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Contents Editor's Page ................................................................................................................................. 1 The Inheritance of the Cosmic Kingdom in Galatians 3:15–4:7 Miguel Echevarria ................................................................................................................... 2 Expressing Emotion in Poetry: Grief and Recovery Donald T. Williams ............................................................................................................... 18 Preaching on Paul’s Discussion of the Lord’s Supper in 1 Corinthians 11:17–34 Mark Owens………………………………………………………………………….............25 Navigating the Spiritual Gifts Debate: Cessationism, Continuationism, or Neither? Jonathan Ransom .................................................................................................................. 33 Reformation, Apocalypticism, and Revolution:The Complicated Exchange between Martin Luther and the German Peasants, and Implications for Modern Civil Unrest Matthew Kasper .................................................................................................................... 42 Lightning and the Lord: Why William Rowe’s Argument from Natural Evil Fails Doug Taylor ........................................................................................................................... 60 Book Reviews ............................................................................................................................. 90 Ronald E. Osborn. Death Before the Fall: Biblical Literalism and the Problem of Animal Suffering. Reviewed by Adam Howell ............................................................................................... 91 John H. Walton. The Lost World of Adam and Eve: Genesis 2-3 and the Human Origins Debate. Reviewed by Richard C. McDonald ................................................................................... 94 Michael Reeves. Rejoicing In Christ. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2015. Pp. 135. Reviewed by Dustin Mathews ........................................................................................... 96 Chadwick Thornhill. The Chosen People: Election, Paul, and Second Temple Judaism. Reviewed by Tim Skinner .................................................................................................... 98 John Goldingay. Do We Need the New Testament? Letting the Old Testament Speak for Itself. Reviewed by Joshua Stewart ............................................................................................. 101 Submission Guidelines, Luther Rice Journal of Christian Studies ................................... 104 Submission Guidelines for Book Reviews ............................................................................ 108
Luther Rice Journal of Christian Studies Spring 2016
Editor's Page James Kinnebrew, General Editor Welcome to the inaugural issue of The Luther Rice Journal of Christian Studies! This journal takes the place of our former publication, The Journal of Biblical Ministry and broadens the scope of subject matter beyond that of vocational ministry. Its mission is “To instruct and edify Christian leaders through scholarly articles and practical essays relevant to life and ministry.� I believe you will find it both edifying and enjoyable. We have been blessed to have an abundance of friends and faculty contribute several fine articles to this issue, as a look in the Table of Contents will confirm. Rather than preview each one, I would like to just express my appreciation to each contributor and to a busy and dedicated editorial and advisory board, whose names appear at the front of this journal. These dear friends have been relentless in their pursuit of quality and excellence as they have sought out (and written) articles and reviews for your edification. The fruit of their labors will speak for itself. Please give us your feedback and suggestions for future articles and features. We want to be as useful to you as we can be.
Faithfully,
J.M. Kinnebrew J. M. Kinnebrew, Ph.D. General Editor
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The Inheritance of the Cosmic Kingdom in Galatians 3:15–4:7 by Miguel Echevarria Galatians 3:15–4:7 is rich in OT allusions. Chief among these are the stories of the inheritance promised to Abraham’s offspring and Israel’s exodus from Egypt. In this article, I will argue that Paul interacts with the texts of such stories to underscore that believers in Christ are the true heirs of the promises, inheriting a kingdom that stretches beyond the original borders of Canaan to encompass the entire cosmos. Like the Israelites, believers will not receive their inheritance until they complete the Spirit-led new exodus. Looking at the OT texts which Paul cites and alludes to will be crucial for my argument, for he never explicitly defines the content of the inheritance.1 As well, he never says that the inheritance has any relation to a worldwide kingdom. The OT texts with which Paul interacts would have been part of the scriptural matrix of Paul and his readers. Only by peering into this interpretive framework can we see that Paul envisions that Christians will inherit a worldwide kingdom. Regarding the structure, scholars normally interpret Galatians 3:15–4:7 in terms of explanation (3:15–29) and illustration (4:1–7). That is, they argue that in 3:15–29 Paul explains that the inheritance is only received by faith, and in 4:1–7 he illustrates what he means by employing an example from the Greco-Roman legal custom of guardianship.2 I see no difficulty in discussing this passage in terms of explanation and illustration. My contention is that the illustration is not from the Greco-Roman world, but a typological one from the OT: the exodus from Egypt. Paul employs this story to clarify that believers will not receive their inheritance until they complete the new exodus sojourn. In order to prove my argument, I will show that in 3:15–29 Paul interacts with several
Miguel Echevarria, Ph.D. is Assistant Professor of Christian Ministries at University of Mobile. This article is a condensed and revised version of chapter 6 of his dissertation, “The Future Inheritance of Land in the Pauline Epistles” (Ph.D. diss., The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, 2014). 1 I follow Richard
Hays’s explanation of the relationship between quotation/direct citation, allusion, and echo: “Quotation, allusion, and echo may be seen as points along a spectrum of intertextual reference, moving from the explicit to the subliminal. As we move farther away from overt citation, the source recedes into the discursive distance, the intertextual relations become less determinate, and the demand on the reader’s listening power grows greater (Echoes of Scripture in the Letters of Paul [New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1989], 23). In this paper, I will only address direct citations and allusions. Thomas Schreiner, Galatians (ZECNT; Grand Rapids: Baker, 2010), 218, argues that in 4:1–7 “Paul provides here an illustration from everyday life regarding the reception of the inheritance.” Similarly, Richard Longenecker, Galatians (WBC; Waco, TX: Word, 1990), 161, argues that “Paul illustrates what he means in 4:1– 7 by using the analogy of a son growing up in a patrician household; James Dunn, The Epistle to the Galatians (BNTC; London: A & C Black, 1993; reprt., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2002), 161: “Having given a quick sketch of salvation history Paul hastens to draw the appropriate lessons in the face of the crisis presented to him in Galatia.” 2
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OT passages to explain that Christ is the promised Davidic King who will inherit the world to come. Those who place their faith in Christ are fellow-heirs of his cosmic kingdom. Then, in 4:1–7 I will contend that Paul brings to mind the exodus story to illustrate that believers will receive their inheritance when they complete the new exodus journey. Galatians 3:15–29: Explanation Before observing Galatians 3:15–29, it is important to note that 3:14 sums up the entire argument about the Spirit that begins in 3:2.3 Here, Paul asserts that “the blessing of Abraham” (ἡ εὐλογία τοῦ Ἀβραάμ) is fulfilled in the reception of “the promise of the Spirit” (τὴν ἐπαγγελίαν τοῦ πνεύματος, 3:14). Paul therefore proclaims that the Spirit is the blessing promised in Genesis (12:1–3, 15:1–21).4 This is the case even though there is no explicit mentioning of the Spirit in the Abrahamic covenant promises.5 Paul does not make a new revelation in identifying the Spirit as the blessing of Abraham. Instead, he echoes what is already proclaimed in Isaiah 44:3: I will pour out my Spirit on your seed ()אֶצ ֹּק רּוחִי עַל־ז ְַרעֶָך And my blessing upon your descendants ()ּוב ְִרכָתִ י עַל־ ֶצ ֱא ָצאֶיָך The parallelism of these phrases identifies the “Spirit” (ַ )רּוחas the “blessing” ()ב ְָּרכָה, which is what Paul affirms in Galatians 3:14.6 Also like Isaiah 44:3, in Galatians 3:14 Paul pairs two clauses to make his point: ἵνα εἰς τὰ ἔθνη ἡ εὐλογία τοῦ Ἀβραὰμ γένηται ἐν Χριστῷ Ἰησοῦ, ἵνα τὴν ἐπαγγελίαν τοῦ πνεύματος λάβωμεν διὰ τῆς πίστεως. 3
Hays, Echoes, 110.
Hays rightly explains that the “hermeneutical function of the Spirit is to generate an inspired reading that discloses the secret truth to which the story of Abraham points: God will grant the eschatological Spirit to a community of gentiles, who will thereby become recognizable as Abraham’s true offspring” (ibid., 111). I would add that the eschatological Spirit is also given to believing Jews, so that people from all nations might become members of Abraham’s family and heirs of the land, fulfilling the promise of universal blessing. 4
5
Schreiner, Galatians, 218.
This parallelism is also noted by J. Alec Motyer, Isaiah: An Introduction and Commentary (TOTC; Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 1999), 276. The LXX also follows this parallelism: 6
ἐπιθήσωτὸ πνεῦμά μου ἐπὶ τὸ σπέρμα σου καὶ τὰς εὐλογίας μου ἐπὶ τὰ τέκνα σου. Note how πνεῦμά is parallel to εὐλογίας, identifying the spirit as the blessing.
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The second ἵνα clause explains that the “blessing” (εὐλογία) of Abraham is the promised “Spirit” (πνεῦμα). This construction is similar to the way in which Isaiah 44:3 parallels two clauses to make the same assertion. Even though there is no exact citation of Isaiah 44:3 in Galatians 3:14, Paul clearly depends and interacts with the text of Isaiah. Paul, then, as Isaiah, affirms that the Spirit is the fulfillment of the promise of blessing to Abraham—a promise that extends to the nations (εἰς τὰ ἔθνη) in Christ Jesus (ἐν Χριστῷ Ἰησοῦ, Gal 3:14). With this in mind, I now shift to Paul’s inheritance argument in Galatians 3:15–18. The inheritance, like the blessing, is a promise of the Abrahamic covenant (Gen 12:1–3, 15:1–21). So Paul transitions from one Abrahamic covenant promise in 3:13–14 to another in 3:15–29. He does so by employing the vocative Ἀδελφοί (Brothers) at the inception of 3:15 (as he does elsewhere, 1:11, 4:12, 5:13, 6:1) to indicate the beginning of a new section.7 The use of the vocative specifies a transition from the discussion about the blessing of the Spirit in 3:13–14 to a new, but related, topic—the inheritance in 3:15–29. We should not make the error of infusing Paul’s discussion of blessing into that of the inheritance. 8 Doing so will lead to a fundamental misunderstanding of Paul’s argument. At the inception of his inheritance argument, Paul says that “the previously ratified covenant (διαθήκη) may neither be annulled nor altered by any means” (3:15).9 The 7
Longenecker, Galatians, 126.
8 Some
examples are F. F. Bruce, The Epistle to the Galatians (NIGTC; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 171–73; Ronald Fung, The Epistle to the Galatians (NICNT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1988), 155, 165; S. Lewis Johnson, Jr., “Once in Custody Now in Christ: An Exposition of Galatians 3:23– 29,” EmJ 13, no. 2 (2004): 211; Frank Matera, Galatians (Sacra Pagina; Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2007), 126; Dieter Betz, Galatians (Hermeneia; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1979), 156; Sam K. Williams, “Promise in Galatians: A Reading of Paul’s Reading of Scripture,” JBL 107, no. 4 (1988). Some scholars believe διαθήκη should be translated as “will/testament” in 3:15, rather than covenant, based on three main reasons. (1) The noun διαθήκη is commonly understood as a “will/testament” in Classical literature (e.g., Plato, Laws 923c–d). (2) Since Paul uses a human analogy (Ἀδελφοί, κατὰ ἄνθρωπον λέγω), διαθήκη should be understood as having a secular sense, rather than its distinctly biblical sense of covenant (Betz, Galatians, 154–45; Matera, Galatians,126; Johannes Behm and Gottfried Quell, “διαθήκη,” TDNT, 2:128). (3) There is familiar legal terminology associated with a last “will and testament” in Gal 3:15. In particular, Paul’s use of the verb ἀθετέω, which refers to “the annulling of a will” (LSJ, 31), and ἐπιδιατάσσομαι, which refers to “the adding of a codicil” (BDAG, 370). Nevertheless, those who contend that διαθήκη should be understood as “covenant” have the weight of the evidence in their favor. (1) Just because Paul introduces an illustration from everyday life, does not mean that διαθήκη must be understood as “will/testament.” Paul makes an argument from the lesser to the greater, i.e., what is true of a lesser “covenant” (Gal 3:15) is all the more the case with a greater one (Gal 3:17; Schreiner, Galatians, 226; Scott Hahn, “Covenant, Oath, and the Aqedah: διαθήκη in Galatians 3:15–18,” CBQ 67 [2005]: 88). Legal terminology may be used with both “wills/testaments” and “covenants” (Hahn, “Covenant, Oath, and the Aqedah”: 87; Schreiner, Galatians, 227). So the legal terms ἀθετέω and ἐπιδιατάσσομαι do not restrict the sense of διαθήκη to a secular “will.” (3) Paul, like the LXX, consistently 9
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covenant in view is the Abrahamic covenant, for in 3:16 Paul says that “the promises were spoken to Abraham and his seed.” Although the plural term ἐπαγγελίαι (promises) seems to point to all that God swore to Abraham—land, seed, and blessing (Gen 12:1–3, Gen 15:1– 19)—the remainder of verse 16 suggests that Paul has a more specific promise in mind. Paul goes on to say that the promises were not spoken to multiple offspring, but to one offspring, one “seed” (σπέρμα). To substantiate his point, he cites verbatim the words καὶ τῷ σπέρματί σου (“and to your seed”), which suggest that there is a single beneficiary in view. The promises to which the beneficiary is heir may be identified by considering the context of the citation καὶ τῷ σπέρματί σου. Throughout Genesis, the LXX embeds this citation whenever the promise of land is made to the descendants of Abraham. Genesis 13:15, 17:8, and 24:7 will illustrate this point: Gen 13:15: πᾶσαν τὴν γῆν ἣν σὺ ὁρᾷς σοὶ δώσω αὐτὴν καὶ τῷ σπέρματί σου Gen 17:8: καὶ δώσω σοι καὶ τῷ σπέρματί σου μετὰ σὲ τὴν γῆν Gen 24:7: κύριος ὁ θεὸς τοῦ οὐρανοῦ καὶ ὁ θεὸς τῆς γῆς…ὤμοσέν μοι λέγων Σοὶ δώσω τὴν γῆν ταύτην καὶ τῷ σπέρματί σου In each of these passages, the words καὶ τῷ σπέρματί σου are used when the land is sworn to Abraham’s offspring.10 The context of these passages makes this assertion indisputable. Also, since the words καὶ τῷ σπέρματί σου strongly point to the promise of land in Genesis, Paul’s quotation is deeply rooted in this intertextual tradition. Paul’s citation thereby follows an established OT pattern that points to the land promised to Abraham’s offspring. For further clarity, it is important to note that the OT commonly refers to the land as the inheritance of God’s people. This idea is apparent in passages such as Genesis 15:7, in which God tells Abraham that he will gather him from the region of the Chaldeans that “he might inherit (κληρονομῆσαι) the land,” and in Genesis 28:4, in which Isaac prays that God may bless Jacob so that “he might inherit (κληρονομῆσαι) the land.” Even in contexts employs διαθήκη with the sense of “covenant” (Hahn, “Covenant, Oath, and the Aqedah,” 80–81; Behm and Quell, “διαθήκη,” TDNT, 2:107; see Rom 9:4; 11:27; 1 Cor 11:25; Gal 3:17; 4:24; Eph 4:12). (4) As opposed to a “testament,” there are several examples in the OT where a “covenant” between persons was considered to be indissoluble, as in Gal 3:15 and 18 (So Schreiner, Galatians, 227; see Gen 21:22–32; 26:26–31; 31:44–45; 1 Sam 18:3; 20:8; 22:8; 23:18; 2 Sam 3:12). (5) Since Gal 3:17 refers to the Abrahamic covenant, the context seems to indicate that διαθήκη in 3:15 should be rendered as “covenant” (ibid.).While it is possible that Paul moves from an idea of “will/testament” in 3:15 to a “covenant” in 3:17, “it is more likely that he retains the same term throughout, instead of requiring his readers to switch back and forth between ‘will’ and ‘covenant’” (ibid.). These arguments suggest that there is more warrant for rendering διαθήκη in Gal 3:15 as “covenant” rather than “will/testament.” 10 The LXX uses τῷ σπέρματί ὑμῶν elsewhere in the Pentateuch (e.g., Exod 33:1; Deut 34:4) to indicate that the land is promised to God’s people.
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where it is not called the inheritance, the land is still recognized as “the inheritance of Israel because it was passed down to Abraham’s descendants by the promise.”11 This is the same territory that the prophets, such as Isaiah, “reaffirm [as] the land which God promised to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob [as] the inheritance of their descendants.”12 More accurately, then, Paul’s citation in Galatians 3:16 may be said to refer to the “land inheritance” promised to Abraham’s offspring. Since some scholars infuse the promise blessing into that of inheritance, I will now show that the former follows a different intertextual pattern than that of the latter. Examples of the pattern pertaining to the promise of blessing are found in Genesis 22:18 and Sirach 44:21. Genesis 22:18 states, “All the nations of the earth will be blessed ἐν τῷ σπέρματί σου (in your seed)” (cf. Gen 26:4). Sirach 44:21 says, “Because of this, he [the Lord] assured him with an oath that the nations would be blessed ἐν τῷ σπέρματί σου.” In these passages, the prepositional phrase ἐν τῷ σπέρματί affirms that the promise of blessing would come to the nations “in Abraham’s seed.” In Galatians 3:14, Paul follows this pattern in saying that the blessing of Abraham (i.e., the Spirit) comes “to the gentiles ἐν Χριστῷ Ἰησοῦ (in Christ Jesus).” He employs the prepositional phrase ἐν Χριστῷ Ἰησοῦ to correspond to ἐν σπέρματι in Genesis 22:18 and Sirach 44:21, clarifying the one through whom the blessing comes. I illustrate this point below: Gen 22:18: καὶ ἐνευλογηθήσονται ἐν τῷ σπέρματί σου πάντα τὰ ἔθνη τῆς γῆς Sir 44:21: διὰ τοῦτο ἐν ὅρκῳ ἔστησεν αὐτῷ ἐνευλογηθῆναι ἔθνη ἐν σπέρματι αὐτοῦ Gal 3:14: ἵνα εἰς τὰ ἔθνη ἡ εὐλογία τοῦ Ἀβραὰμ γένηται ἐν Χριστῷ Ἰησοῦ Thus, Paul employs ἐν Χριστῷ Ἰησοῦ in place of ἐν σπέρματι to specify that the one through whom the blessing of the Holy Spirit comes to the nations is “Christ Jesus.” In view of these observations, the quotation of the phrase καὶ τῷ σπέρματί σου in Galatians 3:16, rather than prepositional phrases ἐν σπέρματι (Gen 22:18; Sir 44:21) or ἐν Χριστῷ Ἰησοῦ (Gal 3:15), signifies that the inheritance of land is in view in 3:15–18. This verbatim citation, along with the new section in 3:15, strongly points to the fact that Paul transitions from the promise of blessing in 3:13–14 to the promise of a land inheritance in 3:15–18. Therefore, the plural term ἐπαγγελίαι in Galatians 3:16 points to the various occasions in which the land was promised to Abraham’s offspring (Gen 12:7; 13:15; 15:18; James Hester, Paul’s Concept of Inheritance: A Contribution to the Understanding of Heilsgeschichte (London: Oliver & Boyd, 1968), 24. 11
12 Ibid., 25. See
also Paul R. Williamson, “Promise and Fulfillment: The Territorial Inheritance,” in The Land of Promise: Biblical, Theological, and Contemporary Perspectives (eds. Philip Johnston and Peter Walker; Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 2000), 15–34. For an overview of the inheritance theme in the OT, see my “The Future Inheritance of Land in the Pauline Epistles,” 30–79.
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26:3; 28:13–15; 35:9–12; 46:4; cf. Pss. Sol. 12:6). The question we must now ask is, “Who is Abraham’s offspring?” The Offspring of Abraham Paul cuts right to the chase, using the term Χριστός to narrow the offspring of Abraham and the heir of the promises of land to one individual, “Christ.”13 His narrowing down of the heir strongly echoes the thought of 2 Samuel 7:12–14, which limits the seed (σπέρμα) of David, who will reign in the land, to God’s kingly son. Since David is Abraham’s descendent (e.g., Ps 89:3–4; Matt 1:1–6), his royal offspring is also the seed of Abraham. The narrowing of the heir also echoes Psalm 2:6–8, which limits the heir of the land to one individual, God’s kingly son. The notions of kingship and sonship in this passage imply that, like 2 Samuel 7:12–14, God’s royal son is ultimately the descendent of Abraham. The fact that both 2 Samuel 7:10–12 and Psalm 2:6–8 narrow the heir of the land to God’s son, Abraham’s offspring, provides valid warrant for claiming that Paul alludes to these passages.14 Paul’s use of the term Χριστός carries an added significance. The LXX uses Χριστός to translate the Hebrew noun ַשיח ִׁ ( ָמe.g., Lev 4:3, 5, 16), meaning “Messiah.” The Messiah is the anticipated Davidic king who will rule over Israel in the coming age (e.g., Num 24:17–19; 2 Sam 2:5; Dan 9:25–26; Rev 20–22). 15 The royal Psalms clarify that this event will take place in the future (e.g., Ps 2; 20; 21; 28; 45; 72; 89; 101). Several texts at Qumran (4QDibHam N. T. Wright, The Climax of the Covenant: Christ and the Law in Pauline Theology (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1991), 163–68, seems to rely on the collective use of σπέρμα in 3:29 to argue that the singular σπέρμα in 3:16 is collective and refers to the idea that “in Christ all the people of God” are summed up into one family (ibid., 174). Andrew Das, Paul, the Law, and the Covenant (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2001), 73, rightly argues that “the natural reading of the text is an emphatic singular in contrast to the plural (or collective) seed…Wright proposes that Jesus is the Messiah who sums up all Israel in himself and thereby rescues the possibility of a collective ‘seed’ here. The reading seems entirely forced and depends on Wright’s understanding of Jesus as Israel’s Messiah in other Pauline texts. The crucial difference to Wright’s theory is that he must read the text backward from Gal 3:29. On a sequential reading of the text, there is nothing to indicate a collective sense in 3:16. On the contrary, it is only in v. 29 that Christians are incorporated into the one seed.” 13
I quote each of these passages for comparison. 2 Sam 7:12–14: “And I will appoint a place for my people Israel and will plant them, so that they may dwell in their own place and be disturbed no more…Moreover, the Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house…I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come from your body, and I will establish his kingdom” (ESV). Ps 2:6–8: “‘As for me, I have set my King on Zion, my holy hill.’ I will tell of the decree: The Lord said to me, ‘You are my Son; today I have begotten you. Ask of me, and I will make the nations your heritage, and the ends of the earth your possession’” (ESV). Each of these passages clearly narrows the heir to one individual, God’s royal offspring, an intertextual pattern which Paul seems to follow. 14
15 N. T.
Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996), 486–89. See 2 Sam 7; Ps 20:7; Isa 9:1–6; 11:1–9; Jer 30:9; 33:14–26.
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[=4Q504] 3:4–7; 4Q246 2:1) even assert that God’s royal son in 2 Samuel 7 and Psalm 2—the very texts to which Paul alludes in Galatians 3:16—is the anticipated Messiah. In addition, 4 Ezra 7:28–29 states that God’s messianic son “will arise from the line of David” (cf. 4 Ezra 12:32). Lastly, Psalms of Solomon 17:21–46 expresses the expectation that David’s son will become king and restore the fortunes of Israel. Verse 32 of this passage explicitly states that “their king shall be xριστὸς κύριος.” Against this background, Paul’s use of Χριστός also carries the messianic expectation of a king from David’s lineage who will reign in the land.16 What is more, the reverberation of Psalm 2:6–8 in Galatians 3:16 brings to light that the inheritance of Christ has been expanded beyond the borders of the original promised land (Canaan) to include the entire coming world. This point is evidenced in that Psalm 2:8 declares that the nations are the Davidic king’s “inheritance” ([ נ ֲחלָהMT]; κληρονομία [LXX]) and the ends of the earth are his “possession” ([ ֲא ֻחזָהMT]; κατάσχεσίς [LXX]). As a result, it is evident that Christ, the long awaited Davidic king, will rule over a worldwide inheritance.17 The theme of inheritance in Galatians 3:15–17 may therefore be most accurately described as the worldwide kingdom over which Christ will rule, simply described as the “cosmic kingdom.” Later in Galatians 3:18, Paul explains that the inheritance (κληρονομία) cannot be obtained by observing the Law’s demands, for it is a gift of the Abrahamic covenant. Paul’s use of the term κληρονομία— which commonly refers to the land inheritance in the LXX, both in the Pentateuch, such as in Exodus 6:8 and Numbers 33:53, and later when the land has been expanded in passages such as Psalm 2 and Isaiah 54—confirms that the inheritance concept is the focus of this passage. 18 In view of the echo of Psalm 2:6–8 in Galatians 3:16, I have warrant to assume that the term κληρονομία points to the inheritance of a future worldwide kingdom. This is the cosmic kingdom, as Paul argues, that rightly belongs to Christ. The focus on the inheritance in 3:15–18 sets the tone for the remainder of chapter 3, which will continue to draw attention to this promise and show how all those who are in 16 One of the clearest passages in the NT that identifies Χριστός as the Son of God, i.e., the long awaited Messiah, is found in Peter’s proclamation in Matt 16:16 (cf. Matt 8:29, 14:33). David L. Turner, Matthew (BECNT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 404, argues that Peter’s proclamation echoes 2 Sam 7:10–12 and Ps 2:6–8. Another possible echo for Peter’s confession is 1 Chr 17:13. 17
The expansion of the land promise is also evident in Isa 54; 65–66.
κληρονομία is commonly use to translate “words of the stem ( ”י ָרשW. Foerster and J. Herrmann, “κληρονομέω,” TDNT, 3:769). This word, along with κληρονομέω and κληρονόμος, is used in the LXX for rendering Old Testament inheritance terms. See also Johannes Eichler, “Inheritance, Lot, Portion,” NIDNTT 2:298; LSJ, 959–60. 18
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Christ are fellow-heirs of the kingdom in the coming world. Also, since there are no other promises mentioned in the remainder of chapter 3, the term ἐπαγγελία (3:22, 29) continues to point to the promises of the inheritance of the cosmic kingdom. Fellow-Heirs of the World In Galatians 3:19-29, Paul discusses how others become heirs of the worldwide kingdom promised to Christ. He begins in 3:19 by arguing that the Law remained in force until the “seed” for whom the promises were made, whom he has already identified as Christ, arrived on the scene. The fact that Christ originally came to the unredeemed earth suggests that he has not yet received his inheritance. Passages such as 2 Samuel 7 and Psalm 2, which will be fulfilled in Revelation 21-22, point to a time when the curse of sin will be lifted and Christ will rule physically over a redeemed earth. Such a time will not come about until, as Daniel 7:13 claims, the Son of Man comes on the clouds to receive his everlasting dominion. So although Christ is “already” reigning at the right hand of God (Mark 16:9, Acts 7:55), he has “yet” to rule over an earthly inheritance.19 This sense of the inheritance is consistent with Paul’s argument in Romans 4:13–25 and 8:14–25, in which he envisions the inheritance of the future eschatological world, and is also in line with passages such as 2 Peter 3:13 and Revelation 21-22, in which the inheritance is envisioned to be the “new heavens and new earth.” So when Christ at last reigns over the coming world, the promised inheritance to Abraham’s offspring will be realized. With this in mind, in Galatians 3:21 Paul goes on to specify that others become beneficiaries of the promised inheritance “by faith in Jesus Christ” (ἐκ πίστεως Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ).20 He continues to assert this point in the remainder of chapter 3 by testifying that 19 I do see
an already-not-yet tension in the reign of Christ. Christ is “already” reigning, but he is “not yet” reigning physically on the earth. The inheritance is the fulfillment of the earthly reign of Christ, i.e., the “not yet” aspect of the kingdom. An extensive discussion of the πίστεως Χριστοῦ debate is beyond the scope of this article. I will, however, offer a concise treatment of the subjective and objective genitive interpretations of πίστεως Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ in Galatians 3:21. Scholars who prefer the subjective interpretation argue that this phrase refers to “the faithfulness of Jesus Christ” (Dan Wallace, Greek Grammar: Beyond the Basics [Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996], 116), generally maintaining that the phrase is a reference to Jesus’ faithfulness to give his life on the cross. Some even take this as evidence of his covenant faithfulness which rectified the unfaithfulness of Israel (N. T. Wright, Justification: God’s Plan & Paul’s Vision [Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 2009], 122–36.). A reference to Christ’s self-giving death—whether one decides to draw out the covenantal implications or not—seems to make theological sense and may even be seen as the equivalent to Gal 1:4: “who gave himself for our sins in order that he might deliver us from this present evil age, according to the will of God our Father” (Dunn, Galatians, 195). As well, subjective genitive proponents maintain that the substantival participle τοῖς πιστεύουσιν communicates the need for faith (Wright, Justification, 122–36). This idea may be represented in the following manner: “the promise, by means of Jesus’ faithfulness, is given to those who believe,” avoiding the sense of redundancy that may be noted in the objective genitive reading—“the promise, by means of faith in Jesus Christ, is given to those who believe”—which makes two references to faith in the same sentence. 20
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believers are now “sons of God” (υἱοὶ θεοῦ) and recipients of the promise through faith in Christ Jesus in verse 26, and by stating that by faith believers also belong to Christ and are counted as “the seed of Abraham” (τοῦ Ἀβραὰμ σπέρμα) and “heirs in accord with the promise” (κατ’ ἐπαγγελίαν κληρονόμοι) in verse 29.21 Thus, it is through Christ, the original successor of the promised inheritance (3:16), that people become members of Abraham’s family and fellow-heirs. Although the promised has yet to be fulfilled, the heirs anticipate the day when they will dwell in the world over which Christ will physically reign (e.g., 1 Cor 15:50–57; Rev 20–22). Another important point is that Galatians 3:22–29, like verse 16, alludes to the thought of Psalm 2, except that in this case it is even stronger. Psalms 2:6–8 asserts that God’s son, the Davidic king, will inherit the entire earth.22 After that, Psalm 2:12 affirms that those who refuse to honor God’s kingly son will perish, while those who seek refuge “in him” (בוֹ [MT]; ἐπ᾽ αὐτῷ [LXX]) will be blessed. This verse thereby suggests that those who fail to Scholars who favor the objective interpretation take πίστεως Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ to refer to “faith in Jesus Christ” (Dunn, Galatians, 195; Ronald Fung, Galatians, 164–65; Betz, Galatians, 175), taking this phrase to be a reference to faith in the death and resurrection of Christ. Such a reading seems in line with Paul’s emphasis on the significance of faith in Christ as opposed to observance of the Law in 3:21–29 (So Schreiner, Galatians, 244). In addition, those who argue for an objective genitive reading claim that the participle τοῖς πιστεύουσιν—after Paul has already noted the need for faith in Christ in the phrase πίστεως Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ—serves to emphasize that the promise is obtained by faith in Christ, not by the Law. Such repetition was not uncommon to Greek writers. Authors from the Homeric to the Hellenistic period used repetition as a valuable rhetorical device for the sake of emphasis (see P. E. Pickering, “Did the Greek Ear Detect Careless Verbal Repetitions,” CQ 53 (2003): 490–99; P. E. Easterling, “Repetition in Sophocles,” Hermes 101 (1973): 14–34). Hence, Paul’s reiteration of terms would have been recognized by a Greek speaker as an attempt to accentuate his point—the importance of faith in Christ. Of the two readings, the objective genitive is the best option, for Paul, in Gal 3:21–22, desires to emphasize faith in Christ as the means by which one receives the inheritance. This is evidenced in the way he employs repetition to stress his point. Those who are inclined to reject the objective reading on account of linguistic redundancy miss the point of Paul’s rhetorical style. See the discussion in Yon-Gyong Kwon, Eschatology in Galatians (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004), 125–27. In arguing that believers—which admittedly at this point are composed of mainly Gentiles—are heirs of the promises to Abraham, I do not wish to suggest that there is no hope for ethnic Israel. Such a position would negate Paul’s argument in Rom 9–11. My outlook on the future for Israel is line with the excellent work of John M. G. Barclay, Paul and the Gift (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015). Concerning Rom 9–11, Barclay argues that “the success of the Gentile mission signals for Paul the spreading impact of ‘wealth,’ which will return to its home when Israel is restored by faith in Christ to the ‘root’ of God’s unconditional mercy (11:30– 32). From start (9:6–8) to finish (11:30–32), Israel is constituted by a calling that bears no relation to its worth— and into this distinctly Israelite privilege, Gentiles are also drawn into this indiscriminate grace” (ibid., 556– 57). He goes on to say that “the incongruity of grace gives Paul confidence to look beyond the ‘disobedience’ of Israel, since the God who called this people without regard to their desert wills to overcome their ‘impiety’ by his world-embracing mercy” (ibid., 557). 21
22 See Peter C. Craigie, Psalms 1–50 (WBC; Dallas: Word, 2004), 68–69, who contends that Psalm 2 points to the Davidic king’s worldwide rule in Revelation (e.g., Ps 1:5; 12:5; 19:5).
