Theology – Page 2

Abraham, Part 4: Establishment

August 31, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Journey to Canaan | Part 3: Settlement

Once Abram had settled in the land of Canaan, the next step in God’s covenant with him was to establish him there–to make him a force to be reckoned with. Genesis 14 is where he does that.

The first part of the chapter (Ge 14.1-16) shows God establishing Abram as a military presence–though his family is not a country, has no army, and, so far as we know, has no combat experience. In the area of the Dead Sea were five Canaanite “cities of the plain”: Sodom, Gomorrah, Admah, Zeboiim, and Bela / Zoar (Ge 14.2). Four eastern kings established dominance over these cities (Ge 14.1), which almost certainly meant forcing them to pay tribute. The names of these kings are not known from secular historical records, but their regions are: Shinar is in northern Mesopotamia; Ellasar is in southern Mesopotamia; Elam is east of Mesopotamia, part of modern Iran; Goiim could be a place name or simply a reference to “Gentiles.” (Tidal is a Hittite name.)

After twelve years of paying tribute, the Canaanite cities refused to continue (Ge 14.4), and the eastern kings came looking to put a stop to their rebellion (Ge 14.5).

Apparently these kings planned a larger invasion, establishing control over the surrounding area and thus increasing their tribute revenue (Ge 14.5-7). As this invasion advanced, the five cities set out to repel it (Ge 14.8-9).

There are a lot of place names in these few verses. In summary, the eastern kings invaded through modern Jordan, crossed south of the Dead Sea, and then proceeded west, to Kadesh Barnea on the western side of the Sinai Peninsula (Ge 14.5-7). The “Valley of Siddim” is said to be full of tar pits (Ge 14.10). The south end of the Dead Sea covers a region with such tar; the Greeks and Romans later called the region “Asphaltites.”

As we might expect, the eastern kings overwhelmed the five “kings”–effectively mayors–of the cities of the plain and plundered their cities (Ge 14.10-11). In theory, Abram didn’t have a dog in this fight, so to speak, until they looted Sodom, where his nephew Lot was living (Ge 14.12).

Once Abram heard of this personal disaster (Ge 14.13), he was going to act. Almost certainly motivated by God’s gift of the land as well as by his family connection, Abram teamed up with regional “confederates” (Ge 14.13) as well as his 318 “trained servants” (Ge 14.14)–a number nowhere near enough to take on such an invading force under ordinary circumstances–and chased the invaders from the south end of Canaan (Kadesh Barnea) to the north end (Dan, which would have been called Laish [Judg 18.29] at the time)(Ge 14.14).

Now Abram had standing in the land; the neighboring regions were going to recognize his power and treat him with respect.

The second part of the chapter (Ge 14.17-24) gives us several more pieces of information to give further meaning to Abram’s victory.

We read that the king of Sodom, certainly out of gratitude for Abram’s help, met Abram “in the valley of Shaveh” (Ge 14.17). Nobody knows where this was, but since Melchizedek, “king of Salem [Jerusalem]” (Ge 14.18), was right there, it may be a valley near that city (the Kidron?).

This Melchizedek (“my king is righteous”) has considerable importance in the biblical record. He was a “priest of the Most High God.” (This is the first use of the name “El Elyon” in the Scripture.) Now, this man was clearly Canaanite, probably Jebusite. How did he become a priest of the true God? We’re not told. (There’s a theory, based on Hebrews 7.3, that he was the preincarnate Christ. I’m quite sure that he was not.)

But he was a true priest–of an order superior to Levi’s (He 7.4-11)–and he apparently introduced the patriarch to this new name for God and blessed him in the name of that God (Ge 14.19-20).

It was after that–providentially–that the king of Sodom offered Abram a hefty reward for his exploits (Ge 14.21). In light of his earlier oath, and probably in light of the much greater blessing bestowed by Melchizedek, Abram turned it down (Ge 14.22-24).

Abram had once taken money from Pharaoh. Now he was beyond that.

