Dan Olinger

"If the Bible is true, then none of our fears are legitimate, none of our frustrations are permanent, and none of our opposition is significant."

Dan Olinger

Chair, Division of Biblical Studies & Theology,

Bob Jones University

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Archives for March 2023

On God As Lord, Part 2

March 29, 2023 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1

The crowd thinks that these babeling (yeah, I meant to spell it that way) Christians are drunk. Peter, the leader of the group, and apparently still impetuous, even after being baptized in the Spirit, can’t let that slander stand. He speaks up.

He denies that they’re drunk. It’s only 9 am. How could all these people be drunk this early in the day?

And then he begins what one commentator has called “the first Christian sermon ever preached.” I suppose. If you don’t count the ones by Christ. Or the centurion at the cross.

He takes as his text a passage from Joel 2.28-32 (Ac 2.16-21). God, the prophet said, would pour out his Spirit on all flesh.

This is a new thing.

In the Hebrew Scripture, what we call the Old Testament, the Spirit “came upon” relatively few people—warriors facing battle, sometimes, and some of the prophets. Joel foresees a day when “all flesh” would receive this gift: men and women, young and old, even servants. This would be a decisive shift in the timeline of history, what Joel calls “the last days.” That’s what’s going on at Pentecost, at Jerusalem, in the days after Jesus’ resurrection.

Peter continues his quotation of Joel beyond that. He describes astonishing things, apocalyptic things: “blood and fire and vapor and smoke” as well as changes in the heavenly bodies (Ac 2.19-20).

Hmm. Don’t see any of that happening there in Jerusalem.

Interpreters have taken different views of what’s happening here. Some say Joel’s prophecy wasn’t fulfilled at all, because none of it will happen until the end of the world. All Peter was doing was using it as an illustration. I find it difficult to square that assessment with Peter’s direct words: “this is that which was spoken by the prophet Joel” (Ac 2.16).

Others say that Joel’s prophecy was completely fulfilled at Pentecost—that references to the sun and moon are symbolic, meaning that the earthly powers will be humbled before the reigning Christ. I find that one unsatisfying as well, because there’s nothing in Joel’s prophecy to indicate to the reader that he’s moving from literal prophecy (the pouring out of God’s Spirit) to symbolic prophecy (the earthly authorities being described as the sun and the moon).

Which leaves us with a third possibility: Joel’s prophecy is partially, but not completely, fulfilled here. The pouring out of God’s Spirit on all flesh initiates a new age, which will eventuate in the apocalyptic events he describes. His prophecy plays out over a long period of time—so far, more than two millennia. Pentecost is the beginning of the “last days,” when God’s plan for history and eternity will come to maturity and fruition.

Why now? Why is the pivot point of all time here?

Peter proceeds to explain. He brings up, for the first time to this audience, the name of Jesus of Nazareth (Ac 2.22).

  • This man was endorsed by God, who empowered him to work miracles, mighty acts that some of those in the audience themselves had witnessed (Ac 2.22).
  • He was executed as part of the very plan of this God, who directs all things according to his will and for the goal of his glory (Ac 2.23).
  • And he was resurrected because God is Lord over death as well as life (Ac 2.24).

Why did God do these things? Because he had promised that he would not leave this one in the grave (Ac 2.25-28). Peter here cites another prophecy, this one by King David, in Psalm 16.8-11. But wasn’t David talking about himself? Didn’t he say, “You will not leave my soul in the grave”? Peter sees this objection coming, and he answers it conclusively.

David, he says, is still dead, a thousand years later. But David was a prophet—here his hearers would agree with him—and he knew that God would fulfill his promise to him, to have a king eternally on his throne (2S 7.12-16), even after he was dead.

This God is Lord over all. He empowers his people—ordinary people—to speak in the tribal languages of all present in this thronging crowd. He endorses an itinerant Galilean preacher, and that simple endorsement changes everything about how we view the man. He directs in the hearts of kings to arrest and execute this preacher, thereby perfectly fulfilling his plan. And then he raises him from the dead, demonstrating his lordship over unearthly as well as earthly powers.

