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 February 2024

Servant Song 2, Part 1: The Servant Speaks

February 29, 2024 by Dan Olinger 2 Comments

Introduction | Song 1, Part 1 | Song 1, Part 2

The second Servant Song appears in Isaiah 49. Again, scholars disagree about its precise location; some would limit it to the first 6 verses, some to the first 7, while others take it all the way to verse 13. I’ll note that the Servant is addressed directly at the end of verse 7, and again in 8 and 9. Verses 10-13 appear to describe those that the Servant will deliver, “the prisoners” and “them that are in darkness” from verse 9. So I see the Song as extending through verse 13.

In this Song, for the first time, the Servant speaks. He describes his commission in verses 1-3, and he responds to it in verse 4. Then he relates how God responded to his words (Is 49.5-12). The Song ends with praise as the whole earth rejoices in what God has done through his Servant (Is 49.13).

In this post we’ll look at the Servant’s words. I will confess that as I was memorizing these verses, I was flabbergasted. We’ll get to the reason for that in a minute.

Before the Servant describes his call from God, he calls all the earth to hear his words. In this opening section, he’s not going to tell us why his call deserves the attention of the whole earth—that will come a few verses later, in God’s speech—but we already know from the First Song that the Servant’s mission will deliver the Gentiles as well as the people of the Covenant (Is 42.1, 4, 6), so this doesn’t surprise us. Since “the isles” (distant coastlands) will be affected (Is 42.4), he calls them now to hear what he has to say (Is 49.1).

And then he describes his divine call (Is 49.2-3).

This call comes while he is still in the womb, “the bowels of [his] mother” (Is 49.1). As a Christian, I’m inclined to see the Servant as the Messiah—though for the sake of careful study, I’ve avoided actively advocating for that in the previous posts. But of course it’s hard to avoid seeing here a reference to the Virgin Birth of Jesus, and the extensive material in Matthew and Luke that presents Jesus’ divine calling from before he was born—indeed, before he was even conceived. This calling is revealed to Joseph once he becomes aware that his fiancée is pregnant (Mt 1.18-23), before that, of course, to Mary (Lk 1.26-38), as well as to Zacharias (Lk 1.5-17, esp v 17), and to Elizabeth (Lk 1.39-45, esp v 43), the parents of John the Baptist.

And what, exactly, is the Servant’s call?

God has equipped him for special service; he is like a sharpened weapon, a sword or an arrow, to be sent forth and accomplish his mission effectively (Is 49.2). He is God’s Servant, and he will be successful in making God’s glory obvious (Is 49.3).

I note that here the Servant is called “Israel.” This seems to favor the standard Jewish interpretation, that Israel is the means by which God will bless the world and demonstrate his glory. Yet just 2 verses later, God will say that this Servant “will bring Jacob again to him” (Is 49.5). Readers of the Bible know that “Israel” is just another name for the biblical Jacob, which became the national name of Jacob’s descendants. Since the two names describe the same person / nation, how can the Servant, Israel, bring Israel back to God? It seems that even the context of verse 3 implies an individual, not national, deliverer.

Verse 4 is shocking. The Servant says,

Then I said, I have laboured in vain,
I have spent my strength for nought, and in vain:
Yet surely my judgment is with the Lord,
And my work with my God.

I’m flabbergasted. The Servant is expressing frustration, recognizing his own failure and depending on God to justify him and his work. This raises all kinds of questions, especially if the Servant is the Christ.

Let me put it bluntly: did Jesus have bad days? Did he confess thoughts like this to the Father in those long nights of solitary prayer? We know that Jesus did not exercise his divine omniscience during his earthly ministry (Mk 13.32), but relied on his Father to supply the knowledge that he needed (Jn 5.19, 30; 2.25). Did this dependency sometimes frustrate him?

Or is he simply saying that in his eventual death, he will apparently fail, as far as the world’s perspective is concerned? But he says that he said these words.

We are delving into matters that are far beyond us.

In response to this apparent cry of anguish, the Father responds. We’ll deal with that next time.

Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash

Song 2, Part 3 | Song 3 | Song 4, Part 1 | Song 4, Part 2 | Song 4, Part 3 | Song 4, Part 4 | Song 4, Part 5

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: Christology, Isaiah, Old Testament, systematic theology

Servant Song 1, Part 2: Confident Hope

February 26, 2024 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Introduction | Song 1, Part 1

I noted in the previous post that some analysts end the first Servant Song with verse 4. I agree with those who posit a second stanza, which extends through verse 9. My reason for that is simple; verse 6 continues the singular form with which the chapter began (though it switches from 3rd person to 2nd). You can tell that “you” in verse 6 is singular if you’ll check the KJV; that version uses the archaic forms “thou” and “thee,” which consistently are singular in form and thus translate singular forms in the underlying Hebrew.

Verse 7 continues addressing the singular object and speaks of his mission in ways that the later Servant Songs will as well. So I’d say this first Song has a second stanza, verses 5-9.

There’s a second question: who is the Servant? Traditionally Jewish scholars have identified Israel as the Servant, while Christians have seen him as the Christ. A few interpreters think he’s simply the prophet Isaiah. This early in our survey I’m not ready to give my position, since we have little data to work with in just the 4 verses of the first stanza. I will note that Isaiah seems to be an unlikely prospect, since the first stanza speaks of him establishing justice around the world (Is 42.4), and Isaiah himself clearly did not do that. This second stanza seems to rule out Israel, since the Servant is said to be given “for a covenant of the people” (Is 42.6), and it seems unlikely that Israel would be given to Israel. But for now we’ll withhold judgment and keep looking for evidence in the text.

This second stanza begins with a proclamation about God, the one speaking: He’s the Creator and maintainer of heaven and earth and all it contains (Is 42.5). The stanza later repeats this idea (Is 42.8), in what literary analysts would call an “inclusio”: this Creator God is greater than all other gods, and he calls himself YHWH. Most English translations render this personal name, I think unfortunately, as “the LORD” (note the small caps). So the Master of this Servant is infinitely great, yet one who seeks a relationship with his people and remains ever-present with them. Evidence of this greatness extends into the next verse (Is 42.9): God has kept all his promises to this point, and he makes further promises about the future, because he sees and knows it perfectly.

Between these two bookend statements God reveals something of his relationship with the Servant as well as the Servant’s mission. Yahweh has called the Servant and will be present with him to make him successful in the accomplishment of his mission (Is 42.6), which will involve not only the covenant people Israel, but the Gentiles as well.

And what is that mission? To bring light to the blind and freedom to the imprisoned (Is 42.7). We’re not given the details at this point: are these people literally or spiritually blind? Are they literally or spiritually in prison? Perhaps we’ll learn more in later Songs.

But what have we learned so far?

Someone, a “Servant,” is coming. He has a special relationship with the all-powerful and all-knowing God. He may appear less than impressive, but we must not underestimate him, for he is empowered by God and will certainly be successful in bringing justice to the whole earth.

This is a unique God, and a unique Servant. This is an earth-shaking change, and best of all, a change for the better. This is a message of hope to all who suffer injustice, who wonder if there is deliverance. The God who has done marvelous things for centuries will repair the brokenness of what we see, thereby putting in place a good and gracious future world.

We don’t know—yet, here in Song 1—when or how all this will come to pass. But we have our confidence boosted by the power and the record of success evidenced by the covenant-keeping and eternally consistent God.

Next time, a Second Song—and a longer one.

Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash

Song 2, Part 1 | Song 2, Part 2 | Song 2, Part 3 | Song 3 | Song 4, Part 1 | Song 4, Part 2 | Song 4, Part 3 | Song 4, Part 4 | Song 4, Part 5

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: Christology, Isaiah, Old Testament, systematic theology

Servant Song 1, Part 1: First Look

February 22, 2024 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Introduction

Isaiah’s first Servant Song appears at the beginning of chapter 42. There’s some disagreement among scholars as to where precisely it ends; in fact, the precise references of all the Servant Songs are somewhat fuzzy. For the first song, many would limit it to the first 4 verses, while others would take it through verse 9—in which case the song has a second stanza. I decided to memorize the longer passage, so we’ll take two posts for this song, one for each stanza.

This first stanza is in the voice of God, addressing Isaiah’s audience (note the plural “you” in Is 42.9) and referring to the Servant in the third person: “Behold my servant” (Is 42.1). God begins describing with affection, in relational terms:

  • God’s soul delights in him (Is 42.1).
  • God has put his “spirit” upon him (Is 42.1).

