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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Created. Now What? Part 1: Anticipating the Image of God

October 16, 2017 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Once you’ve settled on the fact that God is the Creator, the world never looks the same. A number of ideas immediately become obvious. I’d like to meditate on two of them for the next few posts.

One of the most obvious is that you and I are special.

I don’t mean that in the fawning sense, the way moms tell their children that they’re special. I mean it in the most life-changing way possible.

The creation account makes it obvious.

During the 6 days of active creation, God spends most of the time, metaphorically speaking, sitting in his chair and issuing orders. As I’ve noted before, sometimes he just speaks and items spring into existence: he says, “Let there be light” (Gen 1.3), and there is; he says, “Let there be an expanse” (Gen 1.6), and there is; he says, “Let there be lights in the heavens” (Gen 1.14), and the sun, moon, and stars come into being; he speaks (Gen 1.20), and fish swim in the seas, and birds fly through the atmosphere. Sometimes, when he speaks, he’s acting on things he has already created: he orders the waters to gather so that dry land becomes visible (Gen 1.9), and he causes plants (Gen 1.11) and then animals (Gen 1.24) to spring from the ground.

Through all of this activity (again, metaphorically speaking), God has never left his chair; he has spoken, and his will has been done. But now the story changes dramatically.

To begin with, God speaks, not to command his creation, but in meditation with himself. He says not, “Let there be man,” but “Let us make man” (Gen 1.26). He counsels with himself on what he is about to do.

In the hindsight of the New Testament, Christians see the Trinity here: the persons of the Godhead, perfectly one, speak among themselves, with the Father as administrator and visionary, the Son as active agent, and the Spirit as nurturer and protector. I don’t doubt that all that is true, but the picture here in Genesis, at the outset of God’s self-revelation, is murkier. God is speaking to himself, and he’s using the plural. Is this a majestic king planning his next action, or is it a consultation between or among infinitely exalted equals?

Well, neither, exactly. This is complicated by the fact that God doesn’t think of things, or through things, in the sense that we do. Sovereign and omniscient, he never hatches a plan or finds a solution. So why is he talking to himself, appearing to think through what he’s about to do?

It seems pretty clear what he’s doing. He’s pausing to relish what’s coming. This is not just another step in the long process of creating stuff. This next step is different in kind from what has happened so far; God is about to do something really extraordinary (as if speaking the cosmos into existence in an instant [Gen 1.16] isn’t extraordinary enough!).

In what way is this next step extraordinary? His joyous words tell us plainly: “Let us make someone like us! In our image! Exponentially greater than everything else!” (Gen 1.26a, paraphrased with abandon). May I say reverently, it’s as though he says, “You think that’s impressive? Just watch this!”

And then, metaphorically speaking, he rises, majestically and purposefully, from his chair. No pointing and giving orders now; he’s going to get involved. He’s going to roll up his sleeves and plunge into his creative work clear up to his elbows. Foreshadowing the coming incarnation, he’s going to step right into the middle of his creation.

In the next post we’ll consider what that means.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Photo by David Marcu on Unsplash

Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: creation, Trinity

How Atheistic Educators Teach Theology in Spite of Themselves 

September 7, 2017 by Dan Olinger 3 Comments

Photo by NASA on Unsplash

Every day in every school, millions of schoolchildren are learning about God. In every subject. 

Don’t think so? 

Watch. 

If there were no Bibles, we’d know a lot about God. For starters, we could just look around. If God created the world—and he did—then it’s a piece of art. And art tells us a lot about the artist. Just a glance at Picasso’s work tells us that he distorted the female form. Hmmm. I wonder if he had issues with women. Turns out he did. 

So when we study the cosmos, the created universe, we’re studying the work of God—and we’re consequently studying him. In school we call that science. And for some reason we’ve gotten the idea that science and religion are in conflict. 

Nope. It’s all about him. 

What can be known about God is plain to [mankind], because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse (Rom 1.19-20). 

But there’s more. When God created the universe, he used a design language—a coding language, if you will. There are relationships between the parts of the universe. In school we call that language math.  

Philosophy is written in this grand book, the universe, which stands continually open to our gaze. But the book cannot be understood unless one first learns to comprehend the language and read the letters in which it is composed. It is written in the language of mathematics, and its characters are triangles, circles, and other geometric figures (Galileo). 

I would suggest that math is the most intimate look we get at the mind of God outside the Bible. It’s theology writ large. And we didn’t invent it; God did. He was counting before there were any humans around (Gen 1.5). 

Even more. When God created humans, he made them, as Scripture puts it, “in his image” (Gen 1.26-27). That means that when we study mankind—when we study the humanities—we’re studying God too. Language. Literature. The fine arts—music, speech, art. It all reflects the creative impulses of mankind, and in so doing it reflects the creative God who created us. It’s theology. 

And the sourcing doesn’t end with creation. Theologians call creation God’s first work, but they recognize another one as well. Since day 1, God has been directing in the affairs of men, telling a story that he has written from eternity past. 

He made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place (Acts 17.26). 

He changes times and seasons; he removes kings and sets up kings (Dan 2.21). 

And what do we call that in school? 

Theologians call it providence, or more specifically, government. Schoolteachers call it history. 

Every school subject is about God. Science, math, language, literature, fine arts, history. All of it. 

And no surprise, because it all comes from him. 

It’s a shame more schools don’t recognize that. And it’s ironic—downright comical—that thousands of educators are teaching about the God they deny without even realizing it. 

He who sits in the heavens laughs. 

And I like to chuckle right along with him. 

Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: apologetics, general revelation, liberal arts

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