Lord.

And there’s more to come.

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: Acts, lordship, New Testament, Pentecost, systematic theology, theology proper

On God As Lord, Part 1

March 27, 2023 by Dan Olinger 2 Comments

It’s been said that biblical Christianity is not a religion, but a relationship. I’ve said before that the Bible uses metaphors of multiple relationships to describe our relationship with God. It’s as though no single human relationship can embrace all the complexities included in our relationship with God. Over the years I’ve thought of nearly 20 such metaphors.

In recent posts I’ve meditated on God’s standing as Father and as Husband, two of the most common metaphors in the Scripture. Here I’d like to do something similar for a third, his standing as Lord.

I could do that, I suppose, by surveying all the Bible verses that reference this concept. That would guarantee me something to write about for the rest of my life, and it would be a worthwhile study for both of my readers. But I think I’ll approach the topic in the same way I did the topic of God as Husband: I’ll choose a single passage that discusses the topic robustly and then see what’s to be found there. The passage is Acts 2, and as you know from the reference, the event is Pentecost.

For Israel God arranged a calendar designed to keep his people in constant fellowship with him. In addition to the weekly Sabbath, there were annual holidays, involving either fasting or feasting. Three of those holidays—Passover, Pentecost, and Booths—were designated as “pilgrimage feasts,” when the Law required all Jewish males to appear before God, first at the Tabernacle and later at the Temple. By New Testament times, of course, this meant coming to Jerusalem, to Herod’s Temple, the grandest Temple yet.

Pentecost occurred 50 days (thus the name) after Passover, which would be in our late spring (late May this year). Because weather was typically good, this festival was usually very well attended, with Jews returning to their homeland from all across the empire. It was a time of reunions, good food, and great rejoicing.

Luke tells us that the day “was fulfilled” (Ac 2.1). Some commentators see that wording as prophetically significant—that Luke was saying more than that a date on the calendar had come. John Polhill writes, “The ‘fulfillment’ language bears more weight than mere chronology as the fulfillment of the time of the divine promise for the gift of the Spirit (1:4f.). The time of waiting was over” (Acts, The New American Commentary Series, 96). He notes another passage (Lk 9.51) where the same author, Luke, uses the expression to mark another key turning point in the history of salvation, the crucifixion.

In the midst of all this hubbub, Jesus’ disciples gathered, perhaps in the Upper Room, but certainly inside a building (Ac 2.2), when to their surprise, the Spirit of God arrived and manifested himself in a most unusual way—a way not described anywhere else in biblical history. There was a sound of rushing wind (Ac 2.2), and tongues of fire appeared over their heads (Ac 2.3). And then they all began to speak in foreign languages—not because they knew those languages, but because “the Spirit gave them utterance” (Ac 2.4).

I think it’s safe to assume that at this point the small group of disciples erupted from the “house” and began speaking in those foreign languages to the massive crowd out in the street (Ac 2.5-6). This crowd was astonished. Those from the far reaches of the Empire were hearing the good news spoken, not in Greek, not in Aramaic or Hebrew, but in their local tribal languages—Elamite, from way east in Persia (Iran), and Cyrenian, from way west in North Africa. (That’s a 1500-mile spread, which covers pretty much the whole known world at the time—Marco Polo having not yet informed the “known world” of an entire well-developed civilization yet farther to the east.)

The crowds were perplexed. How did these people know all these languages?

Someone suggested that the disciples were drunk.

Now, I’ve talked to a lot of drunk people in my time, and never once has being drunk helped anyone speak any language more clearly.

There has to be a more sensible explanation.

Do you hear echoes of Babel?

The God over all nations, who once scattered its people around the globe by confusing their languages (Ge 11.1-9), now gathers its people from across the globe and brings them grace instead of judgment, using those very languages, or at least their linguistic descendants.

