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 Puzzled Prophets, Part 1 

September 23, 2024 by Dan Olinger 2 Comments

Recently I preached in chapel for BJU Seminary. Here’s a summary of that message. 

This semester in chapel, BJU Seminary is working through 1 Peter under the theme “Exiles with Expectant Hope.” Peter begins this letter, which is going to talk a lot about suffering and persecution, by pointing out the confident expectation that God’s people have of an inheritance “reserved in heaven for you” (1P 1.4). And this despite the undeniable fact of “manifold testings” (1P 1.6), which, he says, are not a sign that anything has gone wrong with God’s plan for us, but rather are the very means God is using to prepare us for future eternal service that brings glory to God (1P 1.7). 

And then, suddenly, Peter puzzles us, on two counts: 1) what he says in verses 10-12; and 2) why he says it at all in this context. What’s his point? 

Do you like puzzles? Let’s work on one. 

What Peter Says 

Peter says, quite surprisingly, that at certain times the Hebrew prophets did not understand the messages they brought from the Lord. Why is that surprising? Because the prophet’s whole job is to bring a message from God to a given audience—Israel, Judah, occasionally one of the neighboring countries. How can he do that if he doesn’t understand the message? What’s he going to say? 

I suppose, to be thorough, we should look for specific examples of puzzled prophets in the OT. The one that comes most immediately to my mind is in Daniel 12, where Daniel is given a message from God, through a messenger, apparently in a vision. He sees two men, one on each side of a river (Da 12.5), one of whom asks a third person, “When does the end come?” (Da 12.6). He answers, “A time, times, and a half” (Da 12.7). 

Do you find that perfectly clear? I certainly don’t. (I know, several interpreters see that as 3½ years, or half the tribulation period—but I’d suggest that all these years later, the whole thing’s still pretty obscure, as is evidenced by the fact that believers hold any number of eschatological positions.) 

As further evidence, I note the very next verse, where the prophet himself says, “I heard, but I understood not.” You too, huh, Daniel? 

So he does the reasonable thing and asks for an explanation—he repeats the original question. 

And the angel says (this is the Olinger Revised Version), “Never you mind, fella.” He asks for clarification—and is refused! 

Why? 

The messenger tells him this much: “It’s not for now; it’s for later” (Da 12.9). 

And then the book ends. 

Whaaat?! 

Well, whatever else we think about this specific prophecy, we have confirmation that Peter is not exaggerating. Here’s at least one case where the prophet does not understand the prophecy he’s given. 

Are there others? 

I don’t know of any others that are specified as fitting the pattern—though Ezekiel’s wheel vision comes pretty close—but I can think of several that the writers might not have understood: 

  • Did Moses, writing Genesis and describing the Fall event in chapter 3, understand that very odd phrase “the seed of the woman” (Ge 3.15)? Adam and Eve almost certainly didn’t, given that at the time there hadn’t been even one baby born yet; but what about Moses, maybe two or three millennia later? Did he think, “Hmmm. virgin birth?” 
  • Did Isaiah, seven centuries after Moses, understand when he wrote, “He shall make his grave with the wicked, and with the rich” (Is 53.9)? Is there any chance at all that he could have described with any degree of accuracy what would eventually happen? 

We don’t know for sure, of course, because the Bible doesn’t specify, and we know that God doesn’t like it when we say he said things that he didn’t (e.g. Jer 14.14). But deep down inside, I doubt that they understood. 

Next time: what specifically they were puzzled about, and why Peter brings up this point in the first place. 

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Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: prophecy, special revelation

On Seeing God, Part 2: Elijah

April 27, 2023 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Moses

There was another man who desperately needed to see God.

His name was Elijah.

Elijah was a highly unusual fellow. He had a wild appearance, much like a later prophet, John the Baptist. He was confrontational, no-nonsense, not one to back away from a showdown (well, most of the time). Though not the first prophet, he was the initiator of the prophetic era, from the 8th century down to Malachi, the end of special revelation in the Old Testament era.

