text. Even a peripheral understanding of the complexities of interpretation can help readers develop an attitude of humility, imagination, and expectation as they approach the Scriptures.

Such humility is a prerequisite for application. The depth of meaning embedded in any text, and especially within the Bible, provides the humble reader with a rich and powerful tool for personal growth. Having better understood the world of the text on its own terms, readers are able to “project” that world onto themselves and their environment, to appropriate its meaning in a new and possibly foreign context. Thus, Jesus promises that those who hear, understand, and put his word into practice will yield a crop “some thirty, some sixty, some a hundred times what was sown” (Mark 4:20).

Unique Features of Biblical Interpretation

Certain unique features of the biblical text can create special opportunities and challenges for the Christian interpreter. These challenges are at work in the Bible’s own interpretation of itself. The Bible was written by many different authors over the course of a long period of history; it is therefore not surprising to find later authors reflecting on earlier periods. This innerbiblical interpretation offers the Christian insights into the unique nature of biblical hermeneutics and therefore provides a foundational model in approaching the Bible as the word of God.

The common and preeminent assumption that grounds innerbiblical interpretation is the commitment to ultimate divine authorship. Thus, the writer of Hebrews, though affirming the diversity of human authorship in the Bible (1:1), regularly introduces OT quotations with statements such as “God says” (1:5), “he spoke through David” (4:7), and “the Holy Spirit says” (3:7). Other writers tend to prefer the formula “it is written,” but each of these reflects a common presupposition that the Scriptures are ultimately delivered by God (2 Pet. 1:21).

Divine authorship means, at the very least, that there is a depth of meaning and purpose to the text, a depth often hidden even from the human author (1 Pet. 1:10–12). Psalm 2, for example, probably originally served as a coronation hymn used to celebrate the appointment of a new king in Israel. Yet the NT understands this psalm as a prophecy fulfilled in the resurrection of Jesus Christ (Acts 13:33; Heb. 5:5). The intention of the original speaker can even be at odds with God’s intention, such as when Caiaphas claims, “It is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish” (John 11:50; cf. Acts 5:35–39). In this case, the irony of Caiaphas’s statement creates a powerful testimony, contrary to his intent, and is used by John to promote confidence in Jesus.

Furthermore, because the Scriptures are from God, they have a consistent and central focus. The NT unhesitatingly views all of Scripture, in all its diversity, as focused, by virtue of divine inspiration, on the person and work of Jesus Christ. This is seen in, for example, Luke 24:13–35, where the resurrected Jesus, “beginning with Moses and all the Prophets,” explains to his disciples “what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself” (cf. John 5:39; 12:41). This central focus on Christ requires the Christian interpreter to understand any individual verse in light of its context within the canon, to operate with the same assumption as the NT apostles, that all the Scriptures are concerned with testifying to Jesus the Christ.

Additionally, Paul views both Testaments as the special possession and once-for-all foundation of God’s church (Eph. 2:19–20; cf. Acts 2:42). The church, from a NT perspective, is the primary audience of the entirety of Scripture (1 Pet. 1:12) and is therefore uniquely entrusted with understanding and proclaiming its message (Matt. 28:18–20). While the Scriptures themselves are the only infallible guide for interpretation, believers should not forsake the teaching and tradition of the church (2 Thess. 2:15).

Finally, full understanding of the Bible requires the work of the Holy Spirit in conjunction with the faith of the reader. Belief and understanding go together (John 10:38), and both are the result of the unique work of the Holy Spirit (16:13). The proof that such understanding has taken place is the godly life of the believer (Rom. 2:13; James 1:22–25). The reverse is also true: disobedience works against understanding the riches of God’s Word (James 1:21). Such considerations underline the importance of the hermeneutical task. The tools and principles of hermeneutics are valuable only insofar as they enable the reader to better understand and appropriate the biblical message, to hear the word of God and respond appropriately.

In the OT, “morning star” may indicate a star (Job 3:9) or celestial beings in general; for example, “morning stars” is parallel to “angels” (lit., “sons of God”; see NIV mg.) in Job 38:7. In a passage addressed to the king of Babylon, Isa. 14:12–13 describes him as the “morning star [ESV, NRSV: “Day Star”], son of the dawn” who spoke presumptuously and fell from heaven. The KJV instead translates the term as “Lucifer,” a name that has traditionally been applied to Satan (see also Lucifer). NT imagery associates the brilliant morning star with the dawn of the messianic kingdom of David fulfilled in Jesus (2 Pet. 1:19 [KJV: “day star”]; cf. Num. 24:17; Isa. 60:1–3), promising the morning star to those who overcome (Rev. 2:28). In Rev. 22:16, Jesus identifies himself as the “bright Morning Star.”

The term “Scripture” ( graphē) appears fifty-one times in the NT, used in reference to the OT. Sometimes the biblical writers cite a specific OT text as Scripture, while at other times they refer to Scripture in a more comprehensive manner.

Most references occur in the Gospels, in which Jesus details the nature and the extent of Scripture. Jesus opened the Scriptures from Moses through all the prophets in order to explain everything about himself as the anticipated Messiah (Luke 24:44–45). The prophetic quality of Scripture is evidenced in OT passages that are referenced in the NT as being fulfilled in his birth, life, betrayal, death, burial, and resurrection.

Jesus characterized the Scriptures as the powerful source of eternal life (John 5:39; 7:38). They have abiding authority and cannot be broken (10:35). He highlighted the dynamic quality of the Scriptures when he said that they speak, testify, and declare.

In Acts, Scripture is the authoritative source from which the apostle Paul explains the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ (17:2; 18:28). Apollos is distinguished as a man with a thorough knowledge of Scripture, and the Bereans were known for their investigative inquiry into the truthfulness of the Scriptures.

The book of Romans opens (1:2) and closes (16:25–26) with references to the gospel as Scripture. Throughout this letter Paul broadens Scripture referents beyond Christ and his redemptive work to include the themes of divine power, the nature of belief, and the prophetic ministry of Elijah. Finally, Paul characterizes Scripture as holy, prophetic, and intimately associated with the Lord himself. The Scriptures are a source not only of eternal life but also of encouragement.

In Galatians, Scripture includes the prophetic anticipation of Gentile participation in the gospel (3:8). It is a convicting authority that shows all people to be bound by sin and unbelief (3:22). The historical narrative account of Gen. 21 is also regarded as Scripture and used in an analogous typological manner (Gal. 4:21–31).

The Pastoral Letters and the book of James cite legal sections of the OT under the heading of Scripture (1 Tim. 5:18 [quoting Deut. 25:4; Lev. 19:13]; James 2:8). The most significant references to Scripture are 2 Tim. 3:16 and 2 Pet. 1:20–21 because they define the origin, nature, and function of Scripture. In addition, 2 Tim. 3:16 details the sufficiency of Scripture in its ability to teach, rebuke, correct, and train. In every period of history, Scripture is sufficient in extent and content to sustain people and nurture their relationship with God.

The word “star” is used in the Bible to refer to any bright point of light in the night sky; no linguistic distinction is made between stars and planets (cf. 2 Pet. 1:19; Rev. 2:28; 22:16).

Stars often are used to illustrate the scope of God’s promises (Gen. 15:5; 22:17; 26:4; Deut. 10:22). They were used throughout the ancient Near East to represent the king, an association also evident in the OT (Num. 24:17; Isa. 14:12). Stars also were named, and some were objects of worship, a practice condemned in Israel (Amos 5:26; cf. Deut. 4:19). Stars were subject to study by foreign sages who sought to predict the future based on their observations, although their efficacy is denied (Isa. 47:13). Nonetheless, the arrival of the Messiah is heralded by a star in the service of its creator (Matt. 2:2–10). The falling (Rev. 6:13) and the darkening of stars (Joel 2:10; 3:15) are used to depict the coming of the day of the Lord in judgment.

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.

The accomplishment of God’s purposes. This was most clearly expressed by Jesus’ prayer, “Not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42). Jesus stipulated in the Gospel of John that he was pursuing not his own will but that of God (5:19, 30; 6:38). God’s will is revealed in creation (Rev. 4:11), Scripture (2 Pet. 1:20–21), his standards (Ezra 10:11; Rom. 12:1–2; 1 Thess. 4:3), his calling (1 Cor. 1:1), and his purpose (Isa. 46:10).

“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

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).

Bible formation and canon development are best understood in light of historical events and theological principles. In the historical-theological process we learn what God did and how he engaged a variety of people to produce Scripture as the word of God. The Bible is the written revelation of the triune God, who made himself known to his creation. The divine actions of God to reveal himself resulted in a written text recognized to be authoritative and thus copied and preserved for future generations. The process of recognizing and collecting authoritative books of the Scriptures occurred over time and involved consensus.

Bible Formation

Revelation. The process of Bible formation begins with God revealing. The act of revelation involved God communicating truth to the human writers in a progressive and unified manner. Inspiration is the act of God the Holy Spirit, who superintended the biblical authors so that they composed the books of Scripture exactly as he intended. God used the biblical writers, their personalities and their writing styles, in a manner that kept them from error in composing the original written product, the Scriptures. The resulting books of the Bible constitute God’s permanent special revelation to humankind.

Both Testaments affirm the work of revelation along with the formation of a body of divine writings. The OT is dominated by the phrase “thus says the Lord” and similar expressions (cf. Gen. 9:8; Josh. 24:27; Isa. 1:2; Jer. 1:7 and contrast Ps. 135:15–19). Every part of the OT is viewed as the word of God (Rom. 3:2). This is confirmed by Jesus’ attitude toward the Scriptures (Matt. 19:4–5; 21:42; 22:29; cf. Luke 11:50–51; 24:44).

Four NT passages help us understand the work of inspiration. A factual statement regarding the extent and nature of inspiration is made in 2 Tim. 3:16. According to 2 Pet. 1:19–20, the Holy Spirit purposefully carried persons along to produce the prophetic word, and 1 Cor. 2:10–13 supports the choice of the words in the work of composing the inspired product. Finally, Peter comments that Paul was given wisdom to produce inspired literary documents in the canon of Scripture (2 Pet. 3:14–18).

Authority. Books formed and authored by God in this manner are authoritative. Because the Bible is the divinely inspired word of God reliably composed in the originals, it is binding upon people in their relationship with God and other people. Biblical authority derives from God’s eternal character and the content of his word preserved in Scripture. The inscripturated word of God is authoritative and requires obedience.

The authority of God’s word is affirmed and illustrated in the creation and fall narratives. In the fall, Adam and Eve rebelled against God’s command (Gen. 3:3–4) and were expelled from the garden. In subsequent periods of biblical history, God’s spoken and written word continued to be the basis for belief and conduct. God summarized his will in the Ten Commandments (Exod. 20:1-17; Deut. 5:6–21) and held his people accountable to it (Deut. 6:2; Josh. 1:8; 2 Kings 17:5–23). The authoritative word embraced by faith protects the believer from sin (Ps. 119:11). The fool is the person who rejects God’s authority (Pss. 14:1; 53:1). The apostle Paul acknowledged the authority of the gospel for his own life and ministry (Gal. 1:6–9). God the Holy Spirit impresses upon the believer the authority of the Bible as the reliable rule for faith and practice (John 6:63).

God made provision for a reliable and trustworthy preservation of his authoritative word in the multiplicity of extant manuscripts. God commanded that his revealed word be copied (Deut. 17:8–18; 24:8; 31:9, 25–26; 33:8–10) for administrative and personal purposes (Deut. 6:6; Josh. 1:8; 23:6; Prov. 3:3; 7:3). Through this process of multiplication the word of God was preserved (Ps. 119:152, 160; Isa. 40:8; cf. Matt. 5:17–18; John 10:35; 1 Pet. 1:22–25).

Canonization

Canonization is the next critical step in the development of the Bible. The word “canon” (Gk. kanōn) refers to a standard, norm, or rule (Gal. 6:16; cf. Ezek. 42:16), and when applied to the Bible, it designates the collection of books revealed by God, divinely inspired, and recognized by the people of God as the authoritative norm for faith and practice. The presupposition of canonicity is that God spoke to his human creatures and his word was accurately recorded. Since inspiration determines canonicity, the books composed by human beings under the direction of the Holy Spirit functioned authoritatively at the time of writing. The people of God then recognized and collected the books that they discerned to be inspired and authoritative (1 Thess. 2:10–16; 2 Pet. 3:15).