God is great, and he is good.

More next time.

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: Acts, lordship, New Testament, Pentecost, systematic theology, theology proper

On God As Husband, Part 4

March 23, 2023 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

How does Hosea act out God’s covenant love for his people?

He pursues his wife, to get her back.

God says, “Go again, love a woman who is loved by another man and is an adulteress, even as the Lord loves the children of Israel, though they turn to other gods and love cakes of raisins” (Hos 3.1).

One commentator says, “They turn to other gods and love—what do they love?—raisin cakes! These were probably used in Canaanite rituals. They show just how carnal and unworthy is Israel’s outlook” (New Bible Commentary, 769).

So Hosea finds his wife and buys her back (Hos 3.2). Apparently she has sold herself into slavery, perhaps to get enough food and shelter to survive. Like the prodigal son, she has learned that a life of licentiousness is one not of freedom. She is not in an attractive state, but her husband pays the redemption price.

She is now technically and legally his slave. The penalty for adultery is death, and he could take her to the civil authorities for execution, but he does not choose that route. (That calls to mind the thinking of Joseph, “a just man,” about Mary in Mt 1.19.) He tells her that she is to live under his support and without immorality, but also apparently without marital relations, for a period of time (Ho 3.3). This is to illustrate the fact that Israel will be exiled, without a king, for “many days” (Hos 3.4).

But the time will come when Israel will seek to return to David her king (Ho 3.5). In Hosea’s time David was long dead; we know that the one she will seek is David’s greater Son, the Lord Jesus, the Christ (Ac 2.29-36).

One commentator notes,

The pain was just a step along the way of God’s efforts, not to destroy, but to get his people to respond to his love. … The pain was caused by their sin but was motivated by God’s loving desire to restore their original relationship of love and obedience. The pain is designed not to make believers run away from God but back to him (Tyndale Concise Bible Commentary, 323).

That day has not yet fully come. Israel today remains resistant to the rule of its Messiah, though many individuals from that nation have recognized and believed in him. But in the meantime, as Paul has noted, God has used this ongoing resistance to bring into his kingdom all nations of the world:

Now if their trespass means riches for the world, and if their failure means riches for the Gentiles, how much more will their full inclusion mean! (Ro 11.12).

This is about more than Hosea, and it’s about more than Israel.

It’s about more than “the heart of Gomer, who cannot remain faithful, and the heart of Hosea, who cannot abandon his commitment” (Bible Reader’s Companion, 523).

It’s about God, and it’s about us.

The chastisement of God’s people took place within the context of God’s unchanging commitment. His goal through discipline was his people’s perfection, never his people’s eternal destruction. Through his unfailing love, God desired to inspire a similar love in his people. Hosea emphasized that the essence of God’s kingdom was a relationship of response to God’s love (Tyndale Concise Bible Commentary, 322).

We have a heavenly Husband, who loves us as no other ever has or ever will. We need to leave our trivial paper gods and serve Him with our whole hearts.

He is our Husband. Let us love Him.

Photo by Sandy Millar on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: Hosea, marriage, Old Testament, systematic theology, theology proper

On God As Husband, Part 3 

March 20, 2023 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1 | Part 2

Hosea’s experience with his wife Gomer is not just an ancient story with an obvious moral: marry someone with the character to be loyal. This is a story that began because God commanded it, with a command contrary to all common sense: “Marry a woman who will not be faithful” (Hos 1.2).

Unlike pretty much everyone else in the story, Hosea does what God tells him to—thereby condemning himself to a miserable marital relationship.

Why would God command such a thing?

God exercises flawless teaching technique, and he often uses educational methods that have proven over centuries to be highly effective. For example, he has Ezekiel repeatedly act out scenes for the exiled Jews in Babylon (Ezk 4.1-8, 9-17; 5.1-4; 12.3-7, 17-20). Here he’s going to use a case study, implemented experientially, so its lessons will hit close to home and be both highly impactful and long remembered.

