Bible – Page 3

How to Begin a Life of Praise, Part 2

February 20, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Psalm 1 begins Israel’s book of praise by setting forth the way to think and walk in wisdom (Ps 1.1-3). But there’s another choice, a second stanza, and David makes the choice and its consequences clear. Parallel to his first stanza (see Part 1), he describes the person who chooses badly—though his description is brief (Ps 1.4)—and then he identifies the outcome of the choice.

⁴The ungodly are not so: but are like the chaff which the wind driveth away. ⁵Therefore the ungodly shall not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous (Ps 1.4-5).

Those who choose not to walk in wisdom, he says, are like chaff, or the worthless husk on grain. Chaff protects the grain during its development, but once you get to the eating stage, it’s just in the way. Every Israelite would be familiar with the process of harvesting grain: cutting, sheaving, threshing, winnowing. You cut the stalks and gather them into bundles for transport to the threshing floor, which is a flat stone surface. Using oxen, you pull a threshing sledge, constructed of heavy wooden beams in which perhaps bits of stone or metal are embedded, across the stalks until the straw is separated from the kernels.

But now you have the husk problem. How do you get rid of them? Using a shovel or fork, you toss the grains into the air, where the breeze blows away the lightweight husks, leaving the kernels to fall back to the ground.

Good riddance.

That’s how David describes the ungodly. His son Solomon will later use a similar metaphor, describing all of life under the sun as “vanity and vexation of spirit”—or perhaps “chasing the wind” (Ec 1.14).

There is, of course, a wrinkle here, one that David doesn’t state outright but that the rest of Scripture makes abundantly clear.

Metaphors typically have just a single point of likeness; the thing you’re talking about and thing you’re comparing it to aren’t alike in every respect.

And so, in the contrast between the wise and the ungodly, huskhood need not be permanent. The ungodly can turn and choose to walk in the way of wisdom. Later in Scripture we learn that that’s called “repentance,” which, accompanied by faith, turns the sinner into a saint, the runaway into a child of God.

For now, David’s not expounding on that. He lays out the two paths and thereby encourages us readers to choose wisely.

In verse 5 he describes the end of the persistently ungodly. Judgment is coming, and it will not be pleasant. Again his implied appeal is just under the surface: don’t be a fool; don’t choose the evil path; turn and walk with the godly, whose end is glorious.

David ends the psalm with a summarizing statement:

⁶For the LORD knoweth the way of the righteous: but the way of the ungodly shall perish (Ps 1.6).

There are two paths in life, with very different thinking and very different outcomes. One leads to life with our Creator; the other leads to destruction.

Choose life.

The next 149 psalms will develop this theme, as will Proverbs and the other Wisdom Books. Wisdom doesn’t require intelligence or good looks or money or a trophy wife.

All it requires is noticing something that should be obvious.

Photo by David Marcu on Unsplash

How to Begin a Life of Praise, Part 1

February 17, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

In recent months I’ve been working on memorizing key Psalms, those that seem particularly to speak to me. So far I’ve memorized 11 of the first 30, and I’ve found it exhilarating.

We all know that the biblical book of Psalms is Israel’s hymnbook, consisting of 150 poems written by several authors, of whom David contributed the most. We also know that while we have the words, we don’t have the tunes; for some reason, ancient Israel didn’t see fit to record any of them, and I guess they didn’t have a music notation system—at not one that survived. And further, if you’ve memorized the words in English, it’s pretty certain that even if we knew the tunes, they wouldn’t match words that we could sing.

But the words, which are inspired, are enough.

The hymnbook begins, of course, with Psalm 1. Biblical scholars are all but certain that the Psalms were collected by later worship leaders, who organized them in ways they saw fit—they’re in 5 volumes—and many scholars think that Psalm 1 was placed first because it encapsulates or summarizes the following 149 pieces. It’s the place to start.

The Psalm is pretty clearly organized into 2 stanzas, so I think I’ll cover it in 2 posts.

The first 3 verses speak of the life of the godly person. Verses 1 and 2 describe him negatively, then positively, and then verse 3 identifies the consequences of his wise decisions.

