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

Chair, Division of Biblical Studies & Theology,

Bob Jones University

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On Christian Convictions, Legalism, and the Fear of Man, Part 7

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In our working with this passage, so far we’ve covered just the first chapter, which sets the tone for the whole discussion. Today we’ll look at the rest.

As I noted in an earlier post, Paul lays down the basic principle in 1 Corinthians 8—since your brother’s spiritual health is more important than your personal freedom, you should sacrifice the latter for the former. In chapter 9, Paul uses himself as a personal example; in essence, he says, “I’ve sacrificed my rights for your benefit, so I’m not asking you to do anything I haven’t already done myself.”

In chapter 10, Paul gets more specific. Earlier I’ve said that Paul has agreed that the meat is fine, and that we are free to eat it. But that’s not really the whole story. The meat’s fine, indeed; but you’re not free to eat it in every circumstance. Here he gives three case studies—a no, a yes, and a maybe.

He begins by talking about worship (1Co 10.1-22). Remember how Israel fell into idolatry in the wilderness (1Co 10.1-15)? You can’t do that. You can’t participate in false worship, because worship matters, a lot. And you know about the Lord’s Table (1Co 10.16-22), right? Our worship means something to us too, doesn’t it?

All right, then. If your pagan friend is starting a new business, and wants good luck, and offers an idol sacrifice followed by a reception, you can’t go. Sure, the meat’s fine, but you can’t participate in false worship. Worship matters. A lot. That’s the “No.”

But the idol temple has opened up a little meat shop next door, where the priests sell off the extra meat. It’s good meat, at a good price. Feel free to buy it and eat it (1Co 10.25). That’s the “Yes.”

Now, suppose you have a neighbor invite you over for dinner. He serves steak. You don’t know where it came from, and, says Paul, you shouldn’t even care. Eat the meat (1Co 10.27).

Maybe.

Suppose there’s someone else invited to that dinner—another believer, in fact. He leans over to you, fear in his eyes, and says, “This meat has been offered to idols!”

What do you do then?

I’ll tell you what my instinct would be. I’d say, “Look, man, I understand your concerns. But this friend has invited us for dinner, and he’s lost, and I’ve been witnessing to him for years, and I’m not going to mess that up by making an issue out of something that shouldn’t even be an issue. I’ll talk to you about it later. But for now, trust me. It’s fine; eat the meat. Don’t be rude.”

And my instinct would be exactly wrong. 180 degrees wrong. Completely, backwards, wrong.

What does Paul say? Your brother’s spiritual health is infinitely important. Even though he’s mistaken, you look after him; you take care of him, even if that means being rude to your host (1Co 10.28-30)—and an unbelieving host, at that.

I don’t know of any culture where it isn’t rude to refuse an offered meal. You can try to lighten the offense, of course—“My friend, you have been so kind to us, and this meal looks delicious. I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but I’m not going to be able to eat this wonderful steak, because I’m a follower of Jesus.”

But it’s still going to be rude. Maybe he’ll ask why, and that may open up a door for the delightful grace of the gospel. But maybe he won’t; maybe he’ll just think you’re a jackass.

But here’s the thing. Your brother’s spiritual health is worth that risk. It is. Paul clearly says so.

So love your brother. Even if an unbeliever thinks you’re rude. Even if a fellow believer thinks you’re a legalist. Because your brother, the very image of God, is absolutely worth it.

There’s a lot more we could say about all this. I’d recommend a book if you’d like to study the concepts further. And yeah, the book just happens to be by a couple of friends of mine.

This will be my last blog post here for a while. I’m taking a break from blogging here so I can concentrate on blogging somewhere else. I’d love to have you follow that adventure if you find it interesting. If you don’t, that’s fine; I’ll see you back here, Lord willing, later.

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On Christian Convictions, Legalism, and the Fear of Man, Part 6

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So we’ve established that taking care of one another is more important than exercising our liberties. I think we’re ready now to talk about the fear of man.

Fear of man is a powerful disincentive to doing the right thing. We know what we ought to do, but we’re afraid of what people will think.

  • Looks to me like the group is about to do something we shouldn’t. I should speak up. But I don’t want to be That Person. I’ll just go along.
  • What that guy said about his wife is just reprehensible. I ought to take him aside and talk to him about it. But then he might not like me anymore. Hmm. It’s not that big a deal. Probably what he said doesn’t mean anything at all. I’ll let it pass, just this once.
  • If I befriend that unpopular person …
  • If I criticize what that cool Christian is doing …

Fear of man. It’s a menace.