And he had assurance from God, by experience, confirmed by a priest, that his God would give him the land, by force if necessary. He knew, as do we, that it was not his military skill that had given him the victory.

Next time, a new stage, and a new focus: The Covenant.

Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash

Abraham, Part 3: Settlement

August 27, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Journey to Canaan

With Abraham’s journey to Canaan and visit to Egypt now complete, we enter the second section of this first stage of his story—settlement in Canaan. This is the focus of Genesis 13.

There’s been speculation and allegorization in interpreting this passage: was Abraham’s bringing of Lot a violation of God’s command to leave his family? Does Abram’s trip to Egypt prefigure Mary and Joseph’s flight to Egypt? Did Abram hire Hagar while they were there?

We’re going to ignore all that and stick with what the passage says—since that’s what God has revealed and thus what he wants us to know.

The chapter begins by noting that Abram is now wealthy (Ge 13.2). This is, as we noted last time, evidence that God’s covenant promise of blessing has already begun. It also sets up the next step, providing a reason why Abram thought that he and Lot should go their separate ways.

The second observation about his return to Canaan is that he returned to his former altar near Bethel and worshiped (Ge 13.3-4). Despite his foolishness in Egypt, he has not left his desire to worship and obey the God who called him out of Ur. He’s in a good position to start his time in “the Promised Land.”

We all understand that Lot is very much a foil for Abram. He shows no spiritual interest; rather than counting himself a “stranger and pilgrim on the earth” (He 11.13), he is focused on where the opportunities and consequent prosperity are. “Lot headed for the good life” (NET Bible). Before the story is over, he’s going to be sitting in the gate of Sodom (implying that he’s on the city council) with apparent disregard for the danger the city is going to be to his family. Every member of his family will evidence the consequences of that danger.

The hired herdsmen of both Abram and Lot were quarreling (Ge 13.7), almost certainly over access to water and food for the animals.

And so he suggests to Lot that they divide the land between them (Ge 13.8). This too is an act of faith; there are Canaanites all around (Ge 13.7), and Abram sees the land as his.

There are areas of the land that compare to the Garden of Eden (Ge 13.10)! Lot grabs that, while the gettin’s good. The steady water of the Jordan will provide him with all he needs.

But there is ironic foreboding here. The text anticipates that Sodom and Gomorrah will be destroyed by fire (Ge 13.10).

Abram accedes to Lot’s choice–again, perhaps because he figures that all the land will eventually belong to him anyway–thereby demonstrating a very different spirit from the fear that drove him in Egypt.

The chapter ends with God restating his covenant with Abram. It’s tempting to think that he did this because he was pleased with the spiritual development Abram has just displayed. But the text gives no indication of that. In his first presentation of the covenant (Ge 12.1-3), there is no indication that it is conditional, unless we read verse 1, Abram’s leaving Ur, as the condition. Even if we assume that, Abram’s having obeyed means that the condition has been met, and the covenant is now fully in effect.

In short, God repeats the covenant not because of how Abram is behaving, but because God keeps his promises.

God begins by telling Abram to “lift up your eyes” (Ge 13.14)–what Lot had done earlier (Ge 13.10), but without Abram’s faith. As far as Abram can see in every direction–and farther, as the land was divided by Joshua–the land would be his, including the east, which Lot had just acquired.

In this second statement God expands what he had said in chapter 12. The land promise is now “forever” (Ge 13.15). Instead of a “great nation” (Ge 12.2), now his descendants will be innumerable (Ge 13.16).

Abram now settles in the land. He locates at the “oak of Mamre,” which scholars believe is about 20 miles south or southwest of Jerusalem. The passage mentions Hebron, which may not have existed as a city in Abram’s day (it did exist when Moses was writing this account), but which is where Abraham’s grave is today.

Next time: Abram becomes a force to be reckoned with.

Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash

Abraham, Part 2: Journey to Canaan

August 24, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction

As we’ve noted, the first stage of Abraham’s life as recorded in Genesis is the Call from God to leave his homeland and travel to a new land: Canaan (Ge 12-14). The first chapter of this account consists of that initial call and Abram’s immediate journey.

