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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In the Image of God, Part 1: What It Means

February 6, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

In my previous post I mentioned that God’s Spirit is working in us to conform us, eventually perfectly, to the image of the Son. I’d like to follow that up by thinking more deeply about our standing as in the image of God. 

It’s the first thing God tells us about ourselves. After He tells how He made everything else, He describes the last act of the Creation Week:  

26 And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth. 27 So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them” (Gen 1.26-27).  

You and I are made in the image of God. What does that mean? And what difference does it make? 

What is the image of God? Interestingly, the Bible never tells us directly what it is. But there are some clues: 

  • It distinguishes the human from the animals, who immediately precede man in the creation narrative.  
  • It characterizes both male and female (Ge 1.27).  
  • It’s something like the way a son resembles his father (Ge 5.1-3).  

 Over the centuries there have been a lot of suggestions. I’ve gone into more details about this in a previous series, but let me summarize the views here: 

  • It’s something we do: Dominion (Ge 1.28) 
  • It’s something we are:   
    • Morality (Ep 4.24) 
    • Relationship (male & female; social health)  
    • Sonship (Lk 3.38; Ge 5.3-5)  
    • It’s something we have:  
    • Creativity (Ge 1.1)  
    • Immortality  

    Or maybe it’s all of the above.  

    You were created to radiate the love and mercy and grace of God.  

     Now, we need to note a critical point: 

    We’re not the way God made us. 

    We’re not the same as the Adam that God created. Something significant has happened to us. Adam chose to sin, and now we’re busted.  

    The image in us has been marred. But it has not been destroyed. 

    After the Flood God told Noah, 

    Whoso sheddeth man’s blood, by man shall his blood be shed: for in the image of God made he man (Ge 9.6). 

    Here we’re told that the murder victim, though fallen like everyone else at this time in history, is in the image of God. 

    Further, James writes, 

    Therewith [with the tongue] bless we God, even the Father; and therewith curse we men, which are made after the similitude of God (Jam 3.9).  

     The word similitude here is the word Genesis uses for “likeness.” And it’s spoken of a time when there’s cursing going on—so it’s after the fall. 

    So we sinners are still in the image and likeness of God. 

    Toward the beginning of this post I asked two questions: what does it mean that we’re in the image of God? and what difference does it make? 

    Next time, we’ll get to the second question. 

    Photo by Ilia Zolas on Unsplash

    Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: anthropology, image of God, systematic theology

    On Sound Speech, Part 8: Closing Thoughts

    February 3, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

    Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 

    Well, we’ve covered some ground here. The Bible has a lot to say about sound speech. We have a lot of things to consider before we go shooting our mouths off. 

    Recall that we began this series by reviewing, briefly, how God speaks, under the assumption that as in other things, we ought to pattern our behavior, as much as possible, after his. 

    • God is slow to wrath; we should be too. 
    • God cannot lie; we should speak the truth. 
    • God is love; we should speak that truth in love. 
    • God has spoken in his Word; we should speak as though imbued with it. 
    • God speaks as one way of his caring for us; we should speak thankfully. 
    • God blesses; we should bless. 
    • God is gentle; we should speak gently. 
    • God speaks in ways that reflect who he is at heart; we should as well. And unlike God, we should conform our hearts to the right, something he has never needed to do. 

    Let’s cap this series with one more passage: 

    7 In all things shewing thyself a pattern of good works: in doctrine shewing uncorruptness, gravity, sincerity, 8 Sound speech, that cannot be condemned; that he that is of the contrary part may be ashamed, having no evil thing to say of you (Ti 2.7-8). 

    I’d suggest that we’re more likely to damage our reputation by our words than by our actions. Of course, we’re susceptible to doing bad things reactively, without much thought, in the heat of the moment; but words—the words come so easily. Good behavior is a laudable goal; but sound speech is the ultimate testimony to a godly heart. 