I suspect that fear of man is the biggest reason that most Christians—most Christians—ignore Christ’s last and most important command. “Go into all the world,” he said. “And take the gospel to every creature.”

But we don’t. Not to the ends of the earth, not to the next state, not to our neighbor, not to the waitress who came right up to our table and started talking to us.

Nobody.

Because we’re afraid. Of them. Even the friendly ones. And especially the ones we already know.

Fear of man. It’s a menace.

But I’ve seen the charge leveled at people who clearly don’t deserve it. Can you see how someone following the clear principles of our passage might be accused of cowardice?

I have a right to eat meat offered to idols. It’s meat. There’s nothing wrong with it. But there’s this guy in the church who doesn’t think I should. So I won’t.

“Fear of man!” they cry. “You’re free! Free in Jesus! Be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage! Do The Thing! Don’t let fear of what that benighted legalist might think stop you from enjoying—celebrating—all that you are and have in Christ!”

Fair enough. But according to our passage, when we say that, we’re not thinking accurately, or precisely enough.

If I refuse the meat because I’m afraid of what someone will think, that’s indeed fear of man, and I need to deal with my soul about that.

But if I’m restraining myself because I care about that brother’s spiritual health—if I don’t want to encourage him to do something he thinks is wrong—then that’s not fear of man. It’s love for my brother.

It’s what every believer ought to do.

So don’t slander that kind of thinking. Celebrate it. Imitate it. Live that way.

Remember what the critic said? “Be not entangled with the yoke of bondage.”

That’s a Bible verse. Galatians 5.1. And it’s true. We ought not to be entangled with the yoke of bondage.

But the Bible isn’t a collection of inspirational quotations to be pulled out and used as ammunition against fellow believers without any understanding of the context.

What’s the “yoke of bondage” we’re not supposed to re-entangle ourselves with? In context (the entire book of Galatians), it’s attempting to earn salvation by keeping the law. Don’t do that.

But you know what else the context says? This verse is at the beginning of a paragraph. If you’ll read through to the end of the paragraph, you’ll find that Paul says, “By love serve one another” (Gal 5.13). That word serve is the same Greek root as the word bondage in verse 1.

Guess what? We’re free from the law, but we’re not free from everything. We’re bondslaves of Jesus Christ (Gal 1.10) (and yes, that thought is balanced by Gal 4.7, but the principle remains).

And, it turns out, we’re bondslaves of one another too. We serve one another. We put our brothers’ and sisters’ needs ahead of our own. That’s what we’re called to do.

How often, when you’re deciding whether or not to do something that believers disagree about, do you stop and consider the effect of your action on the believers around you? How often do you decide to serve your fellow believer instead of your own desire for freedom? How often?

I’m not asking you to be in bondage to the fear of man. If you labor under that burden—and most of us do, at one time or another—then take that burden to the cross and leave it there.

But serve your brother. Love your brother. As Christ has loved you.

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On Christian Convictions, Legalism, and the Fear of Man, Part 5

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When Christians disagree about applications, the disagreement often boils down to a toggle question: is doing _____ right or wrong? Is it moral or not?

And in those cases, only one side can be correct. Either a godly Christian can enjoy a glass of wine with his meal, or he can’t. Either I can get a tattoo of a buzzard on the side of my neck, or I can’t.

In the passage we’re examining, Paul has introduced a bit of a complication. If the tattoo is OK, but I think it’s wrong, then it would in fact be wrong for me to get one; I should never violate a restriction my conscience places on me.

But we’re finite, fallen creatures, and our thinkers are busted, and sometimes our consciences are mistaken.

Most commonly in our culture, sometimes they think something is OK when it isn’t. Our culture has set out to sear our consciences, and it’s done a powerfully effective job of that.

Let me give you an example, just to stimulate your thinking.

When I was a boy, my family found Christ in broader evangelicalism. In my Christian high school, most of the faculty were liberal Democrats. Some of them didn’t believe that any genuine Christian could be a Republican. And now some of my fellow travelers don’t believe that any genuine Christian could be a Democrat.

They’re both wrong. But that’s off my current point.

Even in that earlier, broader environment, most pew-sitters in evangelical churches had qualms about Christians going to movies. Even the good movies. You don’t want to support a corrupt industry, you know.

Now, 50 years later, the numbers are reversed. Most Christians see nothing wrong with going to movies.

What’s changed in the meantime? Well, for one thing, the movies have gotten a lot worse.