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honor the Davidic king will be destroyed and will have no prospect of living under his rule. Similarly, Galatians 3:22–29 insinuates that those who reject Christ, the long awaited Davidic king, will not inherit the world. This idea is even clearer in comparing the language of the Psalmist and Paul. The Psalmist speaks of finding refuge “in him” ([ בוֹMT]; ἐπ᾽ αὐτῷ [LXX]), that is, the King, in Psalm 2:12, and Paul speaks of trusting “in Christ Jesus” (ἐν Χριστῷ Ἰησοῦ) in Galatians 3:26 and 28. Since both the King in Psalm 2:12 and Christ Jesus in Galatians 3:26 and 28 are the same person—the long awaited Davidic ruler—the words “in him” in the former passage and “in Christ Jesus” in the latter bring to light that the hope of inheriting the world is found only by trusting in King Jesus. Furthermore, the presence of Psalm 2 strengthens the idea that Galatians 3:15–29 presents the inheritance as the cosmic kingdom promised to God’s son. Only those who place their faith in Christ Jesus, the king to whom honor is due, will also receive such an inheritance. But those who reject his rule have no hope of dwelling in the kingdom over which he will exercise his full dominion. So although in Galatians 3:15–29 Paul does not specifically define the content of the inheritance, the reverberations of passages such as 2 Samuel 7 and Psalm 2 suggest that he envisions that Abraham’s offspring, Christ Jesus and his loyal subjects, will inherit a kingdom that stretches from one side of the world to the other. There is certainly no need for Paul to overtly make this claim, for the passages to which he alludes, or directly cites, are those which would have been part of the matrix of texts that bring to mind that the inheritance is grounded in the promise of land that has come to encompass the kingdom in the coming world. Galatians 4:1-7: Typological Illustration After revealing the heirs of the kingdom, Paul now puts things into perspective for his readers. In Galatians 4:1–7, he illustrates that although believers are the promised heirs, they will not receive the worldwide kingdom until they complete the new exodus journey. Thus, Paul gives his readers the following perspective: “The inheritance has been promised to you. But you do not yet possess it. You must complete the present new exodus sojourn, with all of its trials and tribulations, until you at last enter the world over which Christ will reign.” In spite of the apparent exodus context, scholars often argue that the Greco-Roman legal custom of guardianship is the background to Galatians 4:1–2. According to this custom, the paterfamilias appoints one or more guardians for his children who are entitled to inherit his property after his death. Though he is legally the lord of all, as a minor he is no different from a slave. Hanz Deiter Betz contends that the analogy between the slave
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and the minor is one of appearance only and should be taken with a grain of salt.23 Consequently, if a better reading suits the context, it should be preferred. James M. Scott offers that better reading. Scott argues that Galatians 4:1–2 should be read in light of the story of the exodus.24 Since the exodus story culminates with Israel’s entry into the land (e.g., Exod 3:7–8), such a background fits well with Paul’s inheritance argument in Galatians 3:15–4:7. Being a Jew immersed in the Old Testament, an appeal to the exodus tradition would not have been strange to Paul. As Sylvia Keesmaat argues, In the scriptural writings there is a tradition which links the promise to Abraham [the inheritance] with the exodus event. Notable texts are Exod. 2.24; 3.25–26; 6:2–9; and Ps. 105.42, where God declares that he will come to save the people because he has remembered his covenant with Abraham…These texts contributed heavily to the intertextual matrix upon which Paul was drawing.25 Keesmaat’s explanation shows that it is more likely that Galatians 4:1–2 echoes the exodus tradition, which culminates with the entrance into the land, than the Greco-Roman legal custom of guardianship. Being persuaded by this argument, I will show that 4:1–2 follows Israel’s original exodus story. This then sets up a parallel with the new exodus story in 4:3–7, which culminates when God’s people inherit the kingdom in the coming world. Original Exodus Paul begins his illustration by asserting that while the “heir” (κληρονόμος) of a father’s land is a minor, he is no different from a slave, “even though he is the lord of all (κύριος πάντων)” (4:1) James Dunn points out that the “idea of the (Jewish) child as ‘lord of Betz’s comments are worth quoting in full: “The illustration itself is not without difficulties. Certainly it was taken from legal practices as it was known to Paul and his readers. Paul refers to the practice in Roman law called tutela testamentaria (‘guardianship established by testament’). According to this institution the paterfamilias appoints one or more guardians for his children who are entitled to inherit his property after his death. During the period of time in which the heir (ὁ κληρονόμος) is a minor (νήπιός) he is potentially the legal owner (κύριος) of the inheritance, but he is for the time being prevented from disposing of it. Although he is legally (potentially) the owner of all, he appears not to be different from a slave (οὐδὲν διαφέρει δούλου). To be sure, this comparison must be taken cum granu salis. The similarity between the minor and the slave is one of appearance only” (Galatians, 203). I first noted this citation in Rodrigo Morales, “The Spirit and the Restoration of Israel: New Exodus and New Creation Motifs in Galatians” (Ph.D. diss., Duke Divinity School, 2007), 160. 23
James M. Scott, Adoption as Sons of God: An Exegetical Investigation into the Background of ΥΙΟΘΕΖΙΑ in the Pauline Corpus (WUNT 48; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1992), 121–86. 24
25 Silvia Keesmaat, Paul and His Story: (Re)Interpreting the Exodus Tradition (JSNT 81; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1999), 177.
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all’ may well reflect and affirm the tradition already well-established which interpreted the land promised to Abraham as the whole earth.”26 Similarly, Scott, pointing to such passages as Sirach 44:19-23, argues that the phrase “lord of all” carries the notion of “universal sovereignty.”27 That is to say, the people of Israel were considered “lords of the entire earth.” Paul’s argument that the “heir is the lord of all” thereby echoes the Jewish idea that Israel’s departure from Egypt was intended to culminate in the inheritance of the world.28 Since Jewish tradition held that Israel was the heir of the world, it is best to see the term κληρονόμος as a reference to Israel.29 Although destined to receive the inheritance, the remainder of Galatians 4:1 notes that there was a time when Israel was considered a minor. Such a designation, as Scott argues, “alludes to Hosea 11.1, where, in a unique way in the LXX, the term refers to God’s people as ‘young’ at the time of the Exodus when God called Israel out of Egypt as his ‘son.’”30 Yet as long as the Israelites remained under bondage, they were no better than a slave (Gal 4:1). Galatians 4:2 notes that Israel remained in this state “until the appointed time (τῆς προθεσμίας) of the father.” This phrase likely echoes Genesis 15:13, in which God informs Abraham that his descendants will be sojourners and strangers in a foreign land where “they will be afflicted for four-hundred years.” Scott notes that “after this verse follows the promise of the exodus in Genesis 15:14–16 and the land in Genesis 15:18–21 which … was associated with Israel’s eschatological hope of world rule.”31 The period of 400 years in Genesis 15:13 could therefore point to “an appointed time” in Israel’s history. Accordingly, in Galatians 4:2 Paul likely alludes to the time that Israel was a slave in Egypt until the “appointed” 400 years came to an end. After considering the entire illustration in Galatians 4:1–2, it is apparent that Paul alludes to the series of Jewish texts that make up the exodus story, which present the Israelites as the rightful lords of the world who were enslaved under Egyptian rule (Gal 4:1). While in slavery, the people of Israel were subject to the authority of Egypt’s officials and overseers (Gal 4:2). This lasted until the appointed time of 400 years was up (Gal 4:2), 26
Dunn, Galatians, 211.
27
Scott, Adoption as Sons, 131–35.
See Martin A. Halvorson-Taylor, Enduring Exile: The Metaphorization of Exile in the Hebrew Bible (VTSup; Leiden, Netherlands: Brill, 2011), who examines the pervasive tradition of continuing exile in the OT. 28
29
Morales, “The Spirit and the Restoration of Israel,” 165.
30
Ibid.
31
Scott, Adoption as Sons, 142.
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at which point commenced the sojourn to the cosmic land where Abraham’s offspring would be a kingdom (cf. Exod 19:6). New Exodus In Galatians 4:3, the words οὕτως καὶ ἡμεῖς (“thus also we”) set up a comparison between the original exodus in 4:1–2 and the new exodus 4:3–7.32 Paul then asserts, “When we were minors, we were enslaved under the elements of the world (τὰ στοιχεῖα τοῦ κόσμου).” Like the allusion to Israel in Galatians 4:1, Paul’s readers were once also “minors” and “enslaved” under a ruthless taskmaster. While Israel was enslaved to Egypt, believers were enslaved to the elements (τὰ στοιχεῖα) during the jurisdiction of the Law.33 Paul continues his comparison in Galatians 4:4 by asserting that his readers remained enslaved minors until “the fullness of the time (τὸ πλήρωμα τοῦ χρόνου) came.” “The fullness of the time” is a common theme in Jewish literature. In particular, texts such as 2 Baruch 29:8, Tobit 14:5, and Jeremiah 36:10 (LXX) affirm that it refers to “a date that God set beforehand.”34 The phrase “fullness of the time” in verse 4 thereby stands parallel to “the appointed time of the father” in verse 2, “the date which God had foreordained to Abraham that Israel would be delivered from bondage to Egypt.”35 Therefore, it is likely that Galatians 4:4 refers to the time when God brought to an end the period of slavery for believers, as he did for Israel in Galatians 4:2. Moreover, in Galatians 5:5 the “fullness of the time” came to pass when “God sent forth his Son, having been born from a woman, having been born under the Law.” The sending of the Son—the Messiah—fits well with the exodus story. Jewish tradition, stemming from Deuteronomy 15:15–18, evidences that “the Messiah would be a second Moses who would redeem his people from oppression.”36 Christ as a second Moses is also 32 Scott points out the uses of οὕτως καὶ ἡμεῖς in typological arguments in Matt 12:40, 24:37, 39; John 3:14; Rom 5:12, 18, 19; 1 Cor 15:22 (ibid., 150). Also, in this formula of comparison the pronoun ἡμεῖς refers to both Jews and Gentiles. Agreeing with Schreiner, Galatians, 267: “‘We’ (ἡμεῖς) could be restricted to the Jews, but since Paul speaks of the world’s elements, he probably includes both Jews and Gentiles.” Contra Scott Hafemann, “Paul and the Exile of Israel in Galatians 3–4,” in Exile: Old Testament, Jewish, and Christian Conceptions (ed. James Scott; Leiden: Brill, 1997), 340–41, who argues that Paul only has Jews in mind. 33 Schreiner,
Galatians, 269. The στοιχεῖα may refer to a number of elements that ruled over humanity before the coming of Christ, such as demonic powers. For a survey of the possible interpretations, see again Schreiner (ibid., 267–69). 34
Scott, Adoption as Sons, 162.
35
Ibid., 142.
36
Ibid.,164.
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found in Gospel texts such as Matthew 2:5, which asserts that Jesus, like Moses, was called out of Egypt (cf. Mark 9:7; Hos 11:1). Christ as a second Moses is supported by the NT and “coheres extremely well with contemporary Jewish expectation concerning God’s new act of salvation, in which a new Moses was expected to inaugurate a new exodus event.”37 It also suits the new exodus typology of Galatians 4:3–7, in that Christ is the new Moses whom God sent to deliver his people out of bondage to the Law (cf. Gal 3:23–29). This point is supported in the final clause of Galatians 4:5, in which Paul asserts that God sent his son “in order that he might redeem those under the Law.” Like Moses, Christ redeemed his people from slavery. While Moses redeemed Israel from slavery under Egypt, Christ redeemed his people from slavery under the Law (cf. Gal 3:13). Christ is therefore the second Moses who delivered his people from slavery. Also like Moses, Christ freed his people in order that they may one day inherit the world over which he will reign. Furthermore, those whom Christ has rescued from bondage under the Law are “adopted as sons” (υἱοθεσίαν, Rom 8:15, 23; 9:4; Eph 1:5).38 At the appointed time in salvation history, God sent Christ to redeem both Jews and Gentiles to be his people. When understood in the context of the new exodus, it is clear that just as Israel, the heir to the Abrahamic promise of land, was redeemed as God’s son from slavery in Egypt at the time specified by the Father (Gen 15:13; Ex 4:22; Hos 11:1), so too believers were adopted as sons from slavery under the Law “at the fullness of time and thereby became heirs to the Abrahamic promise.”39 Paul’s readers, then, having been delivered from bondage, are now sons of God destined to inherit the worldwide kingdom.40 In Galatians 4:6–7, Paul will now highlight the role of the Spirit in assuring that God’s people complete their new exodus journey and inherit the cosmic kingdom promised to them.
37
Keesmaat, Paul and His Story, 162–63.
38 The term υἱοθεσία has received much attention. I will only offer these brief comments. BDAG, 1024, notes that υἱοθεσία is a legal term “of adoption of children … in Paul, only in a transcendent filial relationship between God and humans (with the legal aspect, not gender specificity, as major semantic component.” In Gal 4:5, the term is used “of those who believe in Christ and are accepted as his children” (ibid.). For an excellent study of this term, see Scott’s Adoption as Sons. 39
Scott, Adoption as Sons, 268.
40 Keesmaat, Paul and His Story, 178–79, insightfully asserts: “It was in the exodus narrative that Israel was first called God’s son; in recollection of the new exodus that such an identification was reinterpreted; in hope for a new exodus event that this sonship expected.” See Exod 4:22; Deut 14:32; Hos 2:2 (LXX); Isa 43:5–7; Jer 38: 9–20; Jub. 1:24–25, noted by Keesmaat (ibid., 179).
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The Spirit’s Role in the New Exodus In Galatians 4:6, Paul says that “God has sent the Spirit (τὸ πνεῦμα)” into the hearts of those who are “sons” (υἱοί). Then, in 4:7 he asserts that the result of receiving the Spirit is that the one who is a “son” (υἱός) is also an “heir” (κληρονόμος) of the inheritance promised to Abraham. Paul’s mentioning of the “sending of the Spirit” in the context of the exodus story alludes to the role of the Spirit in this tradition. Though not immediately apparent in the narrative of the Pentateuch, the later reflection of the Prophets, as in Isaiah 63:11–14 and Nehemiah 9:9–25, testifies that in the original exodus the Spirit was the one who lead the people out of Egypt, through the wilderness, and into the land. Like the original exodus, the new exodus tradition in passages such as Psalm 142:10 and Isaiah 63:11-15 promises that the Spirit will lead God’s people on a new and better exodus. Paul also points to this tradition when he mentions God’s people being “led by the Spirit” in the inheritance related passages of Romans 8:14 and Galatians 5:18. Such observations strongly suggest that Paul’s reference to the “sending of the Spirit” in the new exodus context of Galatians 4:6–7 means that he is bringing to mind that the Spirit is currently leading the sons of God through the wilderness of the present sinful age (Acts 7:30–44; Heb 3:7–11; 1 Pet 2:11–12) until they inherit the kingdom in the coming world (Rev 21). The Spirit is thereby the guarantee that believers will receive their inheritance (Eph 1:13–14). Having considered the entirety of Galatians 4:1–7, the comparison between the original exodus in Galatians 4:1–2 and the new exodus in 4:3–7 is now clear. Just as Israel in the exodus story was redeemed as God’s son from slavery in Egypt and was led by the cloud to the inheritance (Gal 4:1–2), so too believers on the new exodus have been adopted as sons from slavery under the Law and are being led by the Spirit through the present sinful wilderness until they inherit the world to come (Gal 4:3–7). The original exodus was therefore a type of the present exodus of which both Jews and Gentiles in Christ are privileged to take part, one that will at last culminate when they dwell in Christ’s cosmic kingdom. Conclusion In this article, I have shown that in Galatians 3:15–4:7 Paul explains that believers are the beneficiaries of the cosmic inheritance promised Abraham’s offspring. Though not yet in their possession, Paul illustrates that they, like the Israelites, will receive their inheritance when they complete the Spirit-led new exodus. The fact that Paul does not explicitly define the content of the inheritance presents no unsurmountable obstacle to my thesis. Considering the OT texts that shape Paul’s interpretive framework illumines for us that in Galatians 3:15–4:7 Paul envisions that Abraham’s offspring—those who have placed their faith in Christ Jesus—will inherit a
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cosmic kingdom. Texts such as Romans 8:12–30 and Revelation 21–22 (cf. Ezek 37) bring to light that the completion of the new exodus and entry into the inheritance will occur at the resurrection. This will be the time when the curse of sin will be lifted and Christ will reign with his people on the renewed earth. In short, the realization of the promised inheritance is the time when Messiah will reign on his throne, the earth will be renewed, and God’s people will dwell in peace forever. Paul makes certain that his readers understand that believers in Christ Jesus are the heirs of this good hope.
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Expressing Emotion in Poetry: Grief and Recovery in Psalm 6 by Donald T. Williams I According to Wordsworth in his "Preface" to Lyrical Ballads, poetry by definition is "the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings" which "takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility."1 Well, Pope might have quibbled about the spontaneity, noting that "True ease in Writing comes from Art, not chance, / As those move easiest who have learned to dance."2 And he might also have wondered at the focus on emotion at the expense of "What oft was Thought, but ne'er so well exprest, / Something, whose Truth convinced at Sight we find, / That gives us back the image of the mind."3 So gargantuan a task it is to categorize a phenomenon so protean as Poetry, that those who attempt to do so run the risk of being contradicted by all the other blind men who happen to be holding onto another part of this indescribably vast Elephant. There is a real Elephant, with a truly elephantine nature, for all that; and it really is like a wall, as long as we do not forget the tree, the spear, the rope, the fan, and the snake. One of Poetry's many functions then is to lend itself to the expression of emotion in ways that are more intense than is typical of prose. And one at least of the ways that it does so is suggested by Archibald MacLeish.4

Donald T. Williams, Ph.D. is R. A. Forrest Scholar and Professor of English at Toccoa Falls College.
1
Russell Noyes, ed., English Romantic Poetry and Prose (NY: Oxford Univ. Pr., 1956), p. 365.
2
Alexander Pope, The Poems of Alexander Pope, ed. John Butt (New Haven: Yale Univ. Pr., 1963), p.
3
Ibid., p. 153.
155.
50-51.
4 Archibald MacLeish,
The Collected Poems of Archibald MacLeish (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1962), pp.
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Ars Poetica A poem should be palpable and mute As a globed fruit, Dumb As old medallions to the thumb, Silent as the sleeve-worn stone Of casement ledges where the moss has grown-A poem should be wordless As the flight of birds. * A poem should be motionless in time As the moon climbs, Leaving, as the moon releases Twig by twig the night-entangled trees, Leaving, as the moon behind the winter leaves, Memory by memory the mind-A poem should be motionless in time As the moon climbs * A poem should be equal to: Not true. For all the history of grief An empty doorway and a maple leaf. For love The leaning grasses and two lights above the sea-A poem should not mean But be.
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What is MacLeish saying? He presents us with a series of statements about poetry that seem at first simply to be nonsense. A poem that was mute, dumb, or silent, for example, would be no poem at all, for poetry is an oral art form. In every century before the Twentieth, poetry demanded to be intoned, chanted, or sung--or at least recited. And a poem that was wordless would also be no poem at all, for poetry is a verbal art form. An object that made use of neither surface, line, color, nor texture might be interesting, but one could hardly call it a painting. Nor can a poem be motionless in time. To be heard (or even read), it must progress from one phoneme, one word, to another, from the opening line to the last syllable of recorded sound. And as for meaning versus being . . . well; the prosaic might be excused if they simply shrugged their shoulders and walked away. Nevertheless, there is a method to MacLeish's rhetorical madness. How, the persistent reader is led to ask, should a poem be mute, silent, dumb, wordless, or motionless? And then we notice the parallel structure in which each assertion is stated in the form of a paradoxical simile. Each simile, moreover, has as its vehicle a concrete sensory image. The poem is mute the way a globed fruit is palpable; the way, that is, in which its shape, weight, and texture nestle into one's hand. The combination of visual with tactile imagery continues as the poem is dumb the way an old medallion feels to the thumb. Complex emotional associations are added next through romantically-tinged connotations, accruing as silently as moss on casement ledges. And then auditory imagery jumps in, making our hearts leap as wordlessly as the whirr of wings from a suddenly spooked flock of quail. MacLeish is saying by doing what Robert Frost had stated more prosaically: Poetry is "saying one thing and meaning another, saying one thing in terms of another." 5 Thus, MacLeish presents the two emotions that appear in his poem, grief and love, in terms of concretely realized pictures. Grief is conveyed by an empty doorway and a maple leaf, love by leaning grass and lights above the sea. And he explains how grief and love are related to these pictures with his cryptic statement that a poem should be "equal to, not true." Equal to what? Presumably, to grief or love or globed fruit or flying birds. Well, this is another paradox: a poem about grief is not the same thing as sorrow, nor one about love the same thing as devotion. A poem cannot be literally "equal to" any more than it can be wordless. But there was a truth in the lie that a poem could be wordless, and that same kind of truth appears again here. A poem cannot literally "be" grief or love, nor equivalent to them; it perforce must be a statement that "means" something "true." In what sense then is a poem true? One hopes it is a true statement about something. We need to supply that Robert Frost, "The Figure a Poem Makes," 1939; rpt. in Selected Prose of Robert Frost, ed. Hyde Cox and Edward Connery Lathem. (N.Y.: Collier, 1968), p. 24. 5
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preposition about to match its sister preposition to: true about versus equal to. A poem can't be literally wordless, but it should, if it is to be true about the flight of birds, use words that convey the rush of those wings so vividly that we are not conscious of reading words but only of the object: the unavoidable words are virtually lost in the whir of wings. In the same way, a poem cannot be literally equal to grief or love, but it should be true about them in such a way that we are not conscious so much of reading words as only of the object: the unavoidable words are lost in the tears of loss or the heart throb of affection. The poem cannot really avoid being true about (except by being false, and hence not a true poem)--but it should seem equal to if it is to be effective at being affective poetically. The way the poem achieves this seeming is through metaphor and concrete imagery. MacLeish suggests a plausible scenario. Perhaps the empty doorway is the one out of which the lover went, never to return. And perhaps she did so in autumn. And then one pauses years later before that doorway with the leaf blowing across it and the full poignancy of the original grief comes back in force. So we do not tell the reader that "the man was sad because he thought of his lost love." We park the reader in front of that doorway and let him get the impact of that blowing leaf, carried by its associations, even as the character in the poem would if it were really happening. Perhaps the waving grasses are in the dunes by the beach on which the two lovers walked with the beams of the lighthouses stabbing through the darkness. Perhaps you can provide another scenario. It does not matter. What matters is that we use concrete words in such a way that they convey the same emotional associations that the concrete things they image do in life: globed fruit, casement ledges, old medallions. And it matters not whether the imagery is visual, tactile, auditory, or even olfactory. Have you never been transported back to your mother's kitchen in your childhood by the smell of bacon frying? Poetry conveys emotion by tapping into the mind's propensity to form associations between emotions, memories, and concrete experiences. And so we come to understand the last dyad of "Ars Poetica": "A poem should not mean / But be." "Mean" is parallel to "true about," "be" to "equal to." The poem cannot avoid meaning, but by the use of concrete imagery it means in such a way as to seem to do more: to be. Rather than simply making a statement about emotion, it recreates it by means of the magic of concrete imagery and metaphor. II How well does this analysis of modern English poetry apply to Hebrew poetry in the biblical text? Let's take a look at Psalm 6.
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Psalm 6 To the Choirmaster: With Stringed Instruments: According to the Sheminith A Psalm of David O LORD, rebuke me not in your anger Nor discipline me in your wrath. Be gracious unto me, O LORD, for I am languishing; Heal me O LORD, for my bones are troubled. My soul also is greatly troubled. But you, O LORD--how long? Turn O LORD, deliver my life; Save me for the sake of your steadfast love, For in death there is no remembrance of you; In Sheol who will give you praise? I am weary with my moaning; Every night I flood my bed with my tears; I drench my couch with my weeping. My eye wastes away because of my grief; It grows weak because of all my foes. Depart from me, all you workers of evil, For the LORD has heard the sound of my weeping. The LORD has heard my plea; The LORD accepts my prayer. All my enemies shall be ashamed and greatly troubled; They shall turn back and be put to shame in a moment. (ESV) Hebrew poetry (like English) of course does much more than simply express emotion; it also asserts propositions, makes promises, describes, utters praise and lament, etc. But like all poetry, it is a medium in which intense emotion is often communicated. Also,
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Hebrew poetry is providentially the most translatable poetry on the planet. It depends on the rhyming of ideas rather than sounds, the repetition of thoughts rather than meters, to create its prose-transcending structures. Thus the translator avoids the horrible dilemma of preserving either sound or sense, as they rarely can both be reproduced at the same time in a different tongue. But this "Hebrew Poetic Parallelism" does more than that. By its very nature it creates a rhythm of contemplation. By hearing every statement twice, in different terms--one statement "in terms of another"6--we are invited to pause and reflect on the potentialities of meaning and nuance, and we are simultaneously given space in which to do so. Often there are two key terms per statement, one pair of which is a simple set of synonyms so that attention is focused on the other pair, which interact in a more thought-provoking way. So anger is a synonym of wrath (v. 1), languishing of trouble (v. 2), death of Sheol (v. 5). These near equivalences invite us to meditate on the less obvious insights that rebuke disciplines (v. 1), grace heals (v. 2), and remembrance engenders praise (v. 5). These insightful pairs in Psalm 6 are embedded in the larger binary structure that compares grief and recovery from that grief across the whole poem. The psalmist's prayer carries him through the period of apparent abandonment, his petition for relief buttressed by descriptions of his distress and the argument that if he dies he will no longer be able to praise his Lord in Sheol (v. 5). Then, when his prayer is "heard," i.e., "accepted," the mood shifts suddenly and dramatically to one of exultation in triumph over his enemies. Now, these ideas in themselves are spiritually edifying; the way they are structured is intellectually satisfying. The role of emotion is to make them existentially compelling. To be effective as a poem as well as a prayer, the psalm must give the reader an opportunity to identify personally with the situation David is facing. He accomplishes this identification by means of images that convey the physical symptoms of emotional suffering. It is not the seemingly imminent triumph of his enemies but his apparent abandonment to them by the Lord that has him in such agony that his very "bones" are "troubled." His distress is unrelenting; he cannot let it go. It keeps him up at night. The central emotional image is that of the bed soaked with tears. Thus the reader is enabled to draw an analogy to his own experience, to compare David's grief with those griefs that have deprived the reader of his own sleep. And he knows that the crisis has passed when that imagery simply disappears. The shift in emotion from despair to confidence is signaled by the shift in focus from David's own inward feelings described in physiological terms to an outward view of his enemies as defeated ("Depart from me!") and of the Lord as having finally responded to his prayer. No explanation for the shift in mood is given; rather, the poem simply portrays the shift, which can only be attributed to the mystery of faith. 6
Cf. Frost.
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Just like MacLeish, David has used concrete words in such a way that they convey the same emotional associations that the concrete things they image do in life. For all the history of grief: blurred eyes and a tear-soaked mattress. For relief from that grief, in the form of recovered confidence that God cares: scattered enemies that are turned back and put to shame in a moment. The fact that this scattering is anticipated rather than observed makes a point about the emotional dynamics of doubt and faith that is not quite expressible in cold prose. In the context of the insightful parallels created by the structure of Hebrew poetry, this emotional identification through concrete imagery allows us not just to understand, but also vicariously to experience, the fact that during our own darkest moments we can hope for a like reversal. So David's prayer has not just "meant" grief and recovery through faith, but "been" that for us. And that, indeed, is what a poem should be.