Elijah’s prophetic calling, like that of many other prophets, brought him into direct confrontation with the perverted and unjust leadership of his nation, most especially Ahab and his pagan Tyrian wife Jezebel. At Elijah’s command, Israel receives no rain for three long years (1K 17.1), a drought that certainly devastated the land economically. As the drought is about to end, Elijah faces down the priests of the Canaanite god Baal on Mt Carmel, calling down fire from heaven and massacring the priests (1K 18.21-40).

Seeking vengeance for her god Baal, Queen Jezebel pronounces a fatwa on the prophet (1K 19.2), who, in a highly uncharacteristic response, runs for his life. (We all have our moments, don’t we?) Elijah heads for the safety and anonymity of the Wilderness, the Negeb, to the south. There, beyond Beersheba, he slumps in the shade of a brush tree and asks God to kill him.

He’s pretty low.

But God will have none of that. He sends a messenger to give him two hearty meals with a good sleep in between (1K 19.5-7). And then he directs him further south, deeper into the desert, to a place that’s familiar to us: Mt Horeb.

We may not recognize the name, but we’ll recognize the place. This is Mt Sinai, the mount of God, where Israel had been constituted as a nation, where Moses had communed with God face to face, where God had given Moses his spoken and written Law, where God had placed him in a crevice of the rock face and covered him with his hand while he passed by in his glory.

This is the place where God has revealed himself in the past, and where he is about to reveal himself again.

But this one is very different.

God speaks calmly to Elijah, asking him simple questions. And then there’s activity reminiscent of the thunderings and lightnings that enveloped the mountain in Moses’ day—there’s a hurricane-force wind that actually breaks off the rocks on the mountain’s face, and then there’s an earthquake, and then a raging fire. Sound and fury.

But God, the text says, is not in these things (1K 19.11-12). Not this time.

God is in the still small voice that follows.

It’s the voice of a call. God calls him, authorizes him, to prepare the next generation of leadership—the next king of Syria, the next king of Israel, and then, last, the next prophet, the one who will take his own place.

God reveals himself not in a visible form, not this time. He reveals himself in a calling.

Both of these men, Moses and Elijah, experienced remarkable things. But we get a sense—the narrator seems to want us to think this way—that the men have been left a little short. Moses has begged to see God’s face, but he hasn’t. Elijah has despaired of God’s presence and protection to the point of death, and he gets a quiet voice.

Is God the kind of person who will leave things there for those men?

Oh no.

Eight centuries later another man takes three close friends to another mountaintop. And in an astonishing moment, this ordinary-looking man, another itinerant prophet, begins to shine with the glory that Moses has begged to see (Mt 17.1-2). He is revealed as not merely a prophet, but God himself in human form, God the Son, the Beloved One—the perfect and complete revelation of the Father.

And suddenly two other men are there.

Moses. And Elijah.

They finally got their vision.

And we receive that vision as well, when we see Jesus, God’s perfect self-revelation, the Living Word revealed perfectly in the Written Word, the Scripture.

You’d think we’d spend more time reading it.

Photo by Gabriel Lamza on Unsplash

Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: special revelation, systematic theology, theology proper

On Seeing God, Part 1: Moses

April 24, 2023 by Dan Olinger 3 Comments

Let me tell you a tale of two men who desperately needed to see God.

The first is Moses.

The difficulties Moses faced in leading the Israelites out of Egypt are notorious. He encountered constant fear, dissatisfaction, and complaining. When the crowd finally arrived at Sinai, I suppose he expected that things would get easier, that the people would see the power of God exhibited and come together as a covenant nation.

Of course, they had seen the visible presence of God all along the way in the pillar of cloud that led them, and they had complained anyway. But surely here …

Moses meets God, apparently in view of the people, and receives the Ten Commandments (Ex 20.1-17) and some additional initial laws (Ex 20.22-23.33). He then offers sacrifices in the presence of the people (Ex 24.1-8), before ascending with the other leaders of Israel to the mountaintop (Ex 24.9-11)—and “there they saw the God of Israel” (Ex 24.10). The text doesn’t describe very clearly what they saw, but I’m inclined to think it was less than Moses wanted to see, as we’ll note shortly.