I find it interesting that God speaks of both his own soul and his own spirit. Now, since God is not a human, the question of trichotomy—is he body, soul and spirit, or just body and soul?—does not apply to him. I’d suggest, then, that his use of both terms together may suggest that he is “all in” in his relationship with the Servant.

Would it be reading the New Testament back into the Old to find a trinitarian implication here?—that the soul is that of the Father, and the spirit is the distinct person of the Holy Spirit? That would lead us to conclude that the Servant is the “missing” third person of the Trinity, the Son.

My background in biblical theology inclines me to be cautious about seeing too much later revelation here, centuries before the incarnation, so I’ll leave that question open.

The rest of the stanza speaks of the Servant’s task—his calling, if you will—and the manner in which he carries it out. Note the repeated theme of justice:

  • “He shall bring forth justice to the Gentiles” (Is 42.1);
  • “He shall bring forth justice unto truth” (Is 42.3);
  • He shall “set justice in the earth” (Is 42.4).

The Servant’s primary task, apparently, is to overturn the injustice of the world system and make it a place where justice is done. We’re not told yet how he will do this, but those of us who’ve read the rest of the story can see easily where this is going.

The stanza ends with several descriptors of the Servant’s manner. We find that manner surprising, for a couple of reasons. First, he’s presented as mild-mannered; and frankly, mild-mannered approaches don’t typically overturn injustice, especially given the commitment of world rulers to maintaining their own power structures. But this one

  • will “not cry, nor lift up, nor cause his voice to be heard in the street” (Is 42.2);
  • “A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench” (Is 42.3).

A second surprise comes when we read the third description of his manner:

  • “He shall not fail nor be discouraged” (Is 42.4).

This seems to come right out of the blue. Here is someone who has God’s spirit upon him, who is called and empowered to overturn unjust earthly power structures and establish justice all across the earth, reorganizing even Gentile states (Is 42.1), the “isles” (distant coastlands) over which “his law” shall reign (Is 42.4)—so why would we be concerned that he might fail or be discouraged? Where did that come from?

In this first stanza of this first Servant Song, then, we find that the Servant is empowered by God, and in a special relationship with him, and therefore able to do world-shaking things in the cause of justice. Yet, in some way, we’re supposed to be surprised by that. This is a theme we’ll see again in the Songs.

I can’t fail to mention that this stanza shows up in the New Testament, in reference to Christ’s earthly ministry, and specifically in connection to what scholars call the “messianic secret.” Jesus sometimes tells his followers, and the recipients of his miracles, not to tell anyone what he has done. Matthew tells us that he did that in order to fulfill the prophecy of this stanza (Mt 12.15-21); part of his mission, apparently, is to appear not as a conquering king, but as someone who seems not to have any likelihood to be who he really is.

Why? Well, we’re not told. But it occurs to me that God delights in those who come to him by faith, and it doesn’t take much faith to trust in a conquering king on a white stallion. But a Jewish carpenter? from Nazareth (Jn 1.46)? Now, that’s another story.

Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash

Song 1, Part 2 | Song 2, Part 1 | Song 2, Part 2 | Song 2, Part 3 | Song 3 | Song 4, Part 1 | Song 4, Part 2 | Song 4, Part 3 | Song 4, Part 4 | Song 4, Part 5

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: Christology, Isaiah, Old Testament, systematic theology

Servant Songs, Part 1: Introduction

February 19, 2024 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

For several weeks now I’ve been working on memorizing Isaiah’s “Servant Songs.” I’ve found them difficult to memorize, for a couple of reasons. First, I’m aging, and everything is getting more difficult to memorize. I’ve heard that the brain is more like a muscle than a bucket, and that the more you use it, the stronger it gets. I hope that’s true; if it is, then the difficulty I’m having would be even worse if I weren’t actively exercising my memory muscles.

The second reason this has been difficult is specific to the passages. They’re a set of four, by the same author, in the same prophetic book, and there’s a lot of parallel phrasing in there. (Compare, for example, Isaiah 42.6 and 49.8, and 42.7 and 49.9.) It’s taken some time to get the passages into my head so that my brain knows which specific phrasing goes with which context.

But there are benefits to all that recitation and repetition.