Who is the wise person? What is he not like, and what is he like?

¹Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful. ²But his delight is in the law of the LORD; and in his law doth he meditate day and night (Ps 1.1-2).

Well, he’s not like the ungodly. He doesn’t take their advice, nor hang out with them as though a companion, nor plant himself square in the middle of their worldview. Many students of Scripture have seen a progression in verse 1, and I think they’re right. He begins by walking alongside them, then stays with them when they get where they’re going, and eventually just grabs a chair and gets comfortable.

We use the expression “He’s hanging out with the wrong crowd.” That’s this guy. And that’s not wisdom; it’s a foolish way to live. The wise man is not like that.

Well, then, what is he like?

He immerses himself in “the law of the Lord.” Now, to David that pretty clearly meant the Torah, the 5 books of Moses, which we call the Pentateuch. That’s nearly all the Scripture that David had in his day.

He wanted to hear what God had to say, and to know it well—obviously, so he could do what it said.

Now, I don’t think I’m abusing the text when I say that our wise thinking should include immersing ourselves in the Word that God has given us since David’s day. That’s why pastors urge us to be in the Word daily; that’s not a direct biblical command, but it certainly follows the mindset David sets forth here. Immersion, meditation, delight.

In my experience, the Scripture is self-motivating: it may seem uninteresting in places—or even pretty much entirely—at first, but the more you invest in it, the more delight you find, and the more you love it.

Most people don’t think that way. And that’s the point.

So what happens when we do that?

³And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper (Ps 1.3).

We are nourished; we are stable; we make a positive difference in this world, and that influence endures—it lasts longer than the typical fad.

What does “whatsoever he doeth shall prosper” mean? Well, it clearly doesn’t mean that every godly person will be rich; the Scripture presents plenty of poor godly people without any sense of awkwardness or embarrassment. It doesn’t mean that all our dreams will be fulfilled; David himself evidences that.

What is biblical “prospering,” anyway? It’s fulfilling God’s purpose for us as individuals—finding our providentially ordained place in this world and filling it well. With divine empowerment, we can do that.

Next time: what if we choose the other path?

Part 2

Photo by David Marcu on Unsplash

Immanuel, Part 5: Forever

December 19, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Creation | Part 2: Covenant | Part 3: Marriage | Part 4: Turning the Page

As we’ve seen in this series, God has always wanted to dwell with his people. From the very beginning he made humans in his image and apparently walked with them in the Garden. Throughout the biblical narrative there are people who “walk with God,” and the storyline consists largely of God’s choosing a people for himself: first, a nation (Abraham, Moses, David) and then a spiritual kingdom, the church, which, following Jesus’ Great Commission, will take his story, and the opportunity for fellowship with him, to the ends of the earth.

We find ourselves in the process of fulfilling that Commission, waiting expectantly for his return. Though we don’t know when that will happen, we do know that it may happen at any time. We don’t know how far away the tape is in this race.

But one day he will come. Some Christians (amillennialists and postmillennialists) think that eternity will begin right then. Others, including me (premillennialists) think there will first be a thousand-year earthly reign of Christ, the Millennium, during which sin and death will still be operative, but righteousness and justice will prevail under the perfect King. And then, eternity.

The Bible doesn’t seem to have a lot to tell us about the eternal state—though it speaks much, in my opinion, about the Millennium. (My premill assumptions are showing here.) Most of what we can read about eternity is in the last two chapters of the Scripture, Revelation 21 and 22.

So I pose a question. Will this fellowship, this walking with God, his dwelling in the midst of his people—will that continue beyond time and into eternity? Is history just preparation for an eternal dwelling with God?

Let’s survey those two chapters.

After the Millennium (Re 20) and the Great White Throne judgment (Re 20.11-15), which ends with the “second death,” when “death and hell [are] cast into the lake of fire” (Re 20.14-15), the eternal state begins. And it begins with the presentation of the new heaven and new earth. Note the matrimonial language here: the New Jerusalem is “prepared as a bride adorned for her husband” (Re 21.2), and eventually an angel calls the heavenly Jerusalem “the bride, the Lamb’s wife” (Re 21.9). It’s no stretch to see this as a continuation of the marital language God has used to describe first Israel and then the church. This is the realization, the consummation, of that intimate relationship.

