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

 

Retired Bible Professor,

Bob Jones University

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On Justice, Part 1: We All Want It 

June 30, 2025 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

“Joseph Sledge’s timing could not have been worse. While serving a four-year sentence for stealing t-shirts in 1976, the 36-year-old man from Georgia escaped from a prison work farm in eastern North Carolina. That same day, Josephine Davis and her daughter Ailene were brutally murdered in their farmhouse in nearby Bladen County. Sledge immediately became the prime suspect and was charged with their murders upon his re-capture” (Matt Ford, “Guilty, Then Proven Innocent,” The Atlantic, 2/9/2015). 

Two inmates where Sledge was being held after his capture told police that Sledge had told them that he had killed a couple of white women. 

Open and shut case, right? 

No. 

Bloody fingerprints found at the scene were not Sledge’s. Several hairs could not identify anyone. The bloody shoeprints didn’t match Sledge’s shoes. 

And those inmates? 

We’ll get back to them. 

Two years later Sledge was convicted of double murder and sent to prison. He insisted that he was not guilty. After 25 years his request for DNA testing was granted. 

For the next nine years, they couldn’t find the hairs. 

Finally, in 2012 they found them. 

The DNA testing excluded Sledge as a suspect. 

Six months later one of the two informants—the only one still living—testified that he had lied by repeating information he’d heard from police and prison staff, in return for a $3000 reward and the dropping of some charges he was facing. 

More than 18 months later, Sledge was declared innocent and freed. He was 70 years old, and he had spent more than half of his life in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. 

Five years later, he died. 

There are more details, if you have the stomach for them. 

The injustices in this story are numerous and pervasive. It’s common for us to assume motives, but I try to resist doing that, because only God knows the heart. But even if we assume everyone involved had the best of intentions—except, of course, those informants—there’s still plenty to criticize. The basis for the original conviction was of course weak. I’ve written of my time on a jury, where half the members would not vote to convict—even though they thought the defendant was guilty—because the entire case was based on the statements of a single witness. A truism in the law is that it’s better to let a guilty person go free than to convict an innocent one. 

Further, the archiving of the physical evidence was at best inept. They couldn’t find the hairs for nine years?! That’s just really hard to believe. 

And another 18 months to release the man after it was indisputable that he was innocent. 

Even at their best—and this is not one of those times—our justice systems are imperfect and frustrating and, well, unjust. 

And we hate that, or at least we should. 

As creatures from God’s hand and in his image, we want justice to be done. We want evils to be corrected, miscreants to be fairly punished. And we especially want the really evil people—the Hitlers and the Pol Pots and the Idi Amins and the Ted Bundys and the Wayne Gacys and the Jeffrey Epsteins of this world—to face what they’ve got coming. We want their evil to end. 

We want peace. We want safety. We want justice. 

And if there’s just one person who’s behind all this evil, who’s responsible for all of it, and intentionally so— 

We want to see him crushed, violently and painfully and permanently. 

Well. 

The Bible talks about that, and in fact its larger story moves to its climax by recounting the final justice given to the Evil One. 

We’ll talk about that next time. 

Photo by Tingey Injury Law Firm on Unsplash

Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: angelology, systematic theology

A Book Donation and a Kind Providence

June 26, 2025 by Dan Olinger 2 Comments

I missed a couple of blog postings last week. During that time I had an experience that refreshed my thinking about providence. Today’s the day I share it. 

One of my major concerns over the last few years has been what to do with my physical library. I knew that when I retired I’d lose my comfortable shelf space in my office, and there’s no way I can move all those books into my house. Further, I hardly use them anymore and haven’t for years; virtually all my study and other reading is electronic, for a couple of reasons. First, almost all of what I need access to is now available in electronic form, and my Logos library and Kindle library are more than sufficient for my needs, even before retirement. Second, in electronic form I can make the type bigger, whereas many of my physical books I now struggle to read. 

For a few years I’ve been offering my books to my students; come on by my office, I say, and take whatever you want. But hardly anybody’s interested; their reading is electronic too, and like me they don’t want to lug heavy boxes of books around every time they move. 

So what to do? 