I’m not trying to make a statement about going to movies here. I’m just observing that over the last 50 years, our consciences have gotten much less sensitive. Now we think of those more sensitive days as “quaint.” That’s what our culture does to people.

But back to my main point. While it’s more likely in this day that your Christian conscience is letting stuff slide, occasionally your conscience may bother you when it shouldn’t. It may be mistaken on the restrictive side.

What do you do then?

Well, as Paul has said in 1 Corinthians 8, for now you need to listen to it, and not do The Thing. You need to keep it sensitive.

But while we need a sensitive conscience, we also need an accurate one.

One of the key attributes of God, oft repeated throughout Scripture, is that he is true. He cannot lie (Titus 1.2); he tells the truth; he keeps his promises (Jer 33.25-26); he is faithful (Dt 7.9). (The OT word for his faithfulness is ‘emunah, the root of our English word “Amen!”—“May it be so!”)

And our life is supposed to be a process of growing to be more like him (Rom 8.29), by the gracious empowerment of his Spirit.

So when we’re wrong about something, we can’t stay that way; we need to get right.

How do we do that?

We know the answer to that question. We experience sanctification, by the Spirit, through the means of grace: Scripture, prayer, fellowship with other believers.

So when I notice that fellow believers seem to have no problem with doing things that would trouble my conscience, I can’t just assume that they’re a bunch of worldly reprobates—smh—and continue my obviously superior lifestyle. I have to ask myself whether I might be mistaken—whether I might be misrepresenting the moral character of God. And I’ll use the means of grace to help me answer that question:

  • Search the Scripture. What does it say about tattoos, or movies, or wine, or whatever? Does it place absolute restrictions on them? Are there cases where they might be used to glorify God? Are there underlying biblical principles that would make them always wrong? Has the meaning of the practice in our culture shifted over time?
  • Pray. God does hear us, and he does speak to our conscience through his Spirit, informing it through the Scripture (see previous point). He does providentially engineer connections and experiences to show us where our thinking has been imprecise. Pray, and listen.
  • Talk with other believers—those who agree with you, and those who don’t. Listen to what they say; hear them. Consider their hearts and their words. And keep listening over time.

You may conclude that The Thing is still wrong, and your conscience may become even stronger in its conviction. But it will be strong for good reasons.

Or you may conclude that you’ve been mistaken. And as you think over these things and inform your conscience through the Word, your conscience will come to the point where it relaxes that restriction on you. And when your conscience gives you permission, you can act freely—as long as you’re not influencing someone else with a weak conscience.

Paul’s not done talking about this matter yet. Turns out there are more things to consider. We’ll start on those next time.

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On Christian Convictions, Legalism, and the Fear of Man, Part 4

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We’ve seen that Christians can disagree about how to apply Scripture—about what sorts of things they ought to do, and what sorts of things they ought not to do, and why. In 1 Corinthians 8 Paul tells us how to treat one another during those disagreements. The key principle, he says, is not knowledge—which of you Gets It?—but love: we need to take care of one another.

In the situation Paul describes, one of the believers is mistaken; he thinks something is wrong that isn’t. But, says Paul, he needs to listen to his conscience and respect its restriction, even though his conscience is mistaken—because you don’t want to damage your conscience.

But, as I noted at the end of the previous post, that raises two very important questions—

  • What exactly does it mean to be a “weaker brother”? and
  • Is it OK to have a misinformed conscience? Shouldn’t we try to correct that?

Let’s talk about the first one here, and the second one in the next post.

Several times (1Cor 8.7, 9, 10, 11, 12) Paul calls the restrictive brother “weak.” What does he mean by that?

  • I know several Christians who think that any Christian who thinks something is wrong is by definition “weak.” Well, that’s just nonsense. Some things are wrong, and people who don’t recognize that are not morally higher on the evolutionary scale. We’re not more godly by ignoring God’s moral nature. Hitler is not the best Christian ever.
  • OK, then, maybe “weak” means somebody thinks something is wrong that isn’t. That would appear to fit the context. But I would suggest that it doesn’t fit the whole context. The situation has a believer not merely thinking that something is wrong, but doing that “wrong” thing despite his compunctions (1Co 8.10, 13). And that makes me think carefully about the core meaning of the word weak. I note that it is specifically the brother’s conscience that is said to be weak (1Co 8.7, 10, 12). What’s a “weak” conscience? Well, at the risk of being pedantic, I’d suggest that it’s one that is not strong. And what’s a strong conscience? It’s one that can do what it’s designed to do: stop you when you’re about to do something wrong.
  • So I’d suggest that the “weaker” brother is not simply one who thinks a disputed action is wrong. He’s a brother who would be inclined to follow your example into doing something he believes to be wrong. He’s one who could be influenced to violate his conscience.