Hosea is going to be a character, the lead character, in a morality play. And, astonishingly, he’s going to play the part of God, at God’s request. A command performance, if you will. What actor would take on such a role, and at such real personal sacrifice?

Hosea’s marriage represents God’s marital relationship with Israel. He entered into a covenant with them at Sinai, a covenant most thoroughly expressed in the book of Deuteronomy, which Moses wrote down and delivered to the people just before they entered into the land that God had promised to them. He had made promises to them, great and precious promises, and they had responded with a corporate shout, “All that the Lord has spoken we will do!” (Ex 19.8). But from almost that very day the people had turned away and demonstrated a shallow view of the marriage and a lackadaisical commitment to it.

Now, centuries later, their pattern of infidelity has been consistent. Through the shocking infidelity of Gomer, Hosea’s wife, God illustrates the many ways his people have broken his heart.

Let me count the ways.

  • She has worshiped other gods (Hos 2.8, 13), which God calls “other lovers.” Idolatry, seen clearly, is spiritual adultery, even prostitution (Ezk 16.33). From its first days as a nation under Jeroboam I, the northern kingdom of Israel had worshiped at shrines—golden calves—in Bethel and Dan (the southern and northern regions of their land) (1K 12.25-33). King Ahab married the Canaanite princess Jezebel and then built a shrine to Baal in Samaria (1K 16.29-33). The astonishing thing is that Baal, the Canaanite god, was the supposed protector and prosperer of the Canaanites, whom Joshua’s army had defeated in battle. How does it make sense to worship the gods of the people you’ve just defeated?! This is not only faithless, but it’s just, well, stupid.
  • She has failed in her obligation to know the Law and its Lord. She is not practicing the attributes of God—truthfulness, faithfulness, kindness (Hos 4.1). She is not loving her neighbor. She has no interest in knowing what the Law teaches about God, let alone practicing it in daily life. She has rejected the Covenant.
  • She is turning to other champions—her own military leaders, and alliances with other nations such as Assyria and Egypt—for her strength and security (Hos 1.7).
  • She is practicing social Darwinism, with the powerful and connected taking advantage of—abusing—the weak, the poor. “There is swearing, lying, murder, stealing, and committing adultery; they break all bounds, and bloodshed follows bloodshed” (Hos 4.2).

So they have broken, and continue to break, the two great commandments: to love God, and to love your neighbor. Over centuries. Despite national commitment and promise to treasure the special relationship that God has granted them.

How does God respond to this?

He speaks with anticipation of the day when he will woo her back to himself (Hos 2.14-23), when his unfaithful wife will call him “my husband” and not just “my lord” (Hos 2.16). He speaks of “steadfast covenant love” (hesed) in his relationship with her (Hos 2.19). He still loves her and wants her back.

And as we shall see, Hosea will act out that role perfectly.

Part 4

Photo by Sandy Millar on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: Hosea, marriage, Old Testament, systematic theology, theology proper

On God As Husband, Part 2

March 16, 2023 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1

Chapters 1 and 2 of Hosea tell us about his marriage relationship, which is, to say the least, pathological. God tells Hosea, “Go and marry a woman of promiscuity, and have children of promiscuity” (Hos 1.2).

Now, right away we have an interpretational problem. Did God tell Hosea to marry a prostitute? The difficulty we have with that prospect has led to a host of suggested interpretations—

  • Some have suggested that the command was not literal. John Calvin and Carl Friedrich Keil, both noted commentators, hold this view. Perhaps she was an idol worshiper; God frequently calls idol worship spiritual adultery. But this still seems objectionable; why would a prophet of God marry an idol worshiper?
  • Perhaps she wasn’t promiscuous before they married but became promiscuous later. The New Bible Commentary makes this suggestion, as do others.
  • But maybe the text means what it says; she was promiscuous, even a prostitute, before her marriage. This is the view of the New American Commentary and many others. It certainly illustrated Israel’s history accurately; she was sinful when God executed His covenant with her. And there was no lack of such women in Israel (Hos 4.14). Perhaps she was a Baal cult prostitute, a pagan practice designed to encourage the gods to grant the land fertility. It was against the Mosaic Law for priests to marry any woman who was not a virgin, but there’s no indication that Hosea was a priest.