This account comes immediately on the heels of the Tower of Babel, a deliberate defiance of God’s command to scatter and populate the earth. Abram’s immediate obedience is in stark contrast.

God’s call to Abram is clear: he is to leave his relatives and his homeland and go to an unspecified place “that I will show you” (Ge 12.1). His next words are prophecy, not command; they describe the fruits of obedience: Abram will have many descendants, who will be blessed, and who will bless the whole world (Ge 12.2-3). This promise will be repeated and expanded in upcoming chapters; we call it the Abrahamic Covenant, which promises a homeland, a posterity, and a universal blessing. Commentator Harold Willmington has characterized this as “soil, a seed, and a Saviour.” This is literally a global promise, the extent of which Abram could not possibly have fathomed.

This promise sets up the theme of the rest of Scripture. In contrast to the builders of Babel, Abram obeys, and God will set in place a plan to rescue mankind from its own rebellion, destroy Babylon (Re 14.8; 18.2), and restore Eden (Re 21.1-22.5).

Global, indeed.

I should note that Abram’s family has been introduced a paragraph earlier, at the end of chapter 11. There we learn two important things: that Sarai is barren, and that Abram’s father had already moved them from Ur, their home, to Haran, enroute to Canaan. This confusion is cleared up by the fact that the next paragraph is a flashback; the KJV and NKJV, as well as a footnote in the ESV, read the verb in verse 1 as perfect: “God had [earlier] said.” Thus the call comes in Ur, and the family members start toward Canaan. Their journey is punctuated by a stop partway, in Haran, on the Fertile Crescent.

The New Testament says that when he left Ur, he went “not knowing whither he went” (He 11.8). The Lord led them along, first to Haran for a time, and then eventually to Canaan. This was a journey of faith.

If we look closely at the numbers, we note that Abram’s father, Terah, was 70 when Abram was born (Ge 11.26) and that he died when he was 205–when Abram would have been 135. But the account says that Abram left Haran for Canaan when he was 75 (Ge 12.4)–so he must have left 60 years before his father died. Did Terah refuse to go along? Why? We don’t know. But Abram is following the Lord’s leadership, not his father’s. He needs to go.

So he gathers his closest family–his wife, and his nephew Lot (Ge 12.5)–as well as his servants and his growing possessions. (The blessing has apparently already started.) And he heads for Canaan. When he arrives, he surveys the land, arriving at Shechem (Ge 12.6), where the Lord again promises him both the land and a progeny to dwell in it (Ge 12.7). He proceeds southward to the area of Bethel (actually given that name by his grandson Jacob years later; the author of this account, Moses, is writing from a later perspective, when his readers would be used to calling the place by its later name) (Ge 12.8). In both of these places he builds altars, worshiping the Lord who is guiding him, and likely indicating his faith in the promises by “planting his flag,” so to speak.

Famine arrives (Ge 12.10). In such times, looking to Egypt, with its reliable water source in the Nile, was common. God later told Isaac not to go to Egypt (Ge 26.2); yet Jacob took his family to Egypt at Joseph’s insistence and with God’s apparent blessing (Ge 45.16ff).

Should Abram have left the land where he had built the altars, or not?

In any case, we all know the story of Abram’s fear of Pharaoh and his nonsensical lie about his beautiful wife, thereby putting her at risk of joining Pharaoh’s harem. He does not appear to be acting in faith any longer.

But God protects him–blesses him–keeping his promises despite Abram’s apparent lack of faith.

God is like that.

Next time: back to Canaan, and settlement.

Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash

Abraham, Part 1: Introduction

August 20, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

I’d like to spend the next few posts–maybe 10 or 12–on a theological look at the life of Abraham as recounted in Genesis 12-25. As we’ll see, he’s a foundational character in Scripture, and there’s a lot to learn from him–about history, about philosophy of life, about making and recovering from mistakes, and most of all about God.

I’ve begun by saying he’s a foundational character. Let’s demonstrate that.