    It could go without saying—but it won’t—that we can’t reach this goal without supernatural empowerment. The Spirit of God, indwelling us, works in us day by day, moment by moment, bit by bit, to conform us to the image of God the Son (2Co 3.18). And one day, no matter how far short of perfection we fall, God will bring us to completion, to perfect conformity to Christ: 

    We shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is (1J 3.2). 

    But sanctification is a synergistic process; God works, but so do we, in cooperation with him. Let’s not just sit back and wait to be whanged in the head with glorification, as if by a faith healer on TV. Let’s take part in the process, seeking aggressively and thoughtfully to follow the biblical injunctions. 

    What would your world be like if your friends and acquaintances always spoke to you like that?  

    What would your world be like if you always spoke to your friends and acquaintances like that?  

    Can you imagine the growth? The spiritual strength? The peace? The joy?  

    Can you imagine a world where we can speak kindly, yet with conviction, to people with whom we disagree? Where we can come to understandings, even agreements, instead of canceling people, one after another, for as long as time endures?  

    Can you imagine?  

    Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

    Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: biblical theology

    On Sound Speech, Part 7 

    January 30, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

    Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 

    Gentleness 

    Be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear (1P 3.15). 

    Here the KJV uses the word meekness. Outside of Christian circles, influenced by the biblical language, our culture doesn’t use the word much. When we hear it, some are inclined to think of Casper Milquetoast, or a hen-pecked husband, or the guy the bullies kick sand on at the beach. 

    But if you’ve spent much time hearing sermons in church, you probably know that the biblical word means something very different from that. Meekness is strength tempered by gentleness; it’s power under control. It’s the weightlifter gently cradling his infant child in his arms; it’s the firefighter gently rescuing the kitten from the tree. It’s Jesus being moved by the sight of a widow escorting the body of her only son to his tomb, and saying to himself, “This will not stand!”—and then mightily raising the boy to life again and returning him to his mother. 

    Moses was meek, the veritable champion of meekness (Nu 12.3), yet he killed an Egyptian taskmaster and buried his corpse in the desert (Ex 2.11-12). He stood up to a group of bullies so that some young women could access a well to water their father’s flock (Ex 2.16-17). He led 2 million or so complaining Israelites—and Egyptian hangers-on—through 40 years of wandering in the wilderness after representing them before the God of heaven on Mount Sinai. 

    Moses was no pushover. 

    And his strength wasn’t always controlled; there was that Egyptian taskmaster, and there was also a time when he struck a rock in anger (Nu 20.7-12), thereby disqualifying himself from entrance into the Promised Land—at least until Jesus gave him a special invitation (Mt 17.3). 

    It’s possible to speak powerfully, yet meekly, and without sin. Someone asks us about the reason for our hope, and we can speak powerful words, but with an attitude that doesn’t drive him away unnecessarily. 

    Note that Peter here combines meekness with fear. Why the connection? I’d suggest that fear—respect—will encourage meekness. Of course, if we fear God, we’re going to represent him truthfully, reflecting, insofar as we can, his gentle character. And if we respect the person we’re answering, we won’t push him around, cut him off, or otherwise act toward him in ways inappropriate for someone in the image of God. 

    We don’t live in a gentle age. And because we don’t, gentleness will stand out against the chaotic social and cultural background. 

    Be the gentle one. 

    Genuineness 

    Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh (Mt 12.34 // Lk 6.45). 

    We should speak from our hearts. But that’s not really the point here: we all do indeed speak from our hearts, and that’s the source of a lot of our problems. 

    Your words demonstrate what you are on the inside; they paint a picture of the real you. And to the extent that the real us isn’t consistent with the characteristics of sound speech that we’ve been considering, we’re our own worst enemy. 

    In Part 4 of this series we talked about truthfulness. What we say ought to be the truth, and thus it ought to be an accurate, genuine reflection of who we are. 