Then God calls Moses to a private audience on the summit, where he gives him the commandments in written form (Ex 24.12). (This is a significant step in the progress of divine revelation.) God and Moses commune there for 40 days, while God explains the design and procedures of the Tabernacle (Ex 25.1-31.18).

But while Moses is having his mountaintop experience, calamity strikes his people back on the desert floor. Assuming that Moses isn’t coming back, they demand that Aaron make them a visible representation of the gods (Ex 32.1)—and he does. This just days after they have received (orally) the Ten Commandments—including the Second One.

At the sight of the orgy, Moses is enraged. He breaks the stone tablets of the Law and destroys the idol—and forces the idolatrous people to drink the powdered gold (Ex 32.20). And then, in a surprising turn, he intercedes with God for the people (Ex 32.31-32).

God tells him there are still things to be resolved between Him and Israel, but he promises to send his angel to accompany the nation into the Land (Ex 32.34). Moses erects a tent outside the camp where he can communicate with God (Ex 33.7). (This is evidently not the Tabernacle, since it clearly hasn’t been constructed yet [Ex 35-40].) And there, hidden from the people, he meets with God and talks “face to face” (Ex 33.11).

But despite all this interaction. Moses is not satisfied with his sight of God. There in the tent he says, “I’m begging you—show me your glory!” (Ex 33.18).

And God replies, “I can’t do that; you wouldn’t survive. No one can see me—really see me—and live.”

Such is the glory of the God of heaven, the Creator of heaven and earth. For Moses, there is no way that he can fulfill his desire to know God that intimately. The distance—the gap—is far too great.

But God offers him a consolation prize. “I’ll put you in a crevice on the face of the mountain,” he says, “and I’ll cover you with my hand to protect you from my glory, and for just a split second I’ll take away my hand and let you see my back. That’s all you’ll be able to endure” (Ex 33.20-23).

And so, for all the special privileges Moses has been given, for all the revelations and meetings and face-to-face conversations, his deepest desire remains unfulfilled. He wants to know God clearly, accurately, fully. He wants to commune with his Maker at a level beyond what a mere creature can survive.

As creatures made in God’s image, we all have within us that desire to know God, to understand him, to love him. Since the Fall, of course, most of God’s images distort that desire into something grotesque. But it’s there, deep inside.

There’s another man in the Bible with a similar longing. We’ll meet him next time.

Part 2

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Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: special revelation, systematic theology, theology proper

How God Speaks, Part 3

December 5, 2019 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Part 1 | Part 2

In Part 1 we noted that in biblical times God spoke a lot—as Hebrews 1.1 puts it, in different times, in different ways, to different people. But the same passage also says that with the incarnation there’s come a change; now things are different, and radically different. Part 2 lays out my reasons for saying that.

Some people find that sad. How great would it be to hear Isaiah preach, or David sing, or Moses thunder! And how much greater would it be to hear the Son himself teach, and see him heal, and watch him work! And wouldn’t it be great if God spoke to us, directly, in our heads? Isn’t it sad that we can’t do any of these things today? Don’t we feel a little bit … well, deprived?

No, we’re not deprived, regardless of how we feel. How do I know that? Because it isn’t in God’s character to deprive his people. He sometimes chastens us (Heb 12.6), but he doesn’t hold back from us anything we need (Php 4.19), or anything good (Ps 84.11). Jesus told his disciples that it was better for them that he go away (Jn 16.7). The same book that tells us about this change in the way God speaks also has as its primary point the great superiority of the New Way over the Old.

We may not feel like it’s better not to have prophets among us, but it is.

What’s better about it?

Let’s begin by making the obvious point. God still speaks to us today, but he does so in very specific ways. He speaks through his created works (Ps 19.1; Rom 1.20), but that medium is tainted by sin (Rom 8.22) and therefore unreliable as revelation. He spoke fully and perfectly by revealing himself in the person of his Son, as Hebrews 1.2 says. And as the Son told his disciples, after he left them he would send the Spirit, who would do certain things in and through them—most specifically, he would “bring all things to [their] remembrance” (Jn 14.26) and “guide [them] into all truth” (Jn 16.13). When did he do that? When they wrote the New Testament, completing the Scriptures.