He is, of course, an Old Testament character, whose entire life narrative is in the first book of the Bible; but as a measure of his long-term significance, I’d like to survey what the New Testament says about him.

He’s mentioned in all four Gospels, Acts, Paul, Peter, James, and Hebrews.

He’s identified as the start of God’s covenant with Israel (Lk 1.55; He 6.13-15); first-century Jews are called “sons” or “daughters’ of Abraham (Lk 13.16; 19.9; Ac 13.26; Ro 11.1; 2Co 11.22; He 2.16). He permeates Stephen’s sermonic history of the nation (Ac 7.2, 8, 16, 32). He is called the father of Israel’s great hope, the Messiah (Mt 1.1-2, 17; Lk 3.34), and he is said to point to that same Messiah; Jesus states that directly (Jn 8.52-58), and Peter emphasizes it as he introduces the New Covenant at Pentecost (Ac 3.13-25). He represents the Levitical priesthood, which of course is descended from his great-grandson, and which Christ, as a priest after the order of Melchizedek, supersedes (He 7.1-9).

His relationship with God is exemplary for all believers; he comes to God by faith, not works (Ro 4.1-16; Ga 3.6-18; He 11.8-17; Jam 2.21-23), thereby rendering physical descent relatively unimportant (Mt 3.9; Lk 3.8; Jn 8.33-40; Ro 9.7; Ga 4.22). Consequently, he represents all who come to God (Mt 8.11; Lk 13.28; Lk 16.23-30).

We can organize Abraham’s life into several stages. When we meet him, he is a Mesopotamian, apparently an idol worshiper (Jos 24.15), whom God calls to “a land that I will show you” (Gen 12.1). We might call this stage The Call (Ge 12-14).

The lengthiest stage begins with a divine covenant (ch 15), which Abram (as he’s called at the time) misguidedly tries to assist by having a son through his wife’s servant (ch 16). After a formal initiation through circumcision (ch 17), the covenant is fulfilled in the birth and preservation of Isaac (ch 18-22). We’ll call this stage, obviously, The Covenant.

Finally, there’s a denouement: he acquires a burial place (ch 23), acquires a wife for Isaac in Rebekah (ch 24), and sees his family tree greatly expanded (ch 25). All of this assures us that God’s covenant promises for him will be fulfilled.

He will show us a typical man, a sinner, inclined to fail despite his many strengths and advantages. But in the end he is characterized by a single simple trait: faith.

He believed. As can we, as human and messy as we are.

Next time: Call and Response.

Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash

On Life on Other Planets

June 18, 2026 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Lots of ET talk these days.

SpaceX thinks they’re going to Mars, and their recent IPO is, um, out of this world. The US government has been releasing, a few at a time, records of UAPs (unidentified aerial phenomena, formerly called unidentified flying objects, or UFOs). Part of the cachet around that subject is that despite the formal meaning of the acronym “UFO,” in the popular imagination the term means “flying saucer,” so when a government spokesman speaks casually about a UFO, some people think he just said there are flying saucers, and awaaaaay we go.

And now Stephen Spielberg has released the movie “Disclosure Day,” which he says is going to shake the faith of some religious people.

No need for that to happen. The shaking, not the movie.

Proof of life on other planets I would find highly interesting but not at all troubling. Here’s why.

The Bible says nothing about life on other planets, despite John 10.16 (Jesus is talking about Gentiles) or the fevered imaginings of Joseph Smith or L. Ron Hubbard. Of course, humans are not the only intelligent created beings; there are various classes of angels, both good and bad, and have been, apparently, since before Adam arrived on earth.

But as to other forms of life elsewhere in the universe, I think it’s pretty obvious that the God who made this planet and all the forms of life it contains could have created any number of other planets and populated them as well.

Interesting theological questions show up when we start to speculate on the possibilities.

Could planets be populated with just plants, or animals, or both? Sure. Of course, the way that works here there are symbiotic dependencies, so if there’s a planet with just plants, there would need to be some mechanism for pollination and related matters. And if there were just animals and no plants, I assume they’d all have to be carnivorous. But I see no biblical or theological problems with the idea.