    And that means that in order to speak soundly, we need to be healed from the inside out. We need to be regenerated, to be brought from spiritual death to spiritual life. 

    What I’m describing, of course, is what the Bible calls salvation, or justification, or conversion. I hope that you have entered that gate; if not, I hope you will—and if I can help you with that, please let me know. 

    No judgment. 

    But until then, you won’t be able to engage consistently in sound speech. 

    Even after conversion, this is a growing process; I’m not there yet, and neither are you. 

    But with time, improvement comes. May we all speak consistently with our heart, and in edifying ways as well. 

    A bit more to think about, in one last post.

    Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

    Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: biblical theology

    On Sound Speech, Part 6 

    January 27, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

    Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 

    Thankfully 

    We live under the shadow of God’s providence—his provision, his direction, his protection. All of our life springs from that truth. So when we speak to him, we should speak thankfully. 

    And when we speak to others, we should speak thankfully as well, because their presence in our lives, and the things their presence supplies, are all acts of God’s providence too. 

    1 Be ye therefore followers of God, as dear children; 2 And walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us, and hath given himself for us an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweetsmelling savour. 3 But fornication, and all uncleanness, or covetousness, let it not be once named among you, as becometh saints; 4 Neither filthiness, nor foolish talking, nor jesting, which are not convenient: but rather giving of thanks (Ep 5.1-4). 

    Recognition of God’s care for us will make us thankful for the care of others. Thankful to God, and thankful to them—and thankful enough to be inclined to express that thankfulness verbally. Thankful enough not to undercut their joy with “filthiness, [or] foolish talking, [or] jesting.” 

    It’s worth noting here that the prohibition of “jesting” doesn’t mean we shouldn’t tell jokes or comment on funny things. That word is talking about so-called “locker-room talk”: crude or coarse or obscene speech. It makes no sense to talk that way to people we’re thankful for. As noted earlier, we’re called to build others up, not tear them down. 

    Blessing 

    Several passages speak of the importance of blessing, rather than cursing, with our words. 

    9 Therewith [i.e, with the tongue] bless we God, even the Father; and therewith curse we men, which are made after the similitude of God. 10 Out of the same mouth proceedeth blessing and cursing. My brethren, these things ought not so to be (Jam 3.9-10). 

    Not rendering evil for evil, or railing for railing: but contrariwise blessing; knowing that ye are thereunto called, that ye should inherit a blessing (1P 3.9). 

    Bless them which persecute you: bless, and curse not (Ro 12.14). 

    Of course, this idea derives from the principle of edification; cursing doesn’t build people up. 

    We live in a hostile age. A great many people are angry at those who disagree with them, and they feel free to express that anger frankly and publicly on social media. In a sense that’s not new; people have always been angry at those who disagree with them, but it hasn’t always been possible for pretty much anybody to be his own publisher. A generation or two ago, people used the privacy of their cars to cuss out other drivers in ways they would never do to their faces. The spirit of cursing has always been with us. (I should note, I suppose, that by “cursing” here I don’t mean using bad language; I mean the opposite of blessing.) 

    What does it take for us to be speakers of blessing rather than cursing? 

    Well, to start with, it means we have to pay attention—to notice the good things in others, and not just the good things they do for us (we’ve already mentioned thankfulness), but all their good qualities. We need to pay closer attention to those around us than we do to our own interests, of whatever sort. 

    It also means that we need to speak up about those things. For some of us that means overcoming shyness; for others it means getting serious instead of just joshing people all the time. 

    Sometimes, for the sort of blessing that is more appropriate in private, we need to seek out private time with the person in order to deliver that message—as a teacher, for example, I can’t comment on a student’s academic performance in front of other students. But very often, we ought to consider speaking that blessing publicly, so others will hear it, and so the person we’re blessing will know that others have heard it. 

    Dale Carnegie didn’t invent this idea; it comes straight from the Bible. 

    Yet more next time. 

    Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

    Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: biblical theology

    On Sound Speech, Part 3

    January 13, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

    Part 1 | Part 2 

    And now, in the New Testament, God speaks in a way he never has before. 

    He speaks in person, visibly, incarnately, powerfully. 

    1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 The same was in the beginning with God. 3 All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made. 4 In him was life; and the life was the light of men. 5 And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not (Jn 1.1-5). 

    Later in that prologue his claim is even more explicit: 

    14 And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth. … 18 No man hath seen God at any time; the only begotten Son, which is in the bosom of the Father, he hath declared [lit., exegeted] him” (Jn 1.14-18). 

    With this change, God speaks through his incarnate, eternally human Son.  

    I should take a moment, I suppose, to deal with a possible objection to what I’ve just claimed. 

    There are many, including me, who believe that “the Angel of Yahweh” in the Old Testament is a preincarnate appearance of God the Son. If this idea is correct, then God did indeed speak “visibly” in the Old Testament, even appearing to be incarnate; as just one example, he appears to Abraham as one of three men walking down a road past Abraham’s tent, and he eats a meal with him (Ge 18.1-8)—and by the end of their conversation it’s clear that Abraham understands that he’s speaking face to face with God himself (Ge 18.22-33). But the angel is not directly presented in the Old Testament as God himself; what John is claiming in the prologue of his Gospel is qualitatively different. 

    To verify that the Son is the perfect expression of God—the Logos—the Father twice speaks from heaven, once at Jesus’ baptism: 

    And lo a voice from heaven, saying, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased (Mt 3.17). 

    and a second time at his Transfiguration: 

    and behold a voice out of the cloud, which said, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye him (Mt 17.5). 

    Perhaps 30 years after the Son returns to the Father in heaven, an anonymous author explains what has happened:  

    1 God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, 2 Hath in these last days spoken unto us by his Son, whom he hath appointed heir of all things, by whom also he made the worlds; 3 Who being the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person, and upholding all things by the word of his power, when he had by himself purged our sins, sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high; 4 Being made so much better than the angels, as he hath by inheritance obtained a more excellent name than they (He 1.1-4). 

    And finally, our friend John tells us that at the end of time God speaks again: 

    6 And he said unto me, It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely. 7 He that overcometh shall inherit all things; and I will be his God, and he shall be my son (Re 22.6-7). 

    When God speaks, he speaks the truth. He speaks justly. He speaks rightly. And good things happen.  

    Sure, sometimes he speaks in judgment. But even then—perhaps especially then—he speaks truth, and he speaks justly, and he speaks rightly. 

    We’ve engaged in this survey to summarize how God speaks, and specifically to consider following his example, to the extent that we are able, in our own speech. We’ll turn to that next time. 

    Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

    Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: biblical theology

    On Sound Speech, Part 2 

    January 9, 2025 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

    Part 1 

    We’re looking at God’s speech as a model for our own. The previous post ended with God speaking of delivering his people Israel from their Egyptian taskmasters, and of his keeping that promise through the plagues. 

    After crossing the Red Sea—miraculously—Israel travels to Mount Sinai, where they will meet God and receive the Law of Moses. 

    And God spake all these words, saying, 2 I am the Lord thy God, which have brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage (Ex 20.1-2). 

    And here come the Ten Commandments, a constitution for the new nation. For the next forty years, God talks to Moses as he wishes, and he talks to him in a special way.  

    The Lord talked with [Moses] face to face in the mount out of the midst of the fire (Dt 5.4). 

    Face to face, without distance, without danger. 

    As we know, those forty years were a judgment in response to Israel’s unbelief. But God is faithful, even when his people are not, and he brings them to the Promised Land and empowers their victory over the perverse peoples living in it. 