The canonical process. The challenge associated with canon and Bible formation is that the Scriptures do not reveal a detailed historical process for recognizing and collecting inspired works. An understanding of this process is derived from the testimony of Jesus, biblical principles, and historical precedents.

Canonical identification is associated with the witness of the Holy Spirit, who worked in connection with the believers to recognize the written documents given by inspiration (1 Thess. 2:13). The Holy Spirit enabled believers to discern a book’s authority and its compatibility with existing canonical revelation (Isa. 8:20; Acts 17:11). Although the question of authorship cannot be positively settled for every OT or NT book, believers recognized the prophets as the OT authors (Deut. 18:14–22) and the apostles as the NT authors. Canonical books were recognized to bear the power of God and to contain an effective message (2 Tim. 3:15–16; Heb. 4:12; 1 Pet. 1:23).

Over time, the authoritative books of Scripture were collected into a body of literature that today forms one book, the Bible. During this process, some believers struggled with the message, content, and ambiguous authorship of books such as Ecclesiastes, Song of Solomon, and Esther in the OT and Hebrews, James, and 2 Peter in the NT. The pattern of composition and canonical process for the OT provided the foundation for the composition and development of the NT canon. Therefore, the NT books that came to be recognized as canonical were those that were composed in connection with an apostle, doctrinally sound, and widely circulated and used by the churches.

In the collection task some texts were recognized (homologoumena), some were disputed (antilegomena), and others were rejected as unorthodox (pseudepigrapha). Historically, there is no evidence for widespread acceptance of the present-day canon of sixty-six books until the third century AD.

Structure and content. Over the centuries, several canonical lists began to emerge, often influenced by particular theological conclusions. For example, the Samaritan canon, which includes only the first five books of our OT, was compiled by the Samaritans, who were hostile to anything in Israel or Judea outside Samaria. Today, Christian traditions vary in their inclusion or omission of the Apocrypha from their Bibles and in their list of which books are contained in the Apocrypha.

The Babylonian canon, accepted as standard by Jews, contains all the books now recognized as the OT and is divided into three parts: the Law, the Prophets, and the Writings. This canon is also known as the Tanak, an acronym derived from the Hebrew words for “law” (torah), “prophets” (nebi’im), “writings” (ketubim). This canonical list traditionally includes twenty-four books (the twelve Minor Prophets are considered to be one book, as are 1–2 Samuel, 1–2 Kings, 1–2 Chronicles, and Ezra-Nehemiah). The twenty-four books of this canonical list are the same as the thirty-nine OT books in current English Bible editions. The law or instruction section includes the first five books of Moses (Genesis through Deuteronomy). The Prophets section is divided into the Former and Latter Prophets. The Former Prophets are the historical books of Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings. The Latter Prophets include both the Major and the Minor Prophets. The Writings section contains both poetic and wisdom material, along with some historical material.

Historical references to this canonical format are found in extrabiblical sources as early as the second century BC. The grandson of Jesus Ben Sira referenced a threefold canon in the prologue of the apocryphal book Sirach (c. 190 BC); Josephus referenced it in Against Apion (AD 37–95). Jesus acknowledged the threefold division in Luke 24:44 (cf. Matt. 23:34). Among Christian sources, this division is preserved in the oldest extant list of OT books, associated with Bishop Melito of Sardis (AD 170). Tertullian, an early Latin church father (AD 160–250), Origen (AD 254), Hilary of Poitiers (AD 305–366), and Jerome (AD 340–420) affirmed an OT canon of twenty-two or twenty-four books. Most current English versions follow a fourfold structure of law, history, poetry, and prophets.

The twenty-seven books of the NT are attested in lists associated with churches in the eastern and western parts of the Mediterranean world. Two such witnesses are the Thirty-ninth Paschal Letter of Athanasius (AD 367) and the Council of Carthage (AD 397). The canonical list associated with Marcion and the Muratorian list represent fragmentary lists from the early part of the second century AD. In terms of usage, a majority of church fathers recognized and used the twenty-seven NT books in our canon. See also Apocrypha, New Testament; Apocrypha, Old Testament.

Hermeneutics is the science and practice of interpretation. It can refer more generally to the philosophy of human understanding, or more specifically to the tools and methods used for interpreting communicative acts.

Human communication takes place in a variety of ways: through the use of nonverbal signs, through speech, and through writing. Effective communication requires some degree of shared belief, knowledge, and background between the participants. If the communicators have a significant amount of common ground, they will be able to successfully understand one another with little extra effort. Conversely, individuals with vastly different backgrounds will need to take extra steps to communicate effectively, such as defining special terms, avoiding jargon and colloquialisms, appreciating details about the other’s cultural assumptions, or learning a foreign language.

The Bible is not exempt from this process of communication. The Scriptures are meant to be read, understood, and put into practice (Luke 8:4–15; James 1:18), a task that requires effort and study on the part of its readers (Acts 17:11; 2 Tim. 2:15). Everyone who reads the Bible is involved in this interpretative process, though readers will vary in their hermeneutical self-consciousness and skill. Thus, although readers are able to understand and appropriate much of the Bible without any special training in hermeneutical principles, such training is appropriate and helpful, both in attaining self-consciousness in interpretation and in acquiring new skills and insights in the effort to become a better reader.

The Development of Hermeneutics

The church has benefited from a long history of thinking about the nature and purpose of interpreting its Scriptures, and that reflection has resulted in a wide variety of hermeneutical theories and practices. How does one determine the meaning of a text? Is meaning the truth embedded within the passage? Or is it the original author’s intention in writing? Or does the text act independently of its author and history, either because it stands on its own terms or because it only “means” anything in interaction with readers? The answers to these questions will determine how readers approach a text, the questions they expect that text to answer, and the tools they use in interpretation.

From the early church to the Enlightenment. The early church emphasized the ability of the biblical text to convey heavenly truth, whether that truth was conceived as doctrinal teaching or absolute ethical rules. While the “literal meaning” of many texts could often supply simple truths and maxims, such a reading was at other times inadequate and could appear incompatible with what were considered basic and fundamental beliefs. Various allegorical techniques were therefore employed to explain such problematic texts. Interpreters often viewed the literal and historical features of the text as a starting point in the search for fuller meaning, as symbolic pointers to moral principles, absolute truths, or eternal realities. These practices were systematized throughout the Middle Ages and resulted in an extensive development of tradition. Church tradition, in turn, provided a degree of protection from the potential for arbitrariness in allegorical techniques, insisting that interpretation must be guided by the “rule of faith,” the traditional teaching and faith of the church.

Beginning in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, scholarship moved to distance itself from such tradition. The Protestant Reformers, dissatisfied with the rule of church tradition, sought to displace its authority with the direct rule of Scripture. They therefore returned to the original biblical text, engaging in critical study of the text itself and translating the Bible into the vernacular to make it more widely accessible. In the centuries that followed, Enlightenment scholars went a step further in their rejection of the church as the sole repository of knowledge. Instead, they asserted, knowledge was acquired through scientific inquiry and critical study. Such inquiry could be applied to any field: the forces of nature, human anatomy, or the interpretation of texts. The meaning of a text was not some abstract truth or heavenly principle; rather, meaning was determined by the human author’s original intention in writing and was therefore a historical matter. The intention of an author could be better exposed and understood through a more complete study of both the language in which a text was written and the historical circumstances that surrounded it. Many of these same emphases had been championed by the Protestant Reformers; yet the Enlightenment thinkers differed on one key point: the Reformers never questioned that the text was the word of God.

From the Enlightenment to the present. This favorable attitude toward historical research dwindled over the centuries. In its place authors emphasized the primacy of the text as text, apart from any connection to its origin and history. Literature, it is argued, ultimately operates independently from its author’s intention. All that matters is the text, and it is the reader’s job to understand the text on its own terms, apart from the contingencies surrounding its creation. To that end, interpreters should pay careful attention to the text’s literary features, including its plot structure, characterization, themes, and use of imagery. An interesting example of this hermeneutical dynamic is found in John 19:22, where Pilate asserts, “What I have written, I have written.” Pilate’s words quickly take on significance far beyond their author’s intention, primarily because they are juxtaposed with other themes in John, such as testimony and the kingship of Christ.

More recent approaches have emphasized the role of the reader in the construction of meaning. Interpretation, it is argued, is determined by the interaction between reader and text; readers bring their own presuppositions to the task of interpretation, and such assumptions determine meaning. The author and the historical context of the text will exert some influence, but the primary determinant of meaning is the present reader in his or her present environment. This is not to say that the text “means” whatever a reader wants it to mean; rather, it makes meaning contingent upon the contemporary environment and not subject to anything external to individual readers. On the one hand, readers must“actualize” the text by applying and appropriating it within an environment alien to the original. On the other, readers have the right, and in some cases the responsibility, of undermining the text, particularly if that text assists in the oppression of others.

Elements of an Effective Hermeneutic

An effective hermeneutic requires keeping each of these elements in constant balance with one another. God’s word is truthful and fully trustworthy, yet it is given to his people through individual human authors, authors who wrote in a particular context to a particular audience at a particular time. Understanding the Bible therefore requires knowledge of the purposes of these authors in their specific historical contexts. Nevertheless, our primary access to authorial intention is through the biblical text itself. Finally, understanding always requires personal interaction with, and application of, the text of Scripture to each person’s own life and circumstances. Thus, hermeneutics involves the simultaneous interaction of a variety of perspectives—truth, author, text, and reader—each of which cannot function properly without the others. What follows here is an outline of the most important hermeneutical tools required for such a weighty endeavor.

Linguistics

An appreciation of the nature, structure, and function of language is fundamental to any interpretative endeavor. Obviously, this applies first of all to the specific languages in which the books of the Bible were originally composed. Each language has its own unique vocabulary, grammar, and syntax, and structures available to a writer in one language often are absent in another. Thus, while it is often necessary and acceptable to rely on translations (Neh. 7:73–8:12), readers should be aware that translation itself involves a degree of unavoidable interpretation.

A more general analysis of language is also useful. Understanding the typical patterns by which authors will string sentences together is necessary for following a writing’s train of thought. This tool, called “discourse analysis,” operates above the sentence level, attempting to understand and explain how sentences function in conjunction with one another in order to produce meaningful paragraphs, and how those paragraphs in turn operate within the overarching purpose of the discourse. These patterns of discourse can vary on the basis of book, author, language, culture, and literary genre, but there are also features of effective discourse common to all communication. Thus, while the principles and rules of communication are often intuitively grasped, understanding language, both generally and specifically, is foundational to the task of interpretation.

Literature and Literary Theory

The biblical writers are concerned not only with the informational content of their writing, but also with the manner in which that content is communicated. The words, patterns of speech, style, and imagery of any text provide significant insight into its purpose and message, apart from that text’s specific propositional content. The diversity of language used in the Gospels provides an example of this. Each of the four Gospel authors has a slightly different concern in his writing. John’s purpose, “that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:31), explains his frequent use of courtroom language, such as “testimony” and “witness” (e.g., John 21:24). Mark, by contrast, sweeps the reader along a fast-paced and intensely personal exposition of Jesus’ life and death through the terseness and immediacy of his narration. Attention to these literary details allows the reader to more fully participate in the world of the text.

Such decisions will often depend upon a thorough analysis of genre. A reader naturally interprets historical narrative differently from poetry and didactic material. Furthermore, the conventions of different genres change over time. The book of Acts, for example, despite its essentially historical character, does not appear concerned with recording an exact dictation of the many speeches it reports, despite modern expectations that historical writing should be as precise as possible. The classification of ancient genres and the description of their respective conventions therefore require a good deal of analysis and sensitivity, but often such insights are provided by a careful and open reading of the text.

History

As the product of a particular author at a particular time, each book of the Bible is situated within its own unique historical context. Paul, for example, while perhaps conscious of the importance of his letters for posterity, wrote to specific churches or individuals with a singular purpose. This particularity of author, audience, and circumstance can often cause interpretative problems. Thus, while background studies are not always necessary to get the general idea of the author’s message, they can be invaluable in protecting readers from anachronism and enabling them to better appreciate the author’s purpose and perspective.