If my take on the language here is correct, then the problem we’re called to address is fairly limited. You don’t have to limit your practice just because another believer thinks you shouldn’t be doing it. You need to limit your practice only if your actions would encourage another believer to violate his conscience.

I’ve noticed that in many of these disputes—food, drink, clothing, music, whatever—both sides are pretty well dug in. Nobody on the “You shouldn’t do that!” side is going to start doing The Thing. In that case, this passage seems to give the Doer freedom to continue what he’s doing.

But while this understanding gives us greater freedom, it also requires a couple of things from us.

  • First, the Doer can’t call the Non-Doer “weak” just because the two disagree. The Doer can’t think of himself as superior because of his understanding. Knowledge puffs up; love builds up (1Co 8.1). We need to treat one another better than we do.
  • Second, Scripture holds the Doer responsible for what the Non-Doer might do. That means that we need to be aware of the consequences of our disputed actions; we need to know if there are people in our circle who might follow our example but who shouldn’t.

And that means that we need to know one another better than we do. We need to talk about these things. And that in turn means that we need to have the kind of atmosphere in our churches that encourages us to talk about things over which we strongly disagree. Our churches need to be Safe Spaces—yeah, I said that—where we can trust one another to listen and understand and care and love and embrace.

We need to not have wars, worship or otherwise.

Man, do we have a long way to go.

Next time, we’ll look at the second question: What do we do about a misinformed conscience?

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On Christian Convictions, Legalism, and the Fear of Man, Part 3

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We don’t solve disagreements in the church by claiming to know more than the people we disagree with. We’re brothers and sisters; we can’t treat one another that way.

So what’s the right approach?

On the question of eating meat offered to idols, Paul begins by giving a short, straightforward answer:

4 Therefore, as to the eating of food offered to idols, we know that “an idol has no real existence,” and that “there is no God but one.” 5 For although there may be so-called gods in heaven or on earth—as indeed there are many “gods” and many “lords”— 6 yet for us there is one God, the Father, from whom are all things and for whom we exist, and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and through whom we exist.

There’s no other god but Yahweh. The meat isn’t changed by being offered to a nonexistent god. As a matter of fact, that meat was made, and given to us (Gen 9.3), by the true God, who is gracious and generous and kind. By eating it with delight, we honor Him.

Eat the meat.

That’s the short answer.

But, says Paul, that answer isn’t really worth much, because y’all be askin’ the wrong question.

The issue isn’t the meat. It’s just meat.

The issue is the body of Christ. The issue is how we handle disagreements—even when one of the parties Just Doesn’t Get It.

And in this disagreement, Paul’s clear about which side that is:

7 However, not all possess this knowledge. But some, through former association with idols, eat food as really offered to an idol, and their conscience, being weak, is defiled. 8 Food will not commend us to God. We are no worse off if we do not eat, and no better off if we do. 9 But take care that this right of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak.

Remember those recently converted idol worshippers? Yeah, they matter. They matter a lot more than whether you eat meat. You can do without the meat. Take care of your brother. Knock off the “You just don’t get it!” nonsense.

Why?

Because if you do what you have a perfect right to do, you could cause spiritual harm to your brother. What kind of harm? You could “become a stumbling block.”

What does that mean? Next section:

10 For if anyone sees you who have knowledge eating in an idol’s temple, will he not be encouraged, if his conscience is weak, to eat food offered to idols? 11 And so by your knowledge this weak person is destroyed, the brother for whom Christ died. 12 Thus, sinning against your brothers and wounding their conscience when it is weak, you sin against Christ. 13 Therefore, if food makes my brother stumble, I will never eat meat, lest I make my brother stumble.

This dear fellow thinks eating the meat is wrong. He’s mistaken about that, but that’s what he thinks.

And, for reasons we simply can’t fathom, he also thinks you’re an example worth following.

He sees you eat the meat, and his conscience tells him “No!” and he eats it anyway.

Yikes.

He’s just violated his conscience.

Why is that problem? Because his conscience is the guardian of his soul. And when he disobeys his conscience, he’s going to damage it—as Paul says elsewhere, he’s going to “sear” it (1Ti 4.2). Scar it. Make it less sensitive.

And then he’s in really serious trouble. And you contributed to that.

Interesting, no? You need to listen to the “No”s of your conscience, even when it’s mistaken. Even if you Just Don’t Get It.