I sent a bunch of them to West Africa Baptist College in Wa, Ghana, where I’ve taught several classes. I also knew that Central Africa Baptist University in Kitwe, Zambia, was compiling a very good theological library, and I was planning to send everything else over there, but I couldn’t get it all together before the shipping deadline. 

Then I heard from a friend who works for Operation Renewed Hope that a church in eastern Tennessee was flooded during Hurricane Helene, and both the pastor and his assistant had lost their entire libraries. 

Well, maybe they could use mine. 

So when school ended I packed my books into 23 heavy boxes—I estimated close to half a ton—and, on a day convenient to both the church and me, loaded them into my van. (Boy, do I love Stow-‘N-Go seats!) Earlier I had mentioned to a retired pastor in my church what I was planning, and he offered another 8 boxes, maybe 400 pounds, of really good books as well. 

The convenient day was Thursday, June 19. (Yep, Juneteenth. A good day for giving.) The evening of the 18th I saw a news report that a rockslide and flooding had closed I-40 on the NC/TN state line. That was by far the most efficient route. After a couple of text exchanges, I opted for I-26 north (officially west) to I-81 and then south into eastern Tennessee. That would add an hour to the trip each way, but I considered that a minor issue. 

The wife and I set out at 7.30 Thursday morning, with the sun shining, a full gas tank, and almost a ton of books. North to Asheville and its morning rush hour, then north through the beautiful mountains and valleys of northwestern North Carolina, all the way to Johnson City, Tennessee (which isn’t all that far from Olinger, Virginia, and the Olinger Baptist Church, but that’s another story). 

Heading southwest on I-81, we ran into the hardest rainstorm I’ve ever driven in. It was astonishing. Traffic slowed to under 40 mph, and with everybody’s wipers and flashers in action our little line of vehicles managed to come out on the other side no worse for the wear. 

Then south a few miles on winding country roads to the church. It sits literally just across the street from the Pigeon River, which dominates that part of the state and is large at this location. I could just imagine what it looked like during the hurricane, surging out of its banks and overwhelming everything in its path. 

The assistant pastor was waiting for me. When he told me his name, it startled me; he looked just like someone else I know by that name. I stared stupidly at him for a few seconds, then asked, “Are you related to [person with this name, and meeting this description]?” He laughed. “That’s my Dad.” Well, that means his Mom used to work with me at BJU Press, and he’s the nephew of two personal friends, including a member of my deacon care group at church. I had no idea that I had any connection with anyone at this church. 

So a portion of my library is going to a family I treasure. 

Cool. 

Helene brought a lot of suffering to a lot of good people. There’s no minimizing or dismissing the depth of that suffering. 

But all along the way God cares for his people and places little lights that remind us that he’s there. 

Photo credit: Cooperative Institute for Research in the Atmosphere at Colorado State University and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration

Filed Under: Personal, Theology Tagged With: providence

On Turning a Page, Part 6: How?

June 23, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Obedience | Part 2: Plan | Part 3: Presence | Part 4: Trust | Part 5: Obey 

Okay, then. When facing a new path, we recognize the goodness of God’s will, we trust his will and direction for us, and we obey. 

But how? We already know that there’s something within us that discourages us from obeying—even compels us to disobey. And even when that spirit isn’t at the controls, we find ourselves disobeying despite our best intentions. 

So does God just sing us a chorus of “Trust and Obey” and wave happily from the dock as we sail off into waters we don’t have the ability to navigate? 

Of course not. 

God knows Joshua and the Israelites even better than they know themselves. He doesn’t stop talking to Joshua before he gives him what he needs. He continues his instruction to this new leader to its important conclusion: the enablement. 

This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it. For then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have good success (Jos 1.8).

In order to obey, God says, you’re going to need to focus. Note that he doesn’t say that the word mustn’t depart from your “mind” or your “ears”; he saying more than just “think about it, a lot.” What’s happening if Joshua doesn’t let God’s word depart from his “mouth”? Well, he talking about it—perhaps to himself, but almost certainly to the nation as well; he’s continually teaching them what God has instructed. 