I would suggest that attempts to soften the situation miss the point. As will become clear, Gomer’s sin represents Israel’s sin and by extension our own, which is heinous, brutal, and sociopathic. We were sinners when God found us, and that’s the whole point!

In the normal course of events, this marriage yields children, beginning in the very next verse.

The first child is a boy. God instructs Hosea to name him Jezreel, for the valley where Jehu had judged Ahab’s idolatrous line in the past (2K 10.1-11) and where God will carry out judgment (Hos 1.3-5).

The second child is a girl, whom God instructs Hosea to name Lo-Ruhamah, or “no mercy.” This is a clear prophecy of the coming judgment; God is no longer extending mercy to his unfaithful wife. In his paraphrase of the passage, Eugene Peterson renders God’s statement as “I’m fed up with Israel.”

This is astonishing. God is longsuffering, patient. Can the patience of an infinite God be exhausted? Has he broken his covenant promises to Abraham? to David?

No, he hasn’t. In the next sentence (Hos 1.7) he contrasts his judgment on Israel, the Northern Kingdom, with his mercy toward Judah, the Southern Kingdom. Judah is where the sons of David rule—and while they’re a mixed bunch in terms of their obedience to God, his mercy continues there. For now.

Hosea’s wife has one more child, a son. Again God himself names the boy: Lo-Ammi, or “Not my people.” I don’t know, maybe Hosea wasn’t confident of the boy’s paternity?

And with this name, God makes explicit what was only implied by the daughter’s name: Israel is no longer God’s people; the covenant is reversed.

Now it’s horrific.

But again, in the very next sentence God assures these idolaters that the reversal, the judgment, is only temporary:

10 Yet the number of the children of Israel shall be like the sand of the sea, which cannot be measured or numbered. And in the place where it was said to them, “You are not my people,” it shall be said to them, “Children of the living God.” 11 And the children of Judah and the children of Israel shall be gathered together, and they shall appoint for themselves one head. And they shall go up from the land, for great shall be the day of Jezreel (Hos 1.10-11).

Verse 10 in particular should sound familiar to us, as it undoubtedly did to Israel. This is the wording of the Abrahamic Covenant itself (Ge 22.17)—which was unconditional. God’s patience is not in fact exhausted.

In the end, God is faithful, even when his people are not.

In the next chapter Hosea is going to make explicit the spiritual lessons of his troubled marriage.

More on that next time.

Part 3 | Part 4

Photo by Sandy Millar on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: Hosea, marriage, Old Testament, systematic theology, theology proper

On God As Husband, Part 1

March 13, 2023 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

In the previous series we’ve looked at one of the facets, or metaphors, of our relationship with God: he is our Father. It seems appropriate now to turn to another metaphor, that of husband.

This relationship is commonly acknowledged among Christians, but there is surprisingly little biblical information about it. I suppose most people think first of Ephesians 5.22-33, where husbands are instructed to love their wives in the same way that Christ loves the church. This passage is the text for the pastor’s charge in pretty much every wedding ever performed. I’ve been convinced by a colleague, however, that this passage is commonly misinterpreted. Dr. Gary Reimers, a longtime friend and professor at BJU Seminary, has observed that the husbands are instructed “to love their wives as their own bodies” (Ep 5.28)—and since this same epistle notes that the church is Christ’s body (Ep 1.22-23), then to love “as their own bodies” is to love like Christ (Ep 5.25). So I don’t view this passage as primarily presenting Christ under the metaphor of husband.