So how does he speak authoritatively today? In the written Word, which is the Spirit-given record of the living Word, the incarnation, “the express image of [God’s] person” (Heb 1.3), “the image of the invisible God” (Col 1.15), the one “in whom dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily” (Col 2.9). And that’s much better than the old way.

How?

Let me suggest three ways; I’m confident there are more.

  1. The Word is objective. It’s written down, for all the world to see. The words are on the page; there’s a permanent record. It’s not a fleeting impression in your mind. There’s no question of whether it’s from God or just the product of your own imagination. It’s there.
  • The Word is firsthand. The Spirit of God directly guided the biblical authors so that they wrote what he intended (2P 1.21), down to the letter (Mt 5.18). We don’t have to depend on somebody else’s account of a dream he had once.
  • The Word can’t be faked. About that guy and his dream—how do you know if God really told him that? How do you know he’s not a crook? These days we have a pretty lousy record of discerning the spirits of preachers. Elmer Gantry is not entirely fiction, is he? We’re really good at being duped, because our flesh wants us to be. Jesus calls us sheep for a reason, no?

Back in the late 1970s I went to a healing service in Greenville featuring Ernest Angley. I decided to see what would happen if I asked to be healed. I got there about 10 minutes before show time and headed for the front row on the left side, from where I knew he called up the people he was going to heal. About 10 rows from the front an usher stopped me and asked if he could help. I told him I wanted to be healed. He told me that if God told Brother Angley to heal me, he’d call me out of the crowd regardless of where I was sitting. And he told me to go sit further back.

Which I did, about the middle of the house. And over the next 10 minutes I saw people trickle out, one by one, from behind the curtain and take their seats in the front row on the left. Those were the people he healed.

I don’t really need to tell you what was going on there, do I?

The written Word, my friends. The New Covenant. It’s better. It’s all we need.

Hear it.

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Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: biblical theology, Hebrews, special revelation, systematic theology

How God Speaks, Part 2

December 2, 2019 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1

A slight change of plans.

In Part 1 of this series, I said that in Part 2 I’d write about how God speaks today, and how the current way is better than the old way. But in the meantime I’ve gotten some really good questions from a friend, and I’d like to insert a longer-than-usual post here to respond to them.

My friend had three questions—

  • “Is it possible that the contrast [described in Heb 1.1-2] is not exclusive, but the change is that God didn’t speak through his son in the past (though some would posit he did through Christophanies), and now he has?”
  • Or could “the focus of the change could have been on salvation–previously presented by prophets and the law, later presented by the incarnation and work of Jesus”?
  •  “Also, what about the many passages predicting prophecy, dreams, and visions as an outpouring of the Holy Spirit? I’m curious how you account for God speaking in those? (Acts 2:33, 10:45; Rom. 5:5)”

Good questions, all.

I’ll observe that this takes us to a full-scale discussion of the disagreement between continuationists and cessationists, which I can’t possibly address sufficiently in a blog post or two. But I hope to lay down the seeds of my thought process enough that they can sprout in your mind if you’d like to seek a harvest in the topic.

So, to be brief, I find the options in the first and second questions above insufficient with regard to all the major disciplines of theology—