It’s a truism among teachers that you don’t really understand anything until you’ve taught it—and I would add, until you’ve taught it multiple times. In my experience, the first time I taught something was pretty much always disappointing. And I suspect my students knew that. (The memory of that initial lesson on verbal aspect in Greek gives me the shudders.) But if you teach it repeatedly, your understanding and overall comprehension improve with each iteration—and, I’ve noticed, your belief in the truth of what you’re teaching firms up as well. 

There’s more. God tells Joshua to “meditate” on these things. This word comes from a root referring to animal sounds of various kinds: the cooing of a dove, perhaps (Is 38.14), or the growling of a lion (Is 31.4). Applied to humans, it speaks of musing, meditating, perhaps talking to yourself. Roll it over in your head, God says. Consider it from every angle. Make it part of who you are and how you think. Today we would say, “Memorize it, and review it regularly.” 

Now, when God refers to “this book of the Law,” to what specifically is he referring? The only Scripture Joshua has, obviously, is the first five books, the Law of Moses. We have a significant advantage over him and over the people he led into Canaan: we have the Law, and the Prophets, and the Writings—and we have the New Testament, which brings it all together and wraps it up with a pretty red bow—not unlike Rahab’s scarlet cord (Jos 2.18). 

There is in logic a type of argument known as a fortiori: arguing that if the lesser is convincing, then the greater is all the more so. Let me suggest one here: in Warren Wiersbe’s words, “If Joshua was able to conquer Canaan having only the first five books of the Bible, how much more ought we to overcome now that we have a complete Bible!” 

But owning a Bible and keeping it closed—or consulting it shallowly—will not empower this kind of obedience. The Bible is an exercise machine, and such machines require weights if they’re going to build muscle. 

May all of us give ourselves to the Word, reading it, meditating on it, consulting reliable resources about it, memorizing it, turning it over in our heads until it becomes the way we think. 

That’s a lifelong effort. 

And it’s worth it. 

Photo by Nathan McDine on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Personal Tagged With: Bible, Joshua, Old Testament, retirement, transition

On Turning a Page, Part 5: Obey

June 12, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Obedience | Part 2: Plan | Part 3: Presence | Part 4: Trust

God continues to speak to Joshua, instructing him on how to handle what’s coming.

… being careful to do according to all the law that Moses my servant commanded you. Do not turn from it to the right hand or to the left, that you may have good success wherever you go (Jos 1.7b).

 In the New American Commentary, David M. Howard notes,

“It is striking that God’s instructions here to Joshua are not about military matters, given that Joshua and the Israelites faced many battles ahead. However, the keys to his success were spiritual, directly related to the degree of his obedience to God. The keys to Joshua’s success were the same as those for a king: being rooted in God’s word rather than depending upon military might.”

Now, Israel’s military experience was relatively sparse; after the current Israelites’ parents had fought the Amalekites shortly after the Exodus (Ex 17.8ff), Israel had little to no combat experience, so far as we know, until the new generation began its journey north on the east side of the Jordan, eventually defeating the Amorites and Bashon (Nu 21) and then, apparently, the Midianites (Nu 25.16-18). So Howard’s observation is noteworthy; even the aging Joshua’s experience in strategic warfare was apparently limited.

But it was not God’s priority. The Lord could advise him militarily along the way, and he would do so routinely. The first priority, however, was obedience, and that priority continued throughout the military campaign; obedience is a major theme throughout the book. As Joshua told the eastern tribes of Reuben, Gad, and half of Manasseh after the campaign, they had fully obeyed all that Moses laid down initially and all that Joshua later commanded, in keeping their promise to participate fully in the western campaign (Jos 22.1-3). And the author of Joshua observes at the end that Israel served God all the days of Joshua’s life (Jos 24.31).

Now, we know that some Israelites worshiped wrongly at times, most obviously at the golden calf incident (Ex 32) and concerning Baal-Peor (Nu 25). God had predicted that, and a lot more, to Moses (Dt 31.16ff). But God’s assessment of Joshua’s ministry seems to be that in the main, Israel followed Yahweh and not the Canaanite gods.

Obedience matters.

When just one man in Israel disobeyed, the conquest went badly awry. Because of Achan’s sin, Israel was defeated at Ai, and 36 innocent soldiers died, their families thereby deprived of their husbands and fathers (Jos 7.5).