First, as with any memorization, you notice details you didn’t notice before—where the “wills” are as opposed to where the “shalls” are, for example, but often more significant things* such as parallel phrasings that give insight into the structure of the text and thus the mind of the author at the moment he was writing.

Further, the repetition gives you time to “think on these things.” The text makes a greater impression on your mind, and the process forces you to think more deeply about what the author is saying. You notice connections between verses (take a look, for example, at Isaiah 53, which is a chain of thoughts, one link connected to the next phrasally; I first noticed this phenomenon when I was memorizing Psalm 27). My ADHD mind is not good at meditating on things abstractly, but the process of memorization overcomes that disability quite nicely, since I have to think about the thoughts and their connections over a period of time.

A particular benefit of memorizing the Servant Songs is that, in a very real sense, they’re not written to me; they’re written to the Servant of Yahweh, God the Son, the Messiah. As a result, they give us insight into the mind of Christ that we don’t get anywhere else.

In Biblical Studies there’s a concept called “the messianic consciousness”: the idea that the man Jesus didn’t fully understand his divine identity from infancy, but that it developed in his mind as he matured. The Bible does teach that “Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man” (Lk 2.52). Exactly what that looked like is of course a mystery to us—how can the omniscient God increase in wisdom? how can God the Son increase in favor with God? But it says he did. And we presume that he didn’t speak fluent Hebrew when he was a week old or dissertate on the hypostatic union when he was three—though he did astonish the rabbis when he was twelve, and at that age he clearly knew that God was his Father in a way that Joseph wasn’t (Lk 2.46-49).

This concept has raised in my mind visual images of the boy Jesus listening to the Scripture in the synagogue. (His family almost certainly did not have Tanakh scrolls that he could read at home.) At some point along the way, when he heard the Servant Songs read, he realized, “That’s me! That’s talking about me!” Did this realization hit him suddenly, like the proverbial Mack truck, or did the light of understanding rise slowly in his mind, like dawn on the eastern horizon?

I don’t know. But at some point these songs became his. Did he memorize them? Did he pray them to his Father over those long nights alone on a hillside? Did he contemplate them during walks near Nazareth, among lilies and sparrows and brilliantly ornamented wildflowers? Did he come to find meaning in the idea that “this is my Father’s world” that goes well beyond anything that we can say of ourselves?

I’d like to take a few posts, maybe more than usual, to meditate on these songs as a vehicle to seeing Christ the Servant in a richer and rounder light.

* My apologies to our British cousins, who think the difference between “will” and “shall” is meaningful, and who make a practice of using the two words correctly. I can never remember the difference.

Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash

Song 1, Part 1 | Song 1, Part 2 | Song 2, Part 1 | Song 2, Part 2 | Song 2, Part 3 | Song 3 | Song 4, Part 1 | Song 4, Part 2 | Song 4, Part 3 | Song 4, Part 4 | Song 4, Part 5

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: Christology, Isaiah, Old Testament, systematic theology

On Valentine’s Day

February 12, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Since Valentine’s Day is this week, I’d like to think a little bit about love.

Love is fascinating—all the popular songs are about it.

But it’s a mystery.

For some time there’s been circulating on the internet a series of comments on love by children. I haven’t been able to find its source—everybody quotes it, but as far as I can tell, nobody credits it. Here are a few of my favorites:

  • “No one is sure why it happens, but I heard it has something to do with how you smell; that’s why perfume and deodorant is so popular.” Mae, age 9
  • ”I think you’re supposed to get shot with an arrow or something, but the rest of it isn’t supposed to be painful.” Manuel, age 8
  • “It isn’t always just how you look. Look at me, I’m handsome as anything and I haven’t got anybody to marry me yet.” Brian, age 7
  • “Don’t do things like have smelly, green sneakers. You might get attention, but attention ain’t the same thing as love.” Alonzo, age 9
  • “Be a good kisser. It might make your wife forget that you never take out the trash.” Dave, age 8
  • “Don’t forget your wife’s name. That will mess up the love.” Erin, age 8
  • “Love will find you. Even if you hide from it. I have been trying to hide from it since I was five, but the girls keep finding me.” Dave, age 8

And it’s important.

It’s fundamental to our very nature; we’re made in the image of God (Ge 1.26-27), who, though one in essence, is—and thus has always been—in three persons, in perfect relationship.