That leaves just two other New Testament passages that speak of Christ having a bride. The more well-known of those, I suppose, is Revelation 21, which speaks of “the bride, the Lamb’s wife” (Re 21.9). Earlier John has heard an announcement of the pending “marriage of the Lamb” (Re 19.7), at which his wife is dressed in “fine linen [which] is the righteousness of the saints” (Re 19.8). Now he sees “the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband” (Re 21.2). But here the bride is said to be not the church, but the New Jerusalem, which I would say includes the church but is more than that.

The other passage, less well known, is 2Corinthians 11.2, where Paul tells the Corinthian church that he has “espoused you to one husband, that I may present you as a chaste virgin to Christ.” But that stops short of saying that the universal church is the bride of Christ, although I think it’s safe to assume that by extension from the passage.

So I think there’s little to no clear biblical evidence for the statement that “the church is the bride of Christ.”

But in the Hebrew Scriptures God regularly describes himself as the husband of his people. And since the Old Testament saints will be in the New Jerusalem as certainly as we, I think we can legitimately apply what God says there to our relationship with him as children of Abraham by faith (Ga 3.7).

Several OT passages speak to this relationship. Isaiah 54.5 mentions it, and Ezekiel 16 speaks very directly of Israel’s idolatry as sin against God her husband. But I suppose that the most concentrated and well-developed description of this relationship is in the prophecy of Hosea.

Hosea writes during the reign of Jeroboam II (Hos 1.1), in the waning days of the Northern Kingdom of Israel. You can read about the culture of Israel at this time in 2Kings 17. It’s not a pretty picture. One commentator writes, “This is a period when Israel is prosperous, proud and pagan—and thoughts of God and judgment seems ridiculous.”[1] Hosea writes to explain the reasons for the Assyrian judgment (e.g. Hos 12.8) and, perhaps surprisingly, to give hope for the future (e.g. Hos 13.14; 14.4-9).

Much of Hosea’s prophecy follows the standard outline of the Old Testament prophets:

  • Israel’s sin (chapters 4-7)
  • Coming judgment (chapters 8-10)
  • Future restoration (chapters 11-14)

But the book begins with an illustration from Hosea’s marriage, a metaphor for God’s relationship with his people. Hosea’s marriage is not typical (!), but it tells us much about our relationship to God as our Husband. 1Peter 2.10 applies the names of Hosea’s children to the church, as does Paul in Romans 9.22-26 (note “not from the Jews only, but also from the Gentiles,” Ro 9.24).

So let’s glean what we can from this remarkable story of a failed and restored relationship.

More next time.


[1] Andrew Knowles, The Bible Guide (Minneapolis: Augsburg), 353.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Photo by Sandy Millar on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: Hosea, marriage, Old Testament, systematic theology, theology proper

On God as Our Father, Part 5: Accountability

March 9, 2023 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Likeness | Part 3: Provision | Part 4: Oversight

A father’s oversight leads easily and directly to the final characteristic of fathers that Jesus teaches in his Sermon on the Mount.

As fathers pay attention to us, they also hold us accountable. When we occasionally (?!) engage in risky or outright harmful behavior, they step in, both to prevent injury and to teach us the importance of doing what older and wiser people tell us to do.

This brings us to the topic of authority, obedience, and discipline.

We live in an age when authority is often abused, and when pretenders to authority seek to abuse the compliant. I think it’s important to note that not all authority is pathological, and there is a healthy way to hold and exercise authority. A good father doesn’t view his authority as primarily about himself or his machismo; he uses his position of strength to guide his charges down a path that is in their own best interests—that will prevent physical injury or death, or negative social or psychological or spiritual consequences. And he does that gently, that’s in a way that is appropriate and healthy for the maturity level of the child. Further, he does it out of love for the child, not for the protection of his status or manhood.

In that light, we’re in a position to understand Jesus’ teaching toward the end of the Sermon that the kingdom of heaven is limited to “the one who does the will of my Father in heaven” (Mt 7.21).