And how is it described?

The tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God (Re 21.3).

After a description of the city, John says,

I saw no temple therein: for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it (Re 21.22).

And again,

The throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it; and his servants shall serve him: ⁴And they shall see his face; and his name shall be in their foreheads (Re 22.3-4).

And finally,

The Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely (Re 22.17).

And there is our answer.

God dwells with his people not just for time, but for eternity.

That has always been the plan.

So the Bible is, in literary terminology, an inclusio: it begins and ends with the same theme of God’s desire to dwell with his people in the most intimate and eternal of relationships.

It will be done.

This Christmas season we’re reminded of the completeness of God’s commitment to this relationship, and the certainty that it will happen.

Immanuel.

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Immanuel, Part 2: Covenant

December 9, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Creation

God begins our story by emphasizing that he wants to fellowship intimately with us. The book of Genesis contains many indications of that idea not mentioned in the previous post—his fellowship with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob most notably, a story punctuated with the building of altars and the offering of sacrifices that speak of such fellowship, and indeed of love.

As we move into Exodus, the theme continues.

God has promised Abraham that he will give his descendants a certain land—the land God has directed him to, and on which Abraham has already walked—the land of Canaan. As Exodus opens, Jacob (Israel) and his handful of descendants have left the land of promise—because they were in danger of starving in the famine—and have relocated to Egypt, at the clear providential direction of God through Jacob’s son Joseph. And under Joseph’s protection, they flourish there.

But dark times come. A new Pharoah arises, who knows nothing of the centuries-old stories of Joseph, the savior of Egypt, and who sees Jacob’s descendants as simply a supply of free manual labor.

So the Israelites become slaves—toiling under merciless taskmasters, and for free.

But God sees, and he hears their cries, and he raises up Moses, providentially raised in Pharaoh’s very courts, to take a message to Pharaoh:

Let my people go.

Did you hear that?

My people. Mine.

Family. Intimacy. Love.

And through a series of plagues, which are clearly direct attacks on and defeats of Egypt’s many gods, the LORD brings his beloved people out of Egypt, through the Red Sea to Sinai, where he meets with their leaders—face to face with Moses—and enters into a covenant with them. That covenant is rich and multifaceted; he is their Lord, their King. But he is also their Husband.

He marries them.

And during an extended period with Moses on the mountain, he gives extensive instructions for a Tabernacle, a tent where he will dwell among them. When Moses returns down the mountain, his face shines with the intensity of his fellowship with God.

And with the energetic cooperation of the people, skilled and gifted craftsmen build the tent to the exact specifications God has given. They call it “the Tent of Meeting,” because in that simple edifice both Moses and the high priest can meet with God. The Tabernacle is set up in the very middle of the camp.

And as the crowning element of this marriage ceremony, the visible light of God’s presence, the pillar of cloud and fire¹, descends and hovers over the tent, directly over the Holiest Place, the section of the tent where the Ark of the Covenant is placed.

This Ark is a gold-plated box containing the Ten Commandments—the marriage license, if you will—and Aaron’s rod, the symbol of priestly authority. Its solid-gold lid, the Covering or Mercy Seat, features images of two cherubim facing each other, and God says that he dwells there on the Mercy Seat, between the cherubim. It is there that the high priest, once a year on the Day of Atonement, sprinkles the sacrificial blood that will cover the sins of the people for another year.

God dwells among them.

He has married them, and now they move in together and set up house.

Next time: the theme continues.

¹ In my loosely held opinion, there were not two pillars, one of “cloud” during the day and another of “fire” during the night, with daily transitions from one to the other. Rather there was a single bright white pillar, which looked like a bright cloud during daylight hours and then, with darkness, appeared more luminescent, like fire. The cloud is referred to as a “pillar [singular] of cloud and of fire” in Ex 14.24. This seems consistent with Solomon’s statement that the Lord “would dwell in thick darkness” (1K 8.12 // 2Ch 6.1; cf. Ex 20.21; Dt 4.11; 5.22).