And when one of those persons became man, he issued an insider’s commentary on God’s law: it’s all about loving God and loving your neighbor (Mk 12.30-31).

So life is as simple as that:

  • Love God: put Him first
  • Love others: put them first

It’s as simple as closing the door quietly and leaving the hall light out if someone is asleep. As simple as stopping to help someone who’s in difficulty. As simple as thinking about what you can do.

Years ago I was in the Las Vegas airport headed home, and a woman came up to me and asked me, in broken English, if I had a quarter for the pay phone. She was unexpectedly stranded and needed to call a family member. I fished a quarter out of my pocket and gave it to her and walked on toward my gate, feeling satisfied with having helped somebody out.

Then I thought, You could have done better. You could have let her use your phone, so she could make additional calls if she needed to. You could have asked if she was hungry, and bought her a meal if she needed one. You could have asked her where she was from and recommended a church in her town. You could have …

Woulda, coulda, shoulda.

Didn’t.

If I love my neighbor, I want to do him, or her, some eternal good.

Of course, Valentine’s Day is especially focused on local love, on committed love, love more deep and abiding than general love of neighbor. Our culture is filled with stereotypes about that.

Candy. Flowers. Jewelry. A candlelight dinner.

But as long-term couples know, lasting love is as much, if not more, about smaller, less affected things.

Putting your dirty clothes in the hamper. Putting the toilet seat down. Cleaning up after yourself. Keeping your promises.

Listening.

And it’s all based in God’s love for us: we love Him, because He first loved us (1Jn 4.19). If you’re going to love as you should, you need God’s example and His power. You find that, and develop it, in the means of grace: the Word, prayer, and fellowship.

As you walk with God, you’ll know, experience, and live out love.

First things first.

Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash

Filed Under: Culture Tagged With: holidays, Valentine's Day

On Sources for the Bible, Part 2: Specifics

February 7, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Summary

In the previous post I observed that the biblical writers often used other works as they composed their writings—and that they didn’t confine themselves to other biblical works.

Here are the specifics.

I like to organize these references into 2 categories:

  • Consultation, by which I mean that the author says, “This is also recorded in such-and-such a document.”
  • Allusion or quotation, where the author quotes, loosely or directly, from another source, whether he specifies it or not.

First the consultations.

Jewish Sources

  • Book of Genealogies (Gen 5.1)
  • Book of Jasher (Josh 10.13; 2Sam 1.18)
  • Book of Nathan the Prophet (1Ch 29.29; 2Ch 9.29)
  • Prophecy of Ahijah the Shilonite (2Ch 9.29)
  • Visions of Iddo the Seer (2Ch 9.29; 12.15; 13.22)
  • Book of Shemaiah the Prophet (2Ch 12.15)
  • Book of the Acts of Solomon (1K 11.41)
  • Book of Gad the Seer (1Ch 29.29)
  • Sayings of the Seers (2Ch 33.19)

Note that two passages, 1Ch 29.29 and 2Ch 9.29, are particularly rich in these consultations.

I also note that these sources cannot be divinely inspired, since they have not been preserved, as God promised that his Word would be.

A Persian Source

  • The author of Esther (perhaps Mordecai?) consulted “The book of the chronicles of the kings of Media and Persia” (Es 10.2)—perhaps in the same warehouse where the unnamed servant grabbed a clay tablet at random to read to Xerxes so he could sleep (Es 6.1).

And now the allusions and quotations. Where possible I’ve included links to the sources on the internet so you can check ‘em for yourself.

Jewish Sources

  • Book of the Wars of the Lord (Num 21.14; cf Ex 17.14)
  • Jannes and Jambres (2Tim 3.8)—text not available online
  • Martyrdom of Isaiah 1.9-10, 5.11-12 (Heb 11.37)
  • Assumption of Moses (lost fragment) (Jude 9)
  • 1 Enoch 1.9 (Jude 14-15)
  • 1 Enoch 21.10 (?) (2Pt 2.4)

Pagan Sources

  • Aeschylus, Agamemnon l. 1915 / 1624 (Acts 9.5)
    • This is included in Jesus’ words to Paul from heaven. Jesus’ sentence is clearly the same as the line from “Agamemnon,” but we can’t be certain that Jesus is quoting that poem. It’s possible that Aeschylus’s line became common in the ancient culture—similar to, say, “Early to bed and early to rise”—and Jesus is simply referring to the popular expression.
  • Epimenides, Cretica (Acts 17.28a; Titus 1.12-13)
  • Aratus, Phaenomena l. 5 (Acts 17.28b)
  • Menander, Thais 218 (1Cor 15.33)

So What?