Historical study is assisted by specialized disciplines. Archaeology, for example, focuses on the beliefs, habits, practices, and history of ancient cultures, harnessing a wealth of evidence to that end. Similarly, anthropology and other social sciences are able to explore facets of modern cultures in order to better assess cross-cultural presuppositions and behaviors, many of which provide insight into ancient civilizations that shared similar attitudes. These methods provide the reader with the information necessary to understand a text in terms consistent with its cultural backdrop, highlighting both the similarities and the differences between the Bible and its environment. Recent discoveries of ancient Hittite treaties, for example, shed light on the “cutting ceremony” recorded in Gen. 15. These treaties detail similar ceremonies in which the vassal of a king would walk between hewed animal carcasses as a symbol of allegiance; if disobedience occurred, the vassal would share the fate of the animals. A similar ceremony occurs in Genesis, but with an interesting twist at the end: God, not Abram, passes through the pieces (15:17).

Humility and the Attitude of the Reader

Careful attention in interpretation requires a great deal of humility. It is difficult to overstate the importance of the attitude of the reader for an effective hermeneutic. Being a good reader requires willingness to share and participate in the world of the author and the text, a willingness that postpones judgment and expects personal change. This, in turn, requires a spirit of self-criticism, a commitment to defer one’s own presuppositions in favor of those of the text. Although readers are never able to fully distance themselves from their cultural situation and assumptions, the study of hermeneutics, among other things, can provide tools and skills for self-criticism and self-awareness, skills that enable the reader to better understand, appreciate, and appropriate the meaning of a text. Even a peripheral understanding of the complexities of interpretation can help readers develop an attitude of humility, imagination, and expectation as they approach the Scriptures.

Such humility is a prerequisite for application. The depth of meaning embedded in any text, and especially within the Bible, provides the humble reader with a rich and powerful tool for personal growth. Having better understood the world of the text on its own terms, readers are able to “project” that world onto themselves and their environment, to appropriate its meaning in a new and possibly foreign context. Thus, Jesus promises that those who hear, understand, and put his word into practice will yield a crop “some thirty, some sixty, some a hundred times what was sown” (Mark 4:20).

Unique Features of Biblical Interpretation

Certain unique features of the biblical text can create special opportunities and challenges for the Christian interpreter. These challenges are at work in the Bible’s own interpretation of itself. The Bible was written by many different authors over the course of a long period of history; it is therefore not surprising to find later authors reflecting on earlier periods. This innerbiblical interpretation offers the Christian insights into the unique nature of biblical hermeneutics and therefore provides a foundational model in approaching the Bible as the word of God.

The common and preeminent assumption that grounds innerbiblical interpretation is the commitment to ultimate divine authorship. Thus, the writer of Hebrews, though affirming the diversity of human authorship in the Bible (1:1), regularly introduces OT quotations with statements such as “God says” (1:5), “he spoke through David” (4:7), and “the Holy Spirit says” (3:7). Other writers tend to prefer the formula “it is written,” but each of these reflects a common presupposition that the Scriptures are ultimately delivered by God (2 Pet. 1:21).

Divine authorship means, at the very least, that there is a depth of meaning and purpose to the text, a depth often hidden even from the human author (1 Pet. 1:10–12). Psalm 2, for example, probably originally served as a coronation hymn used to celebrate the appointment of a new king in Israel. Yet the NT understands this psalm as a prophecy fulfilled in the resurrection of Jesus Christ (Acts 13:33; Heb. 5:5). The intention of the original speaker can even be at odds with God’s intention, such as when Caiaphas claims, “It is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish” (John 11:50; cf. Acts 5:35–39). In this case, the irony of Caiaphas’s statement creates a powerful testimony, contrary to his intent, and is used by John to promote confidence in Jesus.

Furthermore, because the Scriptures are from God, they have a consistent and central focus. The NT unhesitatingly views all of Scripture, in all its diversity, as focused, by virtue of divine inspiration, on the person and work of Jesus Christ. This is seen in, for example, Luke 24:13–35, where the resurrected Jesus, “beginning with Moses and all the Prophets,” explains to his disciples “what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself” (cf. John 5:39; 12:41). This central focus on Christ requires the Christian interpreter to understand any individual verse in light of its context within the canon, to operate with the same assumption as the NT apostles, that all the Scriptures are concerned with testifying to Jesus the Christ.

Additionally, Paul views both Testaments as the special possession and once-for-all foundation of God’s church (Eph. 2:19–20; cf. Acts 2:42). The church, from a NT perspective, is the primary audience of the entirety of Scripture (1 Pet. 1:12) and is therefore uniquely entrusted with understanding and proclaiming its message (Matt. 28:18–20). While the Scriptures themselves are the only infallible guide for interpretation, believers should not forsake the teaching and tradition of the church (2 Thess. 2:15).

Finally, full understanding of the Bible requires the work of the Holy Spirit in conjunction with the faith of the reader. Belief and understanding go together (John 10:38), and both are the result of the unique work of the Holy Spirit (16:13). The proof that such understanding has taken place is the godly life of the believer (Rom. 2:13; James 1:22–25). The reverse is also true: disobedience works against understanding the riches of God’s Word (James 1:21). Such considerations underline the importance of the hermeneutical task. The tools and principles of hermeneutics are valuable only insofar as they enable the reader to better understand and appropriate the biblical message, to hear the word of God and respond appropriately.

Bible formation and canon development are best understood in light of historical events and theological principles. In the historical-theological process we learn what God did and how he engaged a variety of people to produce Scripture as the word of God. The Bible is the written revelation of the triune God, who made himself known to his creation. The divine actions of God to reveal himself resulted in a written text recognized to be authoritative and thus copied and preserved for future generations. The process of recognizing and collecting authoritative books of the Scriptures occurred over time and involved consensus.

Bible Formation

Revelation. The process of Bible formation begins with God revealing. The act of revelation involved God communicating truth to the human writers in a progressive and unified manner. Inspiration is the act of God the Holy Spirit, who superintended the biblical authors so that they composed the books of Scripture exactly as he intended. God used the biblical writers, their personalities and their writing styles, in a manner that kept them from error in composing the original written product, the Scriptures. The resulting books of the Bible constitute God’s permanent special revelation to humankind.

Both Testaments affirm the work of revelation along with the formation of a body of divine writings. The OT is dominated by the phrase “thus says the Lord” and similar expressions (cf. Gen. 9:8; Josh. 24:27; Isa. 1:2; Jer. 1:7 and contrast Ps. 135:15–19). Every part of the OT is viewed as the word of God (Rom. 3:2). This is confirmed by Jesus’ attitude toward the Scriptures (Matt. 19:4–5; 21:42; 22:29; cf. Luke 11:50–51; 24:44).

Four NT passages help us understand the work of inspiration. A factual statement regarding the extent and nature of inspiration is made in 2 Tim. 3:16. According to 2 Pet. 1:19–20, the Holy Spirit purposefully carried persons along to produce the prophetic word, and 1 Cor. 2:10–13 supports the choice of the words in the work of composing the inspired product. Finally, Peter comments that Paul was given wisdom to produce inspired literary documents in the canon of Scripture (2 Pet. 3:14–18).

Authority. Books formed and authored by God in this manner are authoritative. Because the Bible is the divinely inspired word of God reliably composed in the originals, it is binding upon people in their relationship with God and other people. Biblical authority derives from God’s eternal character and the content of his word preserved in Scripture. The inscripturated word of God is authoritative and requires obedience.

The authority of God’s word is affirmed and illustrated in the creation and fall narratives. In the fall, Adam and Eve rebelled against God’s command (Gen. 3:3–4) and were expelled from the garden. In subsequent periods of biblical history, God’s spoken and written word continued to be the basis for belief and conduct. God summarized his will in the Ten Commandments (Exod. 20:1-17; Deut. 5:6–21) and held his people accountable to it (Deut. 6:2; Josh. 1:8; 2 Kings 17:5–23). The authoritative word embraced by faith protects the believer from sin (Ps. 119:11). The fool is the person who rejects God’s authority (Pss. 14:1; 53:1). The apostle Paul acknowledged the authority of the gospel for his own life and ministry (Gal. 1:6–9). God the Holy Spirit impresses upon the believer the authority of the Bible as the reliable rule for faith and practice (John 6:63).

God made provision for a reliable and trustworthy preservation of his authoritative word in the multiplicity of extant manuscripts. God commanded that his revealed word be copied (Deut. 17:8–18; 24:8; 31:9, 25–26; 33:8–10) for administrative and personal purposes (Deut. 6:6; Josh. 1:8; 23:6; Prov. 3:3; 7:3). Through this process of multiplication the word of God was preserved (Ps. 119:152, 160; Isa. 40:8; cf. Matt. 5:17–18; John 10:35; 1 Pet. 1:22–25).

Canonization

Canonization is the next critical step in the development of the Bible. The word “canon” (Gk. kanōn) refers to a standard, norm, or rule (Gal. 6:16; cf. Ezek. 42:16), and when applied to the Bible, it designates the collection of books revealed by God, divinely inspired, and recognized by the people of God as the authoritative norm for faith and practice. The presupposition of canonicity is that God spoke to his human creatures and his word was accurately recorded. Since inspiration determines canonicity, the books composed by human beings under the direction of the Holy Spirit functioned authoritatively at the time of writing. The people of God then recognized and collected the books that they discerned to be inspired and authoritative (1 Thess. 2:10–16; 2 Pet. 3:15).

The canonical process. The challenge associated with canon and Bible formation is that the Scriptures do not reveal a detailed historical process for recognizing and collecting inspired works. An understanding of this process is derived from the testimony of Jesus, biblical principles, and historical precedents.

Canonical identification is associated with the witness of the Holy Spirit, who worked in connection with the believers to recognize the written documents given by inspiration (1 Thess. 2:13). The Holy Spirit enabled believers to discern a book’s authority and its compatibility with existing canonical revelation (Isa. 8:20; Acts 17:11). Although the question of authorship cannot be positively settled for every OT or NT book, believers recognized the prophets as the OT authors (Deut. 18:14–22) and the apostles as the NT authors. Canonical books were recognized to bear the power of God and to contain an effective message (2 Tim. 3:15–16; Heb. 4:12; 1 Pet. 1:23).

Over time, the authoritative books of Scripture were collected into a body of literature that today forms one book, the Bible. During this process, some believers struggled with the message, content, and ambiguous authorship of books such as Ecclesiastes, Song of Solomon, and Esther in the OT and Hebrews, James, and 2 Peter in the NT. The pattern of composition and canonical process for the OT provided the foundation for the composition and development of the NT canon. Therefore, the NT books that came to be recognized as canonical were those that were composed in connection with an apostle, doctrinally sound, and widely circulated and used by the churches.

In the collection task some texts were recognized (homologoumena), some were disputed (antilegomena), and others were rejected as unorthodox (pseudepigrapha). Historically, there is no evidence for widespread acceptance of the present-day canon of sixty-six books until the third century AD.

Structure and content. Over the centuries, several canonical lists began to emerge, often influenced by particular theological conclusions. For example, the Samaritan canon, which includes only the first five books of our OT, was compiled by the Samaritans, who were hostile to anything in Israel or Judea outside Samaria. Today, Christian traditions vary in their inclusion or omission of the Apocrypha from their Bibles and in their list of which books are contained in the Apocrypha.

The Babylonian canon, accepted as standard by Jews, contains all the books now recognized as the OT and is divided into three parts: the Law, the Prophets, and the Writings. This canon is also known as the Tanak, an acronym derived from the Hebrew words for “law” (torah), “prophets” (nebi’im), “writings” (ketubim). This canonical list traditionally includes twenty-four books (the twelve Minor Prophets are considered to be one book, as are 1–2 Samuel, 1–2 Kings, 1–2 Chronicles, and Ezra-Nehemiah). The twenty-four books of this canonical list are the same as the thirty-nine OT books in current English Bible editions. The law or instruction section includes the first five books of Moses (Genesis through Deuteronomy). The Prophets section is divided into the Former and Latter Prophets. The Former Prophets are the historical books of Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings. The Latter Prophets include both the Major and the Minor Prophets. The Writings section contains both poetic and wisdom material, along with some historical material.