God’s plan, then, was for Israel to do the hard work of taking the land. He would intervene spectacularly on their behalf by opening the Jordan for crossing, as we’ve noted earlier, by collapsing the walls of Jericho (Jos 6), and by lengthening the daylight to give time for human effort to win the battle (Jos 10), but He begins with their obedience. 

What about us? We don’t have a land to conquer, but we do have other commands to obey. And we also have advantages that Israel didn’t have: 

  • Christ has obeyed the Law perfectly for us; we are already credited with obedience in Him (2Co 5.21). 
  • The Spirit has written God’s Law on our hearts; with His help, we are inclined to obey (He 10.15-17).  “Like Joshua, Christians do not succeed spiritually because they obey God’s Law. Instead, God through Christ enables them to have victory over sin” (Richard S. Hess, Tyndale OT Commentary). 

With these extraordinary privileges and powers, let us demonstrate our trust in God’s plan for us by obeying him every day, morning and evening, in good times and bad.

We can do that, with God’s enablement.

Next time, some thoughts on that enablement.

Photo by Nathan McDine on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Personal Tagged With: Joshua, Old Testament, retirement, transition

On Turning a Page, Part 4: Trust

June 9, 2025 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Part 1: Obedience | Part 2: Plan | Part 3: Presence 

God makes, and keeps, promises for his people. How do we respond to that? In his opening words to Joshua, God has some imperatives—commands—to follow up his indicatives—his statements of truth, his promises. 

6 Be strong and courageous, for you shall cause this people to inherit the land that I swore to their fathers to give them. 7 Only be strong and very courageous …  

Is this just “suck it up, buttercup”? “Keep calm, and carry on”? “Keep a stiff upper lip”? 

No, it’s not. This is verse 6—which means it’s been preceded by the 5 other verses we’ve just surveyed. How can Joshua “be strong and courageous”? Courage results from the truth of God’s promises, and, importantly, our mindful acceptance of them as true. God told Joshua he would be with him and bring victory in his battles; and if Joshua believes him, putting on armor and leading his troops into battle is a natural consequence. He can approach the otherwise daunting task not with fear or anxiety—“I sure hope this works!”—but with confident anticipation—“This is gonna be great!” 

And so can we. Most of us are not strapping on battle armor—though my military chaplain friends could tell you stories—but we too can anticipate victory because we believe God’s promises to us. As commentator James E. Smith notes, “Fear and anxiety are tantamount to unbelief.”  

Note the precision of God’s words here. Joshua’s army will not “take,” “seize,” or “occupy” the Land; they will “inherit” it. The Land is their right because God, who owns all the earth (Ps 24.1), has designated it to them in promises to Abraham (Gn 13.14-17), Isaac (Gn 26.3-5), and Jacob (Gn 35.12). They already own it, and its current residents are occupiers, not owners. They are squatting on Israel’s land, in direct opposition to the Real Owner’s wishes and express orders. 

Sometimes, during a pep talk before a basketball game, the home team’s coach will shout, “These people are not going to come into our house and defeat us!” It’s no fun to lose—but it’s especially irking when you lose at home. We have status on our home court that we do not have on somebody else’s. 

Joshua has an obligation to restore visibly God’s sovereignty on Israel’s Promised Land. Similarly, we have an inheritance that is ours by right and which we shall certainly receive: 

“3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 4 to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, 5 who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time” (1P 1.3-5).  

Recall that “hope” in the Bible is not wishful thinking but confident anticipation of a certain future outcome. Christ’s resurrection has guaranteed for us a rightful inheritance that will not die, that will not be damaged, that will not expire. And God is reserving it securely for us in an impenetrable vault called heaven and guarding it by his own inexhaustible power. 

Uncertainty about this is simply impossible. 

What has He promised us?  

  • He has begun a good work in us, which He will certainly finish (Php 1.6).  
  • He has promised us that His body will be brought to maturity in Christ (Ep 4.11-16). He will shepherd us corporately along the way.  
  • He has promised us rest (Heb 4.1-3): we will certainly arrive, glorified, in His presence.  

Believe it. 

Next time: next step. 