What does all this mean?

  • The Spirit-driven biblical writers used sources, including pagan sources, with no apparent discomfort.
  • They did so using the standard practices of their day; for example, Paul uses a couple of lines about Zeus and applies them to the Lord. The hearers would be expected to understand what he was doing, and there was no intent to deceive.

Here’s what it doesn’t mean. It doesn’t mean that the source is inspired. We do not “live, and move, and have our being” in Zeus.

One closing note.

Jude cites 1 Enoch in his epistle. Now, we know that the biblical Enoch is not the author of everything in 1 Enoch—but there’s no reason that the traditions on which 1 Enoch is based couldn’t have included some authentic statements of the ancient saint. If Jude had simply cited 1 Enoch without any comment, it wouldn’t matter whether or not what he quoted was actually spoken by Enoch. But he puts it this way:

And Enoch also, the seventh from Adam, prophesied of these, saying … (Jude 14).

In my opinion, Jude is stating that the historical Enoch, seven generations from Adam (and long before “1 Enoch” was written), said these words. And since Jude is inspired, I believe that the verse he quotes from 1 Enoch is in fact an authentic saying of the ancient prophet.

Have fun with all this.

Photo by madeleine ragsdale on Unsplash

Filed Under: Uncategorized

On Sources for the Bible, Part 1: Summary

February 5, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Where did the Bible come from?

The answer to that question depends on what you mean.

Most simply, and most importantly, the Bible comes from God. Paul tells Timothy that the words of the Scripture (and in this context, he pretty clearly means the Hebrew Scripture, or what we Christians call the Old Testament) were breathed out by God (2Ti 3.16), and Peter says that the human authors were “moved” by the Holy Spirit (2P 1.21). That word “moved” is used in Acts of the storm (Ac 27.15, 17) that nearly blew Paul’s ship all the way to Africa (Ac 27.17). Since the Greek word for “wind” is the same as the word for “spirit,” it’s pretty clear that Peter is engaged in wordplay.

But the Bible also came from human authors, people like us. The fact that they were blown along by the Holy Wind doesn’t mean that they had no control over what they were writing. When the prophet Jeremiah accuses the Lord of deceiving him (Je 20.7), he’s clearly expressing his own opinion, not God’s. And when Paul writes that he baptized only two people in Corinth (1Co 1.14), you can see his thought process as he corrects himself in the succeeding verses: “Oh, yeah, I baptized that one family—and, uh, I don’t remember whether I baptized anybody else” (1Co 1.16). (That’s clearly my informal paraphrase.) Paul’s words clearly indicate that he isn’t just quoting the Holy Spirit, who most certainly does remember whether Paul baptized anybody else.

In the famous “needle’s eye” passage, Matthew (Mt 19.24) and Mark (Mk 10.25) use the common Greek word for “needle,” the kind of needle any first-century Jew could find in his house. But many manuscripts have Luke (Lk 18.25) using a different word for “needle,” a technical term for a surgical needle. Luke, the doctor, uses the first Greek word that comes to mind for “needle”; he speaks from his own experience.*

So the authors, though completely under the direction of the Spirit, played a role in the composition of the biblical text.

Let’s take this a step further. The authors themselves used other sources as they composed their works. I’m not speaking here of the common critical assumption that the Genesis creation story came from the Enuma Elish, or that the flood story came from the Epic of Gilgamesh. I think it’s much more likely that those pagan myths came from the cultural memory of an actual ancient creation and an actual ancient global flood, the one Moses describes in Genesis.

Rather, I’m saying that the authors borrowed freely from other ancient works, often saying so at the time—in effect, inserting a footnote.

Now, we all know that the New Testament often quotes from the Old. The simplest way to see this clearly and quickly is to flip through the Christian Standard Version (available online for free at biblegateway.com). The editors of that version have opted to set all NT quotations of the OT in bold-faced type, making them visually jump right off the page. And if you start in Matthew, who quotes the OT frequently, you’ll see a lot of bold-faced type.