Historical references to this canonical format are found in extrabiblical sources as early as the second century BC. The grandson of Jesus Ben Sira referenced a threefold canon in the prologue of the apocryphal book Sirach (c. 190 BC); Josephus referenced it in Against Apion (AD 37–95). Jesus acknowledged the threefold division in Luke 24:44 (cf. Matt. 23:34). Among Christian sources, this division is preserved in the oldest extant list of OT books, associated with Bishop Melito of Sardis (AD 170). Tertullian, an early Latin church father (AD 160–250), Origen (AD 254), Hilary of Poitiers (AD 305–366), and Jerome (AD 340–420) affirmed an OT canon of twenty-two or twenty-four books. Most current English versions follow a fourfold structure of law, history, poetry, and prophets.

The twenty-seven books of the NT are attested in lists associated with churches in the eastern and western parts of the Mediterranean world. Two such witnesses are the Thirty-ninth Paschal Letter of Athanasius (AD 367) and the Council of Carthage (AD 397). The canonical list associated with Marcion and the Muratorian list represent fragmentary lists from the early part of the second century AD. In terms of usage, a majority of church fathers recognized and used the twenty-seven NT books in our canon. See also Apocrypha, New Testament; Apocrypha, Old Testament.

The word “star” is used in the Bible to refer to any bright point of light in the night sky; no linguistic distinction is made between stars and planets (cf. 2 Pet. 1:19; Rev. 2:28; 22:16).

Stars often are used to illustrate the scope of God’s promises (Gen. 15:5; 22:17; 26:4; Deut. 10:22). They were used throughout the ancient Near East to represent the king, an association also evident in the OT (Num. 24:17; Isa. 14:12). Stars also were named, and some were objects of worship, a practice condemned in Israel (Amos 5:26; cf. Deut. 4:19). Stars were subject to study by foreign sages who sought to predict the future based on their observations, although their efficacy is denied (Isa. 47:13). Nonetheless, the arrival of the Messiah is heralded by a star in the service of its creator (Matt. 2:2–10). The falling (Rev. 6:13) and the darkening of stars (Joel 2:10; 3:15) are used to depict the coming of the day of the Lord in judgment.

Hermeneutics is the science and practice of interpretation. It can refer more generally to the philosophy of human understanding, or more specifically to the tools and methods used for interpreting communicative acts.

Human communication takes place in a variety of ways: through the use of nonverbal signs, through speech, and through writing. Effective communication requires some degree of shared belief, knowledge, and background between the participants. If the communicators have a significant amount of common ground, they will be able to successfully understand one another with little extra effort. Conversely, individuals with vastly different backgrounds will need to take extra steps to communicate effectively, such as defining special terms, avoiding jargon and colloquialisms, appreciating details about the other’s cultural assumptions, or learning a foreign language.

The Bible is not exempt from this process of communication. The Scriptures are meant to be read, understood, and put into practice (Luke 8:4–15; James 1:18), a task that requires effort and study on the part of its readers (Acts 17:11; 2 Tim. 2:15). Everyone who reads the Bible is involved in this interpretative process, though readers will vary in their hermeneutical self-consciousness and skill. Thus, although readers are able to understand and appropriate much of the Bible without any special training in hermeneutical principles, such training is appropriate and helpful, both in attaining self-consciousness in interpretation and in acquiring new skills and insights in the effort to become a better reader.

The Development of Hermeneutics

The church has benefited from a long history of thinking about the nature and purpose of interpreting its Scriptures, and that reflection has resulted in a wide variety of hermeneutical theories and practices. How does one determine the meaning of a text? Is meaning the truth embedded within the passage? Or is it the original author’s intention in writing? Or does the text act independently of its author and history, either because it stands on its own terms or because it only “means” anything in interaction with readers? The answers to these questions will determine how readers approach a text, the questions they expect that text to answer, and the tools they use in interpretation.

From the early church to the Enlightenment. The early church emphasized the ability of the biblical text to convey heavenly truth, whether that truth was conceived as doctrinal teaching or absolute ethical rules. While the “literal meaning” of many texts could often supply simple truths and maxims, such a reading was at other times inadequate and could appear incompatible with what were considered basic and fundamental beliefs. Various allegorical techniques were therefore employed to explain such problematic texts. Interpreters often viewed the literal and historical features of the text as a starting point in the search for fuller meaning, as symbolic pointers to moral principles, absolute truths, or eternal realities. These practices were systematized throughout the Middle Ages and resulted in an extensive development of tradition. Church tradition, in turn, provided a degree of protection from the potential for arbitrariness in allegorical techniques, insisting that interpretation must be guided by the “rule of faith,” the traditional teaching and faith of the church.

Beginning in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, scholarship moved to distance itself from such tradition. The Protestant Reformers, dissatisfied with the rule of church tradition, sought to displace its authority with the direct rule of Scripture. They therefore returned to the original biblical text, engaging in critical study of the text itself and translating the Bible into the vernacular to make it more widely accessible. In the centuries that followed, Enlightenment scholars went a step further in their rejection of the church as the sole repository of knowledge. Instead, they asserted, knowledge was acquired through scientific inquiry and critical study. Such inquiry could be applied to any field: the forces of nature, human anatomy, or the interpretation of texts. The meaning of a text was not some abstract truth or heavenly principle; rather, meaning was determined by the human author’s original intention in writing and was therefore a historical matter. The intention of an author could be better exposed and understood through a more complete study of both the language in which a text was written and the historical circumstances that surrounded it. Many of these same emphases had been championed by the Protestant Reformers; yet the Enlightenment thinkers differed on one key point: the Reformers never questioned that the text was the word of God.

From the Enlightenment to the present. This favorable attitude toward historical research dwindled over the centuries. In its place authors emphasized the primacy of the text as text, apart from any connection to its origin and history. Literature, it is argued, ultimately operates independently from its author’s intention. All that matters is the text, and it is the reader’s job to understand the text on its own terms, apart from the contingencies surrounding its creation. To that end, interpreters should pay careful attention to the text’s literary features, including its plot structure, characterization, themes, and use of imagery. An interesting example of this hermeneutical dynamic is found in John 19:22, where Pilate asserts, “What I have written, I have written.” Pilate’s words quickly take on significance far beyond their author’s intention, primarily because they are juxtaposed with other themes in John, such as testimony and the kingship of Christ.

More recent approaches have emphasized the role of the reader in the construction of meaning. Interpretation, it is argued, is determined by the interaction between reader and text; readers bring their own presuppositions to the task of interpretation, and such assumptions determine meaning. The author and the historical context of the text will exert some influence, but the primary determinant of meaning is the present reader in his or her present environment. This is not to say that the text “means” whatever a reader wants it to mean; rather, it makes meaning contingent upon the contemporary environment and not subject to anything external to individual readers. On the one hand, readers must“actualize” the text by applying and appropriating it within an environment alien to the original. On the other, readers have the right, and in some cases the responsibility, of undermining the text, particularly if that text assists in the oppression of others.

Elements of an Effective Hermeneutic

An effective hermeneutic requires keeping each of these elements in constant balance with one another. God’s word is truthful and fully trustworthy, yet it is given to his people through individual human authors, authors who wrote in a particular context to a particular audience at a particular time. Understanding the Bible therefore requires knowledge of the purposes of these authors in their specific historical contexts. Nevertheless, our primary access to authorial intention is through the biblical text itself. Finally, understanding always requires personal interaction with, and application of, the text of Scripture to each person’s own life and circumstances. Thus, hermeneutics involves the simultaneous interaction of a variety of perspectives—truth, author, text, and reader—each of which cannot function properly without the others. What follows here is an outline of the most important hermeneutical tools required for such a weighty endeavor.

Linguistics

An appreciation of the nature, structure, and function of language is fundamental to any interpretative endeavor. Obviously, this applies first of all to the specific languages in which the books of the Bible were originally composed. Each language has its own unique vocabulary, grammar, and syntax, and structures available to a writer in one language often are absent in another. Thus, while it is often necessary and acceptable to rely on translations (Neh. 7:73–8:12), readers should be aware that translation itself involves a degree of unavoidable interpretation.

A more general analysis of language is also useful. Understanding the typical patterns by which authors will string sentences together is necessary for following a writing’s train of thought. This tool, called “discourse analysis,” operates above the sentence level, attempting to understand and explain how sentences function in conjunction with one another in order to produce meaningful paragraphs, and how those paragraphs in turn operate within the overarching purpose of the discourse. These patterns of discourse can vary on the basis of book, author, language, culture, and literary genre, but there are also features of effective discourse common to all communication. Thus, while the principles and rules of communication are often intuitively grasped, understanding language, both generally and specifically, is foundational to the task of interpretation.

Literature and Literary Theory

The biblical writers are concerned not only with the informational content of their writing, but also with the manner in which that content is communicated. The words, patterns of speech, style, and imagery of any text provide significant insight into its purpose and message, apart from that text’s specific propositional content. The diversity of language used in the Gospels provides an example of this. Each of the four Gospel authors has a slightly different concern in his writing. John’s purpose, “that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:31), explains his frequent use of courtroom language, such as “testimony” and “witness” (e.g., John 21:24). Mark, by contrast, sweeps the reader along a fast-paced and intensely personal exposition of Jesus’ life and death through the terseness and immediacy of his narration. Attention to these literary details allows the reader to more fully participate in the world of the text.

Such decisions will often depend upon a thorough analysis of genre. A reader naturally interprets historical narrative differently from poetry and didactic material. Furthermore, the conventions of different genres change over time. The book of Acts, for example, despite its essentially historical character, does not appear concerned with recording an exact dictation of the many speeches it reports, despite modern expectations that historical writing should be as precise as possible. The classification of ancient genres and the description of their respective conventions therefore require a good deal of analysis and sensitivity, but often such insights are provided by a careful and open reading of the text.

History

As the product of a particular author at a particular time, each book of the Bible is situated within its own unique historical context. Paul, for example, while perhaps conscious of the importance of his letters for posterity, wrote to specific churches or individuals with a singular purpose. This particularity of author, audience, and circumstance can often cause interpretative problems. Thus, while background studies are not always necessary to get the general idea of the author’s message, they can be invaluable in protecting readers from anachronism and enabling them to better appreciate the author’s purpose and perspective.

Historical study is assisted by specialized disciplines. Archaeology, for example, focuses on the beliefs, habits, practices, and history of ancient cultures, harnessing a wealth of evidence to that end. Similarly, anthropology and other social sciences are able to explore facets of modern cultures in order to better assess cross-cultural presuppositions and behaviors, many of which provide insight into ancient civilizations that shared similar attitudes. These methods provide the reader with the information necessary to understand a text in terms consistent with its cultural backdrop, highlighting both the similarities and the differences between the Bible and its environment. Recent discoveries of ancient Hittite treaties, for example, shed light on the “cutting ceremony” recorded in Gen. 15. These treaties detail similar ceremonies in which the vassal of a king would walk between hewed animal carcasses as a symbol of allegiance; if disobedience occurred, the vassal would share the fate of the animals. A similar ceremony occurs in Genesis, but with an interesting twist at the end: God, not Abram, passes through the pieces (15:17).

Humility and the Attitude of the Reader

Careful attention in interpretation requires a great deal of humility. It is difficult to overstate the importance of the attitude of the reader for an effective hermeneutic. Being a good reader requires willingness to share and participate in the world of the author and the text, a willingness that postpones judgment and expects personal change. This, in turn, requires a spirit of self-criticism, a commitment to defer one’s own presuppositions in favor of those of the text. Although readers are never able to fully distance themselves from their cultural situation and assumptions, the study of hermeneutics, among other things, can provide tools and skills for self-criticism and self-awareness, skills that enable the reader to better understand, appreciate, and appropriate the meaning of a text. Even a peripheral understanding of the complexities of interpretation can help readers develop an attitude of humility, imagination, and expectation as they approach the Scriptures.