Photo by Nathan McDine on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Personal Tagged With: Bible, Joshua, Old Testament, retirement, transition

On Turning a Page, Part 3: God Remains with His People

June 5, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Obedience | Part 2: Plan 

God has assured Joshua that he has promised Israel the Land and that his plans will be accomplished. But there is in all of us this thread of fear, of doubt. “There’s a plan, but …” 

Mike Tyson, former world heavyweight boxing champion, famously said, “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.” 

Yes, God has a plan, and he wants the best for us. But is he now just standing on the dock, smiling at and waving to Joshua as Israel sails off into unknown seas? 

I speak as a fool. 

The Lord has more to say before he sends Joshua and his men into combat: 

No man shall be able to stand before you all the days of your life. Just as I was with Moses, so I will be with you. I will not leave you or forsake you (Jos 1.5). 

God is not Pollyanna; there will be hard times. There will be those who “stand before” the people of Israel. And Joshua knows as well as anyone what they will be like; he surveyed the Land with eleven other men and saw, as they did, that 

the people be strong that dwell in the land, and the cities are walled, and very great: and moreover we saw the children of Anak there. 29 The Amalekites dwell in the land of the south: and the Hittites, and the Jebusites, and the Amorites, dwell in the mountains: and the Canaanites dwell by the sea, and by the coast of Jordan (Nu 13.28-29). 

These words come, of course, from the 10-spy majority, who counseled not even trying. But Joshua (and Caleb) had disagreed, because they believed God’s promises. And now God gives this believer added incentives to obey. 

First, they’re going to win. 

Nobody will be able to defeat them militarily. 

And second—and this is key—God will be with them. He’ll be right there. 

Now, I find that interesting. God obviously doesn’t need to “be right there” in order to see and know what’s going on. He doesn’t need to “be right there” to act on Israel’s behalf. He can do all his holy will from his holy hill, from the high and holy place (Is 57.15) where he dwells. Distance is no obstacle to him. 

But the transcendent God is also immanent—“with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit” (Is 57.15 again)—because he can be, and because he wants to be. He loves us, and he’s not inclined to engage in bicoastal relationships. If I may say this reverently, he wants to be close; he wants to snuggle. 

I think there’s another reason that God makes this promise to his people at this transition point: he knows that they are bolstered, strengthened, by the assurance that he is with them. 

Have you ever seen a little child’s face light up when he sees his parents in the audience at the elementary school program? He smiles, and he may even wave. All the decorum flees; he’s just delighted that Mom and Dad are there. 

We don’t stay children, but we all have that spirit within us. We feel better when our loved ones make their presence known. And we are similarly bolstered by knowing that God brings his omnipotence to our struggles. 

God’s words to Joshua don’t stop there; he notes further that he has proved himself faithful in the past (“as I was with Moses”). We’re also bolstered by having experienced this sort of thing before. As Paul notes (my paraphrase), “Trials bring endurance, and endurance brings experience [of success], and experience brings confidence [in future trials]” (Ro 5.3-4). 

He will not “leave” us. The Hebrew word speaks of loosening your grip and letting something fall—like what I do when I fall asleep on the couch while holding the remote. 

God doesn’t do that, and he won’t. He’s awake, and he’s present, though he doesn’t really need to be in order to be effective. 

We’re gonna be okay. 

So what does he ask of us? 

Next time. 

Photo by Nathan McDine on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Personal Tagged With: Joshua, Old Testament, retirement, transition

On Turning a Page, Part 2: There’s a Plan

June 2, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Obedience 

God has issued a command to Joshua—one that sounds dangerous. You don’t just wade into a flooding river with all your stuff, and hope for the best. But Joshua, who believed God’s promise to give his people the Land when 10 of the other 11 spies didn’t, believes him now, and he will obey. And, undoubtedly to everyone’s astonishment, the river will stop for them and, metaphorically speaking, motion them to cross. 

But they don’t know that yet. God continues his speech to Joshua by telling him what lies ahead. 

3 Every place that the sole of your foot will tread upon I have given to you, just as I promised to Moses. 4 From the wilderness and this Lebanon as far as the great river, the river Euphrates, all the land of the Hittites to the Great Sea toward the going down of the sun shall be your territory.  