Now this raises a couple of interesting, and really important, questions—

  • What exactly does it mean to be a “weaker brother”?
  • Is it OK to have a misinformed conscience? Shouldn’t we try to correct that?

We’ll get to that next time.

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On Christian Convictions, Legalism, and the Fear of Man, Part 2

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Part 1

So Christians have the means, through the Spirit, to apply the Scripture to their own decisions about how to live. Yet their interpretation skills are imperfect, and they’re involved in a long process in which the Spirit teaches them how to live. So they’re works in progress.

That means that believers, who love God, seek to live for him, and know their Bibles, will disagree about the details.

The issues change over time and space, as cultures change. When I was a boy, Christians argued about whether women should have pierced ears; that’s not really much of an issue anymore. When I was in Mexico years later, I learned that some Christians there don’t think mariachi music is appropriate; I was genuinely surprised by that.

So in every time and in every place, believers will disagree about some sort of application. Right now in the US, Christians disagree about alcohol use; about tattoos; and about lots of other stuff.

In Paul’s day, they disagreed about whether Christians should eat meat that had been offered in sacrifice to idols. Nowadays we don’t offer meat-based life units to idols in Western culture, but I think we can put ourselves in first-century sandals and imagine how they felt.

  • “That’s idol worship! We can’t act as though that doesn’t matter! Idol worshippers eat that sacrificial meat as an act of devotion to their gods! We don’t want to do anything to give the impression that that’s OK!”
  • “Come on, they’re just idols. They don’t even really exist. We worship the true God. He’s not threatened by superstition. We don’t want to give the impression that we take those idols seriously.”

We can also imagine how the groups would tend to shake out. Converted idol worshippers would be more sensitive to the religious meaning of those sacrifices; they’d be more likely to want to get as far away from those practices as possible. Jewish Christians—particularly Hellenistic ones—might be more likely to dismiss the concerns.

I suspect the difference would shake out another way as well. The less well educated and traveled would tend to be concerned about the implicit “worldliness” of eating the meat. The more cosmopolitan and well educated—those with more frequent exposure to diverse cultures—would tend to see no problem with it.

And they go to church together.

What to do?

Paul addresses that question directly in a lengthy portion of 1 Corinthians. In chapter 8 he introduces the issue and gives the short answer; in chapter 9 he reminds the readers of his own example; and in chapter 10 he gives the longer answer with some explanation.

But he begins it all with an important principle about how we are supposed to get along—something that’s going to set the tone for the rest of the question:

1 Now concerning food offered to idols: we know that “all of us possess knowledge.” This “knowledge” puffs up, but love builds up. 2 If anyone imagines that he knows something, he does not yet know as he ought to know. 3 But if anyone loves God, he is known by God.

So what’s that all about? What does that have to do with eating meat offered to idols?

Everything.

We all think we’re right. We think we understand the issue of the day, and anybody who disagrees with us is either 1) lying, 2) evil, or 3) just stupid. We see this all the time in political debates these days. The Other Side is so evil that we should “lock her up!” or so stupid that we don’t even need to address their arguments; we just mock them.

Here’s the thing. It can’t be that way in the church. It can’t. We must not think that way about one another.

  • Suppose I think that eating the meat is fine, and you don’t. Well, you know what your problem is? You don’t understand grace! You don’t understand the gospel! You just don’t get it!
  • Suppose I don’t think that eating the meat is fine, and you do. Well, you know what your problem is? You don’t love Jesus! You don’t understand holiness! You just don’t get it!

As soon as a believer says, “You just don’t get it!” he’s rejecting Paul’s teaching—regardless of which side of the issue he’s on.

Knowledge puffs up. Love builds up. We need a completely different approach.

And what approach is that?

Next time.

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On Christian Convictions, Legalism, and the Fear of Man, Part 1

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If you’re a believer, as I am, then we are together in Christ. His death has paid the price for our sin, and his righteous life has been credited to us. We stand before a smiling God, who is well pleased in us, as he is well pleased in his Son.

So we’re free.

Free from the stain and penalty of sin, free from its power to compel us to evil, free from the need to try to win God’s favor by being good enough, free from any sense of impending doom.

Life in Christ is very, very good. It’s joyous. We, of all people, should be dancing like no one is watching (2Sam 6.12-21).

And this life in Christ includes even more. It’s a long process of God’s working in us to conform us ever more closely to the image of his Son (Rom 8.29; 2Co 3.18). Through his empowerment, we take off the old way of life like a dirty suit, and we put on a new lifestyle of sparkling, beautiful righteous behavior (Eph 4.17-32).