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Preaching on Paul’s Discussion of the Lord’s Supper in 1 Corinthians 11:17–34 By Mark Owens In his introductory text on hermeneutics, “God-centered Biblical Interpretation,” V. Poythress creatively uses different imaginary characters (e.g., Peter Pietist, Marvin Marxist) to help guide his reader towards a better understanding of proper biblical interpretation.1 One such character is named Dottie Doctrinalist. Throughout Poythress’ text, Dottie Doctrinalist exhibits an intense interest in sound theology and views the Bible strictly as a repository of timeless propositional truth. While Dottie Doctrinalist technically only exists in Poythress’ imagination, her approach to Scripture seems alive and well within the evangelical Church. Scripture certainly should be read with a view to understanding its theological message. Nonetheless, Scripture must also be read and studied within its historical and literary contexts.2 The need to read and study the Bible within its historical and literary contexts becomes especially significant when one approaches a text like 1 Cor 11:17–34. If Dottie Doctrinalist did exist beyond Poythress’ imagination, one could safely assume that she would be extremely fascinated by Paul’s discussion of the Lord’s Supper in 1 Cor 11:17–34. Paul’s statements in 1 Cor 11:17–34 are rife with rich theology, particularly in v. 23–26, where Paul describes Jesus’ final meal with His disciples. Nonetheless, we have to remember that v. 23–26 are framed by v. 17–22 and v. 27–34. These two sections of 1 Cor 11:17–34 are significant because they explain the historical context that led Paul to pen v. 23–26 and present Paul’s instructions for dealing with the ethical crisis that has reared its ugly head in Corinth.3 Unfortunately, the Church today suffers when it (seemingly) skips over v. 17–22 and v. 27–34 as it rightly wrestles with such questions as “Who may partake of the Lord’s Supper?” and “What is the nature of Christ’s presence during the Lord’s Supper?” Such a reading of this passage, however, overemphasizes the theological scope of this text and seems to overlook the ethical ramifications of this text. The central issue Paul addresses in 1 Cor 11:17–34 is the division that was occurring when the Corinthian church celebrated the Lord’s Supper (v. 18). More specifically, the
Mark Owens, Ph.D. is Assistant Professor of New Testament at Luther Rice College & Seminary.
1
V. Poythress, God-centered Biblical Interpretation (Phillipsburg, NJ; Presbyterian & Reformed, 1999).
2 See
A. Kӧstenberger and R. Patterson (Invitation to Biblical Interpretation: Exploring the Hermeneutical Triad of History, Literature, and Theology [Grand Rapids: Kregel, 2011], 93–128) for a helpful discussion of the relationship between theology, history, and literature in the interpretation process. 3
See below for further discussion of the relationship between these three major sections of 1 Cor 11.
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Corinthian church was observing the Lord’s Supper in such a way that the rich were able to use the event as a means of flaunting their wealth (see v. 20–22). In an attempt to correct their abuse of the Lord’s Supper, Paul cites the “Last Supper” tradition from the Gospels (v. 23–26). In order to understand properly Paul’s statements within v. 23–26, we need to keep in mind that Paul is not specifically providing instruction on the Lord’s Supper, but instead is citing Jesus’ example from the Last Supper as a way of clarifying how the Corinthians are abusing the Lord’s Supper.4 In other words, 1 Cor 11:23–26 does not present a Pauline “Theology of the Lord’s Supper.” Instead, these verses present Paul’s response to a crisis within a local church. Structure 1 Cor 11:17–34 may be divided into three relatively tidy sections: 1) Paul’s description of the Corinthian abuse of the Lord’s Supper (v. 17–22); 2) Paul’s citation of the Last Supper tradition (v. 23–26); and 3) Paul’s solution to the Corinthian abuse of the Lord’s Supper (v. 27–34). Looking more closely at each of these sections, we may make the following broad observations about this passage: 1. Paul begins this passage with his own personal evaluation of the Corinthians’ observance of the Lord’s Supper in v. 17 (“In the following directives I have no praise for you, for your meetings do more harm than good”); 2. Paul then highlights his central concern in v. 18…the presence of divisions during the Lord’s Supper celebration; 3. In v. 19, Paul qualifies his statements in v. 18 by noting that there is a sense in which divisions will inevitably occur within the Church; 4. Paul then provides a detailed description of the abuse of the Lord’s Supper in Corinth (v. 20–21); 5. Paul then presents a series of rhetorical questions that highlight the inappropriate behavior of the rich believers in Corinth (v. 22); 6. Paul then reminds the reader of the Last Supper tradition (v. 23–25); 7. Paul next provides his reason for citing the Last Supper tradition and reminds the reader of the true significance of the Lord’s Supper (v. 26); 8. Paul then warns the Corinthians of the possible negative ramifications of their improper observance of the Lord’s Supper (v. 27); 9. Paul then provides his first solution to the Corinthian abuse of the Lord’s Supper (v. 28); 10. Paul then states the reason or rationale behind his prior instruction in v. 28 (see v. 29); 11. Paul then provides an explanation of his earlier warning in v. 27 (see v. 30–32); 12. Paul next presents his second solution to the Corinthian abuse of the Lord’s Supper (v. 33) 13. Finally, Paul concludes this passage by providing a third solution and again reminding the Corinthians of the danger of divine judgment (v. 34). D. Garland, 1 Corinthians (BECNT; Grand Rapids; Baker Academic, 2003), 534–34. Cf. R. Ciampa & B. Rosner, The First Letter to the Corinthians (PNTC; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 548. 4
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Literary Context This passage within 1 Corinthians occurs within a section of this epistle that focuses on addressing problems within the Corinthian church related to public worship (1 Cor 11:2– 14:40). Paul’s statement in 1 Cor 7:1 indicates that he is addressing problems he has become aware of by means of a letter from the Corinthian church (“Now for the matters you wrote about”). Paul has already briefly discussed the Lord’s Supper within his warning about idolatry and participation in pagan temple worship (1 Cor 10:16–17). Paul then addresses the Corinthians concern regarding proper attire during public worship in 1 Cor 11:2–16. Finally, Paul turns to dealing with the Corinthian abuse of the Lord’s Supper in 1 Cor 11:17. Important Interpretive Issues The first section within 1 Cor 11:17–34 (v. 17–22) primarily discusses how the Corinthian church is abusing the Lord’s Supper. Paul begins by noting that when the Corinthian church gathers, they “do more harm than good” (v. 17). Paul next makes it clear that the central reason their gatherings “do more harm than good” is because of the presence of divisions within the church (v. 18). We should also keep in mind that according to v. 19 some degree of division is only natural (“No doubt there have to be differences among you to show which of you have God's approval”). Paul here points to the reality that within any given local church, there will be some who genuinely believe and live as Christians and those who do not…Paul suggests that God will make it clear who has His approval and who does not.5 Paul, in fact, describes one of the ways God shows His approval in v. 30 (“That is why many among you are weak and sick, and a number of you have fallen asleep”). In v. 20–22, Paul specifically describes the social and theological crisis that is plaguing the Corinthian church. Paul suggests in v. 20–22 that the rich believers in the Corinthian church are engaging in lavish, private meals when they partake of the Lord’s Supper.6 1 Cor 11:21 is particularly important here as it gets to the heart of what is going on in Corinth. English translations struggle somewhat with v. 21, but the ESV is particularly helpful: “For in eating, each one goes ahead with his own meal. One goes hungry, another gets drunk” (emphasis added). The rich believers in Corinth were apparently eating their own private meals rather than sharing with the poor believers; therefore, the poor go hungry, while the rich get drunk.7 On the basis of Paul’s statements in v. 21 we can Cf. G. Fee, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (NICNT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987) 538–39; C. K. Barrett, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (HNTC; Rev. ed.; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1987), 261–62; J. Fitzmyer, First Corinthians: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB 32; New Haven: Yale University Press, 2008), 433. 5
6
Notice in v. 20 that Paul asserts the Corinthians are not actually celebrating the Lord’s Supper.
7 Cf. Ciampa
& Rosner, First Letter to the Corinthians, 545; Fitzmyer, First Corinthians, 435. At the same time, some scholars argue that the verb prolambanw actually means “devour” in v. 21 (e.g., Garland, 1
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therefore conclude that the crisis in the Corinthian church that Paul addresses in 1 Cor 11:17–34 is the practice of private meals during the Lord’s Supper celebration, a practice Paul suggests is unworthy of association with the Last Supper (v. 20).8 Within v. 23–26, Paul reminds the Corinthians of what happened at the Last Supper as a means of helping them correct their own abuse of the Lord’s Supper. It is helpful to explore v. 23–26 by focusing on the answers to two questions. First, “What does Paul state happened during the Last Supper?” Second, “How do Paul’s statements in v. 23–26 connect with the crisis in Corinth?” So what does Paul state happened during the Last Supper? We see from v. 23–24 that the Last Supper began with the taking of the bread (notice the phrase “took bread” at the end of v. 23).9 We also see from v. 25 that the Last Supper ended with the taking of the cup (notice the phrase, “he took the cup” in v. 25). We also see from v. 25 that between the bread and the cup, there was a supper (“after supper”). Scholars generally argue that the supper that was eaten was a Passover supper.10 This helps clarify what Jesus and His
Corinthians, 540–41). If these scholars are correct, v. 21 could then be translated, “For in eating, each one devours his own meal. One goes hungry, another gets drunk.” This rendering of the verb prolambanw is worthy of serious consideration. 8If
the verb prolambanw does mean something like “devour” in v. 21, this leads to a particularly problematic form of private meal in which wealthier Christians may have been partaking of their lavish meals in the presence of impoverished Christians. See Fee (First Epistle to the Corinthians, 540–41) for a summary of the three ways in which the problem of private meals in Corinth might be understood in 1 Cor 11:17–34. Paul begins in v. 23 by noting that he has received the traditions recorded in v. 23–26 “from the Lord.” Paul is not suggesting he has directly received these traditions from some sort of supernatural revelation from Christ; instead, he is suggesting that these traditions have been passed down to him from eyewitnesses to the Last Supper, which is as good as if these traditions actually came from the Lord. Cf. Fee, First Epistle to the Corinthians, 548–49. 9
E.g., A. Thiselton, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (NIGNTC; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), 871–74; Ciampa & Rosner, First Letter to the Corinthians, 30, 474–75; R. Routledge, “Passover and the Last Supper,” TynB 53 (2002): 203–204, 206). It is this Passover background that best clarifies Jesus’ statements, “This is my body” in 1 Cor 11:24. Unleavened bread plays an important role in the Passover meal within Jewish tradition (see Deut 16:3). During the celebration of the Passover supper, the host explains the various elements and the events surrounding the exodus from Egypt are recalled. This Passover context helps us understand Jesus’ statement, “This is my body” during the Last Supper meal (see Matt 26:26; Mark 14:22; Luke 22:19). The unleaven bread associated with the Passover ceremony is referred to as “the bread of affliction” in Deut 16:3 and is intended to remind the participant of the suffering the Israelites endured during their time in Egypt. Thus, when Jesus interprets the unleavened bread as his own body, he is subtly foreshadowing is sacrificial death for humanity. Jesus statement, “This is my body,” thereby does not refer to a metaphysical change in the bread (however that might be construed). Rather, it describes a change in God’s dealings with humanity within salvation-history, specifically, the inauguration of the new covenant and a greater Passover (cf. Thiselton, First Epistle to the Corinthians, 877; Fee, First Epistle to the Corinthians, 550; Barrett, First Epistle to the Corinthians, 266–67). Ultimately, the Last Supper traditions depict Jesus reinterpreting the Passover festival and implying that God was about to enact an act of redemption greater than the exodus from Egypt (cf. 1 Cor 10
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disciples mean in the Gospels when they speak of eating the Passover (e.g., Matt 26:17; Mark 14:12, 14). So how do Paul’s statements in v. 23–26 connect with the crisis in Corinth? First, while Paul does not state this, it is likely that he is reminding the Corinthians that there was no private meal when Jesus and the disciples celebrated the Passover during the Last Supper.11 In other words, everyone ate supper together during the Last Supper suggesting that there was no division among Christ and his disciples. This is clearly in contrast to how the Corinthians were observing the Lord’s Supper (see v. 18–22). Second, v. 23–26 describe the Lord’s Supper as a remembrance and proclamation of Christ’s death.12 The nature of the atonement is thus somehow related to the celebration of the Lord’s Supper. Within the context of 1 Cor 11:17–22, what is to be primarily remembered and proclaimed is that Christ died for all of humanity, not specific groups of humanity.13 All are equal at the foot of the cross and Paul is suggesting that in eating a private meal during the Lord’s Supper, the Corinthian church is behaving as if the rich have some sort of special privilege over and against the poor. In an effort to help the Corinthians address their abuse of the Lord’s Supper, Paul then gives three primary pieces of advice in v. 28, v. 33, and v. 34. But, before he offers this advice, Paul gives a warning in v. 27…“whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord.” The key phrase in v. 27 is “an unworthy manner.” The King James Version, unfortunately, translates v. 27, “Wherefore whosoever shall eat this bread, and drink this 5:7–8). Finally, Jesus’ statement, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood” should be understand along similar lines. 11
Garland, 1 Corinthians, 547, 549.
12 In terms of
the noun “remembrance” in v. 24, once again an awareness of the Passover background proves helpful. The recollection of the events surrounding the exodus from Egypt plays an important role in the instructions for observing the Passover festival in Deut 16:1–8 (see esp. v. 3). When linked with a festival that commemorates God’s deliverance of His people from Egypt, the verb “to remember” thus encompasses more than the mere remembering of facts. The verb “to remember” also likely encompasses a response of worship and gratitude for what God has done. This understanding of the verb “to remember” in Deut 16:3 finds support when one looks at other uses of this verb in the Old Testament (e.g., 1 Chron 16:8–14; Psa 22:27; 105:5). Furthermore, the concept of remembrance is often linked with a response of obedience to God (Exod 20:8; Lev 26:42; Deut 16:12). When Jesus’ statement, “do this in remembrance of me” is read in light of this Old Testament background, it suggests that Jesus is describing more than a morbid recalling of his suffering on our behalf and certainly more than a mere mental recollection of his death for our sins. Jesus is, rather, describing a celebratory response of worship, gratitude, and obedience (cf. Thiselton, First Epistle to the Corinthians, 553; A. Johnson, 1 Corinthians [IVPNTC; Downers Grove: IVP, 2004], 210). 13
Cf. Garland, 1 Corinthians, 548.
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cup of the Lord, unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord.” This translation has often been understood to mean that believers should ensure that their relationship with God is “worthy” of the elements.14 This has caused the Lord’s Supper to be an individual and self-absorbed experience, but this unfortunately goes against the grain of Paul’s message in this passage. Paul’s primary concern here in v. 27 is not with who may take the elements, but with how the elements are taken.15 According to Paul, the Lord’s Supper should be observed in a manner that highlights the unity of the Church. Once again, Paul’s first solution to the Corinthians’ abuse of the Lord’s Supper is found in v. 28. Here, Paul suggests that believers should first “examine” themselves. 16 What does Paul mean by the command “examine” here in v. 28? Essentially, believers are to consider carefully “their attitudes toward the body, how they are treating others, since the meal itself is a place of proclaiming the gospel”.17 There is a strong assumption of the Church’s unity running throughout this passage and Paul’s command here in v. 28 is probably calling upon believers to assess the degree to which they believe and behave as if the gospel is for all people.18 We cannot be certain what the believers in Corinth understood regarding the gospel, but we can see from 1 Cor 11:18, 20–21 that the believers in Corinth behaved as if poor disciples of Jesus Christ were essentially second-class Christians. It is practices like those described in v. 18, 20–21 that primarily come under the scrutiny of Paul’s command to “examine” in v. 28. There is, of course, a place for a general assessment and examination of one’s relationship with God prior to partaking of the Lord’s Supper. However, given the emphasis on disunity within 1 Cor 11:17–34, it is reasonable to conclude that “horizontal sins” (sins that involve one’s neighbor) should at the very least not be neglected during this process of examination.
14 E.g.,
J. Henry, In Remembrance of Me: A Manual on Observing the Lord’s Supper (Nashville: Broadman & Holman, 1998), 16; J. MacArthur, First Corinthians (Chicago: Moody, 1984), 273–74. 15
Cf. Fee, First Epistle to the Corinthians, 559–60.
16 The presence
of the singular pronoun “himself” (heauton) in v. 28 is noteworthy because it calls in to question the practice of “fencing the table” and closed communion. Paul’s use of the singular pronoun (rather than a plural pronoun) in v. 28 suggests that the act of examination is to be conducted by individual believers. This in turns suggests any action on the part of local congregations to determine the “worthiness” of an individual believer to receive the elements stands on questionable exegetical grounds (at least in terms of Paul’s statements in 1 Cor 11). 17
Cf. Fee, First Epistle to the Corinthians, 562; Ciampa & Rosner, First Letter to the Corinthians, 555.
Most scholars conclude that the noun “body” (sōma) in v. 29 refers to the universal Church. E.g., E. Earle Ellis, “Sōma in 1 Corinthians,” Int 44 (1990): 141; contra Johnson, 1 Corinthians, 210. 18
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Once again, Paul’s second solution to the Corinthian abuse of the Lord’s Supper is found in v. 33. According to most English translations, Paul is encouraging the Corinthian believers “to wait for each other” to begin eating the supper portion of the Lord’s Supper. Paul is thus encouraging the Corinthian church to abandon the practice of private meals that separate rich from poor and instead to wait for all believers to gather together to celebrate the Lord’s Supper.19 According to Ciampa & Rosner, Paul’s instruction in v. 33 may in fact, express the precise opposite of what is depicted in 1 Cor 11:21 (“each of you goes ahead without waiting for anybody else”).20 Ultimately, Paul is encouraging the rich believers in Corinth to live out the gospel by showing hospitality to their poorer brothers and sisters in Christ. With his third solution to the Corinthian abuse of the Lord’s Supper (see v. 34), Paul essentially exhorts the Corinthian believers not to view the Table as an opportunity to fill their bellies. The statement in v. 34, “if anyone is hungry, he should eat at home,” provides practical advice for believers that is intended to address the abuses of the Lord’s Supper described in v. 20–22. Furthermore, Paul’s counsel here in v. 34 draws upon his rehearsal of the events surrounding the Last Supper in v. 24–26. According to Paul, the private meals the rich believers are engaged in merely satisfy physical urges and needs rather than proclaiming the gospel of Jesus Christ and satisfying spiritual needs (see v. 20, 24–26). Since the Lord’s Supper in Corinth had essentially become a normal meal (and an opportunity to flaunt status and wealth for the rich), Paul urges the Corinthians to eat before the Lord’s Supper so that the focus of the Table shifts from the participants to the gospel and Jesus Christ. At the same time, Paul is not encouraging the wealthy believers in Corinth to gorge themselves before the Lord’s Supper. Such an action would miss the point of his second solution in v. 33 (“wait for each other,” with the implication of sharing food and enjoying fellowship together) and prevents the wealthy believers from living out the unity that has been achieved through the gospel. In summary, Paul offers three solutions to the Corinthian abuse of the Lord’s Supper: 1) evaluate your understanding of the gospel and ensure you realize it offers salvation to all people; 2) rich believers in Corinth should show hospitality to the poor believers by According to some scholars, Paul is not admonishing believers to “wait for” (ekdechesthe) other believers to gather before partaking of the Lord’s Supper. Instead, they argue that the verb ekdechomai in v. 33 should be translated “receive” (as in show hospitality). E.g., B. Winter, After Paul Left Corinth: The Influence of Secular Ethics and Social Change (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), 151–152; Fee, 1 Corinthians, 567–68; Garland, 1 Corinthians, 554–555. This interpretative question is actually related to (and somewhat dependent) upon the interpretation of the prolambanw in v. 21 (see above). If the wealthy Corinthians were in fact eating lavish private meals while poorer believers were present (either in the same room or in the house), then Paul would likely be encouraging the wealthy believers to “receive” (show hospitality) to poorer believers by sharing their food. 19
20
Ciampa & Rosner, First Letter to the Corinthians, 558.
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waiting for all believers to arrive before they begin celebrating at the Table; and 3) eat beforehand so that the focus of the Lord’s Supper is on the gospel and Jesus Christ, not on food and social status. Mistakes to Avoid 1. Overemphasizing theological debates regarding the nature of the Lord’s Supper. This passage was written to address a practical problem (division within the Corinthian church, see v. 18) related to the Lord’s Supper and this ethical concern should not be overlooked. 2. Failing to appreciate that this passage is primarily about the “body of Christ” gathered in worship rather than an individual believer’s relationship with God. While there is a place for self-examination during the Lord’s Supper, this passage focuses primarily on how believers are loving and treating one another. Application 1. 1 Cor 11:17–34 reminds us that the gospel of Jesus Christ is for all kinds of people (see v. 26–29). There is a strong emphasis on the unity of the Church within this passage (see v. 18, 29) and this passage reminds us today that the Lord’s Supper should reflect the unity of the Church (see v. 27–29, 33–34). To some degree, the emphasis on the unity of the Church in this text also calls into question the practice of closed communion. 2. 1 Cor 11:17–34 reminds us that the Lord’s Supper is primarily about the proclamation of the gospel (v. 24–26). The intense theological debates that have arisen from this passage unfortunately lose sight of the fact that Paul’s argument in this text depends on the link between the Last Supper and the Passover. The Lord’s Supper thus reminds us today of Jesus’ sacrificial death to deliver humanity from the power of sin and death. 3. 1 Cor 11:17–34 reminds us that God is concerned about the poor and downtrodden (v. 21–22, 33).21 The selfish treatment of the poor believers by rich believers is ultimately what gave rise to the writing of this text and believers today should ensure that they live out God’s concern for the poor and downtrodden (see v. 33– 34). 4. 1 Cor 11:17–34 reminds us that God punishes the disobedient (v. 29–34). While we need not conclude that every instance of suffering and hardship a believer experiences is the result of sin (see John 9:2–3), this passage nonetheless reminds us that God does punish and discipline believers because of their sin. While love for God should be our ultimate motivation for obedience, there is also a place for concluding that the fear of divine judgment should also spur believers on to submission to God.
21 One
could even argue that if God were not concerned for the poor and downtrodden then this text within 1 Corinthians would have never even been written.
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Navigating the Spiritual Gifts Debate: Cessationism, Continuationism, or Neither? By Jonathan Ransom Invariably, there are at least two sides to every argument. For proof, one must look no further than the government of the United States of America. The Democrats proffer their ideology as being most beneficial for the country’s citizens, and likewise the Republicans. Of course, thrown into this political melee are those that hold to a political theory that does not fit neatly within the mold of either of the two major parties. In a situation which loosely parallels the current national political mire, the modern-day Christian Church finds itself embroiled in a debate over whether or not there are still miraculous gifts of the Holy Spirit today. The two opposing positions are cessationism, which argues that there are no miraculous gifts of the Holy Spirit today, and continuationism, which argues that the miraculous gifts of the Holy Spirit have continued to the present day. The via media between these two extremes is the “open but cautious” view. Those who hold to this position “have not been convinced by the cessationist arguments that relegate certain gifts to the first century, but they are not really convinced by the doctrine or practice of those who emphasize such gifts today either.”1 Can this debate be settled definitively based upon scriptural and historical evidence? If so, which position is evidentially the best option? In this article, each of the two opposing positions will be evaluated separately based on scriptural and historical evidence. Subsequently, the open but cautious view will be evaluated based on the findings related to the cessationist and continuationist views. From the evaluation of the polar views of the issue in question and a subsequent comparison of these to the open but cautious view, the open but cautious view will be seen to be the most viable position to hold regarding the miraculous gifts of the Holy Spirit. Before proceeding, the term miraculous gifts must be clearly defined. Included in the four separate listings of spiritual gifts in the New Testament are at least twenty distinct gifts.2 John Stott defines these collectively as “certain capacities, bestowed by God’s grace and power, which fit people for specific and corresponding service.”3 Included with the twenty or so spiritual gifts are several miraculous or extraordinary gifts. For centuries, these
Jonathan Ransom is a student at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary
1
Wayne A. Grudem, ed., Are Miraculous Gifts for Today? (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1999), 12.
2
1 Cor 12:4–11, 28–31; Rom 12:3–8; Eph 4:7–12; 1 Pet 4:10–11.
3
John Stott, Baptism and Fullness: The Work of the Holy Spirit Today (Downers Grove: InterVarsity,
1976), 87.
33
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have been recognized as “gifts of healing, workings of miracles, prophecy, discerning of spirits, kinds of tongues, [and] the interpretation of tongues.”4 In 1 Corinthians 12–14, a central passage regarding spiritual gifts, Paul employs the term χαρίσματα (charismata) to reference this special group of gifts. “Paul describes as χαρίσματα the ecstatic phenomena at divine worship which are regarded as operations of the Spirit, notably speaking in tongues and prophecy.”5 However, for the purposes of this discussion, the term miraculous gifts shall be used exclusively. A central point of contention between cessationism and continuationism is the nature of the baptism of the Spirit. Since the overwhelming majority of New Testament teaching about the Holy Spirit looks to Pentecost, this discussion should begin there as well.6 Like Christ’s death and resurrection, Pentecost was a singular occurrence in the history of salvation.7 The “baptism of the Spirit” that was poured out on the Day of Pentecost was not only the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy (Joel 2:28–29) but also the climax of Christ’s ministry evidenced by baptism in Spirit and fire as foretold by John the Baptist in Luke’s gospel (3:16). “Pentecost, then,” states Gaffin, “is no more capable of being a repeatable paradigm event than are the other events [of Christ’s work of salvation].”8 Nevertheless, Paul points out that every believer does share in the “once-for-all event of Pentecost.”9 At the moment of conversion, every believer is baptized by one Spirit into one body, the body of Christ (1 Cor 12:12–13). Upon this basis, cessationists affirm that “the gift of the Holy Spirit is a universal Christian experience because it is an initial Christian experience. All Christians receive the Spirit at the very beginning of their Christian life.”10 In contrast to the cessationist view of the baptism of the Spirit as universal and initial, continuationists, including Pentecostals, declare that “Spirit baptism is distinct from and subsequent to salvation and evidenced by the gift of tongues.”11 According to this view, 4
Benjamin B. Warfield, Counterfeit Miracles (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1918), 5.
5
Hans Conzelmann, “χαρίσματα,” TDNT 9:404–05.
Richard B. Gaffin, Jr., “A Cessationist View,” in Are Miraculous Gifts for Today? ed. Wayne Grudem (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1999), 30. 6
7
Ibid., 31.
8
Gaffin, “A Cessationist View,” 33.
9
Ibid., 34.
10
Stott, Baptism and Fullness, 36.
Shane Clifton, "The Spirit and Doctrinal Development: A Functional Analysis of the Traditional Pentecostal Doctrine of the Baptism in the Holy Spirit," Pneuma: The Journal of the Society for Pentecostal Studies 29, no. 1 (Spring 2007): 5. 11
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those who received the baptism of the Spirit at Pentecost had been regenerated before Christ ascended; John 20:22 records the proposed rebirth.12 “In other words,” states Dunn, “Pentecost was a second experience subsequent to and distinct from their earlier ‘new birth’. As such it gives the pattern for all Christian experience thereafter. As the disciples were baptized in the Spirit at Pentecost, an experience subsequent to their ‘regeneration’, so may (and should) all Christians be baptized in the Spirit after their conversion.”13 Biblical support for the gift of tongues as initial evidence of baptism of the Spirit is gathered from the instances of glossolalia recorded in Acts. As author and theologian David Lim writes, “These biblical references are considered to be model events and hence normative.” 14 Furthermore, “The most common reason why this experience is considered normative is that it anoints and empowers the Christian for (more powerful) spiritual service.”15 Following the outpouring of the Spirit at Pentecost, the church was characterized by the manifestation of all of the spiritual gifts, including the miraculous gifts. 1 Corinthians 14 references the Corinthian church as especially gifted. Prominent nineteenth-century theologian B. B. Warfield commented that “the exception would be, not a church with, but a church without, such gifts…The Apostolic Church was characteristically a miracle working church.”16 However, the post-reformation era theologians, “a very clear-headed body of men,” held flatly to the belief that the miraculous gifts ceased at the end of the apostolic era based upon early Christian writings of the Church Fathers, but this consensus had eroded by the early eighteenth century.17 By this time, the prevailing opinion was that the miraculous gifts had continued until around the time of the Edict of Milan in 313, at which time they began to gradually decline as the church grew under the protection of Constantine.18 Very little scriptural support can be offered to bolster the historical evidence offered by Warfield and his cessationist predecessors.
James D. G. Dunn, Baptism in the Holy Spirit: A Re-examination of the New Testament on the Gift of the Spirit in relation to Pentecostalism Today (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1970), 38. 12
13
Ibid.
David S. Lim, "An Evangelical Critique of ‘Initial Evidence’ Doctrine," Asian Journal of Pentecostal Studies 1, no. 2 (July 1998): 25 14
15
Ibid., 221.
16
Warfield, Counterfeit Miracles, 5.
17
Ibid., 6.
18
Ibid.
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One passage often cited by cessationists and continuationists is 1 Corinthians 13:8–12. In these verses Paul continues the contrast he begins in verses 1–3 between love and the miraculous gifts. “Here,” as D. A. Carson points out, “the contrast turns on the fact that love is permanent, while the χαρίσματα (charismata) terminate.”19 The central debate, then, is not whether the miraculous gifts pass away or not; that issue is settled. The key exegetical issue lies in the meaning of the phrase “when that which is perfect has come” in verse 10. There are three strongly held interpretations of this phrase, two of which support the cessationist view.20 The first is that the ‘perfection’ Paul refers to is the maturity of the church or of individual believers.21 “If the Lord returned before Paul’s death, that would have brought the promised ‘maturity’ or ‘perfection’; if not, the completion of the canon and all the information the believer needs for spiritual maturity would bring about this ‘perfection’.”22 The second interpretation is that the ‘perfection’ is the completed canon of scripture itself.23 The continuationist belief that the miraculous gifts continue today finds its best scriptural support in 1 Corinthians 13:8–12. The continuationist interpretation, like that of the cessationists, revolves around the arrival of the ‘perfection’ Paul speaks of in verse 10. Paul defines this as a time when knowledge will be complete and perception will no longer be clouded. The third interpretation, held by the majority and the continuationists, is that this conversion from imperfection to perfection looks forward to one unique event, the return of the Lord.24 Assuming the validity of this interpretation, “there is nothing in this passage to preclude a valid gift of tongues or prophecy today.”25 In spite of the plethora of issues remaining between the two camps involved in this debate, there remains only one to be considered here, the function or purpose of the miraculous gifts. Perhaps the best statement of the cessationist doctrine is found in what
D. A. Carson, Showing the Spirit: A Theological Exposition of 1 Corinthians 12–14 (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1987), 66. 19
20
Ibid., 68.
21
Ibid.
22
Ibid.
23
Ibid.
Carson, Showing the Spirit, 69; Douglas A. Oss, “A Pentecostal/Charismatic View,” in Are Miraculous Gifts for Today? ed. Wayne Grudem (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1999), 274. 24
25
Carson, Showing the Spirit, 70.