God is not a bully, fearful that his authority will be questioned or eventually overridden. How can an omnipotent God be insecure? How can an omniscient God be fearful? Can I say something reverently? God is comfortable in his own skin. He has nothing to prove and no need for applause or encouragement. He calls for worship not because he needs the personal boost, but because worship is what most directly assures our personal growth and positive outcome; it’s in our best interest, and as our Creator, Father, and the one who loves us most, he is devoted to that outcome for us.

In a very real sense, God’s call for obedience is not a threat; it’s an invitation to joy and perfect fulfillment.

It’s an act of supreme love.

Even the necessary occasional chastening.

The Scripture affirms this repeatedly:

  • As a father shows compassion to his children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him (Ps 103.13)
  • For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” (Ro 8.15).
  • See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are (1J 3.1).

I have known many people who have grown up without a father. The consequences of that, both in personal pain and in frequent outcomes, is substantial. I have known some of them to find healing, hope, and even joy from finding a relationship with a heavenly Father who supplies what their earthly father did not.

I can testify that my heavenly Father has never mistreated or abused me; that he has ever watched out for my needs and supplied them consistently, completely, and abundantly—far more than I needed. And often in ways that I could not have imagined in my simple prayers.

How, then, do we respond to Him? As sons and daughters—with reverence, obedience, loyalty, and love, looking to and depending on Him for our provision. 

So.

Grace, mercy, and peace to you, my friends, from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. 

Photo by Derek Thomson on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: fatherhood, Matthew, New Testament, Sermon on the Mount, systematic theology, theology proper

On God as Our Father, Part 4: Oversight

March 6, 2023 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Likeness | Part 3: Provision

Our earthly fathers have duties that continue. One that surely comes to mind is oversight. That’s a duty of both parents—and older siblings as well—but again, fathers, because they usually are physically stronger than anyone else in a young family, are seen not only as providers but also as overseers, those who watch for the needs of the family (particularly physical and financial needs) and act to meet them when they arise.

Contrariwise, we don’t think much of a father who’s so wrapped up in his work, or the ball game, or the news, that his wife’s or child’s needs go unnoticed or unattended to.

A good Dad pays attention.

God is like that.

Jesus says, “Your Father … sees in secret” (Mt 6.18). And he’s not talking here about spying on you; he’s talking about seeing what good things you do and rewarding you for them. Dads watch for accomplishments, delight in them, and express praise.

Jesus continues the thought by adding that because your Father is paying attention, he also notices when you have a need (Mt 6.32). And because he’s your Father, he moves to meet that need.

In 1989 my wife and I, and our 12-month-old daughter, were traveling to Pennsylvania to spend Christmas with family. As was our practice, we split the 12-hour trip into two days for a more relaxing drive. We spent the night at a motel in southwestern Virginia, and Christmas Eve morning we set out to finish the trip.

It was unusually cold that morning—below zero Fahrenheit—and I was a bad father; it never occurred to me to check the antifreeze before starting out. If I had, I’d have seen that the radiator was frozen solid. A few miles up the road, as the system began to heat up, the lower radiator hose exploded. Steam was everywhere, and it was challenging to see to get the car safely off the interstate highway.

Pretty quickly I determined that it was the coolant system, not the engine. I knew we were just two or three miles from the next exit, and I figured that with the cold air, we might be able to make it there without coolant. Fired ‘er up and set off slowly, in the breakdown lane. When the engine temp began to rise, I stopped again and waited for it to cool down.

That worked twice, but the cold temperatures also cut down on the battery’s cranking power, and on the third try the engine wouldn’t crank.

Stuck by the side of the highway at 5 below. Because I hadn’t paid attention.

I marveled at how quickly we had gone from comfort and civilization to utter wilderness.