    Centuries pass. Israel is now well settled into the Land, after initially living in houses they didn’t build and eating from gardens they didn’t plant. And when they want a king, God gives them the king he had long ago promised them. David, the man after God’s own heart, the sweet singer of Israel, sets the nation off on a course toward prosperity and peace—and at the end of his life he reveals where his sweet songs came from: 

    1 Now these be the last words of David.  
    David the son of Jesse said,  
    And the man who was raised up on high,  
    The anointed of the God of Jacob,  
    And the sweet psalmist of Israel, said,  
    2 The Spirit of the Lord spake by me,  
    And his word was in my tongue.  
    3 The God of Israel said,  
    The Rock of Israel spake to me,  
    He that ruleth over men must be just,  
    Ruling in the fear of God.  
    4 And he shall be as the light of the morning, when the sun riseth,  
    Even a morning without clouds;  
    As the tender grass springing out of the earth  
    By clear shining after rain (2S 23.1-4). 

    After David and his son Solomon come other kings, mostly evil ones, and God, graciously, speaks once again, this time through prophets.  

    Therefore thus saith the Lord God,  
    Behold, I lay in Zion for a foundation a stone,  
    A tried stone, a precious corner stone, a sure foundation:  
    He that believeth shall not make haste (Is 28.16). 

    More prophets come, for three more centuries, bringing words from God, calling God’s people to truth, to righteousness, to justice, to peace. But for the most part, the people don’t listen. There are two periods of exile and a return, and then more self-centered living.  

     And after that, silence.  

     Four centuries of silence.  

     God does not speak.  

     And all the light and wisdom and truth and direction and power that consistently come when he speaks—are missing. They’re not there.  

     Silence from God is not a good thing.  

     When will he speak again?  

     When will we know what we so desperately need to know?  

    Oh, he will speak again, and he will speak in a way that he never has before. 

    Next time.

    Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

    Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: biblical theology

    On Sound Speech, Part 1

    January 6, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

    Do you have trouble with your mouth? 

    I do. And I always have. Since birth.  

    Really. 

    There are few things worse than saying something that you regret, whether immediately or eventually. 

    How should we then speak? 

    I’d like to take a few posts to meditate on that. 

    And I’d like to begin by considering someone who speaks, and who speaks well. 

    The Bible begins with a speech act: 

    In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. 2 And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. 3 And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. 4 And God saw the light, that it was good (Ge 1.1-4). 

    God spoke, and something good happened. As the chapter continues, he continues to speak, every utterance bringing things—good things—into existence, and by the end of the chapter God declares everything he has spoken, and thus created, to be “very good” (Ge 1.31). 

    A few generations later, God speaks to Noah, whom he has closed up in the Ark, and tells him to leave the ship that has been his shelter for the past year: 

    15 And God spake unto Noah, saying, 16 Go forth out of the ark, thou, and thy wife, and thy sons, and thy sons’ wives with thee. 17 Bring forth with thee every living thing that is with thee, of all flesh, both of fowl, and of cattle, and of every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth; that they may breed abundantly in the earth, and be fruitful, and multiply upon the earth (Ge 8.15-17). 

    Here the earth thrives with new life—a second chance at life, if you will—after a devastating judgment. God speaks, and good things happen. 

    But God is not done. He’s going to choose a people to bless in a special way, with a universal outcome: 

    Now the Lord had said unto Abram, Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father’s house, unto a land that I will shew thee: 2 And I will make of thee a great nation, and I will bless thee, and make thy name great; and thou shalt be a blessing: 3 And I will bless them that bless thee, and curse him that curseth thee: and in thee shall all families of the earth be blessed (Ge 12.1-3). 

    And so he does. But within just three generations Abraham’s descendants will be out of the Land, and decades later they will be slaves in Egypt—but they will have grown to 2 million strong.  

    And God will see the suffering of his people, and he will remember his promises to Abraham, and he will find Moses on the west side of the Arabian desert and speak once again, this time from a burning bush: 

    7 And the Lord said, I have surely seen the affliction of my people which are in Egypt, and have heard their cry by reason of their taskmasters; for I know their sorrows; 8 And I am come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land unto a good land and a large, unto a land flowing with milk and honey (Ex 3.7-8). 