What about human life? Well, a whole bunch of questions follow in rapid succession:

Are these beings in the image of God? They don’t have to be, of course; angels and demons are not said to be in the image of God, and God could certainly create a human-like race without imbuing it with his image.

If they are in God’s image, are they fallen? They need not be; Adam and Eve weren’t fallen initially, and of course God can create humans who would not fall. Kinda wish he’d done that here. :-)

If they are fallen, are they redeemed? God has chosen not to redeem the fallen angels, but it appears that the presence of his image in humans has been a significant factor in his redeeming work for us. The God who is loving and merciful here on earth is loving and merciful on every other planet in the universe, and it would seem uncharacteristic of him to leave creatures in his image in an irredeemable state.

And this brings us to the million-dollar question: if they are redeemed, how? Is the vicarious death of the Son the only means by which God might redeem his image anywhere in the universe? And if so, would God repeat that redemptive act on another planet, or would he simply reveal to that race the good news of Christ’s once-for-all sacrifice without their having witnessed it, as he has done for the great majority of the redeemed here on earth?

Whew. That’s a lot of questions. And no answers–because we could determine the answers only by authoritative revelation, and we simply don’t have any.

But this is an opportunity for us to remind ourselves of a few indisputable truths:

God can do anything that is not contrary to his nature.
He will act in ways that are perfectly consistent with his nature, in any times and places.
He has done much that he has not revealed to us (Dt 29.29), which means that we don’t know the half of it.
We must not put limits on God that he does not place on himself. I’ve been told that Bob Jones Sr., the founder of Bob Jones University, believed that humans would never land on the moon, because God told Adam and Eve to take dominion over the earth, not the heavens. Well, he was mistaken, and the Lord kindly took him home a year and a half before he would have found out.

When the time comes, we’ll find out that God was doing all sorts of things far beyond our imaginations. If, in the meantime, we meet life forms from other planets, that’ll be great. We’ll need to ask them how they solved the distance / speed problem. Ion engines? Wormholes? Warp speed? We’re all eager to find out.

Photo by Haziq Mehboob on Unsplash

On Hope in Loss, Part 2: Why

May 28, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1

What’s the “better way” to face the grief of relationships broken by death?

Unlike the weak and wishful platitudes offered at funerals by those “who have no hope,” believers handle their grief differently—because, as we often say at these times, we will see them again.

I’d like to take this post to note the source of this hope, something I have done explicitly only one other time, I think, since this blog began almost eight years ago. Time to correct that underemphasis.

The source of this hope is the gospel.

The God who is eternally love (1J 4.7-8) has made us in his image (Ge 1.26-27) and therefore love-oriented as well (1J 4.11). He has designed us to be loved by him, and to love him, even as we love others through close relationships.

But there’s a problem.

We humans—all of us, since the beginning of time—have resisted God’s love by disobeying his will (Ro 3.23). And that resistance, called sin, has prevented that close, intimate, loving relationship with God for which he designed us. We have replaced this highly privileged relationship with love for ourselves and love for our sin (Ps 14.1-3).

But there’s good news.

God still loves us (Jn 3.16), though he is repelled by our sin (Is 59.2). He lovingly offers us a solution to the problem that we started: forgiveness, no matter how deep or wide or intense or violent or disgusting our sin may be. No one is beyond the reach of this loving forgiveness.

How can he do this? Because he has initiated and then taken action to neutralize our sin problem. He won’t just ignore it; that would be unjust, and he is perfectly just. Instead he addresses it directly.

Remember that eternal, loving relationship within the Godhead? Those persons agree on a just way to neutralize our sin. The Son chooses to pay the judicial penalty for it. Now, the penalty is death, and God cannot die; so the Son agrees to become human—to be incarnated—and then to die in our place (He 2.14). And those who repent of their sin and accept, by faith, that substitute payment (or “vicarious atonement”) will have their sins erased, and the barrier to an intimate relationship with God is removed (Ro 10.9-11).

Only those who believe? What about the others?