Part 3: Marriage | Part 4: Turning the Page | Part 5: Forever

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On Winning the War, Part 4: The Devil 

December 2, 2024 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Part 1: Identifying the Enemy | Part 2: The World | Part 3: The Flesh

The third front in our three-front war, according to the common saying, is “the devil.” In the Old Testament he’s called Hasatan, the adversary; in the New, ho diabolos, the accuser (literally, the one who throws things through you). The biblical description clearly presents him as a person, someone who makes accusations (Job 1) and seeks “whom he may devour” (1P 5.8).

There’s a lot of material in popular culture about the devil, most of it designed to get your money by scaring the daylights out of you. Dark forces, unknown evil, strange phenomena, irresistible power. At the same time, in the evangelical world there’s a lot of material on “spiritual warfare” and chanting essentially magical incantations at demonic forces. Both of these views are wrong, because both of them contradict the biblical picture of Satan and his servants.

The biblical picture is straightforward, matter of fact, without a hint of suspense or fear. Satan exists, but he exists by God’s allowance and under his authority. He has to ask permission before he can interfere with God’s servant (Job 1-2). God’s people are to be serious about and attentive to his presence and works (1P 5.8), but we are never told to fear him; in fact the only being we are ever told to fear is God himself (1P 2.17).

And this God can defeat Satan—indeed, he already has (Lk 10.18), and he delays Satan’s eternal destruction because of his plan, not because of any lack of power over him (Re 20.1-3, 7-10).

So how are we supposed to defeat him in the meantime? In Peter’s passage already cited, we’re told simply to “resist him steadfast in the faith” (1P 5.9). But what does that look like?

A key passage given us in answer to this reasonable and important question is Ephesians 6.10-18:

10 Finally, be strong in the Lord, and in the strength of His might. 11 Put on the full armor of God, that you may be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil. 12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places. 13 Therefore, take up the full armor of God, that you may be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. 14 Stand firm therefore, having girded your loins with truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, 15 and having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace; 16 in addition to all, taking up the shield of faith with which you will be able to extinguish all the flaming missiles of the evil one. 17 And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. 18 With all prayer and petition pray at all times in the Spirit, and with this in view, be on the alert with all perseverance and petition for all the saints.

We resist him, Paul says, in the strength of God’s might, by use of “the full armor of God.” He extends this metaphor to include a number of particulars, weapons to be used both defensively and offensively.

Defensive:

Truth. This truth, of course, is found reliably only in the Scripture. Temptation should cause us to flee for refuge to the Word, where we find the truth that lays open the devil’s lies.

Righteousness. As we know, we are declared righteous by God himself when we are justified—when we, as the vernacular puts it, “get saved.” From that day on, we are certainly and effectively protected.

Peace. Peace, too, comes from the gospel, the good news that our great tempter is toothless because our sins, of which he truthfully accuses us, have been forgiven and dismissed from the heavenly courtroom.

Faith. We trust God ongoingly because he has proved himself faithful to us, something the devil has never demonstrated himself to be. In fact, we have daily evidence that he is the father of lies.

Salvation. To mix the metaphor for a moment, salvation is the umbrella over all this. Because God has rescued us, we are righteous; we have peace; we are empowered to keep believing, and we are illuminated by the Spirit to understand and apply the truth of the Scripture.

Offensive:

The Spirit. God himself, in the person of the Spirit, indwells us permanently, every day empowering us to wrestle and pin this imposing but lying impostor. We can be confident but not cocky, for we are not the powerful one in this battle.

Victory lies around and ahead. Seize it.

Photo by Henry Hustava on Unsplash

On Winning the War, Part 3: The Flesh

November 25, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Identifying the Enemy | Part 2: The World

The second front in our three-front war, according to the common saying, is “the flesh.” The Bible uses this word in a couple of ways, one positive and the other negative. Sometimes the word refers to the sensitive part of us, the tender part, the living part—similarly to the way we use the expression “it cut to the quick.” Twice through the prophet Ezekiel God says, “I will take the stony heart out of their flesh, and will give them an heart of flesh” (Ezk 11.19; cf Ezk 36.26). That’s a good thing.