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Jon Ruthven dubs “the most prominent and representative modern expression of cessationism, Benjamin B. Warfield’s Counterfeit Miracles.”26 Warfield writes, These gifts were not the possession of the primitive Christian as such; nor for that matter of the Apostolic Church or the Apostolic age for themselves; they were distinctively the authentication of the Apostles. They were part of the credentials of the Apostles as the authoritative agents of God in founding the church. Their function thus confined them to distinctively the Apostolic Church, and they necessarily passed away with it.27 Hebrews 2:3–4 provides credible scriptural support for this collective view. Restating his conclusion concerning the character of the miraculous gifts, Gaffin offers his support thusly: “Acts 2 and the subsequent miraculous events . . . are not intended to establish a pattern of ‘repetitions’ of Pentecost to continue on indefinitely in church history. Rather, together they constitute . . . an event-complex, complete with the finished apostolic program they accompany.”28 Of tongues and prophecy, Paul states, “He who speaks in a tongue edifies himself, but he who prophesies edifies the church” (1 Cor 14:4 NKJV). Furthermore, “Tongues are for a sign, not to those who believe but to unbelievers; but prophesying is not for unbelievers but for those who believe” (1 Cor 14:22). Concerning healing miracles, prominent British pneumatologist and New Testament scholar Max Turner states, “The [healing] miracles of the church . . . attest that Jesus continues his role as God’s anointed, healing all those under the power of the devil. The miracles still primarily legitimate the message, and are part of it.”29 Of course, continuationists deny that their doctrine compromises the apostles’ role in the church’s foundation or challenges biblical authority.30 In fact, one would be hard pressed to find a continuationist who would disagree with the scriptural characterization of tongues and prophecy referenced above. However, when continuationists speak of “‘receiving’ the Spirit as a post-conversion experience, they are speaking of the work of the
Jon Ruthven, "On the Cessation of the Charismata: The Protestant Polemic of Benjamin B. Warfield," Pneuma: The Journal of the Society for Pentecostal Studies 12, no. 1 (Spring 1990): 15. 26
27
Warfield, Counterfeit Miracles, 6. 28
Gaffin, “A Cessationist View,” 38.
29
Max Turner, “Spiritual Gifts Then and Now,” Vox Evangelica 15 (1985): 25.
30
Oss, “A Pentecostal/Charismatic View,” 279.
37
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Spirit in which he empowers the believer in ‘charismatic’ ways for witness and service.”31 This emphasis on the empowering work of the Holy Spirit is typically Lukan, while Pauline theology stresses the regenerative work of the Spirit without ruling out the post-conversion experience.32 Some under the continuationist umbrella, especially historical Pentecostals, have incorporated the differences between Pauline and Lukan theology into their pneumatology.33 Having examined the cessationist and continuationist views of the miraculous gifts, even though this examination amounts to little more than a cursory glance into an extremely complex contemporary issue, one thing becomes evident. Neither camp can claim outright that they are completely right and the other side is completely wrong. Certain points from each view garner support from Scripture while some beliefs have been held dogmatically for centuries with little more than scant historical support. Stott asks, What, then, should be our response to miraculous claims today? It should be neither a stubborn incredulity (‘but miracles don’t happen today’) nor an uncritical gullibility (‘of course! Miracles are happening all the time’), but rather a spirit of open-minded enquiry: ‘I don’t expect miracles as a commonplace today, because the special revelation they were given to authenticate is complete; but of course God is sovereign and God is free, and there may well be particular situations in which he pleases to perform them.34 For lack of a better term, this view has been dubbed “open but cautious.” Concerning the baptism of the Spirit, the open but cautious view agrees that believers should experience the supernatural, but denies that a two-stage experience for the believer is supported by Scripture.35 Saucy points out that “Scripture reveals that the only condition for receiving the Spirit or experiencing Spirit baptism is faith in Christ, which brings initial salvation (Jn 7:38–39).”36 Continuationists usually point to the experiences of the Samaritan 31
Ibid., 242.
32
Ibid., 250.
33
Ibid., 251.
34
Stott, Baptism and Fullness, 98.
Robert L. Saucy, “An Open But Cautious View,” in Are Miraculous Gifts for Today? ed. Wayne Grudem (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1999), 98. 35
36
Ibid.
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believers in Acts 8 as evidence for a two-stage Christian experience, failing in the process to realize that “any quest for an experiential paradigm in Acts is seeking what it does not intend to provide.”37 The events recorded in Acts are simply too diverse to be considered normative for today’s believers. According to the open but cautious camp, the cessationist belief that the miraculous gifts ceased at the end of the apostolic age finds support not so much in the New Testament, but primarily in the “witness of church history.”38 Based on this fact, it cannot be said that “certain gifts cannot occur at any given time according to God’s sovereign purpose.”39 Even the alleged modicum of support gathered from 1 Corinthians 13:8–12 is discredited after careful analysis. Regarding the interpretation of ‘perfection’ in verse 10 as referring to the maturity of the church or of individual believers, Turner asserts, “Lexically this is possible, and the illustration in verse 11 is often taken to confirm it. But to suggest that this may apply to some pre-parousia maturity of the church is, once again, simply to trivialize the language of verses 10 and 12.”40 Concerning the second interpretation, that the ‘perfection’ is the completed canon of scripture itself, Turner states wryly, “This position is exegetically indefensible, and is not held in serious New Testament scholarship.”41 In response to the continuationist view, the open but cautious camp points to the uniqueness of the apostolic era. In somewhat of a twist, some argue that the apostles were not especially gifted, citing the absence of “apostleship” in the lists of spiritual gifts.42 If this indeed is the case, then, “the cessation of the apostles did not involve the termination of any spiritual gifts.”43 Given the nature of the miraculous phenomena recorded in Acts (e.g., the gift of tongues at Pentecost, the sound of rushing wind, and the tongues of fire), it would be ludicrous to insist that these events should be considered normal in any era, and to suggest that Scripture mandates their end before the Lord returns is an equally ludicrous misrepresentation.44 37
Gaffin, “A Cessationist View,” 40.
38
Saucy, “An Open But Cautious View,” 112.
39
Saucy, “An Open But Cautious View,” 100.
40
Turner, “Spiritual Gifts Then and Now,” 39.
41
Ibid., 38.
42
Saucy, “An Open But Cautious View,” 101.
43
Ibid.
44
Ibid., 102.
39
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As the voice of the open but cautious view, Saucy writes, “The primary purpose of the miracles [i.e., miraculous gifts] was as signs of authentication pointing to God, his messengers or spokesmen, and their message, which was the word of God.”45 Periods of similar miraculous activity are also found in the Old Testament. Moses worked wonders during the period of the giving of the Law; Elijah and Elisha also performed miracles as the Law was reaffirmed. In the New Testament, Jesus performed miracles and was acknowledged as a prophet. “What, in fact, we find in Scripture,” according to Saucy, “is that ‘signs and wonders’ accompany those whose prophetic ministries occur at certain crucial turning points in the history of salvation.”46 Additionally, it should be noted that the power to perform “signs and wonders” was reserved for the apostles and a very few individuals.47 The open but cautious view of the miraculous gifts of the Spirit obviously takes a middle position between cessationism and continuationism. As the via media, it should encourage dialogue between adherents to the two divergent positions, but how and on what grounds? Most importantly, both “sides” should realize that they share a common faith with few if any disagreements on primary doctrinal issues. Cessationists and continuationists worship the same God, were cleansed by the blood of the same Savior, are empowered by the same Holy Spirit, and yes, will even inhabit the same heaven for eternity together. Although issues such as this are worthy of debate, they should not be allowed to act as barriers to fellowship among Christian brothers and sisters. As Clifton insightfully states, “We need to respond with the initial observation that church unity is not uniformity.”48 Additionally, those in the middle should act to encourage a symbiosis between the camps. Typically, cessationists are characterized as approaching their pneumatology with a dry intellectualism. On the other hand, the continuationists’ doctrine of the Spirit typically emphasizes the empowering ability of the Holy Spirit, resulting in external manifestations, such as speaking in tongues. Could each group benefit from a little of what the other has? Tennent speaks affirmatively: Doctrines of cessationism or partial cessationism are, in the final analysis, detrimental concessions to an Enlightenment worldview that has unduly influenced the church with its naturalistic presuppositions. Sustained contact 45
Saucy, “An Open But Cautious View,” 106.
46
Ibid., 108.
47
Ibid., 109.
48
Clifton, "The Spirit and Doctrinal Development,” 16.
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with Pentecostals [and other continuationists] will serve to invigorate our doctrinal articulation of the work of the Holy Spirit as well as the praxis of traditional Western pneumatology; in turn, Pentecostals [and continuationists] will greatly benefit from the sustained theological reflection in the North American church on the person of the Holy Spirit.49 The via media that runs between the cessationists and continuationists is not a one way street. In all likelihood, this debate will be around for a long time to come, and that is not necessarily a bad thing. Debate sharpens the intellect. However, in the estimation of this writer neither of the two contenders in this contest offers a satisfactory defense of their position. As this article has endeavored to demonstrate, both positions are flawed to a degree. The cessationists appeal to history and Scripture for validation, but find very little support in anything other than church tradition. Likewise, the continuationists seek support from Scripture, but also lean heavily on experiential evidence. While their experience cannot be cast off lightly, their position enjoys only limited scriptural support. The truth is that neither position can be confirmed or denied in its entirety. Some of the questions that have arisen from this discussion of the miraculous gifts of the Spirit must be answered honestly and humbly, “I don’t know.� There is no shame in acknowledging ignorance, but great danger in falsely claiming knowledge. So, at least for now, reason demands that in the ongoing debate concerning the miraculous gifts of the Spirit, we remain open but cautious.
Timothy C. Tennent, Theology in the Context of World Christianity: How the Global Church Is Influencing the Way We Think About and Discuss Theology (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2007), 179. 49
41
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Reformation, Apocalypticism, and Revolution: The Complicated Exchange between Martin Luther and the German Peasants, and Implications for Modern Civil Unrest By Matthew Kasper How did 300,000 early modern German peasants read Martin Luther and get the notion for a major military revolt? How did Luther respond to their flattering appeals to his teachings? What did the peasants think about Luther and vice versa after the war? Well . . . it’s complicated! This article will describe the German Peasants’ War and the documents that preceded it. We will explore how the peasants were reading Luther, Ulrich Zwingli, Thomas Müntzer, and other Reformers. The apocalyptic zeal of the Reformation motivated the peasants to promote sociopolitical changes based on biblical and Protestant tenets, and also to take up arms for the sake of enforcing these changes. Complicating this interaction is Luther’s curious and often caustic responses to the peasants despite their attempts to apply Reformation principles. This article will close by suggesting considerations for modern civil unrest and protest against governmental authorities. The Peasants’ War and Prior Documents The German Peasants’ War took place between 1524 and 1526, just a few years after Luther posted his Ninety-five Theses in 1517, an event commonly seen as the initiation of the German Protestant Reformation. The military activity of the Peasants’ War occurred in south and central German lands mainly during the first half of 1525. Thomas Brady calculates that “the rebel armies took part in at least 60 military engagements: 13 pitched battles, 19 skirmishes, 11 raids and ambushes, 6 sieges, 7 storms of walled places, and 4 bombardments.”1 Historians identify a variety of intertwined and overlapping economic, religious, political and social reasons for the war.2 Peter Blickle, however, believes that this war was more of a revolution than merely a series of local insurrections: “Formulated negatively, [the war’s] objective was to destroy feudal structures; formulated positively, it sought to expand communal competency (all the way to autonomy) and extend the
Matthew Kasper is a Ph.D. candidate at Georgia State University
Thomas A. Brady, German Histories in the Age of Reformations, 1400-1650 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 187. 1
For a summary of these reasons, see Peter Blickle, The Revolution of 1525: The German Peasants’ War from a Very New Perspective, tr. by Thomas A. Brady, Jr. and H. C. Erik Midelfort (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1981), 5-7. 2
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political rights of the individual.”3 The agent of social reconstruction was the “common man [who] became the shaping force of society and the state.”4 These rebellions were not whimsical reactions to social ills. Rather, the numerous grievance documents written before the War indicated the intentional program of the peasants. These documents included “The Eleven Mühlhausen Articles” in September 1524, “The Twelve Articles of the Upper Swabian Peasants” in March 1525, and “The Forty-six Frankfurt Articles” in April 1525. “The Twelve Articles” was chief among these documents; it was “a list of grievances, a reform program, and a political manifesto all in one.” 5 Its widespread influence was seen immediately: “In the brief space of two months twenty-five editions appeared, producing a total of perhaps 25,000 copies and reaching large sections of the empire.”6 “The Twelve Articles” begins by suggesting that “the gospel is not a cause of rebellions or insurrections” but the peasants merely wanted “to be taught and live by such a gospel.”7 This preamble echoes Luther’s words from his 1522 work “A Sincere Admonition to Guard against Rebellion” to the effect that insurrections were both unwise and unchristian.8 Article One discusses the right of congregations to appoint and remove pastors. This was inspired by Luther’s 1523 tract “The Rights of a Christian Congregation,” where he argues that individual congregations have warrant to call and dismiss clergymen without fear of penalty from political or ecclesiastical authorities. This offered unprecedented power and dignity to congregations and even to individual believers of any social status. Also, Luther’s rebellious rhetoric in a work such as this—he refers to Catholic authorities as “murderers and thieves, as wolves and apostate Christians”9—surely emboldened peasants to transfer that audacity into a political context. 3 Peter Blickle, “Social Protest and Reformation Theology,” Religion, Politics and Social Protest: Three Studies on Early Modern Germany, ed. Kaspar von Greyerz (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1984), 17. 4
Blickle, Revolution, 189.
5
Blickle, Revolution, 18.
6
Blickle, Revolution, 18.
7 Sebastian Lotzer and Christoph Schappeler, “The Twelve Articles of the Upper Swabian Peasants,” in The German Reformation and the Peasants’ War: A Brief History with Documents, ed. by Michael G. Baylor (Boston: Bedford/ St. Martins, 2012), 77. 8 Martin Luther, “A Sincere Admonition to Guard against Rebellion,” in The German Reformation and the Peasants’ War: A Brief History with Documents, ed. by Michael G. Baylor (Boston: Bedford/ St. Martins, 2012), 58. 9 Martin Luther, “The Rights of a Christian Congregation,” in The German Reformation and the Peasants’ War: A Brief History with Documents, ed. by Michael G. Baylor (Boston: Bedford/ St. Martins, 2012), 67.
43
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The remainder of the “Twelve Articles” deals with a variety of social concerns including the forced collection of tithes (Article Two), hunting and lumber rights (Articles Four and Five),10 and the oppressive severity of labor and of certain punishments (Articles Six and Nine). Yet, even in this deliberate declaration of grievances, the peasants’ frustrations are evident: Article Eleven regarding the death tax declares, “Those who should protect and defend us have skinned and sheared us.”11 Article Three was an overt appeal to the authority of the gospel for the transformation of the social order by abandoning feudalism and abolishing serfdom: “You will also gladly release from serfdom, or show us from the gospel that we should be serfs.”12 The document closes with the Reformation-oriented notion that all things should be done in conformity with Scripture: “If one or more of the articles we have composed here is not in accordance with the Word of God, we will retract these articles, if they can be shown to be improper according to the Word of God.”13 These notions regarding the central authority of the Bible were derived from the teaching and preaching of the Reformers, and especially, of Luther. “The Eleven Mühlhausen Articles” exhibited similar frustrations with secular and sacred authorities and varying degrees of dependence on Reformation principles. Written with the help of Reformer Thomas Müntzer, these articles declared that congregations of peasants, artisans and burghers had drafted a program for social reformation and had “taken action themselves and derived their decisions from the word of God.” 14 The politically radical nature of this document can be seen in its desire to end “old hatreds and despotism” and to create a culture in which “the poor man is treated like the rich.” 15 Several Old Testament verses were integrated into Articles Four, Ten and Eleven especially as precedents for godly governance. The scripturally based justification for the
Blickle comments: “Hardly a peasant grievance list neglected to demand emphatically logging rights, hunting rights . . . pasturage rights, and the right to graze the forests” (Revolution, 73). 10
11
Lotzer and Schappeler, “The Twelve Articles,” 82.
12 Lotzer
and Schappeler, “The Twelve Articles,” 79. Blickle argues that the abolition of serfdom was the overall plan of the peasants, and that the other articles should be seen through this should lens (Revolution, 35, 69). 13
Lotzer and Schappeler, “The Twelve Articles,” 82.
Thomas Müntzer and Heinrich Pfeiffer, “The Eleven Mühlhausen Articles,” in The Radical Reformation, ed. Michael G. Baylor (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 227. 14
15
Müntzer and Pfeiffer, “Eleven Mühlhausen Articles,” 227, 228.
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establishment of new governing authorities is “so that God’s justice and equity are advanced and so that false authorities and selfish interests are ended.”16 Other peasants’ documents similarly enumerated grievances against oppressive authorities, called for the abolition of feudalism, and claimed that their social concerns were based on Scripture and Reformation doctrine. “The Forty-six Frankfurt Articles,” for instance, begins with the peasants informing “their dear wise lords” that they are offering “obedient and due service, because God almighty has sent to many of our hearts the spirit of truth with the revelation of his holy gospel.”17 The implication is clearly that the peasants’ service and obedience to their seigniors and rulers extend only as far as the willingness of the rulers to submit to the gospel and to godly law. This was consistent with Ulrich Zwingli’s “The Sixty-Seven Articles” which he wrote in 1523. Secular authorities, he exhorted, should follow and obey God, rule with benevolence, and design and enforce laws that are in conformity with God’s laws.18 Before the forty-six articles enumerate specific complaints, the introduction ends by saying, “We want to free ourselves from the grievances which need imposes on us, and we want to support and maintain ourselves among one another as follows.”19 The boldness and even veiled brashness of the peasants is reflected in the last lines of this document: “We bid you honorable, provident, and wise council, for a prompt answer between tomorrow morning and one o’clock in the afternoon, with the stipulation that you may contribute something if it is necessary and according to God.”20 Luther struggled to disassociate himself from the peasants’ revolutionary inklings, which perhaps helps explain his virulent opposition to them. Nonetheless, contemporaries saw an undeniable connection between Luther and the Peasants’ War. Chancellor Leonhard von Eck wrote about the rebelling peasants in Hegau to Duke William IV of Bavaria and claimed that the war had “its origins in Lutheran doctrine; for the majority of the peasants justify their demands from God’s Word, the gospel and brotherly love.”21 The “Memmingen Ordinance” specifically mentions fourteen Reformers, including Luther, 16
Müntzer and Pfeiffer, “Eleven Mühlhausen Articles,” 229.
“The Forty-six Frankfurt Articles,” in The Radical Reformation, ed. Michael G. Baylor (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 246. 17
18 Ulrich Zwingli, “The Sixty-Seven Articles,” in The German Reformation and the Peasants’ War: a Brief History with Documents, ed. Michael G. Baylor (Boston: Bedford/ St. Martins, 2012), 61-65. 19
“The Forty-six Frankfurt Articles,” 246-247.
20
“The Forty-six Frankfurt Articles,” 253.
21
Quoted in Brady, German Histories, 197.
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Melanchthon, and Zwingli, as individuals who were uniquely competent to help the peasants understand and arbitrate the implementation of divine law in social contexts. 22 While this was surely intended as a compliment, the Wittenberg Reformers especially did not want to be associated so directly with the peasants’ movement. How Did the Peasants Perceive Luther? Two factors complicate the interaction between the Reformers, especially Luther, and the peasants and burghers. The first regards the impact of literature in a largely illiterate society, and the second is the reality that the peasants then read and perceived Luther very differently than do theologians and academicians today. Literacy among early modern German peasants was, of course, low, yet this reality did not completely countermand the power of print. In his book Printing, Propaganda, and Martin Luther, Mark Edwards claims that the Reformation is the first major movement to utilize the power of the printing press for the purpose of influencing the masses.23 “Printing was used to reach an audience far larger than any previous movement reached and one that could not have been reached as quickly and effectively before printing’s invention.”24 He suggests that the impact of print especially by the Reformers—or to use A. G. Dicken’s quip, “justification by print alone”—is often overlooked in terms of its influence even on the illiterate masses. Andrew Pettegree agrees: “There can be little doubt that books had a vast and important role to play in shaping the new religious cultures of the sixteenth century.”25 Edwards notes that the few people who initially followed and read Luther—princes, pastors, academicians—were an influential minority.26 Through a strategic program of print, Luther transmitted his theology to “opinion leaders” who then distributed his message orally. Edwards asserts that instead of labeling the Reformation as an urban event or an urban/ rural event, the Reformation must be seen as an “oral” event.27 The peasants depended on what the literate minority read, and the Reformation dominated popular “The Memmingen Federal Ordinance,” in The German Reformation and the Peasants’ War: A Brief History with Documents, ed. Michael G. Baylor (Boston: Bedford/ St. Martins, 2012), 89. 22
23 Mark U. Edwards, Jr., 24
Printing, Propaganda, and Martin Luther (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1994), 1.
Edwards, Printing, xi.
Andrew Pettegree, Reformation and the Culture of Persuasion (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 156. 25
26
Edwards, Printing, 4.
27
Edwards, Printing, 37.
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literature. Thus, low literacy is not necessarily a fair gauge of the print impact of the Reformation. Edwards also argues that Luther’s contemporaries, lords and peasants alike, encountered him through his shorter, polemical pamphlets, rather than through his larger, academic and theological works and commentaries. Whereas the longer theological works were more measured in their tone and style, the shorter works against the clergy, the pope, and other Reformers were sharp, witty, and at times, entertainingly vulgar. Moreover, they enjoyed a wider dissemination and greater popular impact than did his longer theological treatises.28 The shape and size of a pamphlet (Büchlein), as well as its brevity (usually two quarto sheets yielding a sixteen-page product), affordability, and, sometimes, even its catchy title, made this medium ideal for the spread of a subversive message.29 It was this latter category of works that the few literate people were reading and that the masses were hearing. The scatological and seditious Luther known to the masses of his time is not quite the same Luther subsequent generations have perceived from his academic treatises.30 Thus, even the large and largely-illiterate peasant class was profoundly influenced by the writing and rhetoric of the Reformers, especially that of the very prolific Martin Luther. The confidence, clarity and, at times, vehemence with which the Reformers proclaimed biblical truth and confronted religious leadership emboldened the peasants as they confronted political leadership: “the Reformation . . . provided legitimacy for the peasants’ demands.”31 This is a key dynamic that differentiates the Peasants’ War of 1524-1526 from those that preceded it. The revolt of 1476 in Nilkashausen, for instance, was based on Hans Böhm’s visions of the Virgin Mary. Similarly, the Bundschuh uprising in 1493 and the Poor Conrad Revolt of 1514 also reflected religious overtones and swelling anticlericalism. However, by the mid-1520s, the Reformation had provided a doctrinal self-awareness as well as specific vocabulary and concepts—the priesthood of all believers, the authority of Scripture alone, the separation between heavenly and secular authority—which were lacking in previous revolts. In the mid-1520s, many peasants intended to implement these Christian doctrines in specific social contexts.
Andrew Pettegree and Matthew Hall, “The Reformation and the Book: A Reconsideration,” The Historical Journal 47:4 (December 2004), 787-788. 28
29
Edwards, Printing, 15.
30 Edwards comments: “By concentrating our attention on popular, relatively inexpensive pamphlets,
we shall not go too far astray in seeing these works as a rough indication of local interest and demand” (Printing, 9) 31
Blickle, Revolution, 155.
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Luther recognized that hostilities between rulers and peasants set Germany on a trajectory toward armed conflict. In his strangely unsympathetic work “Admonition to Peace: A Reply to the Twelve Articles of the Peasants in Swabia,” he attempts to broker harmony between peasants and lords by throwing both groups of people under the rhetorical bus. He begins by blaming the social upheaval on secular and ecclesiastical authorities: “We have no one on earth to thank for this disastrous rebellion except you princes and lords, and especially you blind bishops and mad priests and monks, whose hearts are hardened, even to the present day.”32 Turning to the peasants and their leaders, he refers to fellow Reformers Thomas Müntzer and Balthasar Hübmaier as “murderous prophets,” “murderous spirits,” “false prophets,” “bloodthirsty prophets of murder and spirits of rebellion,” “lying preacher[s],” and claims that those who followed them were “worse than heathen.”33 He accuses the peasants, who were utilizing his teachings, of “trying to give your unevangelical and un-Christian enterprise an evangelical appearance”; they were “bringing shame upon the holy gospel of Christ, and making it a cover for wickedness.”34 He even utilizes apocalyptic language to warn the princes and rulers regarding their actions: “Since you are the cause of this wrath of God, it will undoubtedly come upon you, unless you mend your ways in time. The signs in heaven and the wonders on earth are meant for you, dear lords; they bode no good for you, and no good will come to you.”35 Apocalypticism and Utopianism Statements like the last one in the section above betray another layer of perception that further complicates this interaction between the Reformers and the peasants, specifically, the sharp apocalypticism of the time. While many historians acknowledge the presence of this perception in the sixteenth century regarding the imminence of the last days, the depth and pervasiveness of this perception as a motivating ideology seems unappreciated and underexplored by Reformation scholarship. Regarding the prevalence of this mindset, Ryan J. Stark comments, “The idea of an impending apocalypse pervaded early Reformation culture, beginning with Martin Luther’s identification of the Pope as 32 Martin Luther, “Admonition to Peace: A Reply to the Twelve Articles of the Peasants in Swabia,” tr. Charles M. Jacobs, Luther’s Works, Volume 46: The Christian in Society, III, ed. Robert C. Schultz (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1967), 19. He uses similar language in regard to the secular authorities in his December 1522 work, “Temporal Authority: To What Extent Should it be Obeyed” (LW 45: 109-110, 113, 116). 33
LW 46: 20, 24, 29, 38.
34
LW 46: 26.
35
LW 46: 19.
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Antichrist and intensifying with Lucas Cranach and Philip Melanchthon’s Passional Christi und Antichristi (1521).”36 An apocalyptic fervor that had escalated for decades seemed to reach an apex in the 1520s, and motivated the writing and rhetoric of the Reformers as well as the actions of the peasants. In A History of Madness in Sixteenth-Century Germany, H. C. Erik Midelfort connects Luther’s rhetoric, apocalypticism, and his perception of demonic activity. Succinctly, Luther felt that his culture was going mad, and the more opposition he received, the more insane he perceived the world to be. This increased madness and demonic activity was a sign that the apocalypse was near: “Luther worried in 1522 that men were not paying full attention to the signs God was sending of the last days.”37 Luther felt that insanity and Satanic activity must be opposed with vicious rhetoric and that he had a unique role in that eschatological moment to combat increased demonic activity with his prolific writings and his harsh words. Speaking more generally about the religious antagonism that existed for much of the sixteenth century, Lyndal Roper comments, “The godless enemies of salvation were not distant foes but neighbors, and so religious hatreds were murderously immediate as well as apocalyptic in significance.”38 Similarly, Luther scholar Heiko Oberman examines the relationship between Luther’s scatology and eschatology. He notes that Luther employed unusually harsh rhetoric because he perceived that he was literally in an apocalyptic battle of words and ideas with Satan. Luther believed that he had the right to fight force with force and filth with filth in light of the nearness of the end of times.39 C. Marvin Pate argued in The End of the Age Has Come: The Theology of Paul that eschatology—specifically the “now/ not yet” tension produced by the “Christ event” —was more central to Pauline theology than was soteriology, specifically, the message about salvation by grace through faith in Christ alone.40 Since the Reformers relied so heavily on Pauline theology, it is conceivable that eschatology and apocalypticism—if not necessarily the core of the Reformers’ theology— was perhaps a more central and motivating force to their doctrine, actions and rhetoric 36
342.
Ryan J. Stark, “Thomas Wilson’s Apocalyptic Rhetoric,” Studies in Philology 106:3 (Summer 2009),
37 H. C.
1999), 91.
38
Erik Midelfort, A History of Madness in Sixteenth-Century Germany (Stanford University Press,
Lyndal Roper, Witch Craze (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2004), 16.
39 Heiko Oberman, “Teufelsdreck: Eschatology and Scatology in the
Journal 19.3 (Autumn, 1988), 443-46, 449-50. 41.
40 C.
‘Old’ Luther,” Sixteenth Century
Marvin Pate, The End of the Age Has Come: The Theology of Paul (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1995),
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than Reformation scholarship has recognized. This sense that the current world order was about to end was also instrumental to the peasants’ urgency. It molded their grievance documents and the ensuing armed revolts, as they recognized in themselves the biblical authority and the social agency to inaugurate radical change. Modern Protestants conceive of the end times in very different terms than did the peasants of Luther’s day, and this may hinder our analysis of Reformation apocalypticism. Recent popular manifestations of end-times events, such as various iterations of the Left Behind franchise, spotlight elements of Christian eschatology, such as the rapture, the rule of an anti-Christ, or the Great Tribulation. Even the recent plethora of apocalyptic TV shows and movies portrays the end times or the apocalypse in terms of a looming calamity that will upset the current pleasant and serene status of society and replace it with a situation that is far worse.41 Furthermore, modern Protestant—especially evangelical—eschatology leans heavily on the book of Revelation, which was also perceived very differently in the sixteenth century than it is today. In fact, the canonicity of Revelation was still debated during the Reformation, and it was not relied upon as a source for their understanding of eschatology then as it is for many today. The two divergent prefaces that Luther wrote to the book of Revelation in 1522 and 1530 demonstrate a radical shift in his approach to that particular book and to eschatology in general. In his anemically short one-page preface to Revelation written in 1522, Luther said that he “consider[ed] it to be neither apostolic nor prophetic” and that he could “in no way detect that the Holy Spirit produced it.”42 But in his preface to Revelation written in 1530 (published in 1546) he provides a longer and more serious treatment of it, though he still acknowledges concerns about its canonicity, and he exercises caution in his interpretation of the book and its details.43 This drastic shift in a mere eight years may reflect not just a changed attitude toward Revelation nor simply a desire to take long-range biblical prophecy more seriously, but it may also betray his disappointment that the Reformers’ apocalyptic expectations were not realized during the 1520s. The Reformers’ and the peasants’ understandings of the apocalypse was shaped more by the Old Testament prophets and the New Testament gospels than by the eschatological intricacies of Revelation, and the biblical passages cited in the peasants’ documents demonstrate this. In “The Twelve Articles of the Upper Swabian Peasants,” for instance, Examples in popular media include the aptly named Armageddon (1998), The Day After Tomorrow (2004), Jericho (2006-2008), I Am Legend (2007), The Road (book, 2006; movie 2009), 2012 (2009), The Book of Eli (2010), Hunger Games (2012), Revolution (2012), and The 100 (2013), to name just a few shows and movies. 41
42
LW 35: 398.
43
LW 35: 399-411.