Well, what do we think about someone who forces a relationship on us? We call him a stalker, or simply one who doesn’t respect our boundaries. A forced relationship is not a genuine relationship at all.

The relationship is freely offered, but not unwilling. It’s bilateral, in the sense that it is not forced.

The gospel continues. The relationship grows and matures over time, and even death doesn’t end it; in fact, death expands it infinitely and eternally (2Co 5.1-10).

That’s Good News. Gospel.

“Come, weary one, leave thy labor; Come, lift thy head, see thy Saviour and Friend; His arms are open wide, Your soul is satisfied; Come find his rest.”

Photo by Hari Perisetla on Unsplash

On Hope in Loss

May 25, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

I suppose you’ve noticed that death seems to come in clusters—whether the deaths of celebrities or of people you know. My wife and I have noticed that we’ve been attending a lot of funerals lately, and while none of them have been for family members, we have seen people we know and love grieve for their personal loss.

If it’s a believer who has died, the service often includes reference to 1 Thessalonians 4.13, where Paul exhorts his readers to “sorrow not, even as others which have no hope.” The officiant will often observe that we do sorrow, but not in the way that those without hope do.

The rest of Paul’s paragraph makes it clear that the “hope” to which he refers is the resurrection, which for the believer will involve eternal life in a glorified body.

But, whether believer or not, we still grieve.

Why?

I think it’s because we are relational people; we’re designed to have healthy relationships with others. That began when God designed marriage—”It is not good that the man should be alone” (Ge 2.18)—but it extends to broader relationships as well: children, extended family, friends, colleagues. Many of us are introverts, but we still value trusted friendships.

And the reason for this devotion is at our core, because we are in the image of God (Ge 1.26-27).

God is relational, and he has always been that way. Before there were humans, and even before there were angels—before there was anything but God—there was relationship. The Bible tells us that God is love; and since he does not change, he has always been love. But love requires relationship. With whom would God have a relationship, if he hadn’t created anything yet? His relationship must have been with another eternal being. And the Scripture teaches that there were two other eternal Persons in those days (if “days” makes any sense in that context). There was the Son, and there was the Spirit. And the three of them—one essence, but three persons—were in a perfect, eternal relationship of love—and of every other attribute: truth, justice, goodness, power, wisdom, and so forth.*

And so we, in the image of God, find it unnatural when a relationship is broken. We know instinctively that this is not the way we were designed. This is not the way it’s supposed to be. And so we all, even Christians, grieve. That is a proper response to the breaking, even the temporary breaking, of a relationship.

But Paul says that our grief is not like the grief of others; it is qualitatively different from that of those “who have no hope.” The resurrection changes our perspective dramatically.

Those without this hope bring comfort to themselves with thoughts that believers find unfulfilling:

“He will live forever in our hearts.” Well, our hearts are temporary too, and when we die, we will stop thinking about him. So no, he won’t live forever, even in that way.

“He has joined the universal soul.” Well, there’s no evidence of that, and what is the “universal soul,” anyway? How is that any meaningful sort of existence, or relationship to us?

Related to the previous platitude is a poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye:

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

Forgive my bluntness, but this is just wishful thinking. No, he’s not any of these things. And no, the white peacock who showed up at Paul’s house during the recording session was not the late John. And no, these thoughts do not serve as any realistic or meaningful basis for not grieving.

There’s a better way.

Next time.

* This logic was used by a Scottish theologian of the Middle Ages, Richard of St. Victor, to argue for the deity of Christ in his “On the Trinity.”

Photo by Hari Perisetla on Unsplash

Why Creation Matters, Part 24: Summary

May 21, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

This has been a long series. As I noted at its beginning, that’s pretty much the whole point: God bases a broad range of deductions and applications on the fact that he is the Creator.

It’s traditional in biblical theologies to note the development of various emphases as the Scripture proceeds chronologically. I do think we see some of that in the treatment of Creation Theology.