But the Bible, particularly in Paul, also speaks of the flesh as the evil that lives within us (Ro 7.18)—what Paul also calls the “old man” (Ro 6.6), and what theologians refer to as the “sinful nature.” And as I’ve noted in an earlier series, John names “the lust of the flesh” as part of what characterizes the lifestyle of “the world.”

I noted in that same earlier post that “the flesh” involves more than just sexual lust; it includes any physical desire that is inappropriate: gluttony, for example, or laziness. It’s interesting to me that all of these physical desires were given to us by God: we need food and sleep every day, and we need to reproduce for the survival of the species. They’re good things, all of them—but they make lousy gods, and they can destroy us if uncontrolled. Like fire, a useful servant but a fearful master.

So how do we fight the flesh? Particularly since these desires are things that we ought to exercise responsibly? Are we doomed to be like the alcoholic who has one drink a day and hopes—forlornly—that he can control it?

Not at all. The key to controlling the flesh, like the key to controlling physical addiction, is health—physical health for the addict, and spiritual health for the worshiper of the flesh. A helpful passage, I think, is Galatians 5.16-26:

16 But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not carry out the desire of the flesh. 17 For the flesh sets its desire against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh; for these are in opposition to one another, so that you may not do the things that you please. 18 But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the Law. 19 Now the deeds of the flesh are evident, which are: immorality, impurity, sensuality, 20 idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, outbursts of anger, disputes, dissensions, factions, 21 envying, drunkenness, carousing, and things like these, of which I forewarn you just as I have forewarned you that those who practice such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God. 22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23 gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. 24 Now those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. 25 If we live by the Spirit, let us also walk by the Spirit. 26 Let us not become boastful, challenging one another, envying one another.

Here’s how that works:

Recognize the fact of victory (Ga 5.16). We do not need to lose this battle; indeed, it has already been won (Ro 7.24-8.1). Many are discouraged that their struggle with the flesh is ongoing; but on the contrary, that struggle is a good sign. It indicates that the Spirit is doing his convicting work and conforming you, bit by bit, to the image of Christ (2Co 3.18). It indicates a tender heart, a “heart of flesh,” rather than a hardened one.

Be led by the Spirit (Ga 5.18). This is simply sanctification, or growth in grace. It’s the result of spiritual exercise through absorbing the Scripture, wrestling in prayer, and actively fellowshipping with other believers. Filling one’s mind with God’s thoughts will help drive out one’s own—or rather, transform them (Ro 12.2) from self-focused to outward- and upward-focused.

It’s a long haul, and it requires faithfulness. But victory is certain, in God’s good time.

Next time: dealing with the devil.

Photo by Henry Hustava on Unsplash

On Winning the War, Part 2: The World

November 21, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Identifying the Enemy

So we’re fighting a three-front war—something no one’s likely to win without divine power. Let’s take a look at the first enemy, the world.

I wrote some on this just a few posts ago, focusing primarily on definitional matters. Here I’d like to focus on how to fight so as to win. I think a key biblical source on this question is John’s first epistle.

The Right Family

I’d suggest that the essential requirement for this fight is being in the right family (or to continue the military metaphor, the right army); without this identity and the power it conveys, all is lost. John writes,

For whatever is born of God overcomes the world; and this is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith (1J 5.4).

To be effective in battle, a soldier has to be alive. In the spiritual battle against the combined forces of the world as organized in opposition to God, the spiritually dead have no hope.

But to be spiritually alive, a member of God’s family—now that equips and mobilizes a person for spiritual warfare. And John identifies the impetus for spiritual life: faith.

The biblical authors are agreed on this. Paul writes, “By grace are you saved, through faith—and that not of yourselves” (Ep 2.8). Peter writes of “the end of your faith, even the salvation of your souls” (1P 1.9). The author to the Hebrews states, “Without faith it is impossible to please [God]” (He 11.6).

Faith is simply trusting God to forgive your sins on the basis of Christ’s death on your behalf (Ro 3.21.28).

How do you know if you’re in?