Such humility is a prerequisite for application. The depth of meaning embedded in any text, and especially within the Bible, provides the humble reader with a rich and powerful tool for personal growth. Having better understood the world of the text on its own terms, readers are able to “project” that world onto themselves and their environment, to appropriate its meaning in a new and possibly foreign context. Thus, Jesus promises that those who hear, understand, and put his word into practice will yield a crop “some thirty, some sixty, some a hundred times what was sown” (Mark 4:20).

Unique Features of Biblical Interpretation

Certain unique features of the biblical text can create special opportunities and challenges for the Christian interpreter. These challenges are at work in the Bible’s own interpretation of itself. The Bible was written by many different authors over the course of a long period of history; it is therefore not surprising to find later authors reflecting on earlier periods. This innerbiblical interpretation offers the Christian insights into the unique nature of biblical hermeneutics and therefore provides a foundational model in approaching the Bible as the word of God.

The common and preeminent assumption that grounds innerbiblical interpretation is the commitment to ultimate divine authorship. Thus, the writer of Hebrews, though affirming the diversity of human authorship in the Bible (1:1), regularly introduces OT quotations with statements such as “God says” (1:5), “he spoke through David” (4:7), and “the Holy Spirit says” (3:7). Other writers tend to prefer the formula “it is written,” but each of these reflects a common presupposition that the Scriptures are ultimately delivered by God (2 Pet. 1:21).

Divine authorship means, at the very least, that there is a depth of meaning and purpose to the text, a depth often hidden even from the human author (1 Pet. 1:10–12). Psalm 2, for example, probably originally served as a coronation hymn used to celebrate the appointment of a new king in Israel. Yet the NT understands this psalm as a prophecy fulfilled in the resurrection of Jesus Christ (Acts 13:33; Heb. 5:5). The intention of the original speaker can even be at odds with God’s intention, such as when Caiaphas claims, “It is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish” (John 11:50; cf. Acts 5:35–39). In this case, the irony of Caiaphas’s statement creates a powerful testimony, contrary to his intent, and is used by John to promote confidence in Jesus.

Furthermore, because the Scriptures are from God, they have a consistent and central focus. The NT unhesitatingly views all of Scripture, in all its diversity, as focused, by virtue of divine inspiration, on the person and work of Jesus Christ. This is seen in, for example, Luke 24:13–35, where the resurrected Jesus, “beginning with Moses and all the Prophets,” explains to his disciples “what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself” (cf. John 5:39; 12:41). This central focus on Christ requires the Christian interpreter to understand any individual verse in light of its context within the canon, to operate with the same assumption as the NT apostles, that all the Scriptures are concerned with testifying to Jesus the Christ.

Additionally, Paul views both Testaments as the special possession and once-for-all foundation of God’s church (Eph. 2:19–20; cf. Acts 2:42). The church, from a NT perspective, is the primary audience of the entirety of Scripture (1 Pet. 1:12) and is therefore uniquely entrusted with understanding and proclaiming its message (Matt. 28:18–20). While the Scriptures themselves are the only infallible guide for interpretation, believers should not forsake the teaching and tradition of the church (2 Thess. 2:15).

Finally, full understanding of the Bible requires the work of the Holy Spirit in conjunction with the faith of the reader. Belief and understanding go together (John 10:38), and both are the result of the unique work of the Holy Spirit (16:13). The proof that such understanding has taken place is the godly life of the believer (Rom. 2:13; James 1:22–25). The reverse is also true: disobedience works against understanding the riches of God’s Word (James 1:21). Such considerations underline the importance of the hermeneutical task. The tools and principles of hermeneutics are valuable only insofar as they enable the reader to better understand and appropriate the biblical message, to hear the word of God and respond appropriately.

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).

In biblical and systematic theology, “inspiration” is one of several descriptions of God’s involvement in the production of Scripture. It is not an exhaustive description of the many ways in which divine revelation is mediated.

Taken as a description of “all Scripture” (as in 2 Tim. 3:16), inspiration must necessarily encompass such diverse modes of revelation as words audibly spoken or dictated by God and written down by humans (i.e., dictation: “the Lord said to Moses,” “thus says the Lord”), words spoken by angels, texts in which a divine or angelic voice is entirely obscured by the voice and identity of the human author (e.g., the letters of Paul), and, in the vast majority of cases, texts that are essentially anonymous, invoking no human author or divine author in particular. Moreover, any catalog of divinely inspired texts must include not only direct quotations of God’s speech but also occasional letters (the NT Epistles), prayers directed to God by humans (the Psalter), divine oracles given through prophets, the results of historical research (e.g., Luke 1:1–4; 1 Kings 14:19), and anthological texts that were collected and edited over a long period of time, often by unnamed individuals or groups of individuals.

Thus, the inspiration of Scripture must be regarded as a concept that is applied in the broadest possible way to the materials of Scripture. While the doctrine of inspiration constitutes a strong statement concerning the authority and divine authorship of Scripture, it must remain highly flexible with regard to the particular modes and literary products of divine revelation in Scripture.

God-Breathed (theopneustos) in 2 Timothy 3:16

The idea of divine inspiration is stated most clearly in 2 Tim. 3:16–17: “All Scripture is God-breathed [theopneustos] and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.” Here, the fact of divine inspiration serves the apostle’s interest in the authority and relevance of Scripture, especially as Scripture undergirds Timothy’s religious education (2 Tim. 3:14–15). This sole biblical use of the term theopneustos says little about how inspiration is accomplished, and the emphasis is entirely on the consequences of the fact. Because it is inspired, all Scripture is useful and authoritative for a variety of purposes.

In some older English translations, the key term, theopneustos, was translated as “inspired,” following the ancient tradition of rendering the term in Latin as divinitus inspirata. Strictly speaking, “inspiration” is not a biblical term. In one classic Protestant evangelical exposition of the text and doctrine, B. B. Warfield noted that the Greek word denotes not so much a “breathing in” as a “breathing out” on God’s part. Scripture is not simply a container into which God has breathed his word (so that Scripture merely “contains” God’s word), nor is Scripture only “inspiring,” in the sense that it works an effect on the reader (taking theopneustos in an active rather than a passive sense: “God-breathing” rather than “God-breathed”). Scripture is not the product of inspiration, as if produced by inspired authors but not itself inspired. Rather than all these things, it is most correct to say that Scripture is, in the strictly literal sense of the word, “expired”—breathed out by God himself. This view of the matter is reflected in, among other places, the NIV translation of theopneustos as “God-breathed.”

The translation by the NIV—“all Scripture is God-breathed and is useful . . .”—takes theopneustos as a grammatical predicate. Others have suggested that theopneustos can be understood attributively: “all God-breathed Scripture is useful.” This interpretation remains a minority position, especially among evangelical scholars, both on grammatical grounds and because it implies a distinction between inspired and noninspired Scriptures. There is little other evidence for such a notion in the NT.

The application of the notion of inspiration to the whole of the Christian canon (OT and NT) inevitably involves some extension of the original meaning of 2 Tim. 3:16. By no account were the NT writings either composed or collected prior to the writing of 2 Timothy, and the final shape of the Christian OT canon may also have been undecided at the time 2 Tim. 3:16 was written. In postbiblical Christian theology, however, what is said of “all Scripture” (pāsa graphē) in 2 Tim. 3:16 is applied to all Christian Scripture, regardless of what was directly in view when the verse was written. It is likely that by “all Scripture,” the apostle meant nothing more than the Christian OT—that is, the books that lay before Timothy as he was educated in the faith from his infancy (2 Tim. 3:14–15). In systematic theology, the application of inspiration and other descriptors of “Scripture” to the NT writings owes much to a comment in 2 Pet. 3:16 that places the letters of Paul in the same class as “the other Scriptures” (tas loipas graphas).

Why “Inspiration”?

The sheer diversity of the modes of revelation described in the Bible raises a question: Why is “inspiration” (or, as Warfield argued, “expiration” or “breathing out”) a particularly appropriate description of God’s involvement in the production of the scriptural text? At the root of theopneustos, Greek pneuma (as well as its Hebrew cognate, ruakh) denotes several related concepts ranging from “wind” or “breath” to “spirit,” as in “the Holy Spirit.” It is from this complex of meanings that the relevance of theopneustos is evident.

Physiologically, several of the speech organs are also organs of respiration, so that the spoken word can be thought of as a kind of breathing, as in Acts 9:1: “Saul was still breathing out [empneuōn] murderous threats against the Lord’s disciples.” To speak of Scripture as “God-breathed,” then, is simply to identify it as God’s spoken utterance or word, as in the many biblical texts that introduce a scriptural utterance as “the word of the Lord” or with the phrase “thus says the Lord.” To the extent that 2 Tim. 3:16 has in view the physiological dimension of “breathing,” it extends these explicit statements of divine speaking to the whole of Scripture. In one sense, theopneustos is an anthropomorphism: God does not speak as a human, with lungs, throat, and mouth. Scripture is not God-breathed as opposed to being written by humans; the figurative breathing or speaking of God does not circumvent other processes of textual production. Again, the idea of inspiration pertains more to the authority of Scripture as revelation than to the mode of the mediation of God’s word.

As with the concept of “inspiration” itself, to speak of Scripture as the “word of God” specifies its divine authority without exhaustively describing how that word is mediated to the human author who then commits it to writing. To speak of Scripture as the “breathing out” of God is to invoke the broader concept of God’s (anthropomorphic) breath, and thus to place scriptural production among the other phenomena that are so described. These include the divine creation of life (Gen. 2:7; Job 33:4; Ezek. 37:5) and the cosmos (Ps. 33:6), divine judgment and destruction (Job 4:9; Isa. 30:33; 2 Thess. 2:8), the impartation of divine wisdom (Job 32:8), the impartation of the Holy Spirit (John 20:22), and the continuing action of God in creation (Exod. 15:10; Job 37:10; Isa. 40:7). In contrast to the living God of Israel, the idols lack breath (ruakh) and are therefore false gods (Jer. 10:14).

Equally important as the anthropomorphic description of God’s role as exhalation or speaking is the fact that pneuma refers not only to bodily breathing but also to the spirit of God—that is, the Holy Spirit. The inspiration of scriptural revelation is the particular work of the Holy Spirit, as comes to light particularly in 2 Pet. 1:20–21: “You must understand that no prophecy of Scripture came about by the prophet’s own interpretation of things. For prophecy never had its origin in the human will, but prophets, though human, spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit.” Unlike 2 Tim. 3:16, this verse gives a description of the mechanism by which God is involved in scriptural production: the Holy Spirit “carries along” humans speaking from God. Again, however, if this is to be taken as a description of the entirety of the Christian Bible, it must encompass a wide variety of literary phenomena.

As in 2 Tim. 3:16, the emphasis is on the authority and divine origin of Scripture rather than on the worldly history of the Bible. Like the adjective “God-breathed,” the Holy Spirit’s “carrying along” of the prophets is figurative and anthropomorphic, and the expression leaves many questions unanswered regarding the mode of revelation. Nevertheless, the specific mention of the role of the Holy Spirit as the divine agent of scriptural production sheds light on the term theopneustos in 2 Tim. 3:16. This is consistent with the citation formula in Acts 4:25, which quotes Ps. 2:1–2 by saying, “You [God] spoke by the Holy Spirit through the mouth of your servant, our father David.” This verse highlights several facets of the notion of the inspiration of Scripture: its character as divine speech, the agency of the Holy Spirit, and the concurrence of divine and human authorship.

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).

A literary device whereby an author writes under a name other than his or her own (a pseu-donym) or a book is deliberately assigned to a fictitious author (pseudepigraphy). In the case of ancient Jewish practice, the name borrowed was usually that of some famous worthy of the past (e.g., Enoch, Ezra), with the aim of bolstering the credentials of the book to which the name was attached. This is a common phenomenon in the Apocrypha (e.g., 2 Esdras, Baruch, Epistle of Jeremiah). It is even more common in the large collection of Second Temple texts now known as the Pseudepigrapha (e.g., 1 Enoch, Odes of Solomon, Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs). (See also Pseudepigrapha.)