We sat for a while, hoping that a highway patrolman would come along, but there wasn’t much traffic, and soon the cold began to be a concern for us, with a 12-month-old in the car. I got out and flagged down a passing car, and an older couple gave me a ride to the exit.

There at that exit was an automotive repair shop. And they were open. On Christmas Eve. Which, that year, was a Saturday.

What are the chances?

And, believe it or not, they had a tow truck. So the driver and I hopped in and returned to the scene of my crime, and brought wife, baby, and car back to the shop. Thawed out the radiator, replaced the hose, and refilled it with the right concentration of antifreeze.

They didn’t take credit cards, and they didn’t take out-of-state checks. We weren’t carrying that much cash.

They took the check.

And a couple of hours after fearing for our lives, we were back on the road to Grandma’s house for Christmas.

Does God watch out for us, even when we don’t deserve it?

You bet he does.

Part 5: Accountability

Photo by Derek Thomson on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: fatherhood, Matthew, New Testament, Sermon on the Mount, systematic theology, theology proper

On God as Our Father, Part 3: Provision

March 2, 2023 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Likeness

What else does is God for us, because he is our Father?

I suppose the most obvious thing a father does for his family is to provide what they need. Often the first thing a wife will say to commend her husband is that “he is a good provider.” That’s expected in cultures all around the world. The father will see to it that his family has a place to live, and food to eat, and clothes to wear. And that makes sense: since the mother is typically tasked with the care of the children, and since, at least in cultures where most paid work requires physical labor, the father is the physically stronger of the couple, it falls to the father to “bring home the bacon.”

Our heavenly Father isn’t bound by either of those constraints, but he still provides for us his children, and abundantly. Jesus has already noted that he gives rain to the just and to the unjust (Mt 5.45), but that’s just the beginning. I’ve written before on the fact that everything we really need—both physical and spiritual—is free, thanks to God’s provision. But Jesus takes it beyond common grace.

He delights to give to his children, to meet their needs, and even to give them extra. Jesus tells us to just ask the Father, and he will give us what we need: “pray to your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you” (Mt 6.6). Just earlier, he has said that if we make charitable contributions in secret, the Father will reward us (Mt 6.4). There are other references to the Father’s “reward” in this chapter (Mt 6.1, 18). And he knows what his children need even before they ask (Mt 6.8).

Then Jesus gives his disciples a pattern for daily prayer—what we’ve come to call “The Lord’s Prayer.” We call on our Father (Mt 6.9), and we ask him for “our daily bread” (Mt 6.11)—because even though our earthly father goes to work to bring home the bacon, his ability to do so—and our ability, once we’re working—comes from God, both in his giving of health and strength and in his providential direction.

Now Jesus uses an earthy illustration to set his point. Look at the lilies, he says; they don’t do anything to provide for themselves, yet the Father arrays them in clothing of unsurpassed beauty. Look at the birds; they do no agriculture whatsoever, but the Father sees that they always have food when they need it—seeds, berries, a worm or two. Even when nature is broken by sin, “red in tooth and claw,” as Tennyson put it, the creatures of the earth manage to survive and even thrive on the Father’s generous provision.

Jesus is using here a rhetorical device called an a fortiori argument, working from the weak to the strong. If the Father provides for birds and flowers, how much more will he provide for his actual children?

He makes the point again in the next chapter—

If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him! (Mt 7.11).

And it goes even further. If he will provide our temporal, physical needs, how much more the eternal, spiritual ones? He justifies us, declaring us to be perfect, as he is perfect (2Co 5.21); he sanctifies us, setting us aside as his special treasure (1P 2.9), and progressively conforming us to the character of his Son (2Co 3.18); and one day, no matter how far we are from the finish line of perfection, he will take us the rest of the way (1J 3.2), by his grace, because that’s what we need.

That’s what fathers do.

Part 4: Oversight | Part 5: Accountability

Photo by Derek Thomson on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: fatherhood, Matthew, New Testament, Sermon on the Mount, systematic theology, theology proper