Well, there are actually several signs of that, but let me focus on just one: your attitude toward sin will change. Whereas you once loved your sin, you now see it accurately as your enemy, the destroyer of your soul. And you turn from it. The Bible calls that “repentance.” You won’t completely stop sinning—in my opinion that’s impossible this side of the grave—but your attitude toward sin will change, and you’ll fight against it. As time goes on and you gain fighting experience, you’ll get better at the fight, but you’ll be attitudinally on board from the very beginning (1J 3.9).

The Right Focus

Any combat veteran will tell you that to succeed in battle, you have to pay attention. Focus is absolute.

Just after identifying faith as the key in the verse quoted above (1J 5.4), John writes,

And who is the one who overcomes the world, but he who believes that Jesus is the Son of God? (1J 5.5).

As a believer, you keep your focus on Jesus, the Christ, the Son of God, because he is the one we follow, we serve. He is the battlefield commander, and following his orders certainly eventuates in victory. Why is that? Because Jesus, as God, is all-powerful and cannot be defeated.

You are from God, little children, and have overcome them; because greater is He who is in you than he who is in the world (1J 4.4).

In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world (Jn 16.33).

To win this fight, every soldier needs to concentrate on Christ, study him, learn him. Everything else is a distraction.

Focusing on Christ will also enable you to focus on the long-term rather than the short-term. The English poet William Wordsworth wrote, “The world is too much with us.” It fills our peripheral vision with distractions, like the mobile over a baby’s crib, and we’re tempted to fritter away our limited lifetime on passing, temporary things: stuff, applause, pop culture, and a host of other trivia.

When your mind is focused on the eternal—most especially, likeness to the image of Christ (2Co 3.18)—the flashing neon roadside signs seem dim and worthless. Like an experienced driver, you focus down the road, taking in the whole scene and driving responsibly, safely, effectively, arriving at your destination, which was the whole point of being on the road in the first place.

Focus. It will enable you to defeat your enemy the world.

Photo by Henry Hustava on Unsplash

On Danger, Fear, and God’s Care

November 14, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

We all face challenges. Some people face genuine dangers from genuine enemies. And most of them face fear.

God doesn’t experience any of these things. He faces nothing that could be described as a challenge to his omnipotence, and though he has powerful enemies, he is greater than them all, and their defeat is sure. And consequently, he is never afraid.

So how does someone like that respond to someone like us? Does he understand challenge, and enemies, and fear? Does he care?

King David, who had plenty of challenges and enemies and fears, had some thoughts on that in many of his writings. Today I choose to consider Psalm 6.

David is facing a fearsome trial. He mentions physical issues (Ps 6.2), but I’m inclined to think his real concern is “enemies” (Ps 6.7). He clearly thinks his life is in danger (Ps. 6.5).

And so he meditates and writes out his thoughts.

The Psalm has three sections. He begins by presenting his appeal to God (Ps 6.1-5); then he lays out the anguish that his situation is causing (Ps 6.6-7); and then he finishes by describing the assurance he has in God’s care and deliverance (Ps 6.8-10).

Appeal (Ps 6.1-5)

David begins by admitting—implicitly—that God has reason to be angry with him (Ps 6.1). He doesn’t go into detail. Here we see someone who is in the same situation we are: we need deliverance by God’s hand, but we know we don’t come to him from a position of strength. We need grace; we need mercy (Ps 6.2).

David’s situation is desperate; he expresses himself in broken phrases, in grunts (Ps 6.3). Interestingly, Jesus appears to use David’s words as he prays in the Garden of Gethsemane (Jn 12.27) before his arrest, trial, and crucifixion.

David asks God to “turn” to him, as if he had turned away for some reason (Ps 6.4). The Hebrew word is shub, a word commonly used for turning from sin in repentance (e.g. Is 30.15; 44.22; 55.7). David asks God to change his mind.

He cites two motivations for God to deliver him: God’s “mercies” (Ps 6.4), or hesed, and his glory (Ps 6.5)—that is, the thanksgiving he will receive for acting to deliver.