Scholars continue to debate the morality of pseudonymity and whether it is proper for a pseudonymous book to be placed within the canon of Scripture. Some excuse pseudonymity as a mere stylistic device or explain it as a culturally accepted convention. Others put a positive spin on the phenomenon, and so, for example, claim that in the Pastoral Epistles literate disciples of Paul sought to apply his ideas to newly developing situations in the years following his death. Some argue that such deception for a good cause is legitimate because it helped to gain a hearing for orthodox teaching. Others totally reject pseudepigraphy, viewing it as little better than deception and forgery and thus unworthy of literature viewed as inspired by God. The last approach seems to be most consistent with a high view of Scripture.

Over the last two hundred years a number of biblical books have been identified by some scholars as pseudonymous, notably Daniel in the OT, and in the NT six letters in the Pauline corpus—Ephesians, Colossians, 2 Thessalonians, and the Pastoral Epistles (1–2 Timothy, Titus)—together with 2 Peter and Jude.

Old Testament

Certainly one mark of Jewish apocalyptic works is pseudonymity, and the book of Daniel is often viewed by critical scholars as no exception to this rule. It is difficult, however, to see how the name “Daniel” would have served to give the OT book named after him the desired authority, which is a major motivation for attaching a pseudonym.

Apart from the book itself, we essentially know nothing about this Daniel, whom it describes as living in Babylonia during the exile. In the book of Ezekiel we have two references to a Daniel (Ezek. 14:14, 20). In this passage the prophet says that when the land sins against God, “even if these three men—Noah, Daniel and Job—were in it, they could save only themselves by their righteousness.” There is, in addition, the further reference in Ezek. 14:16 to “these three men,” obviously referring to the same three men. Ezekiel speaks of these three men as embodiments of righteousness, but the fact that this Daniel figure is placed between two ancients (Noah and Job) suggests that he too is a figure of antiquity, not a contemporary of Ezekiel.

Ezekiel 28:3 taunts the king of Tyre: “Are you wiser than Daniel? Is no secret hidden from you?” Here “Daniel” (the Hebrew text at Ezek. 28:3 actually reads “Danel”) obviously is a proverbial figure of wisdom, and this implies that he may have been well known in Tyre and therefore could well have been Syro-Phoenician. There is in fact a “Danel” figure mentioned in Ugaritic literature (before 1200 BC). On the other hand, the Daniel of the book of Daniel is not a patriarch like Enoch, Noah, and Job, nor is he a famous figure like Ezra or the assistant to a prophet, as Baruch was to Jeremiah. Daniel is known only through the book that bears his name. In other words, the usual motivation explaining the use of a pseudonym does not apply to the canonical book of Daniel.

Also, the closing up and sealing of the book (Dan. 8:26; 12:4) is no mere device necessitated by using as a pseudonym the name of a man supposedly living in the time of Cyrus. Rather, the sealing signifies that much of the content of the later chapters of the book will be understood only when the predicted events begin to take place at a future time, with the book placing Daniel (its presumed author) in the sixth century BC.

New Testament

The Pastoral Epistles. With regard to the Pastoral Epistles, all three letters claim to be authored by the apostle Paul (1 Tim. 1:1; 2 Tim. 1:1; Titus 1:1). In seeking to determine the time of composition within a chronology of Paul’s ministry, they must be dated toward the end of his life (in the case of 2 Timothy, perhaps only shortly before his death) and after the close of the book of Acts, which concludes with the apostle’s arrival in Rome (Acts 28). In his letter to the Romans, Paul anticipates a future mission to Spain (Rom. 15:23–29), but the Pastoral Epistles imply that he returned to the east. Ephesus and Crete are the presumed locations of his coworkers Timothy and Titus (see 1 Tim. 1:3; Titus 1:5). On this supposition, these letters arise from a further mission there and a second (and final) imprisonment. The fact that Acts says nothing about this is no evidence against the supposition.

It is not necessary to view the mundane ecclesiastical arrangements of the Pastoral Epistles as inconsistent with a charismatic model of leadership in other Pauline letters (note the address to “overseers and deacons” in Phil. 1:1). We know from Acts 14:23; 20:17–38 that Paul appointed elders in the churches that he founded. The theological differences between the Pastoral Epistles and earlier Pauline compositions should not be overemphasized. The stress laid upon “the faith” and “sound teaching” is exactly what might be expected if Paul anticipated his imminent removal from the scene.

The other alternative is the theory that after Paul’s death, members of a Pauline school (Timothy? Luke? Onesimus?) continued to supply letters under his name, addressing contemporary church issues in the guise of Paul, hoping to guarantee the legacy of the great apostle. Some scholars go as far as to assert that an admirer of Paul combined genuine Pauline fragments within a fictitious framework. The earliest listing of Paul’s letters is that of Marcion (c. AD 140), and he fails to mention the Pastoral Epistles. That omission may be explained in various ways. There is no evidence, however, that anyone in the early church (orthodox or heterodox) who knew of the letters doubted their authenticity.

Ephesians and Colossians. There is some textual uncertainty with regard to the words “in Ephesus” in Eph. 1:1, making it possible that the letter was originally a circular letter written by Paul to more than one church. The letter mentions no one by name except Tychicus (Eph. 6:21), who carried the letter (perhaps to different churches in turn). This is enough to explain its more general orientation than some other Pauline letters, and any supposed theological “development” is not beyond the likely boundaries of Paul’s expansive mind (e.g., his teaching on the church). The use of the “in Christ” formula in Ephesians is not substantially different from how Paul handles it elsewhere. The letter’s twofold structure of doctrinal exposition followed by practical instruction fits a common Pauline epistolary pattern. Indeed, F. F. Bruce refers to this letter as “the quintessence of Paulinism.”

In a number of ways Colossians and Ephesians share a common outlook. The Jewish Christian proto-gnostic false teaching combated in Colossians is not referred to in other Pauline letters, but it may have been a local Colossian variant. The letter is explicitly attributed to Paul, at both the beginning and the end (Col. 1:1; 4:18). Arguments about authorship based on style and unusual vocabulary are notoriously slippery and inconclusive. The high Christology of cosmic dimensions in Col. 1:15–20; 2:9–10, 15 is also present in undisputed Pauline letters (cf. Phil. 2:9–11). The obvious relationship of Colossians to the little letter to Philemon (e.g., Col. 4:9, 17; cf. Philem. 2, 12) is one of the strongest arguments in favor of the Pauline authorship of the former. Any theory of pseudepigraphy turns Col. 4:7–17, with its many names, into fanciful and free invention with little real purpose. Also, we might wonder why a later author chose to write under the name of Paul to a church that Paul himself did not found.

Second Thessalonians. Some view the futuristic timetable provided in 2 Thess. 2:1–12 as moving beyond Paul, with the world’s end not yet in sight, for the writer teaches that certain things have to happen before the return of Christ, whereas in 1 Thess. 4:13–5:11 Paul has a nearer end in view. In both letters, however, the apostle is seeking to dampen the wrong kind of apocalyptic excitement. In 2 Thessalonians, it is clear that Paul knows a tradition of Jesus’ teaching about the future, such as also found in Mark 13, so that there is nothing unreasonably “late” in the views expressed.

The substantial overlap in material between 1 Thessalonians and 2 Thessalonians is not evidence of the labors of a later disciple and imitator of Paul. It is highly ironic that some scholars suggest 2 Thessalonians is not a genuine letter of Paul: the letter itself condemns a fake letter supposedly from him that claims that the day of the Lord is already past (2 Thess. 2:2), and the original letter included a final greeting written in Paul’s own hand (2 Thess. 3:17).

Second Peter and Jude. As for 2 Peter, it was not as well known in the early church as 1 Peter, and some (according to Origen) were hesitant to accept it. Its author claims to be a witness to the transfiguration (2 Pet. 1:16–18). Such personal allusions need not be attributed to a later writer who was trying too hard to show that he was Simon Peter. The obvious connection of 2 Pet. 1:14 to what is recorded in John 21 does not prove that the writer was dependent on that chapter.

The remarkable parallels between 2 Peter and Jude show that one is dependent upon the other, though scholars are not unanimous about which letter was prior. We cannot rule out that Peter would use and adapt the writings of a less prominent leader such as Jude. Jude makes use of apocryphal books, but neither in Jude nor in 2 Peter do arguments against the particular brand of false teaching require a second-century (postapostolic) dating.

A literary device whereby an author writes under a name other than his or her own (a pseu-donym) or a book is deliberately assigned to a fictitious author (pseudepigraphy). In the case of ancient Jewish practice, the name borrowed was usually that of some famous worthy of the past (e.g., Enoch, Ezra), with the aim of bolstering the credentials of the book to which the name was attached. This is a common phenomenon in the Apocrypha (e.g., 2 Esdras, Baruch, Epistle of Jeremiah). It is even more common in the large collection of Second Temple texts now known as the Pseudepigrapha (e.g., 1 Enoch, Odes of Solomon, Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs). (See also Pseudepigrapha.)

Scholars continue to debate the morality of pseudonymity and whether it is proper for a pseudonymous book to be placed within the canon of Scripture. Some excuse pseudonymity as a mere stylistic device or explain it as a culturally accepted convention. Others put a positive spin on the phenomenon, and so, for example, claim that in the Pastoral Epistles literate disciples of Paul sought to apply his ideas to newly developing situations in the years following his death. Some argue that such deception for a good cause is legitimate because it helped to gain a hearing for orthodox teaching. Others totally reject pseudepigraphy, viewing it as little better than deception and forgery and thus unworthy of literature viewed as inspired by God. The last approach seems to be most consistent with a high view of Scripture.

Over the last two hundred years a number of biblical books have been identified by some scholars as pseudonymous, notably Daniel in the OT, and in the NT six letters in the Pauline corpus—Ephesians, Colossians, 2 Thessalonians, and the Pastoral Epistles (1–2 Timothy, Titus)—together with 2 Peter and Jude.

Old Testament

Certainly one mark of Jewish apocalyptic works is pseudonymity, and the book of Daniel is often viewed by critical scholars as no exception to this rule. It is difficult, however, to see how the name “Daniel” would have served to give the OT book named after him the desired authority, which is a major motivation for attaching a pseudonym.

Apart from the book itself, we essentially know nothing about this Daniel, whom it describes as living in Babylonia during the exile. In the book of Ezekiel we have two references to a Daniel (Ezek. 14:14, 20). In this passage the prophet says that when the land sins against God, “even if these three men—Noah, Daniel and Job—were in it, they could save only themselves by their righteousness.” There is, in addition, the further reference in Ezek. 14:16 to “these three men,” obviously referring to the same three men. Ezekiel speaks of these three men as embodiments of righteousness, but the fact that this Daniel figure is placed between two ancients (Noah and Job) suggests that he too is a figure of antiquity, not a contemporary of Ezekiel.

Ezekiel 28:3 taunts the king of Tyre: “Are you wiser than Daniel? Is no secret hidden from you?” Here “Daniel” (the Hebrew text at Ezek. 28:3 actually reads “Danel”) obviously is a proverbial figure of wisdom, and this implies that he may have been well known in Tyre and therefore could well have been Syro-Phoenician. There is in fact a “Danel” figure mentioned in Ugaritic literature (before 1200 BC). On the other hand, the Daniel of the book of Daniel is not a patriarch like Enoch, Noah, and Job, nor is he a famous figure like Ezra or the assistant to a prophet, as Baruch was to Jeremiah. Daniel is known only through the book that bears his name. In other words, the usual motivation explaining the use of a pseudonym does not apply to the canonical book of Daniel.

Also, the closing up and sealing of the book (Dan. 8:26; 12:4) is no mere device necessitated by using as a pseudonym the name of a man supposedly living in the time of Cyrus. Rather, the sealing signifies that much of the content of the later chapters of the book will be understood only when the predicted events begin to take place at a future time, with the book placing Daniel (its presumed author) in the sixth century BC.