And that’s where it starts to get tricky.

The Bible speaks of this process, called sanctification, as being a cooperative work between God and man. God directs and empowers it, but we’re not just lying on the couch waiting for it to happen. The New Testament is filled with imperatives—commands—for God’s people. Hundreds of them. We should roll up our sleeves and get to work at this business of good works—not because they’ll save us (Titus 3.5), but because that’s what God’s people “naturally” do, by his grace. Faith without works is dead (Jam 2.20).

How does that look in action? The devil, as they say, is in the details. What actions of the old lifestyle do we stop doing? If we’re not bound to keep the Old Testament Law, how do we exercise that freedom? How do we prevent being entangled again in the yoke of bondage (Gal 5.1)? And what do we do when we disagree?

This is a really big topic, and there have been whole books written on it; I’ll be pointing some of those out along the way. But there is a section of Scripture specifically devoted to the question, and I’d like to spend a few posts sharing some thoughts about that section that I don’t see being emphasized in many of those books.

We’ll get to the biblical section in the next post, but to start with I’d like to lay down some principles we all ought to agree on:

  • God’s people are given the Holy Spirit to illuminate their thinking on what the Scripture says (1Co 2.9-16).
  • But God’s people still have broken thinkers, limited by the damaging effects of sin. We’re not glorified yet. So God’s people will disagree with one another about specific ways to apply the Scripture’s teaching.
  • Every believer is of infinite worth.
  • The unity of believers is one way God shows the world, seen and unseen, that he is capable of bringing together people who should be fervent enemies (Eph 3.1-12).
  • The spiritual health of our fellow believers is partially our responsibility. We’re a body, and God calls us to take care of one another (Eph 4.11-16).

These ideas should drive our thinking when we find ourselves in disagreement with other professing believers. We should seek to reach agreement in our understanding of Scripture, but we should expect a certain degree of disagreement, and we should care for one another in times of disagreement as certainly as in times of agreement.

Next time, we’ll start into the particulars—the details. You know, where the devil is.

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Firstborn!: You and the Jehovah’s Witnesses, Part 8

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So where do we end up?

Initially, it really looks like the Jehovah’s Witness is right. The word firstborn most obviously describes someone who has been born, who has come into existence at a point in time. And because that’s the word’s basic meaning, that’s the way it’s usually used—97% of the time, it’s to be taken literally.

But there is a second meaning of the word, and the immediate and broader context of Colossians 1.15 makes it absolutely certain that this admittedly rare use of the word is required here.

The deity of Christ, which has been the tortoise in this little exegetical race, has outrun the Jehovah’s Witnesses’ hare, decisively.

Truth wins.

OK, time to ‘fess up.

This series wasn’t really about the Jehovah’s Witnesses, was it?

Sure, we considered a single verse that the JWs use to allege that Jesus was a created being, but that verse would be worth studying even if there were no Jehovah’s Witnesses involved. And as a survey and refutation of Witness theology, this series is seriously lacking. There’s a lot more that needs to be said; that’s why there are whole books on the subject.

So what was the series really about?

It was about how to study the Bible—about how to find out what a biblical passage means by what it says.

It was a part—an important part—of what we call the exegetical process. It was about figuring out what the key questions are in a given passage and seeking to answer those questions—to the extent that we can answer them by digging further into the meanings of the words the Bible uses.

There’s a lot more to that process. But I’ve included this much of it here for two reasons:

  1. I want to emphasize how important it is that we take the Scripture seriously and handle it carefully. The Scripture contains all that we need to know about God and our relationship with him. (We call that principle the “sufficiency” of Scripture.) And it tells us those things in a way that we can understand. (We call that the “perspicuity” of Scripture.)

But that doesn’t mean that everything’s lying right there on the surface, to be picked up by every casual reader. As with gemstones, so it is with the gems of biblical truth. Sometimes you just need to dig. The good stuff will often call for some effort from us.

I often tell my students that spiritual exercise is like physical exercise: there’s some benefit to almost any intensity of exercise, but if you want to build muscle, you’re going to have to put some weights on the machine. A casual reading of the Scripture will do you some good; the Scripture has a power all its own (Heb 4.12). But there are truths there that will yield themselves only to diligent investigation. You’re going to have to work at it.

Eight blog posts for just part of one short verse. But the effort was worth it, wasn’t it?