Is that an appeal to some selfish motive in God? I don’t think so. First, God’s glory, unlike ours, is something actually deserved and appropriate; God is not like his limited creatures. And second, is there anything wrong with enjoying being thanked? Don’t we like to be thanked when we do something for someone we love? Is it selfish to revel in someone else’s joy?

Anguish (Ps 6.6-7)

David lays out the evidences of his anguish, which in turn is evidence of the seriousness of the danger he faces.

He is exhausted by the constant pressure of the situation (Ps 6.6a).

He weeps through the night (Ps 6.6b)

His perspective is colored—poisoned—by the stress of the situation (Ps 6.7).

Assurance (Ps 6.8-10)

During his prayer, David receives assurance that the Lord has heard him and will answer (Ps 6.8-9). We don’t know exactly how this worked; it may be as simple as his believing God’s earlier promises to hear the prayers of his people (Ex 22.27), or knowing God’s character well enough to anticipate similar future promises (Is 65.24; Zec 13.9).

For whatever reason, David knows. And so he begins to address his enemies directly, and he flips the situation against them. At the beginning of his prayer, he is the one who is deeply troubled (Ps 6.2); but now, his enemies find themselves in that situation (Ps 6.10). Earlier, he has asked God to turn, to change (Ps. 6.4); but now, he calls on his enemies to turn and change (Ps 6.10), with the same verb he used of God earlier.

So what do we see here?

God’s people call on him when they are afraid.

He hears, even when they don’t “deserve” it.

And he answers by reversing the situation, judging his enemies, and protecting his people.

Timely advice whenever we’re afraid.

Photo by Alexandra Gorn on Unsplash

On Faith and Culture, Part 6: The Big Idea 

November 7, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Flexible Evangelism | Part 3: Drawing the Line 1 | Part 4: Drawing the Line 2 | Part 5: Choosing Wisely

When we’re making these difficult decisions about our relationship to a new culture—or even to the one we know best—it’s wise to keep the Big Idea in mind. That Big Idea, of course, is the biblical metanarrative—the story of God’s working out his plan for the world and all who are in it.

To begin with, God creates mankind in his image and gives him dominion over a creation that is “very good” (Ge 1.31). But due to Adam’s sin, creation is marred, and the image is distorted.

As he had always planned, the Creator sets out to restore his image and the beauty of his creation. He chooses a line of humans to eventuate in a Deliverer, whom he anoints as prophet, priest, and king. And that Deliverer restores the image by living a life that provides positive righteousness to all who believe, and then by dying a death that pays sin’s penalty for all who will come.

And then he begins to gather a people who will praise his name. He invites “the Jew first,” but he inaugurates a new body, the church, to erase national and ethnic boundaries. These diverse peoples will gather weekly to look one another in the face and exercise their gifts for the betterment of them all.

In his epistle most closely associated with this concept, Ephesians, Paul begins by announcing the elements of God’s work of salvation (Ep 1) and then the radical effects of salvation: loving unity between former enemies—first, God and man (Ep 2.1-13) and then Jews and Gentiles (Ep 2.14-22). And then, the aim and purpose of it all: the glory of God (Ep 3.10).

And here we slow down dramatically in our storytelling. Paul says he has a “dispensation”—a commission, a stewardship, a trust—from God, who has entrusted him with the message of the gospel to the Gentiles. He has been faithful to that trust; after multiple missionary journeys across the Roman Empire, he returns to Jerusalem, where he is arrested as a troublemaker at the very mention of the Gentiles (Ac 22.21). And he was in Jerusalem specifically to bring a monetary gift from the Gentile church to the predominantly Jewish church in Jerusalem—to act out the very unity that he has been preaching.

This “dispensation” is to “gather together in one all things in Christ” (Ep 1.10). It was no surprise that Gentiles would eventually worship the God of Israel; God’s covenant with Abraham had noted that in him “all nations of the earth would be blessed” (Ge 12.3), and the prophets had detailed the coming of all nations to the Temple in Jerusalem (Is 2.1-4; 27.12-13).

But that Gentiles would enter the kingdom not by converting to Judaism, but with equal standing—that was new revelation (Ep 3.6).