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there are fifty-nine citations of Scripture, usually consisting simply of a mention of a specific chapter in the Bible. These demonstrate a heavy reliance on the Pentateuch, or the law of Moses, especially the theocratic principles in Exodus (mentioned three times) and Deuteronomy (mentioned five times). There are also several references to Isaiah (specifically to four chapters), a book that is known for its messianic and apocalyptic prophecies. The Twelve Articles also appeal frequently to the gospels, especially Matthew (mentioned eight times), and to eight of the epistles attributed to Paul, with a predictably high reliance on Romans (mentioned five times). 1 Peter is mentioned twice and the book of Hebrews is mentioned also. Notably, the book of Revelation is not mentioned once, as though a Revelation-driven vision of the end times had no relevance for the Upper Swabian peasants. The apocalypse for the early modern German peasants was more rooted in the ethics of the gospels, the doctrines of Paul’s epistles, and the social aspirations of Old Testament theocratic and prophetic principles. The peasants saw the apocalypse as less celestial and more earthy, less global and more local, less otherworldly and more thisworldly, except with more fairness and less injustice and oppression. Taking their cue from Reformation leaders, many of the peasants believed that they were on the threshold of the apocalypse. But the eschatological questions we ask today regarding the timing of the rapture, the identity of the anti-Christ, or other eschatological concerns were not relevant then. For instance, few Christian traditions especially then affirmed a literal pre-tribulation rapture. Also, Luther and others had stated in no uncertain terms that the popes (whether Leo X from 1513 to 1521, Adrian VI from 1522 to 1523, or Clement VII from 1523 to 1534) were anti-Christs. Additionally, the peasants and burghers didn’t need Revelation’s “Great Tribulation” because they believed that their lists of grievances demonstrated their ongoing tribulation. Their social struggles demanded a radical departure from centuries of feudalism and serf oppression to an egalitarian society that championed biblical eschatological and utopian ideals. For sixteenth century peasants the apocalypse may not have been more complicated than the dualism found frequently in the OT Prophets.44 This dualism divided time between the way things are—where the wicked rule and prosper and the righteous suffer and are oppressed—and the intervention of God, or “the day of the Lord,” when the order of things would be reversed: the wicked would be destroyed, and the righteous would be vindicated and blessed.45
44
Such as in passages like Isa. 13:9-13, 60:15-18, Joel 2:18-24, Amos 5:11-17, 9:8-15 or Mal. 4:1-3
In fact, one wonders if the agricultural imagery in these apocalyptic texts intentionally or subconsciously manifested themselves in the peasants’ grievance lists in the form of concerns about hunting, fishing and lumber rights. Perhaps, too, the military language in some of these texts encouraged the armed response of the peasants. 45
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Another factor that stoked apocalyptic anxieties was the incursions of the Ottomans into Hapsburg lands. In Cultural Hierarchy in Sixteenth-Century Europe: The Ottomans and Mexicans, Carina L. Johnson notes how pervasive this threat was: “Breaking news of the Ottoman military activities and of peoples encountered in the Indies were among the first types to appear in . . . pamphlets, and these two topics dominated the genre.”46 Ottoman invasions were perceived by Catholics and Protestants alike as God’s judgment upon the corruption of both the church and the state. In 1530, Luther described the three “woes” mentioned in the book of Revelation, the last and fiercest two of which he believed were incarnated in both of the gospel’s greatest enemies: “Here, now, the devil’s final wrath gets to work: there in the East is the second woe, Mohammed and the Saracens; here in the West are papacy and empire, with the third woe.”47 Diarmaid MacCulloch summarizes the eschatological dread wrought by the Ottomans: The fear which this Islamic aggression engendered in Europe was an essential background to the Reformation, convincing many on both sides that God’s anger was poised to strike down the Christian world, and so making it all the more essential to please God by affirming the right form of Christian belief against other Christians. It is impossible to understand the mood of sixteenth-century Europe without bearing in mind the deep anxiety inspired by the Ottoman Empire.48 For the peasants of Luther’s day, the Ottoman threat, Reformation apocalypticism, expressions of utopianism, and sociopolitical grievances melded into attempts to create social equity.49 Some of the peasants and burghers assumed that they were the agents of eschatological transformation of the social order from the way things are to the way things should be, and they were willing to take up arms to achieve that goal, if necessary. Blickle recognizes that they perceived the apocalyptic nature of their actions: “The effort to realize God’s will, God’s justice, God’s majesty, in this world ignited the hope for a world overcome by peace.”50 Apocalypticism may even have energized an unrealistic optimism regarding their chances against the superior military forces of the Hapsburgs and of the regional princes. If this indeed was the end of times, as some thought, and the masses were Carina L. Johnson, Cultural Hierarchy in Sixteenth-Century Europe: The Ottomans and Mexicans (Cambridge University Press, 2011), 6. 46
47
153.
LW 35: 406.
48 Diarmaid MacCulloch,
The Reformation: A History (New York: Penguin, 2003), 57; see also 133, 152-
49
See, for instance, utopian works like Hans Hergot’s On the New Transformation of a Christian Life.
50
Blickle, Revolution, 22.
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indeed fighting the forces of Satan and the anti-Christ, as Luther had so often taught, then they could wage this war with the certainty of divine enablement and guaranteed victory. The Peasants’ War was a fight that they could not lose! Luther’s Curious and Often Caustic Responses Luther’s response to and participation with the Peasants’ War was very different than that of Thomas Müntzer. Müntzer was a driving force behind the war, and the co-author of “The Eleven Mühlhausen Articles.” His 1521 “Prague Protest” demonstrates his utter distaste for the Catholic clergy, and he ends that work by suggesting that soon “Christ will give to his elect the kingdom of this world for all eternity.” 51 His 1524 “Sermon to the Princes” shows his disdain for secular leadership as well. Appealing to Daniel chapter 2, he warns them that “God clearly speaks . . . about the transformation of the world. He will bring about this transformation in the Last Days, so that his name will be rightly praised. He will release the elect [i.e., faithful peasants] from their shame.”52 Müntzer recognized in the revolt an opportunity to shift authority from tyrannical civil and clerical authorities to the common man.53 Luther’s opposition to the Peasants’ War, therefore, provided an obvious contrast and complicated his relationship with the peasants. In two works regarding the peasants’ activities, Luther provided bizarre and brutal prescriptions regarding how they should be dealt with. These prescriptions may provide insight into some places in Luther’s psyche where Reformation scholars often fear to tread. In his book The Great Cat Massacre And Other Episodes in French Cultural History, Robert Darnton, championing the mentalités school of historiography, provides valuable insight for dealing with the odd and sometimes inexplicable events, thought patterns, and responses that we find throughout historical studies: “When we run into something that seems unthinkable to us, we may have hit upon a valid point of entry into an alien mentality. And once we have puzzled through to the native’s point of view, we should be able to roam about in his symbolic world.”54 Therefore, when we encounter Luther’s puzzling responses, we should recognize a reaction Thomas Müntzer, “The Prague Protest” in The Radical Reformation, ed. Michael G. Baylor (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 10. 51
Thomas Müntzer, “Sermon to the Princes” in The Radical Reformation, ed. Michael G. Baylor (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 24. 52
53 Peter Blickle,
Communal Reformation: The Quest for Salvation in the Sixteenth-Century Germany, trans. Thomas Dunlap (Atlantic Highlands, NJ: Humanities Press International, 1992), 3. Robert Darnton, The Great Cat Massacre: And Other Episodes in French Cultural History (New York: Basic Books, 1984), 262. 54
53
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that reflected his internal logic, if not ours. That logic may elude us today, but exploring it may also help us understand how he and some of the other Wittenberg theologians perceived the peasants’ documents and actions. Luther was horrified that his writings and doctrines were being used to justify social protest and rebellion. That the peasants would engage in military revolt against human authorities was, for Luther, a sure sign that they were in league with Satan. In his characteristically unambiguous tract called Against the Murderous, Thieving Hordes of Peasants, he mischaracterizes the Swabian peasants’ second article regarding the tithe and asserts that their suggestion is “nothing but theft and highway robbery.”55 He instructed the nobility to “smite, strangle, and stab [the rebelling peasants], secretly or openly, remembering that nothing can be more poisonous, hurtful, or devilish than a rebel.”56 His vilification of the peasants is clear from passages like, “The peasants are not content with belonging to the devil themselves; they force and compel many good people to join their devilish league against their wills, and so make them partakers of all their own wickedness and damnation.”57 The peasants’ complicity with the Devil allegedly created a national threat; in characteristic overstatement, Luther claims that the peasants’ rebellion “would ultimately result in the permanent destruction of all Germany.”58 From Luther’s perspective, the peasants were clearly on Satan’s side, and should thus be eliminated as expeditiously as possible. But just a few months into the Peasants’ War, the atrocities done by the peasants were eclipsed by atrocities done to the peasants, and Luther was criticized for his prior pamphlet. In response he wrote “An Open Letter on the Harsh Book Against the Peasants.” While some may appreciate Luther’s decisions not to retract his statements and beliefs at certain points in his career—such as at the Diet of Worms in 1521—this “Open Letter” was one instance where a retraction, or at least a softening, may have been helpful. Instead, Luther doubled-down on his violent verbiage regarding the rebels. He suggested that they were not even fit for intelligent discourse: “A rebel is not worth rational arguments, for he Martin Luther, “Against the Murderous, Thieving Hordes of Peasants,” tr. Charles M. Jacobs, Luther’s Works, Volume 46: The Christian in Society, III, ed. Robert C. Schultz (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1967), 38. 55
56 LW 46: 50. This is a reversal of his exhortation in “Temporal Authority: To What Extent Should it be Obeyed,” where he says, “A Christian prince must certainly lay aside any intent to exercise lordship or to proceed with force” (LW 45: 118). Luther permits violence in war, as long as it is quickly followed by peace (125). 57
LW 46: 54.
58 LW 46: 18. In Luther’s 1522 work “A Sincere Admonition to Guard against Rebellion,” Luther stated that “insurrection is most certainly a suggestion of the Devil” (“Sincere Admonition,” 58).
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does not accept them.”59 He further suggests of the rebelling peasants that, “it is plain that they are faithless, perjured, disobedient, rebellious thieves, robbers, murders, and blasphemers, and there is not one of them who has not deserved to be put to death without mercy.”60 Luther provided a fuller justification for his previous opinions about the insurrectionists and he prescribes ways in which one can, and should, eliminate a rebellious peasant,61 including the exhortation: “Everyone who can must run, uncalled and unbidden, and, as a true member, help to rescue his head [i.e., a political ruler] by stabbing, hewing, and killing, and risk his life and goods for the sake of the head.”62 The Peasants’ Perceptions of Luther after the War Of the 300,000 peasants and burghers who participated in the various conflicts of the Peasants’ War, an estimated 100,000 lost their lives to the superior military might of the Hapsburg Empire. Additionally, villages were burnt, crops destroyed, and the surviving peasants were left with a sense that their sacrifices would have minimal impact on their social standing. Yet, the peasants’ efforts were not quite for nothing; in some areas such as in Basal and Memmingen, local lords and leaders did make some concessions to their citizens. But the peasants also suffered from shattered eschatological expectations and labored under the realization that Luther had betrayed them by siding with the princes. Social concessions that the peasants gained did not change their soured perceptions of Luther. In fact, he seemed all the more adversarial to them in light of the investment made toward the peasants’ cause by other Reformers. Zwingli had formulated his “The Sixty-Seven Articles,” which resonated with the peasants’ desire to apply biblical principles in social contexts. He died a few years later in 1531 when he took up arms defending Zurich. Thomas Müntzer lead several thousand peasants in the May 1525 Battle of Frankenhausen. The peasants suffered a crushing defeat under Landgrave Philip I of Hesse, and soon after Müntzer was tortured and beheaded. But Luther had made no such investment for the peasants or their cause, but rather prescribed for the princes many lethal ways to dispose of a rebelling peasant. This, predictably, had negative consequences for the spread of Lutheranism into many rural 59
LW 46: 65.
60
LW 46: 74.
61
LW 46: 80, 81, 82.
62
LW 46: 80.
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areas. The peasants felt betrayed by Luther, and many, consequently, turned back to Catholicism. After the War, the Reformation transitioned into more of an elitist academic and princes’ movement than one for the “common man.” Thomas Brady summarizes that “the Peasants’ War played a highly important role as a turning point in the transformation of the early evangelical movements into the Protestant reformation.”63 Also, Catholic leadership recognized that Protestant doctrines were driving the peasants and, thus, they demonized Luther and other Reformers all the more for their socially subversive theology. Catholic ecclesiastical and civic leaders reasserted their resolve to stamp out the Lutheran “heresy” not just for religious reasons, but now for political and social ones as well. These exacerbated tensions between Catholics and Protestants would continue to haunt the German-speaking lands for the next century. Principles and Warnings for a Modern Context What principles can we glean for modern civil protest from the complicated interaction between Luther and the peasants? While it is tempting here to discuss the riots in Ferguson, the unrest in Baltimore, or similar conflicts that break out for one reason or another in urban centers, we should acknowledge that those are of a different category of social unrest vis-à-vis the Peasants’ War, and those also lack the intentional, measured and revolutionary qualities of the latter. We can start by identifying basic social problems today, many of which parallel those faced by sixteenth century German peasants. For instance, Blickle notes: “In analyzing the causes of the Revolution of 1525, the only important question is the extent to which . . . the early modern state invaded peasants’ lives, an invasion which came in two prongs, taxation and princely officials.”64 Similarly, the increasingly intrusive nature of government through taxation, regulation, and technology makes Americans of many sociopolitical stripes feel a bit rebellious. Of course, Romans 13:1-7 and 1 Peter 2:13-17 demand that Christians submit to secular governing authorities. Yet the United States provides to its citizens the unprecedented freedom to vote, to engage in political activity, and to express discontent toward politicians and policies with minimal fear of political reprisal. The liberty to express grievances for the sake of a better society is not inconsistent with submission to authorities today in an American context; in fact, we could regard it as very consistent with our political culture. This liberty is available to believers as long as we are not breaking biblical 63
Brady, German Histories, 197.
64
Blickle, Revolution, 78.
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precepts, for example, not slandering (Lev. 19:16; Eph. 4:31; Titus 3:2; 1 Pet. 2:1), not complaining (1 Cor. 10:10; Phil. 2:14; 1 Pet. 4:9), and remaining thankful in all things (Eph. 5:20; Col. 3:15; 1 Thess. 5:18). The U. S. Constitution grants citizens the right plainly to proclaim the value of turning to—or as some may argue, returning to—a social structure and societal norms that are more consistent with Scripture. With that in mind, what follows are some thoughts for how the complicated exchange between the Reformers and peasants in the 1520s provides both good and bad examples for believers who want to address sociopolitical grievances today. Careful Exegesis As I read documents from the Reformers and from the peasants, I was both impressed with how much Scripture was referenced, and also disheartened by how much Scripture seemed to be taken out of context or misapplied. Some more glaring examples include Luther’s appeals, in his “Admonition to Peace” to Matt. 5:39-41, 7:3, Rom. 3:8, 12:19, 2 Cor. 11:20, and 1 Pet. 2:18.65 Several of these verses were not relevant to the peasants’ predicament and they do not necessarily forbid intentional and non-military protest against governmental authorities then or now. While the topic of how early modern Germans interpreted Scripture is fodder for another article, nonetheless, these examples serve as reminders that if we claim to provide ancient scriptural solutions to modern social problems, we should wield exegesis skillfully as our highest means for accomplishing this. Godly Dialog One of the more glaring and disillusioning realities of Luther’s complicated exchange with the German peasants is the brutality, violence and harshness of his rhetoric, which caused problems at other critical moments during the Protestant Reformation as well.66 Luther’s overstatement, mischaracterization, hostility and petulance rankles the reader on almost every page of the documents assessed in this article. Christians are bound to disagree regarding biblical interpretation, as well as regarding what grievances we may have against governing authorities and how specifically to communicate and act upon those grievances. In light of this, nurturing structures such as church associations, Christian periodicals, and theological societies should provide arenas for godly dialog about 65
LW 46: 26.
See my chapter entitled, “Returning to Marburg to rethink Martin Luther,” in Reformation Faith: Exegesis and Theology in the Protestant Reformations, ed. Michael Parsons (Crownhill, UK: Paternoster, 2014), 173-189. 66
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biblically-grounded social discontent. Such dialog should seek redress of social grievances in a careful, measured fashion. This restraint was, unfortunately, lacking in Luther’s writings. Avoiding Rebellion Despite the frustrations that many believers feel regarding government intrusion, taxation, foreign policy, or general cultural decay, these do not justify armed conflict or violence. In “Admonition to Peace,” Luther helpfully instructed the peasants: “Nevertheless, you, too, must be careful that you take up your cause justly and with a good conscience. If you have a good conscience, you will have the comforting advantage that God will be with you, and will help you.”67 Believers today must also approach social causes armed with biblical ideas and a good conscience, not with worldly weapons or a rebellious spirit. Social change for conformity to Scripture is fine, but outright rebellion, whether military or otherwise, undermines clear biblical instructions about honoring governmental authority (Rom. 13:1-7; 1 Pet. 2:13-17). Intentional Articulation of Grievances American authorities are aware that evangelicals have gripes, but perhaps less aware of the precise content of and reasons for those gripes. We evangelicals should accept some culpability for that ignorance. In the 1520s, the German peasants did not begin with armed revolt, but rather with intelligent and intentional expressions of grievances against authorities throughout central Europe. While reading these documents, I was impressed with their careful and calculated communication of a variety of social concerns. Additionally, these documents advanced solutions to those grievances and even detailed how political structures could be rearranged to provide more equity and justice for society. Perhaps today, a concise, well-crafted statement of grievances by the peasants (us!) may be more effective for identifying concerns and achieving change than a dozen protests in D.C. or a thousand calls to the congressional switchboard. A Program of Proclamation Believers of every era are people of proclamation (Ps. 96:2; Matt. 28:19-20; Luke 9:2, 60; Acts 1:8; 1 Cor. 11:26; Col. 1:28; 1 Pet. 2:9; 1 John 1:2-3). The Reformers emphasized proclamation and application of biblical truth, and they utilized the print technologies of their time effectively to proliferate their concerns about church and society. The peasants 67
LW 46: 23.
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also utilized this pattern of intentional proclamation in the numerous documents that they produced and distributed. Modern believers should also be zealous for the declaration of biblical truth and the application of that truth to social problems today. Like our sixteenth century predecessors, we should utilize all available media and technology for the proclamation of God’s truth as a means to dispel the deceit, darkness, and delusions within our own society. Conclusion We have witnessed the complicated exchange between the Reformers, especially Luther, and the German peasants. This exchange was confused by conflicting messages from the Reformers, by different approaches to apocalypticism, by varying perspectives regarding appropriate opposition to secular rulers, and by dissimilar understandings of how to implement reformation doctrine in socio-political contexts. Luther further complicated this situation through excessively harsh statements directed toward political leaders, but especially toward the peasants. We have also suggested some basic implications of this complicated exchanged and how it can provide lessons for political unrest and opposition by believers today. While more research in the future may illuminate the understandings and misunder- standings between the Reformers and the peasants, we can conclude this present article with two assertions. First, we, with Luther, can justifiably condemn the use of violence by the masses for achieving sociopolitical goals. Armed violence is not a legitimate form of civil unrest and clearly violates Rom. 13 and 1 Pet. 2. We can equally condemn Luther’s statements prescribing the use of violence by authorities upon the peasants. Second, we can recognize in the peasants’ documents a parallel passion to express sociopolitical grievances from a biblical worldview in a modern context. A rational, carefully-formulated, and widelydistributed document that articulates grievances and prescribes solutions may have a surprisingly positive effect on our society today.
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Lightning and the Lord: Why William Rowe’s Argument from Natural Evil Fails By Doug Taylor The tongue of the wise commends knowledge, but the mouth of the fool gushes folly.1 The existence of evil is paramount to the atheist’s argument. The allegation is that the presence of evil in the world is irrefutable evidence for the non-existence of God. If such allegation were found true, then it is the theologian gushing folly, pursuing a phantom, an apparition, second cousin to Harvey the Rabbit.2 One significant challenge presented to the theist for the past sixty years3 or so has been to answer the question of evil. Admittedly, the challenge has not been restricted to the referenced time, as can be seen by the teachings of Epicurus. You see, therefore, that we have greater need of wisdom on account of evils; and unless these things had been proposed to us, we should not be a rational animal. But if this account is true, which the Stoics were in no manner able to see, that argument also of Epicurus is done away. God, he says, either wishes to take away evils, and is unable; or He is able, and is unwilling; or He is neither willing nor able, or He is both willing and able. If He is willing and is unable, He is feeble, which is not in accordance with the character of God; if He is able and unwilling, He is envious, which is equally at variance with God; if He is neither willing nor able, He is both envious and feeble, and therefore not God; if He is both willing and able, which alone is suitable to God, from what source then are evils? Or why does He not remove them?4
Douglas Taylor is a Ph.D. candidate and Teaching Assistant at Liberty University.
1 All Scripture
references shall be from The Holy Bible: New International Version. 1984 (Pr 15:2). Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan. The Shawshank Redemption, directed by Frank Darabont (Toronto: Columbia Pictures, 1994). In the movie, Andy was a prisoner who was assisting the Warden in laundering money. When questioned by another inmate about fear of getting caught, Andy responded that the “person” who “owned” the bank accounts was simply someone made up out of his own head. “Harvey” appears to have come from the 1950 movie Harvey, where the rabbit was a 6’ 3.5” creature from Celtic mythology who befriended social outcasts. 2
3
Here I have in mind the works of individuals such as Flew, Mackie, and Rowe.
Lactantius, “A Treatise on the Anger of God”, in Fathers of the Third and Fourth Centuries: Lactantius, Venantius, Asterius, Victorinus, Dionysius, Apostolic Teaching and Constitutions, Homily, and Liturgies. The AnteNicene Fathers, trans. W. Fletcher, ed. A. Roberts, J. Donaldson & A. C. Coxe (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Company, 1886), 7:271. 4
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Thus, the question raised for the theist is that if God exists, and if He is omnipotent, omniscient, and wholly good, then why does evil exist? This line of argumentation has been carried forward by the likes of William Rowe who presents the following syllogism as a modern expression of Epicurus’ thesis: There exists instances of intense suffering which an omnipotent, omniscient being could have prevented without thereby losing some greater good or permitting some evil equally bad or worse. An omniscient, wholly good being would prevent the occurrence of any intense suffering it could, unless it could not do so without thereby losing some greater good or permitting some evil equally bad or worse. There does not exist an omnipotent, omniscient, wholly good being.5 This paper shall attempt to answer both Epicurus and Rowe through a response which moves beyond a defense and provides a plausible explanation for five key questions: 1) 2) 3) 4) 5)
Why is there any evil at all? Why are there the types and kinds of evils that there are? Why is there the amount of evil that there is? Why are there the particular evils that there are? Why does God allow moral and natural evils, as He does?
The responses offered in this theodicy should be able to demonstrate explanatory scope, explanatory power, plausibility, should not be ad hoc in nature, and should ultimately aid in illuminating other areas of interest as a result of the theodicy.6 Building the Theodicy The Bible shall be considered as a viable source information, but the Bible shall not be used alone, for to do so may bring the charge of a self-referential theodicy. The Bible shall therefore be used in conjunction with five additional strata in building a theistic response to the atheistic charge. These five additional elements shall include the Free Will Defense, The Greater Good Defense, the Soul Building Theodicy, CORNEA, and Natural Law.
William L. Rowe, "The Problem Of Evil And Varieties Of Atheism," in The Problem of Evil, ed. Marilyn McCord Adams and Robert Merrihew Adams (New York: Oxford Press, 1990), 127-128. 5
Michael Licona. "Resurrection Course Handout, Apologetics 537" (lecture, Luther Rice Seminary, Lithonia, GA, January 2008). Dr. Licona's lecture was focused on the historical examination of the evidence for the existence, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus. While the methodology presented was designed specifically for use in examining distant historical events, it appears completely suitable and appropriate for use in the development of a theodicy. 6
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Culpability The Bible reveals the first known act of moral evil committed by humanity. Turning to the disobedience of Adam and Eve (Genesis 3), a couple of key points need to be made. First, from an evangelical Christian perspective, both Adam and Eve made a conscious choice with respect to what their own actions would be concerning their obedience to God. The same can be said for their immediate progeny. Commenting on Genesis 4, A. P. Ross points to how quickly society as a whole was rebelling against God.7 There appears to be a clear link between the conditions of humanity, vis-à-vis the presence of moral evils, and the choices made by the very same individuals who have become both the subjects and objects of that same evil. Some have argued that if God created this world and humans, He could have done so without the inclusion of moral evil. Plantinga demonstrates that such a theory is simply untenable, and offers the following rebuttal to the hypothesis: If a person S is free with respect to a given action, then he is free to perform that action and free to refrain; no causal laws and antecedent conditions determine either that he will perform the action, or that he will not. It is within his power, at the time in question, to perform the action, and within his power to refrain.8 Consequently, according to Plantinga, man is completely culpable for not only the existence, but also the continuance of moral evils. As to the argument that God could simply have created us to only do morally good actions, Carl Henry notes: While the finite humans created by God are not inescapably wicked they are nonetheless structured with a capacity not only for reason and moral will but also for emotion and desire and with diverse qualities of personhood. Feinberg infers from this fact that God cannot eradicate moral evil without also eliminating the kind of human creature he has made…. Feinberg presses behind volition to “human desires” as its source…. Feinberg contends that not God but human desire is the cause of sin; although not intrinsically
A. P. Ross, “Genesis,” in The Bible Knowledge Commentary: An Exposition of the Scriptures ed. J. F. Walvoord & R. B. Zuck (Wheaton, IL: Victor Books, 1985), Ge 4:1-16. 7
Alvin Plantinga, "God, Evil, And The Metaphysics Of Freedom," in The Problem of Evil, ed. Marilyn McCord Adams and Robert Merrihew Adams (New York: Oxford Press, 1990), 84-85. 8
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wicked, human desire is “the ultimate source of moral evil” because it permits its objects to become a lure to sin.9 Accordingly, moral evil is not something external to man, rather it is a condition generated by the very subject that ultimately becomes the object of that evil. This point would appear to be in alignment with Strong’s opinion related to how Plato understood morality. Without regard for Plato’s view of matter being evil, Plato (430–348) held that morality is pleasure in the good, as the truly beautiful, and that knowledge produces virtue…. The body, like all matter, being inherently evil, is a hindrance to the soul,—here we have a glimpse of hereditary depravity. But Plato “reduced moral evil to the category of natural evil.” He failed to recognize God as creator and master of matter; failed to recognize man’s depravity as due to his own apostasy from God; failed to found morality on the divine will rather than on man’s own consciousness.10 Subsequently, it would appear inescapable that if one were to ask as Epicurus, “Whence comes evil,” man need not look beyond himself. There is no need for a God who created evil or performed evil – man has and continues to demonstrate his full capacity for being the source of moral evil. In consideration of the positions proffered by Plantinga and Henry, coupled with what has been disclosed through the pages of Scripture, it is not possible to have a substantively free individual, meaning an individual who has the ability to choose the action they will or will not perform, while at the same time providing a system whereby one may only choose to execute those behaviors which are morally good. First, and perhaps too obvious to warrant discussion, is the fact that a choice of one is no choice. Second, if there are choices, then it would appear reasonable to believe that not all choices are equal; therefore, if one may choose, then the door is open for possible choices that include morally neutral or negative outcomes. The conclusion, based on the presence of free will and the ability to make choices, is that negative outcomes are a necessary part of the system and do not serve as an indictment against the existence of God.
9
C. F. H. Henry, God, Revelation, and Authority (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 1999), 6:270.
10
A. H. Strong, Systematic Theology (Philadelphia: American Baptist Publication Society, 1907), 183.
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Growth Why, then, might God continue to allow evil to exist? Understanding that the evangelical still subscribes to the omnipotent, omniscient, wholly good God, might there be a purpose in God allowing the continuance of moral evil? Such has been the point of those who purport a Soul Building Theodicy. It is suggested that how one views eschatology will, by necessity, impact their understanding of life now, thus the evangelical view would reason that all will continue to have conscious existence postmortem, with the difference being qualitative. Through man’s uncompelled responses and voluntary cooperation, John Hick says, God tries to bring the mankind that he first omnipotently created from animal life (bios) to the higher destiny of eternal life (zōē) exemplified in Jesus Christ (Evil and the God of Love, pp. 293 f.). Hick thinks that God could have made humans who always act morally toward other humans; but not so that they always respond to God in faith, trust, love, obedience and worship (ibid., p. 310). Human life, Hick maintains, “cannot be perfected by divine fiat”; the world is a disciplinary arena in which “personal life is essentially free and self-directing” (ibid., p. 291).11 It has already been shown that in order for one to be substantively free there must be the ability to choose, so Hick is incorrect in his assessment of God’s ability in this matter, for to make mankind such that he always responds favorably toward God would be akin to forced love, which is not love. There must be another answer. Yandell suggests that character is built through this ongoing struggle with moral evil. “A further consideration, adds Yandell, is God’s use of the struggle between good and evil to build human character.”12 What, then, may be shown from Scripture to support the idea that the presence of moral evil may be used by God to build the soul of the individual? Three examples are offered: “And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men.” (Lk 2:52); God providing man the right to choose to follow Him or not (Dt 30:19-20); and third, Jesus provides a solution wherein rest is to be found (Mt 11:29-30). 11
C. F. H. Henry, God, Revelation, and Authority (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 1999), 6:276-277.
12
Ibid.
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The first example is from Jesus’ personal growth. Space prevents full examination, but Jesus, being fully God and fully man, would have lived in a fallen world where moral evil existed, and yet we see that He grew in favor not only with God, but also with men. The second example indicates that God gives man the right to choose whether to follow Him, and further outlines the corollaries of either choice. Finally, Jesus Himself says that our soul will find rest only when we follow Him. It is inescapable based on Scripture to see anything other than the idea that God wants man to choose to follow Him, and to experience personal growth as a result of that following. It is also impossible to miss the fact that because man gets to choose, and because man may choose to take a path other than following God, he is fully culpable with regard to the decisions he makes. Thus, it would appear to be a reasonable conclusion that if a man may choose to turn away from God, then God may use those circumstances, i.e. moral evils, to cause a man to reconsider his views and course, choosing instead to turn back to God. This is the message from Deuteronomy. Notwithstanding such attempts by God to have man desire to turn to Him, and again considering man to be substantively free, man ultimately gets to make the choice of whether or not to follow God, experience the building and growth of his soul, or to reject God altogether. It is recognized that this line of argumentation relies heavily on the Bible, but if God does not exist, and if the Bible is but a myth, and given the significant gaps as offered by modern Judaism and Islam as the two other theistic systems, and then the other six world views, it is suggested that there is no other basis upon which to believe that man may have a soul or that said soul should need to be built. If such were not the case, there would be nothing after death – no consciousness of the eternal darkness – so there would be nothing for which to build the soul. Virtue Norman Geisler states that God is an infinitely powerful and good Creator who allows evil with the understanding that He will ultimately defeat it and achieve a greater good.13 If Geisler is correct, and there is some greater good to be found in the existence of moral evil, would it be appropriate to state that in all cases of evil, and for all persons, that there is some greater good that may be found? The answer is a solid “maybe.” Jesus stated that we are to love our enemies, as God allows the sun to rise and the rain to fall for both the righteous and unrighteous (Mt 5:44-45). Here we see that the follower of God is actually seeking good for those who stand against the Christian. There is a clear distinction made 13 N. L. Geisler, &
P. D. Feinberg, Introduction to Philosophy: A Christian Perspective (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1980), 286.