The Torah emphasizes the basic idea of the image of God. That sets the foundation for the relationship between God and man, the overarching theme and purpose of the Scripture.
The Prophets emphasize that the Creation demonstrates the power of God: power to deliver in the Former Prophets, and power to rule and to bring judgment or blessing in the Latter. I find it interesting that The Twelve highlight all three of those themes: Amos sees Creation as demonstrating God’s power to rule; Jonah, to judge; and Zechariah, to bless.
The Writings continue this theme of power for judgment and blessing, but their special emphasis is on the Creator’s praiseworthiness: Creation demonstrates his goodness, his greatness, his glory, his faithfulness, and his wisdom.
The emphasis of the Old Testament, then, appears to be on deriving from Creation the characteristics, the attributes of God, and responding with praise. The New Testament, it seems to me, takes a different tack.
The Gospels present Creation as a pattern for marriage, which is the basic unit of social order. John also presents the Son as the Creator, reflecting the NT introduction of the Trinity.
As it narrates the introduction of Christianity across the Roman Empire, Acts contrasts the Creator with false gods, who are incapable of creating anything.
Paul continues the focus on human behavior on the basis of Creation. He notes the foolishness of suppressing the facts of Creation; the role of God as Sovereign; the seriousness of proper worship; and the transitoriness of the current world as opposed to the world to come.
Hebrews continues the theme of transitoriness from Paul and the role of the Son in Creation from John and Paul. It also emphasizes the importance of believing that the worlds were created by the Word of God.
Peter expands on Paul’s criticism of those who suppress the truth of Creation.
And Revelation repeats the fact that Jesus is the Creator, and that this Creator is authoritative and thus to be worshiped. It then climaxes the Scripture by revealing a New Creation, freed from all the defects introduced to the Old by human sin.
So while the OT emphasizes the attributes of God as displayed in Creation, the NT seems to focus more on how we should respond to such a Creator.

So what do we have?

Recognizing the fact of the Creation—and the Creator—gives us worth as images of God and objects of his care.
Recognizing the power of the Creator gives us peace about the course of history and confidence in God’s plan and his ability to judge and bless with justice.
Recognizing the glory of the Creator lifts our eyes above the evils and cares of this world to focus on something infinitely greater than ourselves.
Recognizing the significance of Creation gives us wisdom in living out our roles as images and servants of God.
And anticipating the New Creation gives us a certain expectation—a hope, in the biblical sense—that there will be restoration and justice, and for all eternity.

Now it’s time for the other guys’ turn.

What does believing in evolution do for you?

I’ll wait.

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Why Creation Matters, Part 23: Proverbs

May 18, 2026 by Dan Olinger 2 Comments

The theme of the Book of Proverbs is wisdom. We should expect, then, that if and when the author—mostly Solomon—speaks of creation, he would do so to reinforce his theme of wisdom. And indeed he does.

¹⁹The Lord by wisdom hath founded the earth; By understanding hath he established the heavens. ²⁰By his knowledge the depths are broken up, And the clouds drop down the dew (Prov 3).

Early in the collection he makes his primary point: the One who created the universe did so by his wisdom, which includes, as we’ve noted earlier, intelligence, or the ability to think; knowledge, or facts to process intelligently; and practical application of that knowledge to useful ends.

How does he know that? Well, it’s obvious: the cosmos clearly demonstrates the wisdom of whoever made it. The intradependence, and interdependence, of biomes, including symbiotic relationships, makes his wisdom obvious.

And by the way—in a symbiotic relationship, which organism evolved first? The flagellate, or the termite? The bee, or the flower? The whale, or the barnacle? Think on these things.

I suspect that’s why, after nearly a century of unanimous indoctrination about random evolution in public schools, the majority still don’t believe it. They believe that their eyes are in fact not lyin’.

A few chapters later Solomon expands on this theme. In chapter 8 he develops at some length a personification of wisdom. In the middle of that development he speaks of wisdom as present even before God created the cosmos (Pro 8.22-26) and as he did so (Pro 8.27-29), and then rejoicing over the completed project (Pro 8.30-31).