But the biblical writers don’t limit themselves to quoting just other writers of Scripture. They quote from all over the place—including Persian historical archives and classical Greek poets waxing eloquent about Zeus. It’s possible, though not certain, that Jesus himself, resurrected, glorified, and at the right hand of the Father, quotes a classical Greek poet.

And these writers do so without seeming to sense any need to explain themselves or to offer some sort of disclaimer.

Next time we’ll look at what’s there in the biblical text.

* A note for those of you thinking as you read: which Greek word did Jesus actually use? And which Gospel author reported that word inaccurately? Freak out thou not, my friend; Jesus almost certainly was speaking Aramaic, and he used the common word for “needle” in that language. Matthew, Mark, and Luke were translating Jesus’ words into Greek as they wrote, and so each writer would choose the first Greek word for “needle” that popped into his head, based on his experience.

Photo by madeleine ragsdale on Unsplash

Part 2: Specifics

Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: bibliology, intertextuality, systematic theology

On Being an Ambassador, Part 4: Seeing the Long View

February 1, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Cultural Diversity | Part 2: Walking the Tightrope | Part 3: Drawing the Line

We are ambassadors for a reason. God is working through history toward a goal that is worth all the difficult choices and cultural confrontations. We do well to remind ourselves of it.

In the beginning, God created us in his image and gave us dominion over a created world that was “very good” (Gen 1.31). Soon that creation was marred, however, distorted by our sin. And immediately God set out to restore what we had broken, to reunite what was estranged (Ge 3.15).

He prepares an earthly line that will eventuate in a man who is God himself. The story takes a while to tell; there is Seth, then Noah, then Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; David, and Solomon, and then a builder in Nazareth named Joseph. He adopts his fiancee’s baby, thereby entitling the child to the throne of his father David. This child, in his short life, will demonstrate himself to be prophet, priest, and king, and will offer the perfect sacrifice—himself—to atone for the sins of all who would believe in him. And with that faith comes the transfer of his righteousness, his legal and moral perfection, to the believer.

And then reunification with the long-estranged God.

And God’s vision continues. It’s not enough that three Jewish men—Jesus’ “best friends”—believe, or that the Twelve or the crowds do. The vision is much bigger than that. God is gathering to himself a people, innumerable and global, to praise his name. The message of this gathering will go to the Jew first, but God’s Spirit will create a new institution, the church, to unite all who will come, to erase national and ethnic boundaries, to manifest the glory of disparate people fellowshipping face to face, worshiping together in the same room, rooms large and small all around the globe.

And those little gatherings are a foretaste of a much larger gathering, myriads of myriads, people from every kingdom, tribe, tongue, and nation, united in their praise, with one voice, to the one who loved them and who bought them with his very blood.

I once attended a worship service in Arad, Israel, one of the oldest cities in the world. In a house on a hill gathered believers from all around the world. The sermon was in Hebrew, but with the aid of live translators and headsets, we heard in our mother tongues—I in English, others in French, Spanish, Arabic, Swahili. A foretaste.

It was always clear in the Hebrew Scripture that the plan was not limited to the Jews. God told Abraham, “In you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Ge 12.3). Amos preached that Edom and “all the heathen … are called by [God’s] name” (Am 9.11-12). Isaiah foresaw all the nations coming to worship in Jerusalem (Is 2.1-4; 27.12-13). Jesus said,

Many shall come from the east and west, and shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven (Mt 8.11).

But that all these peoples would be united in one body, on equal footing, not because they had become Jews, but because they believed in the God of all the earth—that was new revelation, given through Paul (Ep 3.6).

This plan could only result in infinite glory being given to the Planner, whose wisdom and power and grace astonishes even the angels in heaven (Ep 3.10), when they see people who should be mortal enemies united in praise to the One who has brought them together, not just with one another, but with him.

Cultural boundaries, indeed.

This is the God, and the plan, that we represent. What a trust we have been given; God has entrusted his reputation and plan to servants that he knows are unfaithful and imperfect. But he will empower us, enliven us, direct us, and the plan will be accomplished.

To represent such a God is an inestimable privilege.

May he give us wisdom and strength to represent him well.

Photo by Carlos Magno on Unsplash

Filed Under: Culture, Theology Tagged With: missions