  • Exegetical Theology
    • I note that all the major English versions follow the KJV in rendering the main verb here as a perfect tense, “God has spoken,” implying completed action in the past. I also note, however, that the Greek tense is not perfect, but aorist—and the Greek bodies among us know that the aorist usually has little to no temporal significance in Koine; it’s the default tense, the tense you use when you’re not emphasizing tense. Yet all the major English versions render it as perfect. Why is that? I suspect that like me they see the strongly constrastive structure of the passage and conclude that the contrast is between speaking partially through mediators and speaking completely and directly in the divine Son.
    • I also note that larger context (the book of Hebrews) is all about the qualitative difference between the Old Covenant and the New—because Jesus is superior as to his person (Heb 1-4) and his work (Heb 5-10). This is all-encompassing and should not be restricted to just a part of God’s plan or providential activity.
  • Biblical Theology
    • The Bible tells many stories, but through them it is telling just one Big Story, or metanarrative—and that story is about Christ as the perfect and complete revelation of the Father. I’ve written on that before, how the Old Testament purposely creates in us a longing for the very offices that Christ perfectly fills—one of which is Prophet.
    • Hebrews 1.1-2 is the climax of that larger story—Christ, in permanently uniting the divine nature and the human nature in a single person, unites his people with God. So John tells us that the Son is the “Word” (logos) (Jn 1.1) who perfectly “exegetes” the Father (Jn 1.18). We should not seek to minimize this climax by making it anything less than the center of the story.
  • Systematic Theology:
    • I’ve gotten a little ahead of myself in the previous paragraphs, noting the “person” and “natures” and “work” of the divine Son. Those terms more properly belong to systematic theology.
    • And what does Christology tell us? That Christ is perfect and complete in every way, and that he thereby perfectly reveals the Father. I ask, what part of God’s revelation of himself in Christ may we find insufficient? What remains to be said? I’m not trying to sound like the fabled head of the US Patent Office who allegedly suggested in 1889 that the office should be shut down because everything had already been invented. We’re not talking about human inventors here; we’re talking about the Son, one of whose offices is to reveal the Father perfectly. I’d suggest that there are Christological implications of continuationism, at least in the form promoted by most Pentecostals and Charismatics.
  • Historical Theology
    • I think it’s noteworthy that until the 20th century, every orthodox church leader that I’m aware of agreed that the Canon was closed because special revelation had ceased. The gift of prophecy, and the concomitant gifts of tongues and interpretation of tongues, disappeared from the practice of the church except in a few cases, which were unanimously accompanied by doctrinal deviancies (Montanism, Paulicianism) that rendered those particular practices suspect even to modern continuationists.
  • Practical Theology
    • It’s no secret that the last few decades have seen continuationism move from Pentecostal and Charismatic groups to what we might call mainstream conservative evangelicalism. But that change has come with its own set of inconsistencies. Both John Piper and Wayne Grudem, for example, have had to argue that the very nature of prophecy has changed since biblical times and that modern “prophets” can be mistaken. I would argue that what Grudem has done is to find a modern phenomenon that isn’t prophecy, redefine prophecy so as to call the modern phenomenon prophecy, and then claim that the gift of prophecy therefore continues.

Which brings me to my friend’s third question.

What about Joel’s prediction, cited by Peter at Pentecost, that “in the last days” God would “pour out” his Spirit, and there would be a renewed outbreak of prophesying? I suspect that this passage has played a significant part in the continuationist thinking of Piper, Grudem, and their fellow travelers.

  • As I’ve noted before, I understand Scripture to say that God does not intend our interpretations of prophetic material to be reliable until the prophecy has been fulfilled, so I don’t think anybody—cessationist or continuationist—can be dogmatic on this point.
  • Some interpreters (e.g. E. J. Young) think that Joel’s entire prophecy was fulfilled at Pentecost, and others would say it was fulfilled at or before the destruction of Jerusalem in AD 70. I don’t find those approaches convincing, especially in light of Joel 2.30-31 // Ac 2.19-21.
  • So I hold out the possibility that in the runup to the Second Coming, there will be a new outpouring of the prophetic gift.
  • But as a pretribulationist, I also (tentatively) understand the Bible to teach that the church will have been removed by the time those gifts appear. Maybe I’m wrong about that.

In the meantime, we all should agree that the Scripture is the overriding authority, and that all of our mental impressions must be subordinated to it. We all should further agree that the Scripture we have is sufficient to direct and inform our relationship with God and our service for him in the days he’s given us. And if that is the case, then the expression “the Lord told me” should mean precisely nothing to the hearer.

Tip o’ the hat to my friend, whose insightful questions prompted all this.

Next time, we’ll consider some ramifications.

Part 3

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Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: biblical theology, Hebrews, special revelation, systematic theology

How God Speaks, Part 1

November 25, 2019 by Dan Olinger 2 Comments

We’ve all heard people say that God “told them” something.

Most of the time, they’re wrong.