Now, they do know this. God is simply repeating a past promise (Dt 11.24), the very one that Joshua (and Caleb) believed when the other spies didn’t. 

And the people also know—or should know—that God keeps his promises. Back when he had appeared to Moses in the burning bush, he had introduced himself as “the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.” Why this description, and not another, such as “the Creator of heaven and earth,” or “the infinite, eternal, and unchanging God,” or “the God of wonders”? 

I think the reason for his choice of words to Moses is clear. God had made promises to those patriarchs, promises that included a numerous people (already fulfilled in Egypt), a blessing on all peoples through a “seed” (a promise not then fulfilled), and most specifically in view here, a promise of the Land on which Abraham’s sandal had walked. 

As Moses stands at the burning bush, that promise has not been fulfilled—but it’s next in line. God is effectively saying, “My people, Abraham’s descendants, are out of the Land, enslaved in Egypt. This must not stand. Go down there, and I will do what it takes for you to lead them Home.” 

That’s promise number 2. And, as we all know from reading the rest of Scripture, promise number 3, the universal blessing through Abraham’s “seed,” will be fulfilled when David’s Greater Son, the incarnate God, pays the price for our sins at the cross and opens the gates of salvation to all who will come. 

God remembers his promises—for centuries—and he keeps them without fail. 

Decades after the burning bush God repeated that promise to Moses, with specifics: 

24 Every place whereon the soles of your feet shall tread shall be yours: from the wilderness and Lebanon, from the river, the river Euphrates, even unto the uttermost sea shall your coast be (Dt 11.24). 

And now God, remembering those specifics, repeats them to Joshua as this newly appointed leader gazes east across the Jordan. 

So God assures Joshua that the plan is in place, and the Land will belong to Jacob’s people. In modern parlance, it’s in the bag. 

So what of our transitions? We typically don’t have circumstantial specifics as Joshua did, but we do have specific assurances about God’s character—he is faithful, gracious, merciful, good—and about his relationship with us—he loves and cares for us, providing all that we need for spiritual success (which is the most important kind of success) and providing our needs for all the days he has planned for us. And when those days are over, we will be “absent from the body, and … present with the Lord” (2Co 5.8). Further, “we shall be like [Christ], for we shall see him as he is” (1J 3.2). 

So. What lies ahead? In this life, the assurance that God is working his good plan and keeping his promises; and in the next, eternity with him. 

Sounds like it’s all good. 

Now, we know by just looking around that this “all good” includes hard things, things that we would consider “bad.” What about that? 

God’s not finished talking to Joshua yet. We’ll look at his further words next time. 

Photo by Nathan McDine on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Personal Tagged With: Joshua, Old Testament, retirement, transition

On Turning a Page, Part 1: Begin with Obedience

May 29, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

I’ve already published a couple of posts on my retirement, one on the why and one on the how. Now I’d like to exegete a biblical passage that I think sheds some light on a major life transition. It has already informed my thinking, and I’m confident that it will inform others facing transitions—retirement, perhaps, or other significant events. 

A significant pivot point in the biblical metastory is the move from Deuteronomy to Joshua. That crevasse is of course the end of the Torah, the five books of Moses, and the beginning of what the Jews call the Prophets, specifically the Former Prophets (which, in the main, we Christians call the books of History). It’s also the end of the leadership of Moses, whom we might call the first constitutional ruler of the nation of Israel, and the beginning of the leadership of Joshua, who to this point has been presented primarily as just a servant of, or aide to, Moses, and as one of just two believing spies of the Promised Land. 

That means some uncertainties. We’re leaving the familiar, the proved, the era of competence (more or less), and stepping out into the Great Unknown, facing challenges not previously experienced and the hard work of stewarding a new bailiwick and lifestyle. 

Sounds to me like retirement. :-) 

To this point in the biblical story, God has brought Israel out of slavery in Egypt; preserved them through 40 years of wilderness wandering; led them northward through hostile territory (Edom, Moab) on the east side of the Jordan; and brought them to an encampment at Shittim* in modern Jordan, across the Jordan River from Jericho, poised to enter and conquer the Land.  

 But now Moses is leaving. How on earth can Israel go on without him? 