    And he does deliver them, with a series of spectacular plagues that demonstrate that all the gods of Egypt are just papyrus tigers. And he will gather his people at the foot of a mountain in the Sinai, and he will speak them into existence as a nation. 

    God is demonstrating his power, and accomplishing global good, by his words. 

    But there’s much more to see here. 

    Next time. 

    Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

    Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: biblical theology

    On a New Year

    January 2, 2025 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

    Another new year. My 70th. After a while they all sort of blend together, don’t they? 

    Since I started this blog back in July 2017, this is my seventh New Year’s post. (I know the math doesn’t work; I didn’t post about New Year’s Day in 2018, because apparently I took a break between 12/18/17 and 1/8/18. I was young and relatively inexperienced in those days.) 

    Seven being the number of completeness, maybe I should quit after this one. But I don’t expect to. 

    It’s usually fun to reach a turning point like this—a new year, a new baby, a new job, a new house—and to anticipate the ways that it will change what lies ahead. I’m one of those optimists you hear about, and I tend to over-expect what good things might happen. That puts a spring in your step, but it also sets you up for disappointment. 

    Others, perhaps less optimistic, or just under realistic threat of coming or continuing hardship, have expectations that are less sanguine. If the optimist’s weak spot is disappointment, the pessimist’s is fear. 

    The Scripture speaks to both of those. 

    To the disappointed it speaks of God’s sovereign goodness, the rightness and propriety of the expected thing’s not happening. The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord (Ps 37.23). Further, it speaks of the importance of not finding our ultimate satisfaction in what happens to us here (Ec 1.2-3). 

    To the fearful it speaks abundantly; the expression “fear not” or something similar appears 75 times in the Scripture, and while many of those are referring to specific situations, the general application is clear. We fear God (Ec 12.13) but don’t fear anything else. 

    But it has more to say to both groups than that. Three interrelated thoughts. 

    First, this year, this life, this entire history of life on earth, are all temporary. Old coots are more sensitive to that than young ones (and yes, there can be young coots; look it up). The difficult things won’t last, and neither will the good things. While it’s impossible to be completely passive—stoic or Buddhist—about the trials and joys of life, we do find comfort in the knowledge that the trials will end, and we find warning in the knowledge that the earthly things we find joy in will not be permanent either. 

    Second, as I’ve noted, life is providential; there is a wise and loving God directing our path through, and including, the trials and joys. They make sense—though not always to us at the time—and they serve a good and profitable purpose. Paul tells us that 

    we glory in tribulations also: knowing 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). 

    The hard things—as well as the enjoyable things, I would add—give us the opportunity to endure, which makes us stronger, which enables us to overcome, which gives us confidence the next time. In our joys and in our sorrows, we’re getting useful things done, and we’re becoming the improved version of ourselves that will live forever. Life is temporary, but it’s an important investment. 

    And that leads to the third thought: there’s more and better coming, and it will not be broken, and it will not be temporary. And no, this is not pie in the sky (though, given that the tree of life bears fruit every month [Re 22.2]), maybe there will be pie; who knows?). This is the promise of God: 

    3 And there shall be no more curse: but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it; and his servants shall serve him: 4 And they shall see his face; and his name shall be in their foreheads. 5 And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light: and they shall reign for ever and ever (Re 22.3-5). 

    In this New Year, live with the end in mind. 

    Happy New Year. 

    Photo by Jeremy Perkins on Unsplash

    Filed Under: Culture, Theology Tagged With: holidays, New Year, providence

    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: 4 And 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.

    Photo by NeONBRAND on Unsplash

    Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: biblical theology, immanence, New Testament, Revelation

    Immanuel, Part 4: Turning the Page 

    December 16, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

    Part 1: Creation | Part 2: Covenant | Part 3: Marriage 

    Has God given up on his people? Has he divorced them with no hope of reconciliation? 