I’m not saying that God can’t interact with our thought processes or, as some folks say, “lay [something] on my heart.” The Spirit who indwells us interacts with us all the time, convicting, teaching, directing, influencing our thinking and our actions.

But that’s very different from saying that God speaks to you, in your head.

I’d like to spend a post or two examining why I hit the off switch when someone tells me that God spoke to him.

As always, to evaluate this claim we have to go to the Scripture—which is replete with cases of God speaking to people.

God speaks all the time—

  • He speaks throughout the biblical timeline, from the very First Day—“Let there be light!” (Gen 1.3) to the very end of the very last biblical book to be written, 60 or more years after the death of Christ—“Surely I am coming soon!” (Rev 22.20).
  • He speaks on all sorts of occasions—
    • Both formal (in his throne room, Is 6.8) and informal (while Gideon was threshing wheat, Judg 6.14)
    • Both happy (the baptism of Jesus, Mt 3.17) and unhappy (Elijah in the wilderness, 1K 19.9)
    • Both to encourage (to Paul in prison, Ac 18.10) and to condemn (to the king of Babylon, Isa 14.4-23)
  • He speaks in all different sorts of ways—
    • In one-on-one conversations
      • With Adam (Gen 2.16-17)
      • With Noah (Gen 6.13ff)
      • With Abram, in the door of his tent (Gen 18.20ff)
    • To people who are sleeping, in their dreams
      • To Jacob, of the staircase (Gen 28.12ff)
      • To Joseph, of his brothers bowing down to him (Gen 37.5ff)
      • To Pharaoh, of the coming famine (Gen 41.1ff)
      • To Nebuchadnezzar, of the coming kingdoms (Dan 2.1ff)
      • To Joseph the carpenter, of Mary’s pregnancy (Mt 1.20)
    • To people who are awake, in visions
      • To Abram, concerning his offspring (Gen 15.1)
      • To the boy Samuel, concerning the death of Eli (1S 3.1-15)
      • To Nathan the prophet, about David’s future son (2S 7.4-17)
      • To Ezekiel, about the judgment and restoration of Judah (Ezk 1.1)
      • To Paul, about heaven (2Co 12.1ff)
    • In an audible voice
      • A loud one, from Sinai, to the people of Israel (Ex 19.16-20)
      • A normal one, to Hagar, when she ran away from Sarai (Gen 16.11-13)
      • A quiet one, to Elijah, alone in the wilderness (1K 19.12)
    • Through representations of his presence
      • A burning bush (Ex 3.1ff)
      • A pillar of fire (Ex 13.21)
      • A glory cloud—which may have been the same as the pillar of fire (Ex 40.34)
      • Urim and Thummim—whatever they were (Ex 28.30)
      • A whirlwind (Job 38.1ff)
      • An asterism (Mt 2.2)
  • He speaks to all different sorts of people—
    • Prophets, throughout both Testaments
    • Wise men, such as Solomon, as in Proverbs
    • Rulers, such as Nebuchadnezzar, as noted above
    • Ordinary people
      • A little boy sleeping in the Tabernacle (1S 3.2ff)
      • A peasant woman in a nondescript village (Lk 1.26ff)
      • A shepherd on the west side of the desert (Ex 3.1ff)
    • And even a donkey! (Num 22.23ff)

So why am I suspicious of people who claim that he has spoken to them today?

Because the same Bible that tells us of all these past revelatory acts of God has also told us that things have changed:

Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, 2 but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son (Heb 1.1-2).

The writer of Hebrews, whoever she was ( :-) ), first notes what I’ve delineated extensively above: that God has spoken in many times, in many ways, through many different people.

But, the author says, things are different now.

Now God has spoken through his Son.

This passage is structured as a contrast: God’s revelation used to happen a certain way, but it doesn’t happen that way anymore. Today, God has spoken in Christ.

In Part 2, we’ll talk about how we’re supposed to hear today what he has spoken, and I’m going to try to convince you that the new way is better than the old way—by a lot.

See you then.

Part 2 | Part 3

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Filed Under: Bible, Theology Tagged With: biblical theology, Hebrews, special revelation, systematic theology