  1. Equally important, to my mind, is the fact that you can do this kind of study. You don’t need a seminary education, or a knowledge of Greek or Hebrew or Latin, or Logos Collector’s Edition, to do this kind of work.

Sure, we talked about Greek a bit—I mentioned the Greek word prototokos, but I didn’t use Greek letters, and I used it to make a point about etymology that I had already made clearly (I think) in English. The Greek was just a pleasant diversion. (NB: Sure, there’s benefit to having Greek. But my point is that the truths of the Bible are readily available to people who don’t have that knowledge.)

What you need is the awareness to ask the right questions—and if you’ve read this series of posts, you now should have that—and the willingness to do it.

That means devoting the time, and the energy, to studying the Bible at the depth required to get the answers you need.

And take heart from the fact that you have a powerful helper, a Comforter, one standing alongside you to help you understand. Paul tells us that the believer has the Spirit of God, who of course knows the mind of God perfectly, to reveal God’s truth to us (1Co 2.6-16). We have a powerful advantage over the unbeliever (the “natural person,” 1Co 2.14).

So. There’s a universe of truth waiting to be discovered in this Book. Sit down, focus your mind, and get to work.

God bless.

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Firstborn!: You and the Jehovah’s Witnesses, Part 7

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We’re working through Colossians 1.9ff, trying to determine how Paul wants us to understand the word firstborn in Col 1.15. Is he saying that Jesus is the first created being, or that he’s pre-eminent over all creation? In the previous post we’ve looked at Col 1.9-16. Here we pick up with verse 17.

  • Col 1.17: He is “before all things.” This could go either way; he could exist briefly earlier than everything else, or he could exist eternally earlier than everything else. Checkmark for both sides.
  • Col 1.18:
    • He is the head of the body. That’s about position, not time. Checkmark for “higher.”
    • He is the beginning. See v 17. Checkmark for both.
    • He is the firstborn from the dead. Now this one is particularly significant. It’s another use of the same word, by the same author, in the same context. We’re going to assume that Paul is using it the same way as in verse 15, unless we have clear clues to the contrary (as I supplied in the sample “sun set” sentence).

So is Christ the first one to rise from the dead? Clearly not; he raised people from the dead before his own death, and others rose from the dead in the Old Testament.

Is he the most important person to rise from the dead? Yes, certainly; we have that stated directly by Paul himself in 1Co 15.14, 17, and 20. (Compare John 14.19.) Checkmark for “higher.”

  • He is firstborn so that he might have the pre-eminence in all things. Checkmark for “higher.”
  • Col 1.19: All fullness of God dwells in him. If all fullness of the Father is in the Son, then he’s eternal. Checkmark for “higher.”

Let’s summarize what we’ve found. In the immediate context, there are 7 clues for “higher,” and 3 that are ambiguous. There are none that point to “earlier” unambiguously. In short, there are 7 evidences that it cannot be “earlier,” and no evidences that it cannot be “higher.”

“Higher” it is. Jesus is Lord over all creation.

That finishes the sentence and the paragraph of immediate context. Now we look further, into the surrounding context. Does Paul say anything in the rest of the epistle that would tell us whether or not Christ is a created being? We can point out a few things:

  • Col 2.3: All the treasures of wisdom and knowledge are hidden in Christ. Omniscience is a non-communicable divine attribute.
  • Col 2.9: All the fullness of the Godhead dwells bodily in Christ.
  • Col 3.4: Christ is our life. Life finds its source in God, not in any creature.
  • Col 3.11: Christ is all, and in all.
  • Col 3.24: We serve the Lord Christ.

From here we extend our search further, to the epistles Paul wrote about the same time (Ephesians, Philemon, and, probably a little later, Philippians).

  • Eph 1.23: Christ is the one “who fills all in all.” Omnipresence is a non-communicable divine attribute.
  • Eph 3.8: Christ’s riches are unsearchable.
  • Eph 3.19: The love of Christ passes knowledge, filling us with all the fullness of God.
  • Eph 4.7-8: Jesus is God (cf Ps 68.17-18).
  • Eph 4.10: Again, Christ fills all things.
  • Php 2.9-11: Everyone will worship Christ.

Then we extend it to the rest of Paul’s writings.

  • 1Co 10.9: Christ is Jehovah.
  • 2Co 5.10: Christ is the Judge.
  • 2Co 12.8-9: Christ’s strength is unlimited. Omnipotence is a non-communicable divine attribute.
  • Rom 9.5: Christ is God.
  • Rom 10.12-14: Christ is Lord of all.
  • Titus 2.13: Christ is our great God and Savior.