New Testament

The Pastoral Epistles. With regard to the Pastoral Epistles, all three letters claim to be authored by the apostle Paul (1 Tim. 1:1; 2 Tim. 1:1; Titus 1:1). In seeking to determine the time of composition within a chronology of Paul’s ministry, they must be dated toward the end of his life (in the case of 2 Timothy, perhaps only shortly before his death) and after the close of the book of Acts, which concludes with the apostle’s arrival in Rome (Acts 28). In his letter to the Romans, Paul anticipates a future mission to Spain (Rom. 15:23–29), but the Pastoral Epistles imply that he returned to the east. Ephesus and Crete are the presumed locations of his coworkers Timothy and Titus (see 1 Tim. 1:3; Titus 1:5). On this supposition, these letters arise from a further mission there and a second (and final) imprisonment. The fact that Acts says nothing about this is no evidence against the supposition.

It is not necessary to view the mundane ecclesiastical arrangements of the Pastoral Epistles as inconsistent with a charismatic model of leadership in other Pauline letters (note the address to “overseers and deacons” in Phil. 1:1). We know from Acts 14:23; 20:17–38 that Paul appointed elders in the churches that he founded. The theological differences between the Pastoral Epistles and earlier Pauline compositions should not be overemphasized. The stress laid upon “the faith” and “sound teaching” is exactly what might be expected if Paul anticipated his imminent removal from the scene.

The other alternative is the theory that after Paul’s death, members of a Pauline school (Timothy? Luke? Onesimus?) continued to supply letters under his name, addressing contemporary church issues in the guise of Paul, hoping to guarantee the legacy of the great apostle. Some scholars go as far as to assert that an admirer of Paul combined genuine Pauline fragments within a fictitious framework. The earliest listing of Paul’s letters is that of Marcion (c. AD 140), and he fails to mention the Pastoral Epistles. That omission may be explained in various ways. There is no evidence, however, that anyone in the early church (orthodox or heterodox) who knew of the letters doubted their authenticity.

Ephesians and Colossians. There is some textual uncertainty with regard to the words “in Ephesus” in Eph. 1:1, making it possible that the letter was originally a circular letter written by Paul to more than one church. The letter mentions no one by name except Tychicus (Eph. 6:21), who carried the letter (perhaps to different churches in turn). This is enough to explain its more general orientation than some other Pauline letters, and any supposed theological “development” is not beyond the likely boundaries of Paul’s expansive mind (e.g., his teaching on the church). The use of the “in Christ” formula in Ephesians is not substantially different from how Paul handles it elsewhere. The letter’s twofold structure of doctrinal exposition followed by practical instruction fits a common Pauline epistolary pattern. Indeed, F. F. Bruce refers to this letter as “the quintessence of Paulinism.”

In a number of ways Colossians and Ephesians share a common outlook. The Jewish Christian proto-gnostic false teaching combated in Colossians is not referred to in other Pauline letters, but it may have been a local Colossian variant. The letter is explicitly attributed to Paul, at both the beginning and the end (Col. 1:1; 4:18). Arguments about authorship based on style and unusual vocabulary are notoriously slippery and inconclusive. The high Christology of cosmic dimensions in Col. 1:15–20; 2:9–10, 15 is also present in undisputed Pauline letters (cf. Phil. 2:9–11). The obvious relationship of Colossians to the little letter to Philemon (e.g., Col. 4:9, 17; cf. Philem. 2, 12) is one of the strongest arguments in favor of the Pauline authorship of the former. Any theory of pseudepigraphy turns Col. 4:7–17, with its many names, into fanciful and free invention with little real purpose. Also, we might wonder why a later author chose to write under the name of Paul to a church that Paul himself did not found.

Second Thessalonians. Some view the futuristic timetable provided in 2 Thess. 2:1–12 as moving beyond Paul, with the world’s end not yet in sight, for the writer teaches that certain things have to happen before the return of Christ, whereas in 1 Thess. 4:13–5:11 Paul has a nearer end in view. In both letters, however, the apostle is seeking to dampen the wrong kind of apocalyptic excitement. In 2 Thessalonians, it is clear that Paul knows a tradition of Jesus’ teaching about the future, such as also found in Mark 13, so that there is nothing unreasonably “late” in the views expressed.

The substantial overlap in material between 1 Thessalonians and 2 Thessalonians is not evidence of the labors of a later disciple and imitator of Paul. It is highly ironic that some scholars suggest 2 Thessalonians is not a genuine letter of Paul: the letter itself condemns a fake letter supposedly from him that claims that the day of the Lord is already past (2 Thess. 2:2), and the original letter included a final greeting written in Paul’s own hand (2 Thess. 3:17).

Second Peter and Jude. As for 2 Peter, it was not as well known in the early church as 1 Peter, and some (according to Origen) were hesitant to accept it. Its author claims to be a witness to the transfiguration (2 Pet. 1:16–18). Such personal allusions need not be attributed to a later writer who was trying too hard to show that he was Simon Peter. The obvious connection of 2 Pet. 1:14 to what is recorded in John 21 does not prove that the writer was dependent on that chapter.

The remarkable parallels between 2 Peter and Jude show that one is dependent upon the other, though scholars are not unanimous about which letter was prior. We cannot rule out that Peter would use and adapt the writings of a less prominent leader such as Jude. Jude makes use of apocryphal books, but neither in Jude nor in 2 Peter do arguments against the particular brand of false teaching require a second-century (postapostolic) dating.

God is the all-powerful, all-knowing, morally perfect creator of the universe; and we are his creatures—no less, but also no more. Thus, an unimaginable distance must exist between God and us; and this fact has led some theologians to despair of knowing anything about him for sure, not even that he actually has these attributes of deity. It might seem, furthermore, that some biblical texts encourage such a view. Psalm 92:5 recognizes the distance: “How great are your works, O Lord, how profound your thoughts!” Psalm 145:3 says that “no one can fathom” God’s greatness. According to Ps. 147:5, “Great is our Lord and mighty in power; his understanding has no limit.” In Ps. 139:6, David tries to comprehend God’s perfect insight and concludes, “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.” The doxology of Rom. 11:33–36 exults in the uniqueness of God: “Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out!” In Isa. 55:9, God says, “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.” Based on these passages and others, and knowing what the difference between creator and creature must generally imply, one might suspect that we can know nothing of substance about God.

In fact, however, the biblical writers tell a different story, being cautiously optimistic about theology’s prospects. On the one hand, they note our creaturely limitations and God’s transcendence, as seen above. We cannot fully comprehend our Creator. We never will, not even through the eons of eternity. God will always have something more to show us about himself, more that we can learn and adore. In that sense, the biblical writers are cautious about what theology can grasp. On the other hand, we must be able to learn some things about God; otherwise, the Scriptures themselves would not exist, since they tell us about God and much else besides. Divine omnipotence, therefore, includes the ability to produce in us adequate theological understanding. We always lean on God, and no one understands him at all apart from his initiative. He remains sovereign over this event, as with any other. But God has made himself known in two general ways, according to Scripture.

General and Special Revelation

First, the biblical writers expect each of us to grasp something of God’s nature, based on what is called “general revelation.” General revelation operates in a broadcasted way, so to speak, relying upon commonplace experience and the latter’s God-given ability to make us aware of his existence and nature. We all see the heavens that “declare the glory of God” (Ps. 19:1). Paul argues that every person can detect the “invisible qualities” of God, his “eternal power and divine nature,” in what he has created, so that we have no excuse for decadent theology and behavior (Rom. 1:20). The law of God is “written on [our] hearts” (Rom. 2:15), so that we grasp what we owe to him and each other. Even though God has not spoken directly to every nation, “he has not left himself without testimony”; he has shown all people “kindness by giving [them] rain from heaven and crops in their seasons” (Acts 14:17). We can learn some things about God from these sources given to us, and thus we are accountable for right conduct in relationship to them. However, general revelation lacks the detail and assurance of what is called “special revelation.”

Special revelation differs from general revelation in having a target audience. It conveys information about God, human beings, and our world that cannot be deduced from everyday, highly accessible experience. Jesus suffered for our sins. Our trust in his death on the cross will save us. God is a Trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, though there is one God. Christ will return in power and glory to judge all nations. We can think of God as our heavenly Father, a morally perfect deity who cares about the individual person. The Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness as we wonder how to pray. God is always sovereign, even over the wicked deeds of human beings and the suffering that they cause. These are essential points of Christian doctrine. Yet we cannot substantiate any of them by carefully observing ourselves, our world, or the facts of history. Indeed, sometimes our own thoughts lead us to resist these claims because they entail great mysteries. One can easily (but wrongly) equate “I do not understand this” with “This is false.” Thus, our knowledge of these doctrines rests upon God’s willingness to speak and our readiness to hear what he says with humility and trust, without having all our questions answered. The vehicle for this latter kind of knowledge is called “special revelation.”

All revelation is “special,” simply because we can learn nothing about God apart from his self-disclosure. However, theologians use the technical term “special revelation” to capture the idea that God has revealed some matters of doctrine only to specific people, with the expectation that they will preach these truths to others as he requires them to do. These doctrinal matters include the claims given above concerning some aspects of God’s nature, his attitude toward human beings, the plan of salvation, and so forth. Thus, the Bible is special revelation par excellence; likewise, the preaching of prophets, Jesus, and then his chosen apostles (to list them in chronological order) is special revelation. Of course, since we do not have access to prophetic teaching and the life and words of Christ apart from Scripture, the latter is our sole source of special revelation. We cannot now see and hear Jesus as his first-century observers did, but we encounter him as the incarnate Word through the inerrant written word of Scripture. Theology, therefore, concerns what the Bible says about God, humanity, Christ, and so forth, and it looks to general revelation, if at all, merely to corroborate or illustrate what Scripture substantiates. Likewise, the promises of God to bless the preaching of his truth attach to special revelation rather than to what one might glean from other sources (Isa. 55:11).

The Bible as Special Revelation

The Bible stands alone in revealing who God is and showing what pleases him. Its exact contents were ordained by God through inspiration. Scripture is “God-breathed” (2 Tim. 3:16), having been produced when people “spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit” (2 Pet. 1:21). Consequently, even though prophecy occurs in NT churches (1 Cor. 14), it is not received there as the unchallengeable teaching of OT prophets, Jesus, or his apostles. Rather, observers are to weigh carefully what prophets say (1 Cor. 14:29). John expressly warns of false prophecy in the churches: “Dear friends, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world” (1 John 4:1). These facts should lead one to be cautious in using such phrases as “God told me that . . . ” and in urging other Christians to act upon anyone’s private sensations of being led by the Spirit, absent any objective reasons for doing so. Prophecy given by the Holy Spirit today should involve the application of biblical truth to present challenges and opportunities. The same principle applies to subjective promptings from the Holy Spirit. They should apply received doctrine without revising it and must always be tested by the church.

The sixty-six books of the Bible were written by real people, living in concrete historical settings, and using ordinary language. Yet they intend to speak of heavenly things and of a holy God. Consequently, theologians face the challenge of “seeing through” the Bible’s figurative statements and artistic forms to the truths they convey, but without landing in unhelpful abstractions. Most people who read the book of Exodus assume that God does not have an actual “arm” to outstretch (6:6) or a “face” that one may not see and live (33:23). But Moses chose these words to reveal something about God, and thus we have to ask how far the analogy goes and to what degree it reaches down to our human level of understanding. We know that God must somehow “talk down” to us, using our own language, even as he gives us historical and theological claims having real content. Balancing these two realities—the “otherness” of God and the earthiness of the written, human word that reveals him—is the delicate task of exegesis.

The interpreter must also negotiate the various kinds or genres of literature found in the Bible, especially the ones that seem most alien to our own ways of communicating. Our own documents do not (usually) feature the elaborate images of the book of Revelation or the structures of Hebrew poetry found in the Psalter, and we do not live in the first-century world. Therefore, to read the Scriptures correctly, we must become culturally literate, so that we see our texts through ancient Near Eastern and Greco-Roman eyes. These fields are studied with care, based on the assumption that the Bible’s forms of literature were customary for their own time. They were not entirely strange to their original audiences. Thus, they can become less strange to us; and since the Bible is fully human as well as fully divine, reading its pages through the appropriate cultural lenses will give us access to what the Spirit says to the churches.