Now, there’s a danger in trying to apply biblical narrative to a current situation. I’m facing a transition, but I’m not Israel, and God has not promised me a specific piece of real estate and the military might to expel the current owners. 

But there are similarities. I am one of God’s people, and he has made covenant promises to me as a member of his body, the church, and he is and will be as faithful to those promises as he has ever been, and I am at a point of transition, and Paul tells us that the Old Testament stories were indeed preserved in Scripture as examples for us (1Co 10.11). 

So what did God say to Joshua in his time of transition? And what do those words tell us about God and about His plans for us? 

God Is Great, and He Is in Charge 

He begins by reminding Joshua of the Most Important Thing: 

Moses my servant is dead. Now therefore arise, go over this Jordan, you and all this people, into the land that I am giving to them, to the people of Israel (Jos 1.2). 

The past, with all its familiarity, was under God’s sovereign direction. But God has given his people the unknown future as well, and he will see that his good will is done. And by implication Joshua and the people of Israel, like Moses, are God’s servants too, and the sensible thing for them to do is to obey him.  

So he gives them a command: “Go over this Jordan.” 

Now, at this time of year the Jordan was at flood stage, raging with whitewater and overflowing its banks (Jos 3.15b). That’s not something you just amble into, especially when you’re carrying all your stuff in wagons or in your arms. 

Retirement doesn’t mean you just quit showing up at work and begin every day by asking, “Hmmm; what do I think I want to do today?” There’s stuff you need to get done—logistical, financial, procedural stuff—and if you don’t, unpleasant things, some of them involving potentially hostile government officials, will happen. 

Gotta learn the new stuff and execute it precisely. Or else. 

But God had brought Israel through the Red Sea ahead of Pharaoh’s pursuing armies, and he had fed them and preserved their clothing—even their shoes! (Dt 29.5)—through forty years of wilderness wandering, and he was certainly able to get them across this crazy river. 

So they obey. They step into the river, and in that instant the flow stops and a path opens for them to cross in safety. 

God can do that. He’s in charge. 

He’s in charge through our transitions too. Obeying him is safe. 

Well, then; what about tomorrow? 

We’ll get into that next time. 

* Some people find this word embarrassing. I’ll note, first, that in Hebrew it is pronounced “shuh TEEM,” with the emphasis on the last syllable. I’ll also note that the word means “acacia trees”; the acacia is the tree you see on the African savannah all the time. It often leans to one side; I think of it as looking as though someone smacked it hard on the side of the head. 

Photo by Nathan McDine on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Personal Tagged With: Joshua, Old Testament, retirement, transition

Baccalaureate, Part 3

May 26, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1 | Part 2 

But you’re thinking (I hope) that those aren’t our greatest needs. They’re just the temporal ones. We have greater needs: forgiveness, relationship, grace, mercy, peace. Love. 

What do you know? They’re all free, too. 

Everything you need is free. 

God is so, so good. 

Yes, bad things do happen. Yes, the world is broken. Suffering is real, and injustice is real, and hate is real. 

But God has assured us, and the experience of millions of his people has taught us, that these evil things are not senseless or purposeless or permanent. Paul tells us that 

tribulation worketh patience; 4 And patience, experience; and experience, hope: 5 And hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us (Ro 5.3-5). 

Every athlete knows that the workouts—the suffering, if you will—are what strengthens you so that you can win. The coach is not a sadist; he is wise, and he is good. Any of the athletes on BJU’s national championship teams can tell us that. 

God is good. 

Another poet, the American e e cummings, captured that thought artfully, though surprisingly: 

i thank You God for most this amazing 
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees 
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything 
which is natural which is infinite which is yes 

(i who have died am alive again today, 
and this is the sun’s birthday;this is the birth 
day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay 
great happening illimitably earth) 

how should tasting touching hearing seeing 
breathing any—lifted from the no 
of all nothing—human merely being 
doubt unimaginable You? 

(now the ears of my ears awake and 
now the eyes of my eyes are opened) 

God is indeed good. 

So where do we go from here? What’s around the corner at this pivotal point in our graduates’ lives? 

Back to the child’s simple prayer: 

God is great. 
God is good. 
Let us thank him. 