Then to the rest of the epistles.

  • Heb 1.8: The Son is God.
  • 2P 1.1: Christ is our God and Savior.

Then to the entire NT.

  • Mk 1.2: Jesus is Jehovah (cf Isa 40.3).
  • John 1.1: The Son is God. (And no, it doesn’t say he was “a god.”)
  • John 12.41: Jesus is Jehovah of Hosts (cf Isa 6.1ff).
  • John 20.28: Jesus accepts Thomas’s description of him as God. (And no, Thomas wasn’t saying “OMG!”)

And finally to the OT.

  • Isa 9.6: Christ is the mighty God.
  • Dan 7.13-14: Christ is worshiped by all nations.

There’s much more; this is just the low-hanging fruit.

Next time, we’ll conclude.

Part 8

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Firstborn!: You and the Jehovah’s Witnesses, Part 6

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We’re wrestling with Colossians 1.15, which says that Christ is “the firstborn of all creation.” What does that mean? We’ve determined that the word firstborn can mean two things: almost always, it means that the firstborn came into existence at a point in time, as the first sibling to be born; but very rarely, it can mean simply that the firstborn is pre-eminent or exalted over something else.

Which of those meanings applies here?

In the previous post I said that it is precisely at this point in the process where Christians make their big mistake. We’re talking to the Jehovah’s Witness, and we really want to win this argument, so we take them to Psalm 89.27 to show them that the word can mean “pre-eminent one,” and then we say triumphantly, “And that’s what it means here in Colossians 1.15!”

Now, hold on a minute. What did you just do?

You picked the meaning you liked the best. You picked the meaning that would help you win the argument. In other words, you didn’t do any exegesis; you didn’t “draw the meaning out of” the passage. You did eisegesis; you “read the meaning you wanted into” the passage. You made yourself the lord of the Scripture rather than its servant. You’re telling it what to say instead of listening to what it actually says.

You bad little Christian, you.

Look. The Bible is true, and the truth is our friend. We want to hear whatever it says. Every time.

So what should you have done?

You have two possible meanings, or nuances, for the word firstborn. How do you determine which one to read in this sentence?

Remember our sample sentence about the sun and chess and hair? How did you know what the word set meant in its 3 occurrences in that sentence?

Context. You looked for clues in the sentence to determine the proper meaning.

So finding that really useful nuance in Psalm 89.27 doesn’t mean that you’re done. On the contrary, it means that you’re just now ready to get started. You have the nuances; now you’re going to set out to determine the meaning. Time to look at the sentence, then the larger context of the passage, then the larger context of Paul’s writings, then the whole New Testament, and then the Bible as a whole. We have a lot of work to do.

Quick reminder. Who’s winning the argument at this point? On etymology and on usage frequency, the Jehovah’s Witness is winning by a mile. 97 to 3. Not even close.

Step 4: Intended meaning in close context

So to the sentence we go. How does Paul intend us to read this word?

If we follow the KJV punctuation, the sentence starts all the way back at the beginning of the paragraph, in verse 9. (Sentences of that length and complexity are not unusual in Paul; the longest sentence in the Bible runs for 12 verses in Ephesians 1, a sister epistle to our Colossians.) We need to read the sentence carefully, looking for clues as to whether Paul is talking about priority in time or priority in standing—whether he’s talking about being earlier or being higher.

So here we go.

  • Col 1.13: the Son has a kingdom. The king is usually the oldest son of the previous king, and he’s certainly exalted, so this phrase could go either way. A checkmark for both sides.
  • Col 1.15: this is the one we’re trying to figure out. No score.
  • Col 1.16:
    • The Son created everything. Well, now. If he created everything, then he couldn’t be created, could he? If you had written that, your freshman English teacher would have said it was a logical error. If he’s the first created being, then you should say, “For by him were all other things created.” Now, we know Paul. He’s a rabbi trained by the great Rabban Gamaliel. He wrote Romans. Even setting aside the factor of divine inspiration, how likely is it that Paul made a rookie logical mistake like that? Not very. Checkmark for “higher.”
    • And one more thing. The verse starts with the word “For.” Paul is logically connecting the fact that Christ is firstborn with the fact that he made all things. Which reading makes better sense:
      • “Christ was created first because he made all things.”
      • “Christ is over all creation because he made all things.”

That question answers itself. Checkmark for “higher.”

  • And another thing. The verse ends with the statement that all things were created “for” him. Checkmark for “higher.”

We’re just getting started. We’ll continue this little investigation next time.

Part 7 Part 8

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