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between those who would follow God and those who would not. If the above is to be taken literally, then there is reason to believe that if one is alive, one receives good, even though evil exists. Based on Paul’s writing to the Romans (see 8:28-39), it would appear that there is a clear line of demarcation between the one who is a follower of Christ and all others. The use of “all things” indicates that it is inclusive of all aspects and events in the life of the believer. There is no indication in this passage, explicit or implicit, to indicate that such a promise is made to the atheist, agnostic, or the one who is simply indifferent. Therefore, based on the text it may be stated that in all cases of moral and natural evil, there is indeed some greater good for the Christian, but such may not be the case for a non-believer. Additionally, it is important to note that once again we must turn to an eschatological framework when trying to understand exactly when all of these events will result in good. There is nothing in the text to indicate that all good things are being withheld until the eternal states, and likewise there is nothing indicating that there cannot be temporal good to come following moral evil. For those who would consider this to be simply a theoretical claim to good, the question that must be asked is that if there is some greater good, is it reasonable to believe that we would always be able to identify that good? Not according to Stephen Wykstra. Because God is omnipotent, omniscient, and wholly good, there is a distinct difference between the mind of God and that of man. From this Wykstra draws out what he calls the Condition of Reasonable Epistemic Access (CORNEA), and explains CORNEA as: On the basis of his seeing no God-justifying good served by the fawn’s suffering, Rowe is entitled to claim “It appears that there is no such good” only if it is reasonable for Rowe to believe that, given his cognitive faculties and the use he has made of them, if the fawn’s suffering served such a good, he would likely see (have epistemic access to) it.14 According to Wykstra, when one wants to assess whether or not there was indeed some greater good that came from an evil event, and especially when it would seem no good could possibly have come from the event, one must ask the question of whether we would even have the ability to know the difference. Again turning to eschatology, the evangelical Christian thought is that evil will ultimately be overcome at the end of time and through the work of an omnipotent, omniscient, wholly good God. Additionally, based on the Bible, all things work together for good for the believer in Jesus. Nothing in either of these points provides mankind with epistemic knowledge to be able to identify exactly what those Stephen John Wykstra, “Rowe's Noseeum Arguments from Evil” in The Evidential Argument from Evil, ed. by Daniel Howard-Snyder (Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1996), 129. 14
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goods are. Therefore, it is plausible to believe that it may indeed be difficult if not impossible to identify a greater good in every case of evil. To use such difficulty as an indictment against God or to claim that God simply does not exist is to argue from silence, or worse yet, from ignorance. One thing is certain, the atheist cannot press his claim that evil is ultimately unjustifiable—which is what he must do to eliminate the existence of God via evil. For if some evil is ultimately unjust in this world, then there must be some ultimate standard of justice beyond this world. All injustice presupposes a standard of justice by which it is judged to be not-just. And an ultimate injustice demands an ultimate standard of justice. But this brings us right back to God, the ultimate standard of justice beyond the world. In short, the only way to disprove God via the problem of evil is to posit God as an ultimate moral standard of justice beyond the world. In this event, if atheism were true, it would be false; its argument turns out to be selfdefeating.15 Noting how this relates to the search for a greater good, the question may be asked why the atheist is even concerned with the case of evil. For if there is no God, and if mankind is here by blind evolutionary forces, then there is no basis from which to complain about the evil – it would simply be nature taking its course. If there is no God and evil exists, there is no justification in asking why since this would be indicative evolution at its best. Stated differently, if there is no God, and if naturalistic causes account for how all life has arrived at this point, then evil is no longer an issue of concern, as there is no longer any objective standard by which one could determine good or bad. With this being the case, the atheist must borrow from the Christian worldview in order to even come to the table with an argument from evil. Clearly this does not rest well with the atheist, so even he must know there is more. Natural Evil Many solid theologians have addressed the matter of moral evil, and it is not the intent of this work to revisit what others have already accomplished. However, this writer has found little if anything signifying a rebuttal to William Rowe’s argument from natural evil. Rowe suggests a hypothetical scenario whereby lightning strikes some remote area of
15
N. L. Geisler, Christian Apologetics (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1976), 227-228.
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forest, a fire begins, a fawn is burned, and after days of suffering dies.16 It is at this point that Rowe argues that there is no greater good that may be identified justifying the suffering of the fawn. Here this writer submits that Rowe is guilty of a significant error in how he assesses his fictional scenario. For if one is to understand whether or not there is some greater good, Rowe cannot appeal to the end result without evaluating the scenario he both constructed and offered as a whole. Thus, it is proposed that one must look to the root cause of the incident, namely the burning of the fawn, and then decide based on the root cause if there were indeed some greater good. In this case, Rowe appeals to the pain and suffering of the fawn. But what was the source of the pain and suffering? It was as a result of flesh being burned by the fire. The forest, however, did not spontaneously combust, so where did the fire come from in the first place? Lightning struck in a forest. It is suggested that this is indeed the root cause17 of the proffered scenario, as without the initial lightning strike, Rowe has no story to tell. Is it possible that there may be some greater good that comes from the discharge of lightning in the atmosphere? According to the National Severe Storms Laboratory, a division of NOAA, there is. The earth benefits from lightning in several ways. First, lightning helps the Earth maintain electrical balance. The Earth is recharged by thunderstorms. The Earth's surface and the atmosphere conduct electricity easily—the Earth is charged negatively and the atmosphere, positively. There is always a steady current of electrons flowing upwards from the entire surface of the Earth. Thunderstorms help transfer the negative charges back to Earth (lightning is generally negatively charged). Without thunderstorms and lightning, the earth-atmosphere electrical balance would disappear in 5 minutes. Lightning also makes ozone-producing chemicals.18
William L. Rowe, “The Problem of Evil & Some Varieties of Atheism� in The Evidential Argument from Evil, ed. by Daniel Howard-Snyder (Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1996), 4. 16
It is important to note that this writer has been trained in the use of the ABS Root Cause Methodology and has extensive experience investigating and identifying root causes for a host of injuries and incidents in the workplace. While Rowe would like to start with the suffering and ultimate death of the fawn, such a move is inappropriate and fails to find the root cause. The fawn was burned because of a forest fire, but lightning caused the fire. It is critical, then, to ensure that any assessment of the forest fire and suffering of the fawn include the lightning strike. If one finds the true root cause, and then is able to remove that cause, it is reasonable to believe that the injury or incident would not be repeatable. It is possible, however, that the true root cause cannot be removed without causing greater harm. Additionally, one cannot add a moral element to a natural evil and have the event remain a natural evil. 17
18 "National Severe
Storms Laboratory: Severe Weather 101: Lightning FAQ," NOAA, accessed July 4, 2014, www.nssl.noaa.gov/education/svrwx101/lightning/faq.
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Based on the NOAA information, it is argued that the existence of lightning is indeed beneficial and serves a greater good for all life on earth. It is possible for Rowe to alter his scenario such that a passing motorist carelessly tosses out a cigarette, but that change would also move the example from the realm of natural evil to one of moral evil. Rowe may choose to change the scenario in light of identifying the root cause and the necessity of lightning, but at this time we need not speculate as to how he might alter this example. One point is certain; the lightning in and of itself cannot be classified as an evil. This idea is consistent with Augustine of Hippo. I can conceive of waters without muddy commotion; but without settled continuity of parts no material form is an object of thought or of sensation in any way. Therefore even these muddy waters could not exist without the good which was the condition of their material existence. As to the reply that these evil things cannot be taken from such natures, I rejoin that neither can the good things be taken away. Why, then, should you call these things natural evils, on account of the evil things which you suppose cannot be taken away, and yet refuse to call them natural good things, on account of the good things which, as has been proved, cannot be taken away?19 It has been suggested that by relying on the root cause analysis as the means to identify the actual cause of the hypothetical fire, one might be guilty of causal overdetermination. Briefly described, consider a rock and a window. If someone were to pick up a rock and throw it at the window, and the window break, to claim that the rock to be the root cause for the window breaking would be guilty of causal overdetermination since the rock had to be thrown by a person in order for the rock to be in a state where it was capable of breaking the window. While the writer believes that it is unwarranted to challenge this theodicy based on causal overdetermination, this conclusion is held loosely and subject to correction. First, because this is a hypothetical scenario, the only data that can be addressed are those points allowed by Rowe in his original argument. To add additional points or concerns may be interesting, but introduces non-evidenced assumptions. Second, in examining causal overdetermination, this writer has only found this charge levied when there was human agency involved in the scenario(s). If this is a valid understanding, then causal overdetermination cannot be applied to a case of natural evil. A Theodicy – The Summary View `In the opening of this paper Rowe’s syllogism for the non-existence of God was presented. He maintained: Augustine of Hippo, “St. Augustin: The Writings against the Manichaeans and against the Donatists,” in A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, First Series, trans. R. Stothert, ed. P. Schaff (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Company, 1887), 4:146. 19
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There exists instances of intense suffering which an omnipotent, omniscient being could have prevented without thereby losing some greater good or permitting some evil equally bad or worse. An omniscient, wholly good being would prevent the occurrence of any intense suffering it could, unless it could not do so without thereby losing some greater good or permitting some evil equally bad or worse. There does not exist an omnipotent, omniscient, wholly good being. 20 It is here suggested that the first premise is invalid on the grounds that it places man on an equal plane with God, and therefore presumes that man would have knowledge equal to that of an omniscient, omnipotent, wholly good being. Likewise, premise two does not obtain on the same grounds. In response, based on the research presented here, it is believed that a greater good has indeed been identified as it relates to Rowe’s hypothetical scenario, and may be answered. P1: Evil exists in the world. P2: Evil may be divided into acts by moral agents and acts of nature. P3: Acts of nature involve no human agency. P4: Lightning is an act of nature. P5: The existence of lightning provides a greater good for life on earth than would be found were lightning not present. Therefore, the existence of lightning does not mitigate against the existence of God. It is the opinion of this writer that neither the Free Will nor the Greater Good Defenses, when used alone, refute the atheistic charge. Similarly, to use the Soul-Building theodicy alone necessitates the a priori view that souls truly exist. Because the atheist does not subscribe to life after death, it would appear to be a weak move at best to use soul building alone as a line of reasoning. While it is beyond the scope of this paper to address the specifics, it is suggested that the collection of data related to near death experiences (NDEs) since the 1970s has significant potential to address metaphysical objections to the existence of life after death, and as such may be a valid mechanism by which to overcome a priori rejections based on metaphysical biases. The Bible has been offered as source information specifically for identifying the issue of evil and the timing for its defeat. What has been understood as natural law allows for order and stability, as demonstrated through at least one reason for the need of lightning. William L. Rowe, "The Problem Of Evil And Varieties Of Atheism," in The Problem of Evil, ed. Marilyn McCord Adams and Robert Merrihew Adams (New York: Oxford Press, 1990), 127-128. 20
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Beyond this, Wykstra has offered that it is entirely plausible that even if there is a greater good following from an evil event, it is questionable whether or not we have epistemic access to identify exactly what that greater good might be. When these six elements are blended together, a strong theodicy emerges, and It answers the questions originally presented: 1) Why is there any evil at all; 2) Why are there the types and kinds of evils that there are; 3) Why is there the amount of evil that there is; 4) Why is there the particular evils that there are; and 5) Why does God allow moral evils, and, natural evils, as He does? It is suggested that the presented theodicy, although in its neophyte stages, has explanatory scope, explanatory power, is plausible, does not suffer from being ad hoc, and as a result, the theodicy may indeed shed light on other areas of concern or interest. The three major elements of the theodicy, namely Free Will, Greater Good, and SoulBuilding, when combined, have ability to account for all of the known facts. There is explanatory power in the blended response because the theodicy can account for the known facts without forcing those facts to fit any a priori position. Further, there is no ambiguity regarding why evil exists, the types of evil, the amounts of evil, the existence of moral and natural evil, and the allowance of the same by God. The theodicy is plausible, and it does not bring non-evidenced assumptions into the discussion. While some may indeed challenge the introduction of God into the discussion, it would be necessary to understand if that challenge were based on an objection to the data or a rejection (meaning an a priori metaphysical rejection). Finally, the theodicy provides illumination, as it does answer the five questions offered up earlier in the paper. It is important to state again that this theodicy is only in the earliest of stages. Walls provided over 150 pages just in dealing with the issue of whether or not Hell exists. Feinberg produced just under 500 pages in expressing his dealings with the issue of evil. Plantinga offered just over 100 pages in establishing the logical argument that demonstrates the reasonableness of the Free Will Defense. It is understood that in a paper of this length one simply cannot address every possible concern that may be expressed by the skeptic, but it is a beginning, and, this beginning is built by intentionally standing on the shoulders of those theologians who have come before and have begun laying the groundwork for rebutting the argument that because evil exists, God does not. Evil is not an indictment against God or his existence.
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ISRAEL’S SONG OF REDEMPTION: ISAIAH’S USE OF THE SONG OF THE SEA By Adam Howell, Ph.D. The Song of the Sea in Exodus 15:1-18 has received much attention as it pertains to the poetic elements of Hebrew songs.1 However, comparably little attention has been given to the overall function of the song in Exodus and in the rest of the Old Testament. As a spontaneous eruption of praise after Israel’s crossing of the Red Sea, I will argue that the function of the song in Exodus 15 is to portray Yahweh as the incomparable, covenant Warrior-Redeemer who triumphantly leads his people through history. Following the analysis of Exodus 15 in its context, we will then examine Isaiah 12:1-6. Particularly, Isaiah 12:2 appears to quote the song in order to highlight a message of hope and redemption. In order to analyze Isaiah’s use of the song, we will first deal with the Song of the Sea in its original context in Exodus. This exegesis will seek to demonstrate that Isaiah makes an intentional use of the Song of the Sea not only to draw the reader’s attention to the exodus event and the themes of the exodus tradition, but also to recast the themes and function of the Song of the Sea into the eschatological vision of Isaiah 11 and 12. Exodus 15:1-18 in its Original Context The final form of Exodus 15:1-18 in the Hebrew Bible exhibits a style of poetry and poetic elements that lead to the main point and function of the song. Although it is not the main focus of this paper to analyze poetic style, this analysis is necessary to discover the original context, message, and function of the Song of the Sea. One will find that almost every poetic element employed within Exodus 15:1-18 lends itself to a proper interpretation of the song. This section will seek to show that the context, structure, and poetic devices of the Song of the Sea demonstrate that Yahweh is the incomparable, covenant Warrior
Adam Howell is Adjunct Professor at Boyce College and Southern Seminary Online.
A representative sample of those who have done work in the area of poetics in Exodus 15 includes Frank M. Cross and David N. Freedman, “The Song of Miriam,” JNES 14, no. 4 (1955): 237-250; David N. Freedman, “The Song of the Sea,” in Pottery, Poetry, and Prophecy: Studies in Early Hebrew Poetry (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1980), 179-86; Freedman, “Strophe and Meter in Exodus 15,” in Pottery, Poetry, and Prophecy: Studies in Early Hebrew Poetry (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1980), 187-227; James Muilenburg, “A Liturgy on the Triumphs of Yahweh,” in Theodoro Vriezen, Studia Biblical et Semitica (Wageningen, Netherlands: H. Veenman & Zonen, 1966), 233-251; Maribeth Howell, “Exodus 15:1b-18: A Poetic Analysis, Ephermerides Theologicae Lovanienses 65, no. 1 (1989): 5-42. 1
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Redeemer of Israel who triumphantly leads his people through the entirety of their history. The Context of Exodus 15:1-18 For the purposes of this paper, we will consider Exodus 15:1-18 to be the main body of the song. Therefore, it is important to see how this section fits into the context, especially following the narrative of Exodus 14, and the subsequent narrative/poetry combination of Exodus 15:19-21. Several scholars argue that Miriam’s song in 15:21 was the initial, spontaneous song, and that Moses expanded her antiphonal song shortly thereafter. 2 Regardless of which song came first, the connection of Miriam’s song to the narrative of Exodus 14 may support our reading of Exodus 15:1-18. Scholars debate whether Hebrew poetry is derived from its corresponding narrative or whether the narratives are later renditions of the earlier songs. 3 Richard Patterson makes a convincing argument that the Song of Miriam (and hence the Song of Moses) is integrally tied to the narrative of Exodus 14 as a spontaneous eruption of praise to Yahweh.4 He claims that a smooth transition exists in the narrative between 14:31 and 15:19. J. Gerald Janzen more specifically argues that Exodus 15:19 is a “throwback” to Exodus 14:26-29. Almost all of the major events narrated in Exodus 14:26-29 are recapped in 15:19. Janzen concludes that this is an example of analepsis, where information is withheld in the story in order to enhance the dramatic effect. In other words, Moses moves the details of the narrative in Exodus 14:26-29 to 15:19 in order to make the song in Exodus 15:1-18 more dramatic and timely. He then concludes the section with the original, spontaneous Song of Miriam and the women. This structure places a strong emphasis on the Song of Moses in 15:1-18 while at the same time drawing the themes of the surrounding narrative into the song. Patterson also sees a connection between the themes of Exodus 14 and 15. Patterson shows that the main body of the song in 15:1-18 is also closely related to the narrative in chapter 14. He lists the following items as points of connection between the two passages.5 Richard D. Patterson, “The Song of Redemption,” WTJ 57, no. 2 (1995): 453; see also J. Gerald Janzen, “Song of Moses, Song of Miriam: Who is Seconding Whom?” CBQ 54, no. 2 (1992): 216. 2
3 For an argument that poetry is a
product of the narrative account see Richard D. Patterson, “Victory at the Sea: Prose and Poetry in Exodus 14-15,” Bib Sac 161, no. 641 (2004): 43-44, 51. For the view that the poetic sections have shaped the narrative see Michael A. Grisanti, “Old Testament Poetry as a Vehicle for Historiography,” Bib Sac 161, no. 642 (2004): 163-75 and Ronald L. Giese, “Strophic Hebrew Verse as Free Verse,” JSOT 19 no. 61 (1994): 29-38. 4
Patterson, Victory at the Sea, 44-49.
5
Patterson, Victory at the Sea, 49.
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Emphasis on the “sea” and “waters” (Exod 14:2, 9, 16, 21-23, 26-28, 29; 15:4-5, 8, 10) Egyptians perished in the sea (Exod 14:23, 26-28; 15:1, 4-5, 10) Waters piling up by the breath of Yahweh (Exod 14:21-22; 15:8) Theme of pursuit (Exod 14:4, 8, 17, 23; 15:9) Close similarities of Exodus 14:21-29 and 15:8-10 These similarities and thematic connections demonstrate the close relationship between the narrative and the song. However, the song appears to have a different emphasis than the narrative. The book of Exodus attributes the rescue of Israel from Egypt to Moses and Yahweh (3:10; 32:1, 7; cf. 3:8, 17; 32:11). On the other hand, the overwhelming emphasis in the Song of the Sea is on the deeds and triumph of Yahweh that elicited the rescue of Israel. If one reads the narrative in light of this observation, one can attribute Patterson’s thematic connections to the work of Yahweh. In other words, the emphasis on the sea and waters ought to be understood as an emphasis on the natural agent of Yahweh’s judgment. The Egyptians perishing in the sea should be read as a direct act of a triumphant Yahweh. The theme of pursuit is quoted in the song as a taunt (15:9) demonstrating that the Egyptians’ apparent defeat of Israel (14:10-12) was always within Yahweh’s control. Reading Exodus 14-15 in this way demonstrates the tight connection between the structure and themes of the Song. Miriam’s Song was likely the spontaneous eruption of praise while Moses composed the longer Song of the Sea shortly after the crossing of the Red Sea commemorating the details of the event in poetic style. Moses’ Song could then be sung throughout Israel’s history as the oral remembrance of Yahweh’s dramatic rescue of his people. Additionally, the thematic connections of the narrative and poetry and the emphasis placed on Moses’ Song demonstrate that the totality of the exodus event is attributable to the wondrous deeds of Yahweh. The Structure of Exodus 15:1-18 After perusing the current literature on the Song of the Sea, one will find three major categories by which scholars structure the song.6 Table A1 provides the structures of the major proponents of each of these three categories. A quick glance at these structures provides two early observations. First, although these structures vary on the details of See Table A1 in the Appendix. The structures in Table A1 are from the following sources: John D. W. Watts, “The Song of the Sea – Ex XV,” VT 7, no. 4 (1957): 371-80; Cross and Freedman, “Song of Miriam”; Freedman, “Song of the Sea”; George W. Coats, “The Song of the Sea,” CBQ 31, no. 1 (1969): 1-17; Muilenburg, “Liturgy on the Triumphs of Yahweh”; Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Poetry (New York: Basic Book, Inc. Publishers, 1985), 50-54; Marc Rozelaar, “The Song of the Sea (Exodus XV, 1b-18),” VT, 2 (1952): 221-8. 6
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their divisions, almost all of them agree that a break occurs in the middle of the song (either at v. 12 or at v. 13). This break moves the content of the song from Yahweh’s immediate victory at the Red Sea to Yahweh’s covenant promise of continued presence and preservation in the wilderness wanderings (15:13), entrance in the Promised Land (15:1416), and into the eschatological future (15:17-18). Secondly, although these scholars argue for different divisions in the song, the content and trajectory of their respective structures is very similar. Therefore, regardless of the structure deduced from the song, the content and emphases of the song remain the same. The bipartite structure of David N. Freedman and the tripartite structure proposed by James Muilenburg appear to be the best arguments for a unified structure of the song and will therefore be used in this paper to demonstrate the content and emphases of the Song of the Sea.7 Freedman’s bipartite structure was proposed in a work that was a response to and enhancement of Muilenburg’s previous work.8 Both men argue that Exodus 15:6, 11, 16b serve as refrains and are the starting point for structuring the song. Muilenburg includes 15:1b as an introduction to the song whereas Freedman views it more as a song title, thus leaving it out of his overall structure. Freedman also argues that 15:3-5 and 15:17-18 are opening and closing stanzas that are not part of the song, but rather an introduction and conclusion. On the other hand, Muilenburg includes 15:2-5 as the first stanza, giving him a third stanza in his structure. He argues that 15:17, 18 are a hymnic celebration and coda respectively. Therefore, although one scholar sees two sections (Freedman’s 15:3-5 (intro), 15:7-10 and 15:12-16a) and the other sees three sections (Muilenburg’s 15:2-5, 15:7-10, and 15:12-16ab), both scholars present their stanza divisions using the same verses. The chief difference in their structures relates to their descriptions of the sections (introduction/stanza/strophe/conclusion) rather than to the actual divisions. Therefore, we will speak generally about the “structure” of the song while keeping in mind that both bipartite and tripartite structures are viable options. The structure of the Song of the Sea gives evidence that the function of the song is to demonstrate that Yahweh is the incomparable, covenant Warrior-Redeemer of Israel who triumphantly leads his people through the entirety of their history. The first thing to note is that Exodus 15:11 (the second of three refrains) stands at the middle of the song immediately before the section break at verse 12. Everything prior to verse 11 is about the crossing of the Red Sea and the triumphant exodus from Egypt while all that follows is about the remainder of Israel’s history, perhaps as a generalized prophecy based on God’s 7
See Freedman’s and Muilenburg’s detailed structures in Table A2a and Table A3 respectively.
8
Freedman, “The Song of the Sea.”
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covenantal promises to Abraham.9 It is certainly appropriate that in the middle of this great song, there would be the strong poetic statement that Yahweh alone is the incomparable God of the Hebrews. Therefore, I take verse 11 to be the center and main focus of the Song of the Sea. Yahweh is the incomparable God of Israel and has demonstrated this fact through his “glorious deeds, doing wonders” (15:11). The second major emphasis lies in the depiction of Yahweh’s character in the song. Following Yahweh’s triumph at the Red Sea, one would expect a song that depicts Yahweh as a glorious victor. Indeed, the language of a warrior is present in almost every stanza and refrain.10 Verse 1 begins the song with a spontaneous shout of Yahweh’s glorious triumph and exaltation. The language of Yahweh’s right hand, power, strength, and fury is prevalent in the first half of the song. God’s victorious deeds of throwing Pharaoh and his battalions into the sea, overthrowing the adversaries, and strategically controlling the chaotic waters of the Red Sea are also prevalent in the song. In verse 3, Yahweh is called a איש מלחמהfollowed by a declaration of his name. This phrase appeared to be so strong in the Jewish ear that the rabbinic tradition softened it so that Yahweh does not appear as the agent of destructive battle.11 In the second half of the song, the language of Yahweh’s strength changes from his direct warrior influence to the fear of the nations because the word has spread about his fury. The inhabitants of the land “melt away,” they “tremble,” and are “still as a stone” because of “terror and dread” (15:15, 14, and 16 respectively). The third major emphasis found in the structure of the song is God’s covenantal relationship with his people. The song opens in verse 2 with the mention of אלהי אבי.12 Moses and the Israelites recognize there is a covenantal relationship with this strong Savior. This verse marks the beginning of the song proper for Freedman, and the opening stanza for Muilenburg. The song does not use this covenantal language again until verse 9 Although Moses was called
a prophet (Deut 34:10), it is doubtful that he prophesied similarly to the body of literature we call “the Prophets.” It is more likely that Moses is recalling the promises given to Abraham that God would cause his people to prosper and bring them into “their land” (See Gen 15). This idea comes from Dewey M. Beegle, Moses, The Servant of Yahweh (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1972), 165. 10 Note that the
only section that does not contain an explicit reference to Yahweh’s war-like strength is the refrain in 16b. However, with the particle עדconnecting the verse, one sees that the “greatness” of Yahweh’s arm in 16a is sustained “until” his people “pass through.” Therefore, I even see hints of Yahweh’s warrior greatness in 16a. Targum Onkelos (Israel Drazin, Targum Onkelos to Exodus: An English Translation of the Text with Analysis and Commentary (Denver: Ktav Publishing House, 1990), 152) translates Exodus 15:3 as “The Lord is a master of victory in war” rather than saying the Lord is the warrior. 11
Bruce K. Waltke, An Old Testament Theology (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2007), 139 sees this phrase as a reference to Abraham. 12
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13, again with the the words חסדand גאל. Verse 13 marks the point where scholars agree there is a shift from the Red Sea event to the future of Israel. Therefore, at the beginning of each major section of the song one finds substantial references to God’s covenant relationship with his people. This covenant relationship is not only what caused God to act on behalf of his people in Egypt, but it is also the grounds for his continued presence (Exod 33:13-14) and preservation (Exod 32:13-14). The last refrain of the song, verse 16b, also employs covenantal language with the phrases, עמךand קנית עם־זו. These references to the covenant between Yahweh and his people, and their strategic placement in the song, demonstrate that Yahweh’s actions on behalf of his people were grounded in his covenant love for them. This covenant not only benefited Israel, but it also caused repercussions upon Israel’s enemies. Yahweh’s covenantal love elicits salvation of and care for his people. Verse 2 speaks of personal salvation ( )ויהי־לי לישועהfound in Yahweh. Ronald Allen concludes that the phrase עזי וזמרתis an “odd couple” intentionally spliced together to indicate that Yahweh is Israel’s “strong song” or “reason for singing.”13 The language of Yahweh’s saving care appears again in verse 13 with the ideas of redemption ()עם־זו גאלת, Yahweh’s abode ( קדשך )נוה,14 and Yahweh’s leadership ()נהלת נחית. Finally, 16b-18 concludes the song with Yahweh’s continued preservation and care. He has purchased his people ()קנית עם־זו, he will bring his people to their land ()תבאמו ותטעמו, and he will reign as their triumphant King eternally ()ימלך לעלם ועד. The fourth and final emphasis found in the structure of the song has already been mentioned. The shift from the Red Sea events (15:4-12) to Israel’s future in the wilderness and conquest (15:13-16), and subsequently their eschatological future (15:17-18) should not be neglected. As this paper seeks in its second half to argue that Isaiah recasts Exodus 15:2 in light of his eschatological vision, this transition in the song will play a significant role. The transition from Red Sea history to Israel’s future demonstrates that although the song in Exodus 15 is born out of the spontaneous praise of Miriam and the women, its application reaches far beyond the events at the Red Sea. The Poetic Devices of Exodus 15:1-18 In this last section, we will seek to demonstrate that the poetic devices employed Ronald B. Allen, “Worship in the Psalms: Exodus 15 and the Praise of God, Part Two,” Reformation and Renewal 9, no. 3 (2000): 112. 13
I take the language of Yahweh’s abode to be representative of his continued presence with his people, an aspect of his tender care for them through close relationship and expiation for sin. It is difficult to determine the precise nature of this presence, but it most likely refers to either the tabernacle or the temple, the place where Yahweh met with his people. 14
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throughout the song lend themselves to our earlier conclusion that the song is about incomparable, Warrior-Yahweh and his covenantal love for his people throughout their history. Table A4 lists the various poetic devices and their references. 15 Alliteration, synecdoche, and staircase parallelism are the most significant devices, and therefore we will examine those specifically, understanding that many of the poetic devices listed in Table A4 appear to support the proposed function of Exodus 15:1-18. One can see the occurrences of alliteration in Table A4. These alliterations emphasize Yahweh’s character. He is portrayed as “greatly exalted” (15:1a), as a personal God of strength and salvation (15:2), as sovereign over his creation (15:8), as the victor over the enemy (in the taunt of 15:9), and as the covenant shepherd (15:17). These characteristics of Yahweh demonstrate his great victory using his “glorious deeds,” grounded in his covenant with Israel. Next, synecdoche emphasizes Yahweh’s individual might over the entirety of the forces of Egypt. Verse 1b names the “horse and its rider” ( )סוס ורכבוas representative of the entirety of the Pharaoh’s forces.16 The “horse and its rider” synecdoche is the object of Yahweh’s victorious action in 1b and is therefore representative of the forces defeated by Yahweh, highlighting his extensive victory. Verses 6 and 16 employ synecdoche to emphasize Yahweh’s overwhelming strength in his “right hand” and “great arm.” This power of Yahweh gloriously “shatters the enemy” (15:6) and causes “terror and dread” to fall on the inhabitants of Canaan (15:15-16). Once again the use of poetic devices emphasizes Yahweh’s great victory at the Red Sea and his continued sovereignty over Israel’s obstacles. The final poetic device to be particularly discussed here is staircase parallelism. One finds this device in each of the three refrains (15:6, 11, 16b) and in verse 13. The first refrain as stated previously, emphasizes Yahweh’s glorious strength over his enemies, but the parallel lines indicate that his glorious power culminates in the destruction of the enemy. The parallel lines in the second refrain (15:11) emphasize Yahweh’s incomparability as displayed in his “glorious deeds” and “wonders.” The addition of this poetic device along with its placement in the structure adds support to this major emphasis in the song. The Table A4 is not intended to make any judgments concerning the various authors’ proposed poetic devices. It is simply a compilation of the proposed evidence. The sources are as follows: Maribeth Howell, “Exodus 15,1b-18: A Poetic Analysis;” Cross and Freedman, “The Song of Miriam;” Patterson, “Song of Redemption;” Muilenburg, “Liturgy on the Triumphs of Yahweh;” Freedman, “Strophe and Meter in Exodus 15;” Freedman, “The Song of the Sea;” J.P. van der Westhuizen, “Literary Device in Exodus 15:1-18 and Deut 32:1-43 as a Criterion for Determining Their Literary Strands,” in W.C. van Wyk (ed.), OTSWA 17/18 (1984): 57-73 (the poetic devices included from van der Westhuizen’s work are cited from Maribeth Howell, “Exodus 15,1b-18.” 15
The closely related hendiadys of verse 4 ( )מרכבתו פרעה וחילalso demonstrates Moses’ use of this poetic device to encapsulate the whole of Pharaoh’s forces. 16
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third refrain (15:16b) uses parallelism to show that Yahweh’s people are in covenant with him. Verse 13 provides an odd use of staircase parallelism since it occurs outside of the three refrains. However, since these parallel lines occur in the transition of the song from the Red Sea events to Israel’s future, one can see that it sets the tone for the remainder of the song. Yahweh has led his people with covenantal love, and ultimately, he has guided them (or will guide them) to his “holy abode.” Since the context appears to be in the wilderness, this “abode” could be a reference to the tabernacle. However, if this verse in fact sets the tone for the second half of the song, one observes, in staircase fashion, the movement in verse 17 to the “mountain” of Yahweh, the “place” of Yahweh’s “abode,” namely, his “sanctuary.” The imperfects of 15:17 place this verse in the future, and therefore it is best to see the “sanctuary” here as a reference to the place of Yahweh’s eschatological reign (cf. 15:18). Therefore, the staircase parallelism of 15:13 points to the climactic reign of Yahweh when his people finally have rest in their land (cf. Exod 33:14).17 Isaiah’s Use of Exodus 15:2a We have argued so far that the Song of the Sea portrays Yahweh as the incomparable Warrior-Redeemer of Israel throughout its history. In this section, we will examine Isaiah’s intertextual quote of the song in Isaiah 12:2b.18 We will seek to show that Isaiah intentionally quotes the song in order to bring to the reader’s mind the entirety of the exodus narrative and tradition. However, in proper intertextual fashion, he recasts the song for a new day.19 We will examine the context of Isaiah 11–12, their parallels with the exodus narrative, and the function of the hymn in 12:1-6.