And, I might add, let us trust him, even in a chaotic and, for some, frightful world. 

The British lyricist Michael Perry captured this spirit perfectly, I think, in just one stanza in his great hymn “O God Beyond All Praising”: 

Then hear, O gracious Savior, 
     accept the love we bring, 
that we who know your favor 
     may serve you as our king; 
and whether our tomorrows 
     be filled with good or ill, 
we’ll triumph through our sorrows 
     and rise to bless you still: 
to marvel at your beauty 
     and glory in your ways, 
and make a joyful duty 
     our sacrifice of praise. 

May it be so for all of us. Let’s pray. 

24 The Lord bless thee, and keep thee: 
25 The Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee: 
26 The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace (Numbers 6.24-26). 

Amen. 

Filed Under: Personal, Theology Tagged With: general revelation

Baccalaureate, Part 2

May 22, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1 

Another, very different perspective: 

John Gillespie McGee Jr., a British pilot in WW1, captured this concept more lyrically in his poem High Flight: 

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth 
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings; 
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth 
of sun-split clouds,—and done a hundred things 
You have not dreamed of—wheeled and soared and swung 
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there, 
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung 
My eager craft through footless halls of air …. 

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue 
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace 
Where never lark, or even eagle flew— 
And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod 
The high untrespassed sanctity of space, 
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God. 

A century ago another poet, an American college English teacher named Odell Shepard, in one stanza of a poem he called “Whence Cometh My Help,” wrote of the mountains this way: 

All the wisdom, all the beauty I have lived for unaware 
Came upon me by the rote of highland rills; 
I have seen God walking there 
In the solemn soundless air 
When the morning wakened wonder in the hills. 

The greatness of God is vividly apparent all around us, even to those who deny he exists. 

God is indeed great. Insuperably great. Unimaginably great. 

Years ago there was a commercial for Sherwin Williams paint. The opening shot was of the space shuttle on the launch pad, with a voiceover counting down: “3 … 2 … 1 … ignition!” And those two solid-rocket boosters kick in, and the screen fills with flame and then white smoke, until all you can see is white. And then, the white subtly changes. A door opens away from you, and you’re looking at a typical American bathroom. The voice says, “We developed the paint for the space shuttle. [Door opens.] Chances are, we can handle your bathroom.” 

I say this reverently: Chances are the God who “made the stars also” can handle the challenges of your life. 

God Is Good 

To his protégé Timothy Paul calls God 

the living God, who giveth us richly all things to enjoy (1Ti 6.17b). 

Years ago it occurred to me that everything we really need—literally everything—is free. That’s the way God has arranged the universe. 

Don’t believe me? Hear me out. 

What do you need more than anything else in the world? If you lack it for 30 seconds, it will be literally all you think about until you get some. 

Yep, air. Or more specifically, oxygen. 

Free. 

We’re sitting at the bottom of an ocean of it—an ocean that God has kindly diluted with nitrogen so you won’t burst into flame at the slightest spark. God’s even given you a scoop on the front of your head so you’ll get your share of the stuff. Some of you he gave a larger scoop to, and you have the gall to be upset with him about that. Shame on you. 

What’s the second most necessary thing? Water. They say you can last 3 days without it—some maybe as much as 8 to 10 days under certain conditions. But not long. 

Most of the globe is covered with it. And that water mass feeds a delivery system that brings it right to your feet, purified, for free. (Unless you live in the Atacama Desert, which hardly anybody does.) And again, many of us complain when it rains. Especially at the beach. 

Granted, I pay a water bill, but I’m not really paying for the water; I’m paying for someone to clean it up and bring it to my house. But the water—it’s free. 

What’s next? Food. Grows right out of the ground, from plants that are already there. Free. Again, I pay for my food, but only because I don’t feel like growing it myself. So I pay somebody else to grow and harvest and deliver it; and sometimes I go out to a restaurant and pay somebody else to cook it and bring it to my table. But the food? The food’s free. 

And then there’s light, and heat, and all the other physical necessities. All free. 

God has been remarkably good to us. 

We’ll finish this thought—and the rest of the sermon—in the next post. 

Filed Under: Personal, Theology, Uncategorized Tagged With: general revelation

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