In all of this, God would be glorified

Through his unsearchable riches (Ep 3.7-8)
Through his eternal plan (Ep 3.9)
Through his manifold wisdom
- Exhibited to the angels (Ep 3.10)
- And experienced by the church (Ep 3.11-12)

This new body, the church, is united across all cultural boundaries because it is rooted and grounded in love (Ep 3.14-17) and unified in their apprehension (Ep 3.18)—because they are all united perfectly with the Father (Ep 3.19).

This will most surely come to pass, despite all the things that fragment our fellowship today. God’s plan is that this be revealed in, through, and by the church. May we all be part of that fulfillment.

Photo by Joseph Grazone on Unsplash

James’s Big Ideas, Part 4: Works

September 19, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Wisdom | Part 3: Words

One more theme makes itself obvious in James’s little letter. Multiple times he uses a Greek verb, or its noun equivalent, to speak of our works.

He notes a couple of ways that humans naturally “work” evil:

We exhibit wrath (Jam 1.20).

We discriminate against people—specifically the poor (Jam 2.9—translated “commit” or “committing” in many of the English versions).

But God doesn’t leave us in our sorry state. The first thing James comments on in his letter is that God “works” in his people through trials, to develop endurance in them. When he has rescued us from our inborn proclivities, he begins to work on us, shaping us, trying us, so that we will be mature examples of his people.

And what do you suppose happens then?

We begin to “work” in ways that we were unable to before. In fact, it becomes impossible for us not to respond to God’s work in us with our works—works that provide evidence of the genuineness of our faith. In James’s memorable words, “Faith without works is dead” (Jam 2.20).

He gives us two historical examples of believers who demonstrated their faith by their works:

Abraham (Jam 2.21), who obeyed God’s command to take his promised son, Isaac, to Moriah and sacrifice him, until God stopped him at the very last moment (Hebrews 11.19 tells us that he believed that God would raise his son from the dead after he had sacrificed him.)

Rahab (Jam 2.25), who protected the Israelite (enemy!) soldiers and enabled them to escape the Canaanite forces

This kind of obedience perfectly exemplifies the attitude James has already described—and commanded—in chapter 1: that we should be doers of the Word, and not merely hearers (Jam 1.25). Abraham heard the word directly, of course; God spoke to him audibly (Ge 22.2), as he did relatively often in those days before the arrival of the Living Word (He 1.1-2) and the completion of the Written.

But the case of Rahab is less obvious, more subtle. There is no indication that God ever spoke to her. She and her people had heard—through the rumor mill—of the parting of the Red Sea and of Israel’s defeat of the two Amorite kings (Jos 2.10). I suppose we could say that the word Rahab heard from God was general, rather than special, revelation. But while her countrymen had responded as unbelievers, in fear, she had responded in faith: “Yahweh your God, he is God in heaven above and in earth beneath” (Jos 2.11). And that faith unavoidably made itself plain in her decisions and the consequent actions.

Here we have clear evidence of God’s working in the hearts of those who believe in him to produce evidentiary works.

Throughout his epistle James gives us plentiful specific examples of the kinds of works we will produce as God works in us.

Enduring temptation (faithfulness) (Jam 1.12)

Control of anger (Jam 1.19)

Responding to the Scripture’s correcting work (Jam 1.25)

Helping widows and orphans (Jam 1.27)

Nondiscrimination (Jam 2.1)

Giving to the poor (Jam 2.15)

Controlling the mouth (Jam 3.2)

Sorrow for sin (Jam 4.9)

Rejection of materialism (Jam 4.13)

Honesty (Jam 5.1, 4)

Prayer (Jam 5.16)

And so it must be with us. We demonstrate our genuine faith through our “conversation,” our lifestyle, including both words and works, that displays the fruit of obedience. And that, James says, is wisdom (Jam 3.13).

So here, at the end, we find that all three of these Big Ideas come together. We gain wisdom from God, and that wisdom leads us to works that are consistent with our condition as believers, including words that bring life rather than death.

This epistle from the first generation of Jesus’ followers is as relevant today as ever.

Photo by madeleine ragsdale on Unsplash