Human Limitations

An analysis of general and special revelation should consider the so-called noetic effects of sin—that is, the effects that sin has upon our ability to reason and to learn. Human beings were created in the image of God (Gen. 1:26–27), having the capacity to interact with their Creator. They bear some “family resemblance” to God, notwithstanding their materiality and finitude. But when Adam and Eve sinned, they corrupted themselves and their descendants, so much so that Paul can describe them as being enslaved to sin and death (Rom. 5–6). Since the fall, the biblical writers have proclaimed the blindness of human beings to the things of God. All people are “under the power of sin,” and “there is no one who understands” (Rom. 3:9–11). In Eph. 2:1–3 Paul describes unrepentant sinners as being “dead in [their] transgressions and sins,” so that they follow carnal “desires and thoughts.” Even someone as naturally qualified as Nicodemus fails to see who Jesus is apart from the sovereign power of the Holy Spirit (John 3:1–15). Fallen human beings do not see what they ought to see and grasp what they ought to grasp. They can even say in their hearts, “There is no God” (Ps. 14:1).

Human beings do not have 20/20 intellectual vision, and our desires are corrupted. Consequently, we do not benefit from God’s self-revelation as Adam did, not to mention the glorified Christian who knows fully (1 Cor. 13:12). In some cases, the sinner does not want to acknowledge the disclosures of God and thus does not perceive them. Habitual sin and doc-trin-al innovation can “sear” the conscience as with an iron, making “hypocritical liars” impervious to sound teaching (1 Tim. 4:2). Although the heavens declare the glory of God, and although “in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son” (Heb. 1:2), fallen human beings will not grasp these truths. Yet they remain accountable to God because the disabling wounds of sin are self-inflicted. Even the demons of Scripture, who identify Jesus accurately, recoil from what they clearly perceive (Matt. 8:29; Mark 3:11; 5:7), as do the Pharisees who attribute the Spirit’s work to Beelzebul (Matt. 12:22–32). In these cases, the difficulty is not cognitive but affective. Character becomes intellectual destiny.

The world abounds with religious viewpoints, each one claiming to reveal how it works and what constitutes the good life. It is also unlikely that each of them contains only false statements and no true ones. On the contrary, the major rivals to Christianity gain some converts, we may assume, by including fractions of truth and addressing some perceived human needs. Islam is not wrong in its rejection of polytheism and idolatry. Buddhism is right in its belief that suffering raises key philosophical questions. However, we should avoid saying that God has actually revealed something of his nature through these sources, as if their existence were a subset of general revelation. Paul may note the Athenians’ religiosity and illustrate a point by quoting one of their poets (Acts 17:22, 28), but his overall polemic makes it clear that he views their ideas as mistaken responses to general revelation. Similar remarks would apply to cults that mix some orthodoxy, based on Scripture, with enough error to pervert the whole. God is not speaking indistinctly through them; rather, they are mishandling what he has said through the biblical writers. In this sense, therefore, the Bible stands alone as the unique word of God.

Second Peter is a model of the Christian approach to those who are tempted to follow another gospel.

Outline

I. Greetings (1:1–2)

II. Put God’s Grace to Work (1:3–11)

III. Remember the Basis for Your Faith (1:12–21)

IV. Reject False Teachers (2:1–22)

V. On This Basis, Look to the Future (3:1–18)

Authorship and Date

The author is identified as “Simeon” Peter, using the Hebrew spelling of the name (1:1 ESV, NRSV; cf. Acts 15:14). He is “a servant and apostle of Jesus Christ” (1:1; cf. Rom. 1:1; Titus 1:1; James 1:1; Jude 1) and an eyewitness of his transfiguration (1:16–18; cf. Mark 9:2). He speaks affectionately of Paul as a colleague (3:15). He bases his argument against false teachers on the Scriptures and his own testimony as well as that of the other eyewitnesses (1:16; cf. 1 Pet. 5:1) of Jesus’ work. He refers (3:1) to an earlier letter that he wrote to the same people, probably a reference to 1 Peter.

A number of second-century authorities report that Peter ministered in Rome, on and off, for up to twenty-five years prior to his execution by Nero in AD 65. Here he speaks of his own imminent execution, recalling Jesus’ words to him (1:14; cf. John 21:19). He speaks of having taken steps to ensure that his testimony will be available after his death, which may be an allusion to Mark’s Gospel, as later Christian writers tell us.

Toward the end of the second century some doubted the authenticity of 2 Peter. A number of works had appeared in the second century claiming to be by Peter. The early church was well aware of the use of forgeries written in the names of the apostles to spread false teaching (even during their lifetimes [cf. 2 Thess. 2:2]). It appears that 2 Peter was not as widely known or used as 1 Peter, but the early church affirmed and defended the authenticity of both letters.

Destination

The letter gives no indication of its destination other than the reference to a former letter in 3:1. If this former letter was 1 Peter, then 2 Peter would have been sent to the same communities (Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia [so 1 Pet. 1:1]). This possibility is supported by the similar use of traditions concerning Noah and Enoch in both letters. However, 1 Peter gives no indication that Peter had any personal acquaintance with his addressees, whereas 2 Peter does (1:16). Given the extensive allusions to Jewish traditions not found in the OT, we can conclude that Peter was writing to Jewish Christians to whom these traditions had a strong appeal.

Relationship to the Epistle of Jude

Second Peter 2 and Jude 4–21 are extraordinarily similar not only in content and wording but also in their order. Scholars have speculated as to which author used the work of the other or whether both used a common source. We have no evidence that would settle the question. What we do know is that both letters interact heavily with the traditions associated with 1 Enoch.

These Enochic traditions differ from the teachings of the Pharisees and the Sadducees. They were accepted as authentic and authoritative at least by the Qumran community/Essenes (cf. CD-A 6:1–6; Jub. 1.1–9; 4.17–19). Whereas Jude (14–15) cites 1 En. 1.9 directly, 2 Peter only speaks about these stories.

According to the Enochic traditions, salvation was for ethnically pure Israel, observing rigorously the specifications for worship and lifestyle laid down in these pseudepigraphical revelations. While this tradition expected a day of judgment similar to that set forth in the Scriptures, it differed with the Christian gospel in its understanding of the origins of sin and evil (people are initially victims, not perpetrators) and of the way of salvation (rigorously keeping the Enochic rules). The Son of Man (of Dan. 7:13–14) is Enoch (1 En. 71), not Jesus. There is no place here for a crucified Messiah whose death would atone for sin, for the abandonment of OT food laws and sacrifices, or the acceptance of uncircumcised Gentiles into the assembly.

Second Peter and Jude deal in the strongest terms with false teachers who profess to base their teaching on fraudulent revelations (2 Pet. 1:16; Jude 1:8) and who deny Jesus as Lord. This tradition focused heavily on the Zadokite priesthood and the need to restore a pure temple. Peter and Jude’s polemic makes extensive connections between false teaching and all manner of corruption and uncleanness that would disqualify such a priesthood (2 Pet. 2:2, 10, 13, 15, 19, 22; cf. 1 Pet. 2:1–10; Jude 8, 11–13, 16).

The similarities between the two letters probably are the result of the two authors conferring together in some way. We know that Peter and his family traveled on missionary work, as did the brothers of Jesus (1 Cor. 9:5). We do not know where Jude was when either of these letters was written. The urgency that provoked Jude’s letter is also reflected in 2 Peter. The church was facing physical persecution in Rome as well as these false teachers who sought to lead Jewish believers away from Jesus. Meanwhile, Roman control of Judea was crumbling.

Main Themes

Second Peter focuses first on the work of God in Christ, which saves those who believe in Jesus (1:3). This faith is based on the knowledge of God and of Jesus (1:2) and is a response to the gospel call. God has given to the believer everything needed to live in a godly way, to endure, and to discern truth from error so as to die assured of not having been deceived (1:4).

Peter grounds that assurance in the Scriptures (1:19–21), in the testimony of the eyewitnesses of Jesus (1:12–16), including himself, and in the writings of the apostle Paul, to whom Jesus had given wisdom for this purpose (3:15–16). One develops certainty in the faith not only by referring to these sources but also by putting the faith into practice (1:5, 10, 15). The faith then is rooted in history, not in “cleverly invented stories” (1:16). Consequently, Peter expresses his passion to see that his eyewitness account will be accessible to the next generation (1:14–15).

He speaks plainly of “Scripture” as an identifiable body of texts written at the instigation of the Holy Spirit (1:20–21) and places the writings of Paul on the same level (3:16). By this, Peter implies that his letter is to be received as carrying the same authority and usefulness.

False teachers are a permanent challenge to God’s people. Doctrine and behavior are products of each other (2:1–3).

Peter is particularly concerned that his readers not think that Jesus’ delay in appearing is proof that the apostolic witnesses were wrong (3:3–4). Jesus has not returned because were he to do so, it would end all opportunity for unbelievers to hear the gospel and be saved (3:9). God is gracious and long-suffering and is calling his people to reflect his character by giving people the opportunity to be saved. His patience is salvation (3:15). The gospel mission, then, provides the second motivation for the believer to practice the faith (3:11–16) and not waver.

Second Peter ends by challenging believers to constantly grow in the knowledge and grace of Christ (3:17–18).

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.

The event in which Jesus’ inward, hidden glory became visible for his inner circle of disciples (Peter, James, John) to see. The episode is recorded in Matt. 16:28–17:8; Mark 9:1–8; Luke 9:27–36 and is alluded to in 2 Pet. 1:16–21. The Gospel episode may be summarized as follows: Immediately after Peter confessed that Jesus was the Christ, Jesus predicted that some of his disciples would not see death until they tasted of the kingdom of God. Some six days later (Luke rounds it off to eight days [Luke 9:28]), Jesus took Peter, James, and John to a mountaintop (traditionally identified as Mount Tabor, though Mount Hermon may be more likely since it was close to Caesarea Philippi, the place of Peter’s confession). There, suddenly, the inward, hidden glory of Jesus shone through his body, and he was seen conversing with Moses and Elijah. Peter wanted his companions to build booths, temporary shelters, to prolong the visit of the three heavenly personages: Moses, the representative of the law; Elijah, the representative of the prophets; and Jesus, the Messiah. But God the Father mildly rebuked Peter, announcing that Jesus is his beloved Son; he is the preeminent one, the one who should be heard.

Second Peter 1:16–21 simply says that Peter was an eyewitness of the transfiguration, and that the divine voice that he heard proclaiming Jesus to be the Son of God is the same voice speaking through him in his letter confirming that the second coming of Christ will truly happen.

Four prophetic themes emerge from the transfiguration episode.

1. Some of the disciples did indeed taste of the kingdom of God during their lifetime, for the transfiguration provided for them a foretaste of the glorious splendor that will accompany Christ at his second coming.

2. Moses and Elijah conversing with Jesus on the mountain perhaps indicates that the law (Moses) and the prophets (Elijah) find their fulfillment in Jesus the Messiah.

3. In Luke’s Gospel the transfiguration itself conveys a prophetic word: Jesus was to suffer and die and then enter heavenly glory. Luke 9:31 says that Moses and Elijah were conversing with Jesus about his “exodus” (NIV mg.) in Jerusalem—that is, his death and resurrection, the basis of a new exodus for the people of God. This is confirmed by Jesus’ instruction to his disciples as they descended the mountain of the transfiguration that they should tell no one what they had seen until he rose from the dead (Matt. 17:9; Mark 9:9; cf. Luke 9:44). This theme of suffering fits a threefold pattern that occurs especially in Mark’s Gospel: (1) Jesus predicts his upcoming death in Jerusalem (8:31; 9:9, 31–32; 10:33–34); (2) his disciples in one way or another reject the truth that Jesus came to be a suffering Messiah (8:32–33; 9:10–11, 33–34; 10:35–41); (3) Jesus corrects his disciples’ misunderstanding/rejection of the suffering nature of his messiahship (8:34–38; 9:12–13, 35–37; 10:42–45). The message in all of this is clear: first the sufferings of the cross and then the glory of the kingdom. This would be true for both Jesus and his disciples.

4. The presence of Elijah at the transfiguration also confirmed the disciples’ recent conclusion that Jesus was the Messiah. According to Mal. 4:5, Elijah was to be the forerunner of the Messiah. Jesus agreed, pointing out to the three disciples that Elijah had indeed come in the person of John the Baptist and that he himself, like John, would first suffer before entering into the glory of the messianic kingdom.