Throughout the passage he cites evidences of wisdom in both the planning and the execution:

Seas and springs (Pro 8.24);

Mountains and hills (Pro 8.25);

Dirt and dust (Pro 8.26);

Sky and sea (Pro 8.27);

Clouds and currents (Pro 8.28); and

Stability of both sea and land (Pro 8.29).

The Creator has done all things wisely and well.

I suppose this evidence of wisdom is the greatest obstacle to denying Creation. Wisdom speaks of intelligent design, and evidences of that design all around us speak to us in ways that we suppress only with effort—with dogged insistence (Ro 1.20).

Sometimes you just have to acknowledge the obvious.

Next time, a wrap-up.

Part 24: Summary

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Why Creation Matters, Part 22: Psalms 6

May 14, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Psalm 104 is the lengthiest discussion of Creation outside Genesis. But while the Genesis account is historical narrative, the Psalm is a poetic celebration.

The Psalmist begins with his application: we should bless the Lord. (Starting a speech with your conclusion, before presenting any argument or development, is called “inductive” speaking. It can make for a very powerful presentation.) He’ll support his contention throughout the psalm, but he puts the conclusion right up front. Worship, glorification, is serious business.

And why should we bless the Lord?

Because he is great. And not just great, but “very” great. Exceedingly. Mightily. Great with muchness.

This is not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill greatness. This is greatness that makes all the other greatnesses of time and space look relatively insignificant; specifically, he is “clothed with honor and majesty.”

Clothed. And for God, these are not dress-up clothes, dressed to impress at some social event by appearing more together than he actually is. Glory and honor are his everyday clothes; they are a natural expression of who he is and what he’s about.

And how do we know that? Well, we look at what he has done. And so follows a poetic celebration of the creation of the cosmos.

He manipulates light (Ps 104.2). We’re just surrounded by light, and we do the best we can to minimize its effects, when we need to, with parasols and SPF. But He spoke it into existence, and it does his bidding.
He has created the atmospheric forces (Ps 104.3)—and while he’s at it, the other “winds”—spirits—as well (Ps 104.4). (You may recall that “wind,” “breath” and “spirit” are all the same word in Hebrew.) They all do his bidding, even though to us they’re invisible.
He has created the solid ground (Ps 104.5)—which is so solid that Jesus later compared “impossible” prayer requests to moving mountains (Mt 21.21).
He has created the seas and told them where they may go (Ps 104.6-9; cf Job 38.8-11).
Speaking of water, he has created springs, which refresh animals (Ps 104.10-12) and rain, which nourishes the plants (Ps 104.13-16).
He provides shelter for wild animals (Ps 104.17-18).
He has created heavenly lights that guide creatures as to both time and place (Ps 104.19-23).

And here the Psalmist pauses for an outburst of praise (Ps 104.24). The variety of works that he has just enumerated demonstrate that God is not only very great; they show as well that he is both wise and generous. He’s good and kind.

And then he returns to his list for one more observation.

God has created sea creatures (Ps 104.25-30) and graciously provides for their sustenance—and determines when they die.

Wow.

What is the appropriate response to all this?

Creation declares the glory, power, and wisdom of the Creator (Ps 104.31-32).

And so, I will praise him while I have breath (Ps 104.33). And that meditation on his works and praise for them will bring joy and gladness to my heart (Ps 104.34).

Why? Because that’s what I was made to do (1Co 10.31).

You can choose a different path, if you want. But if you ignore your source and purpose, you will not prosper (Ps 104.35)—just as you can’t expect to ignore the oil warning light in your car and then gripe when the engine freezes up on you.

The Psalmist concludes with his opening—“bless the Lord”—making the psalm an extended inclusio (Ps 104.35).

Hallelujah! (Ps 104.35).

Do you see how much we miss when we dismiss the biblical narrative of Creation, either by denying it or by failing to meditate on it?

We miss the aesthetic; we miss the joy; and consequently, we miss our very purpose for living.

Next time we’ll consider what the book of Proverbs contributes to Creation Theology, and then one more post, Lord willing, will tie it all up.

Part 23: Proverbs | Part 24: Summary

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash