Part 1 

I’ve given one example of an OT prophet who didn’t understand the message he was given to deliver, and I’ve suggested a couple more possible examples. I don’t know whether you noticed or not, but none of those examples involved a prophet who was puzzled over the specific idea that Peter says puzzled multiple OT prophets. 

And what’s that? It was a twofold question: “searching what, or what manner of time” (1P 1.11)—that is, what’s going to happen, and when is it going to happen? And the “it,” in this case, is a very specific event: 

• The Christ (Messiah, “Anointed One”) will suffer, 

• And then he will reign in glory. 

How can that happen? 

I suspect that their understanding was clouded by a related issue. It appears to me that the Jews—both before and during Jesus’ day—were expecting four different “coming ones”: 

• The prophet like Moses (Dt 18.15); 

• David’s eternally reigning Son, the Messiah (2Sa 7.16); 

• The Servant of the Lord (Is 42, 49, 50, 52, 53); 

• And Elijah (Mal 4.5-6). 

They didn’t seem to understand that three of these four are the same person, as evidenced by the people’s questions of John the Baptist (Jn 1.20-21). 

The prophecies are very clear that the Servant of the Lord will suffer (esp. Is 52.13-53.12) and that David’s greater son will rule forever (2Sa 7.16). But those two are the same person, and apparently the prophets themselves didn’t understand that. 

• This coming one would be despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief (Is 53.3);  

• He will bear our griefs, and carry our sorrows (4); 

• He will be wounded for our transgressions, bruised for our iniquities—and with his stripes we will be healed (5); 

• The Lord will lay on him the iniquity of us all (6); 

• He will be brought as a lamb to the slaughter (7);  

• He will be cut off out of the land of the living, for the transgressions of Isaiah’s people (8).  

• And yes, he will make his grave with both the wicked and the rich (9); 

• The Lord will make his soul an offering for sin (10); 

• He will pour out his soul unto death, and make intercession for the transgressors, and bear the sin of many. 

And then, and only then, he will see his seed, and prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord will prosper in his hand. 

Why Peter Says It 

Now. 

Why does Peter bring this up? What’s his point, in this context? What does this have to do with our suffering? 

I can’t read Peter’s mind, but let me hazard a suggestion. 

Peter’s writing about the confident hope we have in suffering. But how can we have a confident hope when we just don’t understand why stuff happens to us the way that it does?  

First, we have the example of the prophets, who didn’t understand—for the rest of their lives—and they believed anyway.  

• Doesn’t it make sense that an infinite, ineffable God would occasionally do some things that are beyond our intellectual reach? What kind of a God would it be who did only things that our finite minds can understand?  

• Doesn’t our confidence increase when we realize that our failure to understand isn’t evidence that anything is wrong with God’s plan?  

Further, we have the historical example. Unlike the prophets, we have the benefit of hindsight: we have seen their prophecies fulfilled, even though they sometimes didn’t have the foggiest notion of what they were talking about. We know how the Servant could make his grave with both the wicked and the rich.  

What about those prophecies yet unfulfilled—the ones we still don’t understand?  

Do you think this God will fulfill those promises too?  

I do.  

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Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Wisdom 

We turn now to the second of James’s three big ideas. In multiple chapters he warns against improper use of the tongue. He begins chapter 3 with a paragraph or two of stark words, demonstrating the tongue’s outsized significance in human relations. 

To begin with, he says, if you can control your tongue, you can control any other part of your body; disciplined speech is a mark of maturity (Jam 3.2). For “control,” he uses the word “bridle”—and that clearly calls to his mind a whole list of analogies. A tiny bit in a massive horse’s mouth will redirect him (Jam 3.3). Similarly, a relatively small rudder will turn a large ship in whatever direction the captain wishes (Jam 3.4). 

Years ago I had an opportunity to spend a Saturday sailing an iceboat on a frozen Lake Cochichuate in Massachusetts. Sailing across the wind, with the single triangular sail pulled in tight, you can go much faster than the wind is blowing—in fact, 50 or 60 mph. It was delightful. 

But the rudder. There’s the rub. The little single-passenger boat didn’t weigh very much, and the rudder couldn’t get much of a purchase on the surface of the ice. I was all over that lake. In liquid water, however, it’s different. There, the rudder will turn the whole ship—perhaps not fast, but surely. 

In both of these instances—the bit and the rudder—a tiny thing has an outsized effect. And the tongue is such a thing. A few words can change a life, for better or for worse. 

James turns to a different metaphor. Fire, he says, can start small but wreak widespread devastation (Jam 3.5-6). Many people don’t know about the largely abandoned town of Centralia, PA, where a fire has been burning for decades in a coal seam beneath the ground. The surface is warm, or even hot, to the touch, and all the real estate is worthless. “How great a matter a little fire kindleth!” (Jam 3.5). 

James climaxes his presentation with the last metaphor: poison (Jam 3.8). Just 15 milligrams (half a thousandth of an ounce) of strychnine, I’m told, can kill you in as little as 5 minutes. More recently, the US has become aware that just 2 milligrams of fentanyl is fatal. 

And the tongue, James says, is like that. 

Yikes. 

And yet, James has already told us two chapters earlier that someone who cannot control his tongue has “vain” religion. His profession is empty, vapid, worthless. 

A few verses further down in our passage James asserts that mankind has tamed all the fauna there are (Jam 3.7)—to varying degrees, of course. Even a lion is held at bay with a relatively small whip. But the tongue, he says, is beyond taming (Jam 3.8). 

So what can we do? Are we hopeless? Is genuine faith, manifesting itself in constructive speech, forever out of reach? 

Certainly not. Again, back in chapter 1 James has already laid out the solution. It is God’s word—the fruit of his tongue, if you will—that “begat” us, or gave us spiritual life. It is the “engrafted” word—that which he has implanted within us—that saves our souls (Jam 1.21). And consequently, as hearers who are alive spiritually, we can respond to that word by obeying it (Jam 1.22-25). 

So how do we prevent ourselves, and those with whom we interact, from being poisoned by our undisciplined tongues? 

We consume the Scripture, in the largest quantities for which we have capacity. We determine what those ancient words require of us in our very different time and place. And we put them into practice. 

The Scripture, we know, is a means of grace. It is in itself the source of our power to obey it. It’s time for us to read, listen, and watch God work. 

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I’m at the age where more and more of my friends are dying. I’m approaching threescore and ten, and a lot of people start really paying attention to the subject of death around that time. A friend of mine gives talks at churches about how to prepare for death—getting all the paperwork in order, writing important things down, all of that. I’ve done that for my wife, on the assumption that I’ll go first. (If she goes first, I won’t be able to find anything without just randomly opening doors and drawers.) 

There’s something to be said for good stewardship, for thoughtful preparation for the inevitable, and I’ve tried to do that. 

But I don’t obsess about death, and I certainly don’t fear it. 

It’s normal to not want to go through a painful dying process, and there are certainly possibilities in aging that are not pleasant. My Dad went through dementia for the last 6 years of his life, during which I was his primary caregiver, and I know the frustration he felt with his limitations, and especially with recognizing those limitations and being unable to do anything about them. At one point during that time I asked God to allow me to get hit by a truck the day before my mind goes, and I still nourish that thought. 

But fear death? Obsess? No siree. 

There are lots of reasons not to. 

First, death is a deliverance. All our lives we’ve been frustrated by our limitations, physical and mental, even though we can experience great joy and fulfillment from life in this world. We get used to the fact that we can’t do everything we want to, and just as a fish probably isn’t aware of the water he swims in, we get used to living in this mortal coil. 

But this is not what we’re designed for. We’re Ferraris driving on crowded city streets, and we long to be delivered from the constraints, the frustrations, the inefficiencies, the misunderstandings of life here (Ro 8.21-23). 

Death puts a stop to all that nonsense. 

I’m looking forward to that. 

Second, death is more than just leaving the old behind; it’s being ushered into a new kind of existence—most especially, personal and visible presence with Christ himself (2Co 5.6-8). The Scripture doesn’t give any detailed description of what that will be like, but it promises that that state will be far superior to this one. I believe what it says. 

Now, it’s true that we will apparently be reunited with loved ones who have gone on before, but the Scripture doesn’t pay much attention to that. To listen to some old hymns, you’d think that a family reunion is the most important part of heaven. “Will the circle be unbroken,” and all that. “I’m just a poor, wayfaring stranger … I’m going there to see my mother.” “I will meet you in the morning, just inside the eastern gate.” 

Sure, I’m looking forward to seeing Mom again; she may be mildly surprised to see me there at all. But family reunion is a byproduct, not the point of it all. To be with Christ, to meet face to face, to serve without failure or frustration—that’s going to be really something. 

Third, death is better, but still anticipatory. What do I mean by that? 

Scripture speaks, but only briefly, of what we call “the intermediate state,” the time between our death and our resurrection (2Co 5.1-10). Paul confirms that we will put off our current bodies and await our resurrection bodies. In the meantime, he says, we’ll be “unclothed” (2Co 5.4)—and, he implies, that’ll be just a little strange; we’re not designed to be unembodied. He’s very clear that we’ll be better off than we are now (2Co 5.8), but—and I love this—we will be looking forward to something even better yet to come. Anticipation is a powerfully good thing, and I’m delighted that God has designed our death to improve our state but also to leave room for further improvement to be joyfully anticipated. 

And that is why “we sorrow not as others, who have no hope” (1Th 4.13). 

Live with joyful anticipation, and welcome every next step. 

Further thoughts on the topic here. 

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Part 1: Background | Part 2: Loyal Love | Part 3: Chance | Part 4: Abundance | Part 5: A Plan | Part 6: Approach | Part 7: Proposal

For now, Ruth will stay at the threshing floor with Boaz until daylight approaches. “Why did Boaz tell Ruth to remain with him that night [Ru 3.13], potentially compromising her virtue, rather than sending her home immediately? In view of the general lawlessness and social disruption that characterized the period of the judges (cp. Jdg 21:25), sending Ruth home alone late at night would have placed her life in danger” (ASB).

But she will leave before she can be recognized; “Boaz took precaution against scandal ([Ru] 3:14), which showed that he already was functioning as Ruth’s protector” (TCBC).

And as he sends her home at daylight, he demonstrates again his determination to function as her provider as well. Into her held-out cloak he pours “six measures” of barley grains (Ru 3.15). The six “measures” were probably 6 omers, 6/10 of an ephah (Ex 16.36) or about 25 pounds. Again, she probably carried the bundle home on her head. “If someone should spot her that morning it would appear that she had merely gotten an early start on the day’s work by transporting this sizable allotment of grain from the threshingfloor to her quarters” (Smith, OTSS).

When Ruth reports it all back to Naomi (Ru 3.16-17), the wise older woman reads Boaz’s intentions well (Ru 3.18).

So is God keeping covenant with this “empty” woman? Is He filling her again?

• He has brought her home just as food becomes abundant.
• He has led her foreign daughter to one of just a few men who are legally qualified to help her in a substantial way—and he is wealthy enough to act on the qualification, and kind enough to be willing to help.
• He has revealed Boaz to be an honorable man, and a humble one, who is surprised that the beautiful Moabite would even ask him for redemptive marriage.

Her reactions to this point tell us that she recognizes what the Lord is doing to refill her empty life.

• She knows immediately that Boaz, the owner of the “random” field, is “one of our next kinsmen” (Ru 2.20) and a man of hesed.
• She knows that Ruth will be well protected if she stays in his field for the harvest season (Ru 2.22).
• She knows that Boaz will likely respond honorably to Ruth’s plea for redemption and will not take advantage of the private meeting in the middle of the night (Ru 3.1-4).

 Could there possibly be more? Of course; would God do this much and leave her still effectively empty? Certainly not.

 And what of us?

 Will this God honor His promises to you?

• Will He receive you in spite of your sin?
• Will He meet your physical needs?
• Will He hear your prayers?
• Will He bring you safely home?

 What do you think?

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Part 1: Summary

In the previous post I observed that the biblical writers often used other works as they composed their writings—and that they didn’t confine themselves to other biblical works.

Here are the specifics.

I like to organize these references into 2 categories:

• Consultation, by which I mean that the author says, “This is also recorded in such-and-such a document.”
• Allusion or quotation, where the author quotes, loosely or directly, from another source, whether he specifies it or not.

First the consultations.

Jewish Sources

• Book of Genealogies (Gen 5.1)
• Book of Jasher (Josh 10.13; 2Sam 1.18)
• Book of Nathan the Prophet (1Ch 29.29; 2Ch 9.29)
• Prophecy of Ahijah the Shilonite (2Ch 9.29)
• Visions of Iddo the Seer (2Ch 9.29; 12.15; 13.22)
• Book of Shemaiah the Prophet (2Ch 12.15)
• Book of the Acts of Solomon (1K 11.41)
• Book of Gad the Seer (1Ch 29.29)
• Sayings of the Seers (2Ch 33.19)

Note that two passages, 1Ch 29.29 and 2Ch 9.29, are particularly rich in these consultations.

I also note that these sources cannot be divinely inspired, since they have not been preserved, as God promised that his Word would be.

A Persian Source

• The author of Esther (perhaps Mordecai?) consulted “The book of the chronicles of the kings of Media and Persia” (Es 10.2)—perhaps in the same warehouse where the unnamed servant grabbed a clay tablet at random to read to Xerxes so he could sleep (Es 6.1).

And now the allusions and quotations. Where possible I’ve included links to the sources on the internet so you can check ‘em for yourself.

Jewish Sources

• Book of the Wars of the Lord (Num 21.14; cf Ex 17.14)
• Jannes and Jambres (2Tim 3.8)—text not available online
• Martyrdom of Isaiah 1.9-10, 5.11-12 (Heb 11.37)
• Assumption of Moses (lost fragment) (Jude 9)
• 1 Enoch 1.9 (Jude 14-15)
• 1 Enoch 21.10 (?) (2Pt 2.4)

Pagan Sources

• Aeschylus, Agamemnon l. 1915 / 1624 (Acts 9.5)
  • This is included in Jesus’ words to Paul from heaven. Jesus’ sentence is clearly the same as the line from “Agamemnon,” but we can’t be certain that Jesus is quoting that poem. It’s possible that Aeschylus’s line became common in the ancient culture—similar to, say, “Early to bed and early to rise”—and Jesus is simply referring to the popular expression.
• Epimenides, Cretica (Acts 17.28a; Titus 1.12-13)
• Aratus, Phaenomena l. 5 (Acts 17.28b)
• Menander, Thais 218 (1Cor 15.33)

So What?

What does all this mean?

• The Spirit-driven biblical writers used sources, including pagan sources, with no apparent discomfort.
• They did so using the standard practices of their day; for example, Paul uses a couple of lines about Zeus and applies them to the Lord. The hearers would be expected to understand what he was doing, and there was no intent to deceive.

Here’s what it doesn’t mean. It doesn’t mean that the source is inspired. We do not “live, and move, and have our being” in Zeus.

One closing note.

Jude cites 1 Enoch in his epistle. Now, we know that the biblical Enoch is not the author of everything in 1 Enoch—but there’s no reason that the traditions on which 1 Enoch is based couldn’t have included some authentic statements of the ancient saint. If Jude had simply cited 1 Enoch without any comment, it wouldn’t matter whether or not what he quoted was actually spoken by Enoch. But he puts it this way:

And Enoch also, the seventh from Adam, prophesied of these, saying … (Jude 14).

In my opinion, Jude is stating that the historical Enoch, seven generations from Adam (and long before “1 Enoch” was written), said these words. And since Jude is inspired, I believe that the verse he quotes from 1 Enoch is in fact an authentic saying of the ancient prophet.

Have fun with all this.

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I ended my previous post by noting that although Moses was not allowed to see God’s face, God’s people will eventually see him. I’d like to meditate further on that.

In mentioning Moses I was referring to the well-known incident at Sinai, where Moses asked to see God’s face and was denied; God instead placed him in a fissure in the rock and, as he put it, covered the fissure with his hand, removing it just so as to allow Moses to see his “back” (Ex 33.17-23).

This occurred after Moses, Aaron, Nadab, Abihu, and the 70 elders of Israel had gone up on Mount Sinai “and saw the God of Israel: and there was under his feet as it were a paved work of a sapphire stone, and as it were the body of heaven in his clearness. And upon the nobles of the children of Israel he laid not his hand: also they saw God, and did eat and drink” (Ex 24.9-11). Immediately after that, the others returned to the camp while Moses and Joshua went further up the mountain, “and the glory of the Lord abode upon mount Sinai, and the cloud covered it six days: and the seventh day he called unto Moses out of the midst of the cloud. ¹⁷ And the sight of the glory of the Lord was like devouring fire on the top of the mount in the eyes of the children of Israel. ¹⁸ And Moses went into the midst of the cloud, and gat him up into the mount: and Moses was in the mount forty days and forty nights” (Ex 24.16-18). During those 40 days, God gave Moses instructions about the tabernacle and the priesthood (Ex 25-31).

And because of the apparent delay, the people worshiped a golden bull idol, and Moses, returning, broke the tables of the Law in his rage (Ex 32). In the succeeding days he met with God, “face to face” (Ex 33.11), and it was here that he asked to see God’s “glory” and was denied.

But then God instructed him to return to the mountain, where “the Lord passed by before him” (Ex 34.6) and revealed himself with the classic wording that is repeated throughout Scripture. On his return from the mountain, his face “shone” so much that he covered it when he spoke with the people (Ex 34.29-35).

God revealed himself to Moses in unprecedented and spectacular ways, even as he refused to show him his “face.”

Interestingly, six centuries later the prophet Elijah had a similar experience in the same place.

He was running from Jezebel, running for his life. He hid in a cave—another sort of fissure—and the voice of God commanded him to step out and stand in the open. There “the Lord passed by” to the sound of a mighty wind, “but the Lord was not in the wind” (1K 19.11). Then followed an earthquake, and then a fire, but the Lord was not in them either. And finally, as we all know, “a still small voice” (1K 19.12)—a voice that commissioned him for his next ministry, and a significant one.

And these two men, Moses and Elijah, were summoned to a different mountain centuries later, a “high mountain” in Israel, to see the shining face of God in another way, a better way, at the Transfiguration (Mt 17.1-8). There they communed with Jesus, the Word of God, the perfect expression of the Father (He 1.3), the one who said, “He that hath seen me hath seen the Father” (Jn 14.9). They spoke face to face, discussing Jesus’ coming “exodus,” the pivotal event in the history of the world.

They saw, and they knew.

And they were safe.

As my previous post noted, we, too, shall see him, and we shall even be like him (1J 3.2). We will no longer see as now, in a mirror, dimly (1Co 13.12).

May that day soon come.

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Part 1: Where? | Part 2: How? | Part 3: Joseph, For Example  | Part 4: And Naomi

No one tells the story of God’s providence better than the author of the Book of Esther. I did a fairly lengthy series of posts on that story a year or so back. You can read that series here.

Part 6: And the Seed of the Woman

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