    In the account so far, we have reason to think otherwise. 

    At the dedication of the Temple, Solomon had prayed, 

    Now therefore arise, O Lord God, into thy resting place, thou, and the ark of thy strength: let thy priests, O Lord God, be clothed with salvation, and let thy saints rejoice in goodness (2Ch 6.41). 

    Solomon, who will be worshiping idols in his old age (1K 11.4-8), invites God to reside in the house he has built in Israel’s capital city. Will God refuse the invitation because of how he knows Israel will behave? 

    Perhaps surprisingly, no. 

    Now when Solomon had made an end of praying, the fire came down from heaven, and consumed the burnt offering and the sacrifices; and the glory of the Lord filled the house. 2 And the priests could not enter into the house of the Lord, because the glory of the Lord had filled the Lord’s house. 3 And when all the children of Israel saw how the fire came down, and the glory of the Lord upon the house, they bowed themselves with their faces to the ground upon the pavement, and worshipped, and praised the Lord, saying, For he is good; for his mercy endureth for ever (2Ch 7.1-3). 

    God wants to dwell in the midst of his people, in spite of everything. 

    Four centuries later, when some of the Babylonian exiles return to Jerusalem and rebuild the Temple, God promises to make this Second Temple, admittedly an inferior one (Hag 2.3), even greater than Solomon’s (Hag 2.4-9). 

    We’ll get to how he does that in a little bit. 

    And a prophet, Micah, in the midst of lambasting Israel for their sin, writes, 

    He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; 
    And what doth the Lord require of thee, 
    But to do justly, and to love mercy, 
    And to walk humbly with thy God? (Mic 6.8). 

    God wants, he really wants, to dwell with his people. 

    By his providence, the Protestant canon of the Old Testament ends with the word curse (Mal 4.6)—and it is a threat. 

    But as I noted last time, there’s a page to turn. 

    Let’s turn it now. 

    The book of the generation of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham (Mt 1.1). 

    That first chapter of Matthew demonstrates that Jesus is indeed the son of David (Mt 1.6) and of Abraham (Mt 1.2), and then it demonstrates even more: that this Jesus is the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy (Is 7.14) of one to be born of a virgin (Mt 1.18), one who would be “Immanuel” (Mt 1.23)—and Matthew kindly assists his Greek- and English-speaking readers by translating that Hebrew word: “which being interpreted is, God with us.” 

    God has been silent for 400 years, since Malachi’s “curse.” But now he speaks, and his words reverberate through the halls of history with an assurance: God still wants to dwell with his people. 

    He is so committed to this intimacy that he himself, in the person of God the Son, takes on human flesh and becomes one of us. 

    One of Jesus’ closest earthly disciples put it this way: 

    The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father) full of grace and truth (Jn 1.14). 

    He walks among us. 

    As a baby, he is presented to the Lord in the Temple—a renovated Temple, yes, but still the Temple that Haggai’s people had built. 

    He will teach and heal in that Temple, in Solomon’s porch, and he will clear the neighboring plaza of moneychangers and profiteers. 

    He experiences deprivation—hunger, thirst, sorrow, and physical, emotional, and spiritual pain. 

    He is in all points tempted just as we are, but without sin. 

    And one Friday afternoon, as he delivers his spirit to God from a cross, the veil of that Temple will be torn in two, from the top to the bottom, opening the way for all to see that the Holiest Place is empty of a physical Ark, but access to God is open as it had never been before. 

    God with us. 

    He lives here with us for 30 or 35 years, and then he ascends back to heaven and takes his seat at the Father’s right hand. 

    Is that it? Less than 4 decades? Or will he dwell with us forever? 

    Next time. 

    Part 5: Forever

    Photo by NeONBRAND on Unsplash

    Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: biblical theology, immanence

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