Todd Murphy places staircase parallelism and climactic parallelism in the same category and defines it as, “A literary construction that uses parallelism in a stepladder type of pattern to the climax of the thought.” in Todd J. Murphy, Pocket Dictionary for the Study of Biblical Hebrew (Downer’s Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2003), 41. 17
See Brian D. Russell, The Song of the Sea: The Date of Composition and Influence of Exodus 15:1-21 (New York: Peter Lang Publishing, 2007), 97-107 for an excellent discussion of Isaiah’s intertextual use of Exodus 15:2a. Although he examines Isaiah 12:2b in order to propose a date for the composition of Exodus 15, he exhaustively demonstrates that Isaiah 12:2b is a proper intertextual quote and can be analyzed as such. 18
19Waltke
notes that intertextuality is only helpful if the author enhances or expands upon the meaning and usage of the original passage. He uses the term “transformative intertextuality. Waltke, Old Testament Theology, 127-8.
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The Context of Isaiah 11-12 Isaiah 11–12 concludes the first major section of Isaiah 1–39.20 Chapters 7–12 recount the Assyrian invasion and the deportation of Israel by Tiglath-Pileser III.21 These chapters display Yahweh’s apparent rejection of his people constituting a reversal of the covenant promises given to Abraham and sung about in the Song of the Sea. However, Isaiah does not leave his reader in the despair of Yahweh’s rejection. He envisions an eschatological day when Yahweh’s Messiah will bring justice (Isa 11:3-4), peace (11:6-9a), and knowledge (11:9b).22 The use of the phrase “in that day” (11:10, 11; 12:1, 3) also places this vision in the eschaton.23 Therefore, it appears that Isaiah concludes his prophecy of depressing historical events with the hope of an eschatological vision of Yahweh’s peace and restoration. The Parallels between Isaiah 11-12 and the Exodus Tradition The most obvious connections to the exodus tradition in Isaiah 11–12 are found in 11:11, 15-16, and 12:1-6. Isaiah 11:11 states that Yahweh will extend his hand (cf. Exod 15:6) a “second time” ( )יוסיף …שניתindicating that this type of salvation has been wrought before. However, Isaiah expands Yahweh’s action in the eschaton to nations represented by all nautical directions.24 This expansion indicates that Yahweh’s eschatological action on behalf of his people will reach far beyond Egypt and the Red Sea. Additionally, it will be an equally impressive display of the “right hand” of Yahweh’s power when he gathers his people from among the nations.25 Isaiah 11:15-16 is perhaps a more explicit reference to the exodus tradition, again 20
Russell, The Song of the Sea, 103.
Andrew E. Hill and John H. Walton, A Survey of the Old Testament, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2000), 417. 21
22 Interestingly,
Targum Jonathan translates “branch” in Isaiah 11:1 as “Messiah.” The Jewish tradition evidently saw this as a reference to the Messianic age. Reference located in J. F. Stenning, ed. and trans. The Targum of Isaiah (London: Oxford, 1949), 40. Interestingly, the Exodus Rabbah and Mekhilta offer interpretations of the Song of the Sea as an eschatological song to be sing in the Messianic age. J. Alec Motyer, The Prophecy of Isaiah: An Introduction and Commentary (Downer’s Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1993), 125; Geoffrey W. Grogan, Isaiah, in vol. 6 of The Expositor’s Bible Commentary, eds. Tremper Longman III and David E. Garland (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2008), 549. 23
24
Motyer, The Prophecy o f Isaiah, 125-6.
Motyer says, “A second time emphasizes the thought of a repeated action and deliberately contrasts the coming act with the Lord’s classic act at the exodus (cf. verse 16b). But this will be a wider exodus from a world-wide dispersion.” Motyer, The Prophecy of Isaiah, 125-6. 25
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recast in light of Israel’s new situation. Isaiah speaks about the Sea of Egypt, Yahweh’s hand, Yahweh’s breath/wind, division of waters, and walking in sandals.26 In 11:16, Isaiah says that this second exodus will be directly comparable to the time that Israel “came up from the land of Egypt.” Isaiah 12:1-6 brings to mind the exodus tradition with references to the Lord’s anger (Isa 12:1; cf. Exod 32), the Lord’s comfort (Isa 12:1 [ נחםas a noun], cf. Exod 32:14 [ נחםas a verb]), water from the wells of salvation (Isa 12:3; cf. Exod 17), Yahweh’s deeds among the peoples (Isa 12:4; cf. Exod 15:11-16a), Yahweh’s glorious actions (Isa 12:5; cf. Exod 15:1b, 21), and Yahweh’s presence (Isa 12:6; cf. Exod 33:14). In addition, the explicit quote from Exodus 15:2a points the reader specifically to the song intended to remind Israel of her heritage each time it was sung. These few observations about the text of Isaiah 11–12 point to the conclusion that Isaiah understood his vision of a second exodus in light of the first exodus and sought to bring to the listener’s mind the same themes and pictures found in the exodus tradition. Once again, Isaiah did not leave those pictures in the past tradition, but brought them forward for his present hearer. The Function of Isaiah 12:1-6, Particularly 12:2b We have argued that Isaiah is drawing on the exodus tradition in his eschatological vision, but in what way does he recast Exodus 15:2a in Isaiah 12:2b? It is my contention that Isaiah understands this eschatological vision in light of the entirety of Israel’s history. Within this history, there is powerful redemption from Egypt, scandalous sin with the golden calf that becomes Israel’s paradigmatic behavior, and Yahweh’s continued covenant faithfulness despite Israel’s sin. Isaiah takes this pattern of Israel’s history and reverses it in his representation of the song to be sung in the eschaton. In 12:1, Isaiah pictures Israel’s paradigmatic sin with the idea of Yahweh’s anger. He has already placed the listener in the context of the exodus tradition (11:15-16), and now brings to mind the golden calf incident. On account of the singular verbs and the singular pronominal suffixes, Isaiah is probably drawing from a tradition of “the sayings of Moses.”27 In Exodus 32:10-12, Moses indicates that Yahweh’s burning fury was a strong reality following Israel’s worship of the golden calf. Isaiah remembers this incident, but he I understand the image of God’s people walking across in sandals as a reference to the dryness of the ground on which they walk. They can make it through with sandals that do not get stuck in the mud. 27The designation of this tradition from which Isaiah takes this quote is hypothetical. Because of the singular verbs, the singular suffixes, and the proximity to the direct quote in Isaiah 12:2b, I propose that Isaiah had access to or at least was aware of a tradition of Mosaic sayings. 26
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draws on the finale where Yahweh holds fast to his covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (Exod 32:13) and relents ( נחםin Exod 32:14) concerning his anger, thus bringing “comfort” ( נחםin Isa 12:1) to his people. This action of Yahweh was not due to a flaw in his character, but in fact was the display of the consistency of his character regarding the covenant with his people. In Isaiah 12:2, the prophet quotes directly from the Song of the Sea in order to conclude his poetic reversal of Israel’s history with a second powerful, redemptive exodus by the mighty hand of Yahweh. In verse 1, Isaiah alludes to Israel’s paradigmatic sin that eventually led to its deportation. Now, he draws the listener to the context of the exodus and Yahweh’s victory over the enemy. Since the context of Isaiah 11–12 is replete with exodus overtones, he does not have to quote the entire Song of the Sea. By quoting the initial lines, the acute listener will begin to mull in his mind the entire content of Israel’s initial victory song. Therefore, Isaiah has completed his eschatological reversal of Israel’s history with the same song, themes, and content that began its national history. According to Isaiah’s vision, an incomparable, covenant Warrior-Redeemer has now completed the triumphal procession of his people throughout the entirety of its history. The following chiasm may help to see the flow of Isaiah’s use of Exodus 15:2a in Isaiah 12:2b. Exodus of Israel expressed in the Song of the Sea (Exod 15:1-18) Israel’s paradigmatic sin at Sinai (Exodus 32) Yahweh’s perpetual covenant faithfulness despite Israel’s sin28 (Exod 32:13-14; Isa 12:1) Israel’s paradigmatic sin remembered (Isa 12:1) Exodus event remembered and recast using the Song of the Sea (Isa 12:2b)
It is important to keep in mind that Isaiah does not change the content of the Song of the Sea with his minimal quote. Rather, he enhances it and expands its application far beyond what Israel could have seen standing beside the Red Sea. Moses and the Israelites envisioned a covenant Warrior who had promised to bring his people triumphantly into their land under the direction and leadership of his presence (Exod 15:1-18). Now, Isaiah has taken that same memory and placed it in the broader context of Israel’s redemptive history. By doing this, he gives great confidence to those experiencing the Assyrian invasion that Yahweh is their incomparable God and they are his treasured people.
28It
is important to keep in mind that Israel’s sin was not simply by-passed. The sacrificial system, and the Lord’s discipline with the Assyrian invasion showed that Yahweh still dealt with Israel’s sin. However, in Isaiah’s vision, the final picture is of a triumphant King who has kept his covenant with is people and brought them to their land (Zion).
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Conclusion Israel’s history, as it is portrayed in the Old Testament, consisted of a perpetual waxing and waning of covenant faithfulness. On the other hand, although Yahweh disciplined Israel for its sin, he never completely rejected his people, thus upholding his commitment to the Abrahamic covenant. Likewise, his covenant faithfulness will be as sure in the eschaton as it was at the Red Sea when Israel saw the dead Egyptian bodies lining the seashore. The song Israel sang that day was a spontaneous eruption of praise to their Warrior-Redeemer. The context, structure, and poetic style of Exodus 15:1-18 demonstrate that Moses and the Israelites could not help but speak of Yahweh as the powerful, sovereign, Warrior who displayed his burning fury by the sea. At the same time, Moses and the Israelites understood that because of a covenant made with their father Abraham, Yahweh would continue his redemptive action until they experienced peace. Isaiah draws from the exodus tradition and explicitly quotes Exodus 15:2a in order to give Israel hope during a time of national turmoil. In the wake of Israel’s sin and subsequent deportation, the peace of a land flowing with milk and honey seemed impossible. However, the prophet Isaiah, drawing on the same themes found in the Song of the Sea and the exodus tradition, pointed Israel once again to its covenant Warrior-Redeemer who will one day rescue his people with a “mighty hand and an outstretched arm.
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APPENDICES Table A1: Structural Arrangements of Exodus 15:1-18 Bipartite Structure Watts/Childs
Cross/Freedman
Section 1 1b-12
Stanza 1 (1-12)
Tripartite Structure Coats
Muilenburg
Alter
Introduction 1b
Section 1 1b-8
1:1 (1-5) Unit 1 4-10
Stanza 1 2-5 Refrain 6
1:3 (9-12)
Section 2 13-17
Stanza 2 (13-18)
Coda 11 Unit 2 12-17
2:1 (13-16a) 2:2 (16b-18)
Coda 18
Stanza 3 12-16ab Refrain 16cd
Prologue 1 Strophe 1 2-5 (6 “verses”)
1:2 (6-8) Stanza 2 7-10 Refrain 11
Quadripartite Structure Rozelaar
Strophe 2 6-10 (12 “verses”) Section 2 9-11 Section 3 12-18
Conclusion 17-18
Strophe 3 11-13 (6 “verses”) Strophe 4 14-17 (12 “verses”) Epilogue 18
Table A2a: David N. Freedman’s Structure of Exodus 15:1-18 with Metrical Analysis Section Title Exordium Opening Stanza (inclusio) Refrain 1 Strophe IA Strophe IB Refrain 2 Strophe IIA Strophe IIB Refrain 3 Closing Stanza (inclusio)
Meter 2:2 2:2/2:2 3:3 2:2/2:2 2:2/2:2/2:2 3:3 2:2/2:2/2:2 2:2/2:2 2:2/2:2/2:2 2:2/2:2/2:2 3:3 2:2/2:2/2:2 2:2/2:2 3:3 or 2:2/2:2 (?) 2:2 2:2/2:2 2:2
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Verse v.2 v. 3 v. 4 v.5 v.6 vv.7-8 v.9 v.10 v.11 vv.12-13 v. 14 v. 15 v. 16a v. 16b v. 17 v. 18
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Table A2b: David N. Freedman’s Structure of Exodus 15:1-18 with Metrical Analysis Section Title Exordium
Opening Stanza (inclusio)
Meter
2:2 2:2/2:2 3:3
Refrain 1
2:2/2:2
Strophe IA
2:2/2:2/2:2 3:3
Strophe IB
2:2/2:2/2:2 2:2/2:2
Refrain 2
2:2/2:2/2:2
Strophe IIA
2:2/2:2/2:2
3:3
Strophe IIB
2:2/2:2/2:2 2:2/2:2
Verse and Notes v.2 The Lord is strong bringing salvation. Personal salvation – “My salvation” Covenantal language – “my father’s God” God is worthy of praise because of his attributes v. 3 Warrior Lord v. 4 Yahweh’s Triumphs over Pharaoh’s forces v.5 Recasting of the sinking of Pharaoh’s forces. This section has the various words about water; sea, Red sea, floods, depths. v.6 Refrain about the powerful hand of Yahweh and its destruction of the enemy. vv.7-8 Overthrow of the adversaries, fury of Yahweh and the “easy” consumption of the enemy. – “Like stubble” Yahweh’s sovereignty over the sea as his tool of destruction. Again, the use of waters, floods, deeps, but this time demonstrating Yahweh’s control over them rather than just the place where Pharaoh and his chariots went. v.9 Enemy taunt, dramatic irony v.10 God’s sovereignty over the sea “your wind blew and the sea covered them” and the enemy “sank” in the waters. v.11 REFRAIN ABOUT THE INCOMPARABILITY OF YAHWEH. Mention of the wondrous deeds of Yahweh. vv.12-13 Mention of the covenantal relationship with God – “steadfast love” “redeemed” First reference of the “abode” of Yahweh. this one is probably the tabernacle. Turn of events from the exodus specifically, to the wilderness wanderings v. 14 The inhabitants of the land coming land are frightened by Yahweh because they have heard of him. This strophe brings together the ideas of Yahweh leading his people through the entirety of their history. This is the move to the wilderness and entrance into the promised land. v. 15 Inhabitants of the land melting away in fear again. v. 16a Another simile to show the fear of the upcoming enemy “still
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Refrain 3 Closing Stanza (inclusio)
3:3 or 2:2/2:2 (?) 2:2 2:2/2:2
2:2
as a stone” and “terror and dread” It is interesting that this move does not discuss the defeat of the enemy, because it has not happened yet, but it does mention the fear of the enemy because of what they have heard. v. 16b Refrain with covenantal language “your people” “purchased” v. 17 Reference to the eschatological dwelling of Yahweh on his mountain, the place of his abode. His sanctuary. Bring Israel in. Plant them. v. 18 The eternal reign of Yahweh adding to the idea of eschatological pictures. This last stanza pushes Israel’s history into the future. Yahweh is still the King and Sovereign, covenantal Protector in this period.
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Table A3: James Muilenburg’s Structure of Exodus 15:1-18 with Metrical Analysis Section Title Hymnic Introit Stanza 1, Strophe 1 Hymnic Confession Stanza 1, Strophe 2 Epic Narrative
Meter 2:2/2:2 2:2/2:2/2:2
Refrain 1 Hymnic Response
2:2
Parallelism
ab/cd (Sea) a'b'/c'd' (Red Sea) d"c"/c"d"e (floods / depth) ab/cd (awesome in power) ab/ef (shatters the enemy)
2:2 2:2 2:3
2:2 Stanza 2, Strophe 1 Hymnic Confession Stanza 2, Strophe 2 Epic Narrative Refrain 2 Hymnic Response Stanza 3, Strophe 1 Hymnic Confession
Stanza 3, Strophe 2 Epic Narrative
Refrain 3 Hymnic Response Hymnic Celebration of Yahweh’s occupation of the land and his enthronement in the sanctuary. Coda
Verse v. 1b vv. 2-3 vv. 4-5
v. 6
2:2/2:2/2:2/3:3
vv. 7-8
2:2/2:2/2:2/2:2/2:2
vv. 9-10
2:2/2:2/2:2
v. 11 a b /c d a' b' / e f a" b" / g h abc/def ab b'a' a"b'
2:2 2:2 2:2 3:3 2:2 2:2 2:2 2:2/2:2 3:3
abc:abd
vv. 12-14
v. 15
v.16ab v. 16cd v. 17
v. 18
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Table A4: Poetic Devices in Exodus 15:1-18 Hebrew Text
כּ ִֽי־ג ָֹ֣אה גּ ָ֔אָה עָזִּ֤י וְזמְ ָרת אָבי אֵלי וְאַנְ ֔ ֵוהוּ אֱֹלהֵ ֵ֥י ִ֖ וַאֲ רמְ מִֽנְהוּ נז ְלִ֑ים ,נצְּבֵ֥ וּ ,נֹ֣ע ְרמוּ ֲ ,אח ֵַלֹּ֣ק ,א ְר ֵ֥דּף ,אֹו ֵי ֵ֛ב ,אָמַ ֵ֥ר ,אַשּׂיג ֹ֣ אָריק ִ֖ תְּ באֵֵ֗ מֹו וְת ָטּ ֵעמֹו כּ ִֽי־ג ָֹ֣אה גּ ָ֔אָה י־לי ,עָזִּ֤י אָבי ,אֵלי ,וַ ִֽי ְה ִ֖ ִ֖ תְּ באֵֵ֗ מֹו וְת ָטּ ֵעמֹו ֵ֥סוּס וְרכ ְִ֖בֹו ְהוִ֖ה י ְמִֽינְךֵ֥ י ָ בּג ְֵ֥דל זְרֹועֲךִ֖ עָזִּ֤י וְזמְ ָרת ַמ ְרכּ ְֵ֥בת פּ ְַר ֵ֛עה ְוחֵילִ֖ ֹו )(for extensive care נָחֵ֥יתָ ְב ַחסְדְּ ךִ֖ נֵהַ ֵ֥ לְתָּ ְב ָעזְּך אֵ ימָ תָ ה ָו ַ֔פחַד מרכּ ְֵ֥בת פּ ְַר ֵ֛עה ְוחֵילִ֖ ֹו ְ ְהוִ֖ה ְהוִ֖ה ,י ָ י ָ שׁמִֽוּ ְהוִ֖ה ְ ְהוִ֖ה ֹ֣אישׁ מ ְלח ָ ִָ֑מה י ָ י ָ ,תְּ ה ִ֖מת ְ ,בי ַם־סִֽוּף ַ ,ב ָיִּ֑ם בְּלב־ ָי ִֽם ,תְ ה ִ֖מת ,נזְלִ֑ים ַ֔ ,מים ,ב ְמצֹוֹלִ֖ ת ,חיל ,י ְרגָּזִ֑ וּן נ ָֹ֕מגוּ ִ֑ ָ ,ר ַעד ,נ ְבהֲלוּ ֹ֣ אֵ ימָ תָ ה ָ ,ו ַ֔פחַד
Poetic Device
Verse
v. 1b v. 2 v. 2 v. 8 v. 9
Alliteration
v. 17 v. 1b v. 2 v. 17 v. 1b v. 6 v. 16 v. 2 v. 4 v. 13
Assonance
Synecdoche Hendiadys
v. 16 v. 4 vv. 3 and 18 vv. 3a and 3b )vv. 4-5, 8 (waters imagery
Merismus Inclusio Climactic Parallelism Word Variations
vv. 14-16
כְּמֹו־אִָֽבן כַּקַּ ִֽשׁ ְמֹו־נִ֖ד כ ֵ ִֽעֹופרת כַּ ֔ כּ ִָ֑אָבן
v. 5 v. 7 v. 8 v. 10 v. 16 v. 6 v. 11 v. 12 v. 16
י ְמִֽינְךֹ֣ י ְה ֔ ָוה )(2x מִֽי־כ ִָ֤מכָה )(2x (in conjunction with v. י ְֹ֣מינ ְ֔ך )6 עַ ִֽד־יַע ֲִ֖בר )(2x י ְמִֽינְךֹ֣ י ְה ֔ ָוה נ ְאדָּ ִ֖רי ַבּ ִ֑כּ ַח ְהוִ֖ה תּ ְרעַ ֵ֥ץ אֹו ֵי ִֽב י ְמִֽינְךֵ֥ י ָ מִֽי־כ ִָ֤מכָה בָּ ִֽאֵלם י ְה ֔ ָוה מֵ֥י כּ ִָ֖מכָה נ ְא ָ ֹ֣דּר בּ ִַ֑קּדשׁ... נָחֵ֥יתָ ְב ַחסְדְּ ךִ֖ עַם־ ֹ֣זוּ ָגּ ִ֑אָלְתָּ ;D נֵהַ ֵ֥ לְתָּ ְב ָעזּ ְךִ֖ אל־נְוֵ ֵ֥ה ָקדְ שִֽׁך עַד־יַע ֲִ֤בר ַעמְּך י ְה ֔ ָוה עַ ִֽד־יַע ֲִ֖בר עַם־זֵ֥ וּ קָנ ִֽיתָ
v. 6
Simile
Repetition
Staircase Parallelism
v. 11
תּ ְרעַ ֵ֥ץ אֹו ֵי ִֽב
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v. 13
)Staircase Parallelism (cont.
v. 16ef v. 6
Hyperbole
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Metonymy Rhyme
v. 7 v. 7 v. 13
Allusion Onomatopoeia Rhetorical Questions
v. 7 (as a reference to another culture or body of literature) v. 8 v. 11
Dramatic Irony
v. 9
Pathetic Fallacy Personification Metaphor Stitching (see Patterson, 4.viii)
v. 12 v. 12 v. 15 throughout vv. 1, 4, 5, 8, 10 vv. 6, 12, 16a, 17 vv. 11, 13, 17 vv. 13, 16
יאכ ְֵלִ֖מֹו כַּקַּ ִֽשׁ ח ֲֹ֣רנ ְ֔ך ִ֖גְּאֹונְך, קָ ִ֑מיך, ח ֲֹ֣רנ ְ֔ך ְְדּ ס ח ַ ב ְ , D ָ נָחֵ֥ית, ִ֖ ְב ָעזּ ְך, ִ֖ך ָנֵהַ ֵ֥ לְתָּ גּ ִָ֑אָלְתּ, קָ דְ שִֽׁך וּב ְֵ֥רב גְּאֹונְךִ֖ תַּ ה ֲֹ֣רס ָק ִ֑מיך שׁלַּח ח ֲֹ֣רנ ְ֔ך יאכ ְֵלִ֖מֹו ַכּקַּ ִֽשׁ׃ ַ ְתּ וּב ְִ֤רוּ ַח מִֽי־כ ִָ֤מכָה בָּ ִֽאֵלם י ְה ָ֔וה מֵ֥י כּ ִָ֖מכָה נֹורא תְ ה ִ֖לּת ֵ֥עשֵׂה פִֽלא׃ ֵ֥ ָ נאְ ָ ֹ֣דּר בּ ִַ֑קּדשׁ אַשּׂיג ֲאח ֵַלֹּ֣ק שׁ ָָלִ֑ל ִ֖ א ְר ֵ֥דּף ישׁמֹו ֹ֣ תּ ְמל ֵ ָֹ֣אמֹו נַפ ְ֔שׁי ִ֖ ֵ אָריק ח ְַר ֔בּי תֹּור י ָדִֽי׃ תּ ְבל ֵ ִָ֖עמֹו אִָֽרץ תּ ְבל ֵ ִָ֖עמֹו אִָֽרץ שׁבֵ ֵ֥י כְנָ ִֽעַן ְ נ ָֹ֕מגוּ ִ֖כּל י ְהוִ֖ה ָ י (“waters”ַimagery)ַַב ָיִּ֑ם ֹ֣י ְמִֽינְך (“holiness”ַimagery)ַ בּ ִַ֑קּדשׁ (attention given to Yahweh’sַpeople)ַעַם־ ֹ֣זוּ,
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Book Reviews
Editor: Joshua Stewart
Book Reviews Joshua Stewart, Book Review Editor Welcome to the book review section of The Luther Rice Journal of Christian Studies. I am pleased to be able to share five book reviews in this inaugural issue. In the future, the editorial board would love to see this section of the journal grow in its offerings. In order for this to come to fruition, I would like to invite readers to contact me about the possibility of reviewing books for the journal. At this point in time, I am working toward growing the list of publishers willing to provide review copies of new releases. I am also working toward building a database of prospective reviewers. If you see a recent release or upcoming release that you would like to review, please contact me. In either case, please include in your email a curriculum vitae and a list of your areas of interest. At this time, we are only considering potential reviewers in a graduate program or higher.
Shalom lekha, Joshua E. Stewart, PhD Book Review Editor bookreviews@LutherRice.edu

Joshua Stewart is Assistant Professor of Old Testament and Hebrew at Luther Rice College & Seminary.
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Ronald E. Osborn. Death Before the Fall: Biblical Literalism and the Problem of Animal Suffering. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2014. Pp. 191. ISBN 978-0830840465. $25.00 paperback. In this intriguing and accessible monograph, Ronald Osborn asks why God would punish animals with death and suffering to punish sinful humans (14–16). Osborn, who holds a Ph.D. in Politics and International Relations from the University of Southern California, is currently a 2014–2016 Mellon Postdoctoral Fellow in the Peace and Justice Studies Program at Wellesley College in Wellesley, Massachusetts. After a foreword by John Walton and a brief introduction, Osborn structures his work into two parts. Part 1, which comprises two-thirds of the book, summarizes his position and critiques a theological reading of the biblical creation account which Osborn calls “literalism.” He defines literalism as “any approach to the Bible that treats the creation story in Genesis 1 as a chronological-historical account that should be used to coordinate and explain scientific and historical data—the enterprise of ‘creation science’ or ‘scientific’ creationism” (40). Osborn argues for an interpretation of Scripture in which God created both ex nihilo and by recruiting and involving material which He created, which Osborn calls theistic evolution, or process creation (25–38). Osborn asks several provocative questions concerning the biblical text. First, he asks whether God’s statement in Gen 1:31 that creation was “very good” requires one to rule out the possibility that mortality and predation already existed (29–33). Second, Osborn asks whether the Old Testament text explicitly states that mortality and predation resulted from humanity’s rebellion, or if that view is imposed on the biblical text by some readers (34). Third, Osborn asks how Adam would have understood God’s warning of death for eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil if Adam had not already witnessed death in God’s creation (36). Fourth, can literal readings of the accounts in Genesis 1 and Genesis 2 be reconciled chronologically (52–54)? These and other questions will challenge readers who approach the Bible with a heremeneutic of literalism. Osborn correctly explains that all readers interpret Scripture through philosophicaltheological commitments (41). Also, he wisely adopts an epistemology of critical realism, which affirms the objective world but is subject to revision (118–19). And Osborn rightly warns against the dangers of fundamentalism, including the seeming inability both to reflect critically on their interpretation of Scripture and the inability to separate their interpretation of Scripture from Scripture itself (79–81). However, one wonders if Osborn’s own philosophical-theological commitments keep him from providing an even-handed evaluation of biblical literalists known as creation scientists. As examples, Osborn argues in one chapter that creation science bears the signs of “degenerating research” (59–67). In another chapter, he argues that creation science “can quickly come to exhibit all the marks of a very ancient heresy,” Gnosticism (86–95). In chapter 5, Osborn presents an example of 91
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creation science at its worst when he cites an odd, unsatisfying explanation of Joshua 10, when the sun stood still (69–70). This seems to be an instance of citing an opponent’s weakest argument, rather than interacting with his best argument. Additionally, Osborn inserts repeated, unnecessary remarks that link biblical literalists with close-minded fundamentalists. For example, he closes one such paragraph with this parenthetical remark: “A fundamentalist can never be too careful what she reads or whom she befriends!” (73). The statement on its own is true; but isn’t it the case that fundamentalists can be found among many worldviews, including theistic evolutionists? While critiquing biblical literalism, he expresses love for and appreciation of biblical literalists (97–98, 178–79), which is a helpful distinction. Part 2 is titled “Animal Suffering.” Chapter 10 suggests three problems for the view that all death and suffering is attributed to Adam's rebellion (which is a view the author attributes to biblical literalists). Osborn calls these the dilemmas of stasis, deceiver God, and divine curse. First, in the literalist view, creation would originally have been designed for birth only, not death; but without any death, births must eventually end or the global population of animals and people would become unmanageable. Second, Osborn calls it “deception or sleight of hand” that God would create a fully formed creation in one day which appears to be much older (133). Third, how can animal death be a result of the fall if some animals are predatory by design? Also, if Adam and Eve were not cursed as a result of their rebellion, then why would God curse animals for human rebellion? (138). On the second point, one wonders whether the author would deny that Jesus performed miracles or else charge Him with deception for creating wine which had not fermented, bread which had not risen in an oven, and fish which had not hatched from eggs (John 2:1–12; 6:1–15). Wouldn’t God be guilty of deception only if He declared the universe to be old and it was in fact young? But God has made no such declaration; the age of the universe is an inference from scientific data. In chapter 11, Osborn argues against the speculation of C. S. Lewis that animal theodicy is a non-issue because they are sentient creatures but they are not conscious creatures (140). Interestingly, Osborn makes his case for the similarities between animal suffering and human suffering from Darwinian theory (141–43). In chapter 12, Osborn continues to build a case that predatory behaviors in the animal world can be viewed as consistent with God's original design rather than as a result of a curse placed upon creation due to human rebellion. As evidence, Osborn cites God's reply to Job, in which God takes responsibility for His creation—including the wild and ferocious creatures such as the lion, the Behemoth, and Leviathan. In His reply to Job, “the Creator takes full responsibility for animal predation, and there is no hint that it is anything other than very good” (154, emphasis his).
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In chapter 13, “Creation & Kenosis,” Osborn identifies the significance of human free will when considering theodicy and affirms God entering human suffering through the cross of Christ (161–64). The author warns readers that “the Reformed tradition” will reject his insistence upon genuine human free will. However, Osborn's arguments belie more than an affirmation of human free will. Osborn seems to lean toward open theism, a view that many non-Reformed Christians consider outside the bounds of historic, Christian belief. The author’s disposition toward open theism can be detected in his appeals to openness theologians such as A. N. Whitehead, Greg Boyd, John Polkinghorne, Terence Fretheim, and Abraham Heschel, as well as his affirmations of claims consistent with distinctives of that view. For example, Osborn cites approvingly the explanation by John Haught that “the God of evolution” invites “creation to experiment with many possible ways of being, allowing it to make 'mistakes' in the process” (162). Consider, also, that Osborn's preferred term for his view of theistic evolution is “process creation” (37). Chapter 14 is an interesting reflection from a self-identified Seventh-Day Adventist on Sabbath keeping. Instead of calling for corporate worship on Saturday rather than Sunday, the essay highlights the origin of the Sabbath in the creation account as well as its value for the present. Osborn notes that biblical instruction concerning the Sabbath extended to land and to animals (Exodus 23), and that Christ’s ministry fulfilled Judaism, including the Sabbath. Thus Christians should pursue an ethical creationism rather than a scientific creationism. Osborn explores the implications for most Christians neglecting the Sabbath. Subtly but provocatively, he asks whether Sabbath-observing Christians in the previous century would have allowed anti-Semitism to culminate in the Jewish Holocaust. Also, he notes the present “ecological holocaust” (172), and wonders whether God will one day commend as a faithful creationist naturalists such as Jane Goodall who diligently protected animal life (174), rather than biblical literalists who failed to properly steward God’s creation. Osborn’s book raises incisive questions for young earth creationists and biblical literalists—even if its descriptions of those views are sometimes pejorative—concerning the interpretation of Genesis 1–3 and the age of the universe. Most important, the work raises a subject that is rarely discussed but is theologically significant for Christians, the time of the first appearance of and reasons for animal suffering and death. Anyone who is interested in considering the subject of animal theodicy, regardless of any differences with the author on related theological and scientific matters, will benefit from Osborn’s work. Adam Harwood New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary
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John H. Walton. The Lost World of Adam and Eve: Genesis 2-3 and the Human Origins Debate. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2015. Pp. 255. ISBN 978-0-8308-2461-8. $17.00 paperback. A key issue in the debate concerning the Bible and modern science rests on whether or not the two are compatible. Can the Christian uphold the authority of the Bible while simultaneously affirming evolutionary conclusions of modern science? John H. Walton — professor of Old Testament at Wheaton College and Graduate School — seeks to demonstrate in The Lost World of Adam and Eve that fidelity to the authority of the Bible does not prevent an evolutionary-informed understanding of the question of human origins. Walton organizes his book into twenty-one propositions/chapters. Each proposition builds upon previous propositions, leading to his conclusion that the Bible does not prohibit claims by geneticists that a “material continuity” exists between humans and other species: humans evolved from other species (192). To support his conclusion, Walton maintains that Genesis 1 and 2 do not explicitly teach “material” creation: creation ex nihilo (33). He also contends that Genesis 3 is not a retelling of how the Fall happened; rather, the account is ‘imagistic,’ presenting the reality of the Fall in a certain way to bring out theological truths (136-39). To determine the message of Genesis 1-2, Walton concentrates on certain Hebrew words in the creation account to establish if they communicate material creation, words like bārā (to create) and ‛āśâ (to make) (29-33). Based on his word studies and on creation accounts from ancient Near East literature, Walton contends that Genesis 1-2 is an account of God ordering and assigning functions to creation (propositions 3-5) rather than an account of God creating ex nihilo. Walton is not denying that God created everything; instead, Genesis 1-2 relates the account of God’s ordering creation (33). Genesis 1-2 shows God ordering His creation like a family puts their new house in order. (33). Genesis 1-2, therefore, is the account of God setting up and ordering ‘sacred space’: “God has ordered the cosmos with the purpose of taking up his residence in it and ruling over it” (49). With his understanding of Genesis 1-2, then, Walton maintains that — in light of other creation accounts in the ancient Near East — the account of Adam and Eve is not ‘a history of human material origin’ (200); rather, the account is ‘archetypal.’ According to Walton, an ‘archetype’ “embodies all others in the group” (74): “all humanity” is “represented in” Adam (108). Adam and Eve are not significant because they were the first human beings; rather, Adam and Eve are significant because out of all the humans that already existed at that time, God chose them to function as priests in His sacred space (108, 115). Adam and Eve were to bring life to humanity as they worked with God to bring order out of non-order in the world (“subdue” and “rule,” Gen 1:28); however, with their sin they disrupted mankind’s access to God and brought disorder to the world (145, 147).
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Furthermore, Genesis 3 is primarily concerned with the origin of sin, not the origins of humans (203). To bolster his claim that Adam and Eve were archetypes, not the first humans, Walton contends in proposition 9 that other forming accounts in the ancient Near East are archetypal, so Israel would be familiar with this type of literature. Moreover, the New Testament focuses on Adam and Eve as archetypes rather than the first humans (proposition 10). Walton emphasizes that he is not denying that Adam and Eve were historical, but rather that they function in the Bible as archetypes: “the question of the historical Adam has more to do with sin’s origins than with human origins” (103). Walton concludes Genesis 2-3 does not “make scientific claims” about human origin (181). Walton continues, “that does not mean that modern scientific theories are therefore correct by default — it just means that we can consider scientific claims on their own merit rather than dismissing them because they contradict biblical claims” (180). According to Walton, a careful reading of Genesis is not necessarily incompatible with the theory of common descent (humans evolving from other species) (206). Walton explains that accepting the principle of common descent does not necessitate accepting the theory of evolution as described today; however, it does “clear the way” for a theory of evolution that is “compatible with the Bible” (206-07). Walton’s book is well written and clear. Walton anticipates many objections to his arguments, and seeks to answer them thoroughly. However, in addition to his view of evolution, there is much in his book that is troubling. Only three issues will be briefly mentioned. First, his words studies are not convincing and do not suffice to challenge to the traditional view of creation. For example, Walton argues that the word ṭôb “good” (Gen 1:4, 12, etc.) does not mean all was perfect and pristine before the Fall, but that all was functioning as it should (57). According to Walton, there was no sin (disorder), but there was non-order (death, suffering, earthquakes) in the beginning. Second, his view of sin and the effect of the Fall on creation does not accurately reflect the teachings of the Bible, particularly Romans 5:12-13 and 8:20-22. Walton describes death, suffering, earthquakes, etc. as non-order with evil consequences (versus disorder, which is sin) and suggests that they existed pre-Fall (136). He writes, “we cannot think of death and suffering as having been foisted on us” by Adam and Eve (144). Third, Walton minimizes the role of Satan in the Fall. Walton contends that the snake in Genesis 3 is simply a ‘chaos creature’: an amoral creature found in ancient literature that “can be mischievous or destructive” (133). According to Walton, the Israelites would not have identified the snake in Genesis 3 as Satan. Moreover, “the serpent is the catalyst more than the cause” of the Fall (133). Views such as Walton’s will become more prevalent in the church; the minister would do well to be informed and have an answer ready. Richard C. McDonald Southern Baptist Theological Seminary
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Michael Reeves. Rejoicing In Christ. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2015. Pp. 135. ISBN 978-0-8308-4022-9. $12.88 paperback. “If theology were a maze, every corner and every turn would lead to Jesus. If anything does not, it is not worthy of the name ‘Christian Theology,’” writes Michael Bird (2013). His point can hardly be disputed: the very heart of the Christian faith is and will always be the Christ. Looking at the Christian bestsellers lists, then, can be a jarring experience, as it becomes apparent that the Prince of Peace often plays only a supporting role in much of contemporary Christian literature, where it is man, rather than the Son of Man, who gets top billing. Rather than look to Christ, many turn instead to seven-step psychological formulas or white-knuckle, grit-your-teeth moralism. We too often gaze inward and down, rather than outward and up. Now comes Michael Reeves and his new book Rejoicing in Christ: an accessible and winsome work ready to set right this imbalance. For Reeves, “the jewel in the crown of Christianity is not an idea, a system or a thing; it is not even “the gospel” as such. It is Jesus Christ” (10). Reeves endeavors to display Christ as the glorious main character; the one true ‘star’ of the universe. Rejoicing in Christ is a book focused on the supremacy of Jesus for the life of every Christian—who he is, what he did, what he is doing, and what he will do. It aims to engage the mind but mainly the heart. To quote Reeves, this book “aims for something deeper than a new technique or a call to action: to consider Christ, that he might become more central for you, that you might know him better, treasure him more and enter into his joy” (11). A great distance is covered in a small space: coming in at just 135 pages, Christ’s eternity, incarnation, passion, resurrection, and return are all considered. The main thrust of the book is that knowing and beholding Jesus should be the primary aim of all believers. “The very sight of [Christ],” Reeves’ writes, “is a transforming thing” (102). Jesus is more than “a mere topic, a subject we can pick out from a menu” (10). He is the all-in-all: sufficient for a life of godliness, faith, and unimpeachable joy. God, through Christ, “graciously gives us himself and his own life” (50)—Jesus is the very self-giving of the God; his ultimate self-expression. No matter what “stage” the believer stops to gaze at the Son, he is paraded with unparalleled majesty, whether it be Christ’s eternal felicity within the Trinity as the “treasure of the Father” (21) or his incarnation as the “Creator [who] became a creature, the Word who became speechless” (33). He is the vanguard of a new humanity, and the root and end of all personal holiness. Through our union with him, “we come to share the life he enjoys before the Father” (89). Perhaps the best word that one could use to describe Reeves’s new work is that it is doxological; that is, rather than taking an academic or systematic approach, Reeves adopts a more poetic, personal, and praise-laden tone. He is an able writer and crafts his
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prose to reflect his subject’s grandeur. For example, he writes, “There on the throne is death-crushing compassion and royal liberation: our friend, our priest, our king. The more we look, the more our hearts belong there, the more we want him known—and the more we long for his return” (82). He writes with warmth and intimacy, rather than technical jargon or a titanic vocabulary. For instance, he writes with characteristic candor, “Jesus went to heaven: it sounds glorious, but also rather sad. For we don’t want him to go away; we want to be with him!” (83). Reeves takes many complex Christological doctrines and distills them into easilyunderstandable concepts, such as with the kenosis theory (33), the Lord’s incarnation (46), Docetism (47), and federalism (67). For example, concerning the kenosis theory, he summarizes, “He did not empty himself of anything he was: he emptied himself, humbling himself to be God with us in the form of a baby” (33). Reeves takes great pains to ensure that his main point is made perfectly clear: that the life of the believer is with, through, and for Christ. Christ is not a means to some greater end. “It could not be about forgiveness first or justification first, for what is the point of being forgiven and justified…We are forgiven in order to know and enjoy Christ” (121). For Reeves, loving Christ is the aim and sum of all theology. However, a minor criticism of the book is that the “everyman” language Reeves employs so accommodatingly can also be distracting at times. For example, he uses the term “McTheology” (66) and refers to Gregory of Nazianzus as a “theologian, tenth degree black belt” (47). The rhythm of the book, given Reeves’s style and pace, can be difficult to adjust to starting out. Also, there are some interpretations proffered in the book that are mildly questionable, such as his interpretation of 1 Cor 15:4 as a fulfillment of Genesis 1:11 (41) and allegorical approach (that he adopts from John Calvin and Matthew Henry) to Genesis 2:21–22 (37). That said, the faithful orthodox are unlikely to find anything in Rejoicing in Christ very upsetting; in fact, they are likely to enjoy and benefit from Reeves’s book a great deal. Read in tandem with Reeves’ prior work—Delighting in the Trinity (IVP Academic, 2012)—Rejoicing in Christ makes a superb sequel and a fitting reflection on the truth, beauty, and goodness of Christ. It is one-part theology lesson, one-part devotional, but all parts helpful—it aims to draw hearts and minds to consider Jesus in the majesty of his person and the true life found only in him. Justin Matthews Reformed Theological Seminary
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Chadwick Thornhill, The Chosen People: Election, Paul, and Second Temple Judaism. Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 2015. Pp. 288. ISBN 9780830840830. $30.00 paperback. For those who have never been comfortable (theologically or biblically) with Calvinism’s doctrine of unconditional election (i.e. the concept that the salvation of certain individuals has been preplanned from the foundation of the world), Chad Thornhill’s new book is a God-send. This belief has been the dominant belief of a segment of Christian theology, mainly Reformed theology. In his book, Post Christendom, Stuart Murray claims that the principle of arbitrary predestination “that consigns most of humanity to eternal punishment” was an innovation by the church father Augustine (p. 76) and was inconsistent with earlier Christian tradition (pp. 100-101). Scott Bader-Saye argues in his book Church and Israel after Christendom that early Christian theology spiritualized and individualized the concept of election. He writes: “No longer a communal claim about the formation of a people in the world (i.e. Israel), election became information about individual salvation in the next world… Election was reduced to a belief about the destiny of the individual soul rather than a calling to participate in a particular communal vocation” (p. 55). He further noted: “Election had to be re-conceptualized in Christian theology in such a way that it was separable from Jewish flesh and thus could be applied to the Gentiles” (p. 54). In other words, the early church fathers divorced the concept of election from a national election (Israel after the flesh) to an individual election to eternal life, or just the opposite. With this background in mind, enter Liberty University professor A. Chadwick Thornhill’s new book, The Chosen People: Election, Paul, and Second Temple Judaism. As the concept of election was the bedrock of the Old Testament, it was also one of the central touchstones of Second Temple Judaism. Thornhill considers how Second Temple Judaism’s understanding of the concept of election influenced Paul’s theological understanding of election in the New Testament. Thornhill argues that Paul indeed adopted to a large extent the beliefs of Second Temple Judaism, and this would argue for a corporate concept of election rather than an individual concept of election as Calvinism teaches. In his most explicit election texts Paul never concerns himself with God choosing specific individuals to receive eschatological salvation (p. 256). Only a few Christian theologians have advocated the concept of a corporate view of election, specifically Robert Shank (Elect in the Son); William Klein (The New Chosen People) and R.B. Thieme (The Divine Outline of History). This book will be like a breath of fresh air to those who have adopted a more corporate view of election. Thornhill’s stated purpose in the book is to explore how Jewish authors from the literature of Second Temple Judaism (i.e. the Apocrypha, Dead Sea Scrolls, and 98
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pseudepigraphal literature, e.g. the Book of Enoch) viewed the concept of election and what influence these writings had on the Apostle Paul (p. 16). The author’s premise is that Paul also used the concept of election in the same sense as Jews in the Old Testament (corporate election) and the intertestamental period (corporate). Jews did not think in terms of individual predetermined election to heaven or predetermined reprobation. There are three basic views held among contemporary scholars regarding Israel’s election and elect status: 1) It was national and unconditional, 2) It was national and conditional (individuals had a role to play as to whether they were “in” or “out”), and 3) It was remnant oriented and conditional (p. 17). Regarding #1, this view rejected a works-based salvation by the Jews and saw the covenant as a covenant of grace. One is a part of the covenant by grace- one stays in the covenant by faith and obedience to it. Regarding #2, election was national and it was based on merit (based on the merit of the patriarchs and later Israel, “the Jews chose God”!). Regarding #3, election was remnant oriented and conditional- the elect are members of the remnant, the ones who are faithful to the covenant while many will not be. Election was associated closely as relevant only to a faithful remnant and not to the whole nation of Israel. There was both a conditional and unconditional element in the covenant. This is the view that Thornhill takes, and furthermore, he argues that it is the view the apostle Paul takes in the New Testament. From the bulk of Second Temple literature, Thornhill summarized the Jewish concepts of election: 1) Election emphasized the character of the individual. Many times the words “holy” and “elect” are parallel terms and collectively emphasize the righteous or the faithful 2) Election was for a particular function, e.g. the Messiah is the “elect” or David is the “elect” and 3) Corporate representation: texts from this period concentrated on the “collective” of the elect through corporate metaphors, rather than the individuals (p. 59). The “elect” are known by corporate metaphors such as the sheep, the vine, the flock etc. “To be elect… is more commonly not associated with a ‘soteriological’ status (Jews did not necessarily think in those categories) but rather with the quality of the individual (or sometimes group) in view” (p. 28). The “elect” were the righteous: a collective term or concept. Jewish thought represented more than God’s predetermined choice of individuals for heaven or hell, but rather involved his response to their obedience to the covenant or their character (pp. 33-34). Election language for the Second Temple period Jews focused on Israel as a nation, or its remnant as the chosen people (p. 70). Thornhill writes: “Election for Paul is corporate. It was in ethnic Israel and is now ‘in Christ.’ Paul carries over concepts of corporate election from early Judaism into his “theologizing” about the Christian assembly” (p. 90).
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Thornhill does address the main New Testament passages that are purported to teach unconditional election to salvation or reprobation and there are predominantly three passages that could be argued for such. He deals extensively with Romans 8-11, (the critical passages 8:29ff and 9, plus chapter 11). Thornhill also addresses another key passage, Ephesians 1-2. For those who want to further study these passages, Thornhill extensively interacts with a whole cadre of New Testament scholars in the footnotes, which are quite extensive, specifically Thomas Schreiner and N.T. Wright. Regarding New Testament election, Thornhill clarifies: “To state it bluntly, it seems to me difficult to make the case that Jews of the period held to any notion of our concept of individual election unto salvation” (p. 97). “Paul indicates to his readers that he views them as God’s people if they are defined by God’s Messiah. Paul does not abandon the collective framework, but rather redefines it around Jesus. Paul, like other Jewish writers of his day, understands ‘election’ to be about God’s people as a people” (p. 98, italics his). Election would not carry the concept that a few are arbitrarily chosen or predestined for salvation. Furthermore, election would be conditioned upon the faith of the individual. Taking a position contrary to traditional Calvinist belief, Thornhill confirms: “[I]n Romans 8:28 – 11:36, Paul has not argued that God has predetermined certain individuals to eternal life and others to eternal death” (p. 252). And, “I would argue, then, that in Ephesians 1Paul is not dealing with an abstract form of double predestination in which God has chosen some for redemption and others for condemnation” (p. 223). Thornhill does note the tension between divine sovereignty and human responsibility when he writes: “What we have explored raises some obvious questions about the nature of salvation and where the initiative and responsibility lies” (p. 186). But, he argues that God’s divine sovereignty does not rule out the human responsibility of the individual’s free will in either obeying God or accepting the terms of the covenant. “To be in the elect… is to be in right standing in the covenant” (p. 117). One can choose to obey, or one can choose to apostatize. This would rule out the concept of predetermined, unconditional salvation arranged before the foundation of the world. It is important to note that Thornhill argues that Second Temple Judaism did not regard all Jews as God’s people, only those who adhered to the terms of the covenant (pp. 147, 150). The author does not attack Calvinism nor even mention the word in the book. Thornhill does not address all the questions and ramifications of the electionpredestination debate, and it will certainly not be accepted by much of Reformed theology of which Calvinism is a bedrock, but it will certainly bring a much needed arsenal of more sophisticated weaponry to the battle. Tim Skinner Luther Rice College and Seminary
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John Goldingay. Do We Need the New Testament? Letting the Old Testament Speak for Itself. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2015. Pp. 183. $22.00 paperback. Preeminent Old Testament scholar, John Goldingay has written, yet again, a thought provoking and well-informed book on the First Testament. He has turned the old question—Do we need the Old Testament? —on its head by asking this of the New Testament. Now before the reader gets too nervous I should point out that he begins by saying, “Yes, of course, we need it.” But, he does leave open the questions of why and how we need it and further asks, “Why is the Old Testament not enough?” (7). His main concern in the book is to move beyond the so-called problems or discontinuity between the two Testaments’ visions of faith and life. Instead he wishes to focus on the continuity in the way the OT “story continues in the NT story, the teaching of the Prophets continues in the teaching of Jesus and the Epistles, and the promises of the Prophets continue in the promises in Revelation” (9). Goldingay fulfills his primary focus for the book in chapter one, and the following chapters flesh out the concepts presented in the first chapter. In chapter one he offers eight ways in which the NT relates to the OT. The first of these is salvation. The story of Jesus shows that God let humanity do its worst to him (crucifixion) and that he overcame (resurrection). “In a sense God did nothing new in Jesus. God was simply taking to its logical and ultimate extreme the activity in which he had been involved throughout the First Testament story. . . This last sacrifice was the logical and inevitable culmination of that earlier way of acting and letting himself be acted on, the final expression of it” (12). The second way is narrative. Here Goldingay expounds on how the NT is a continuation of the OT narrative, even if the OT can be read without the NT. In a sense the Christ event is not fully predicted on the basis of the OT story, but the events did not surprise Jesus because they fit the pattern of the OT story. The execution and resurrection of Jesus “is the continuation and culmination of Israel’s story, though we might not have seen that Israel’s story is a story of death and resurrection unless we were reading it in light of Jesus’ story” (15). The third way we need the NT relates to its understanding of mission. The NT shows, more fully, God’s concern for the whole world. The OT makes clear God’s concern for the whole world. In the NT the focus is more obvious and becomes the central task of the people of God. The fourth relationship between the Testaments is related to theology. In this section Goldingay takes up the issue of the character and nature of God. The idea that the OT lacks grace and truth is a false idea. The reality is that grace and truth permeate the First Testament (Exod. 34:6). “But neither Moses himself nor the Torah for which he stands was an embodiment of grace and truth in the 101
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sense that Jesus was, as the incarnation of God, as grace and truth on two legs walking around Galilee and Jerusalem” (21). The fifth issue raised is one in which we find a truth confined to the NT. The author identifies this as the resurrection hope. In the OT the termination of the story for humanity is the grave or Sheol (with the exception of Daniel 12). Only in the NT do we find something bigger after death, that is either rising to a new life or going to hell. Goldingay points out, “It’s not that the First Testament was wrong; it was right” (24). There is no resurrection life without the initiation of a new humanity via the death and resurrection of Jesus. The sixth matter is related to promise and fulfillment. The OT contains many promises that find fulfillment within its corpus, just as it contains promises left awaiting fulfillment. In a sense the NT contains the same thing: promises fulfilled and promises left waiting to be fulfilled. I read Goldingay as saying that the two Testaments work together to help us realize that we can trust that what God promises, he will bring about. The seventh matter relates to spirituality. The question here is, “Can we know how to relate to God, how to pray, or how spirituality works without the NT?” In his answer Goldingay points out how often the NT and Jesus depend on the OT as a means of showing people what proper worship and prayer look like. In part, like the OT, prayer and praise are closely tied with memory of God’s story in both Testaments. The final issue is that of ethics. The ethics of the OT is closely related to the people’s memory of servitude in Egypt. The reader is reminded of some of the more popular demands of the NT and the OT foundation for those demands. “Jesus does put radical demands before people, but so did Isaiah and so does Proverbs” (31). Chapters 2–8 develop aspects of the above eight points. Chapter 9 moves to what I see as an important part of the book. Goldingay makes a stabbing point that should be heard by Christians in our context. “[A] selective use of the New Testament makes it possible to formulate a version of biblical faith that is more congenial to Western Christians than one that reflects the Scriptures more broadly” (158). He also makes some rather interesting comments concerning how theological interpretation relates to proper exegesis and the problems with historical-critical exegesis. The brief sections on being theological but not Christocentric, being theological but not Trinitarian, and being theological but not constrained by the rule of faith should be read and meditated upon. The reader should be warned that heeding Goldingay’s conclusions may forever change the way one reads the OT. Readers may find that the OT Scriptures “confront us, widen our thinking, reframe our thinking, rescue us from our narrowness and deliver us from the way our thinking and lives are decisively shaped by our being modern or postmodern, Western or non-Western people” (176).
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In the conclusion, Goldingay finally states his thesis, “The chief significance of Jesus does not lie in any new revelation that he brought. It lies in who he was, what he did and what happened to him, and what he will do” (177). I would assume that many readers of this review may not buy into his thesis at first glance. I would encourage all Christians to read this relatively short book. The author’s writing style makes for an easy read for all. As an OT professor my heart resonates with Goldingay, in that, in my passionate enthusiasm for the First Testament I long for people to practice the idea that the NT does not supersede the earlier Scriptures. By reading this book one may be surprised by the OT and how the NT really does follow in magnificent ways, maybe even in ways you would never imagine. Joshua E. Stewart Luther Rice College and Seminary
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Submission Guidelines, Luther Rice Journal of Christian Studies Email manuscripts for consideration to journal@LutherRice.edu. Emails should include two attachments: 1) An information page 2) The manuscript The information page should be single-spaced. In it, please offer a brief abstract of the manuscript (250 words or less), a brief biography of your institutional affiliations and research interests, and a contact email. The biography should include your name. Introductory Information
Any manuscript submitted to LRJCS for consideration is expected to conform to the following requirements. A manuscript that fails to comply with these requirements may be returned to the author for corrections before it will be considered for publication. Authors are strongly encouraged to use the spellcheck /grammar check prior to submitting their manuscript. Manuscript submissions should include a statement indicating that the author is not currently seeking to publish the manuscript with another journal. Manuscripts that have already been published or will be published should not be submitted to LRJCS. For matters not addressed in these instructions, authors should follow the formatting guidelines of the 16th edition of The Chicago Manual of Style or the 8th edition of the Turabian A Manual for Writers of Research Papers, Theses, and Dissertations. If a manuscript has been accepted by LRJCS for publication, the author is required to make any and all required changes and return the corrected manuscript to LRJCS within a timely manner. Do not include your name within the manuscript. The LRJCS conducts blind peer reviews. General Guidelines for Manuscripts
Double space the entire text of the manuscript, with the exceptions of footnotes, block quotations, and subheadings (see below). Do not add additional line spacing before or after paragraphs. Cite using footnote/bibliography style (see chapters 16-17 of the Turabian manual or chapter 14 of the Chicago manual).
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Use one-inch margins all around (top, bottom, left, right). All foreign words, book and periodical titles, and transliterations should be italicized. Greek and Hebrew words must be typed using a unicode font (e.g., SBL Greek, SBL Hebrew). Format subheadings according to page 393 of the Turabian manual, or section 1.91 of the Chicago manual. First level subheadings should be centered, with the first letter of each word capitalized, and bolded. Second level subheadings should be centered, capitalized, but in normal type. Third level subheadings (if necessary) should be left-aligned, capitalized, and italicized. We prefer that authors use the first three major headings per Turabian. See the examples below: Jesus and the Great Commission (1st level) The Command to “Go” (2nd level) rd Implications for Ministry (3 level) Specific Guidelines
The title should appear in bold type at the beginning of the manuscript. Begin the text of the manuscript on the next line. Do not make an “Introduction” subheading. Make every effort to keep subheadings simple and straightforward. On average, manuscripts should contain no more than one subheading for every four pages of text. Before a subheading, insert a triple space, or two blank single-spaced lines. After a subheading, double space as usual. Single space footnotes internally, but insert a blank single-spaced line between footnotes. Single space block quotations internally, but insert a blank single-spaced line before and after the block quotation. Abbreviate books of the Bible according to pages 339-343 of the 8th-edition Turabian manual. Indent paragraphs by pressing the “Tab” key. Do not indent paragraphs with the “Space” bar. Position page numbers at the bottom middle of the page. Manuscript submissions should make use of the oxford comma (e.g., “Jack, Jill, and Harry”). Manuscripts should avoid idioms and contractions. 105
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Include a space between all initials (e.g., F. F. Bruce). Manuscripts should make appropriate use of hyphens, en dashes, and em dashes. The titles of books of the Bible should not be italicized. Manuscripts should make use of the supplied abbreviations (see below) when citing ancient texts. Quotations
All quotations should carefully reproduce the original, even if they differ from the requirements of this journal. Any mistakes within the quotation may be indicated through the use of [sic]. Commas and periods should be placed within quotation marks. Colons, semicolons, dashes, and parentheses should be placed outside quotation marks. Footnotes and Bibliographical References
All footnotes should be in 10pt font. Avoid placing several footnotes in a single sentence within the body of the manuscript. If a bibliographical reference occurs in a sentence within a footnote, the bibliographic reference should be placed within parentheses For example, “See J. Adewyua (“The Spiritual Powers of Ephesians 6:10–18 in the Light of African Pentecostal Spirituality,” BBR 22 [2012]: 254–256) for a recent summary of hermeneutical approaches to interpreting and appropriating Paul’s discussion of cosmic evil in Eph. 6:10–18.” The bibliographic information included inside parentheses within a footnote should be written in the following order: editor; translator; number of volumes; edition; series; city; publisher; date. Full bibliographic information should be provided when a work in first cited in the manuscript. Subsequent references should then use the author’s last name, an abbreviated form of the title, and then provide the appropriate page numbers (i.e., a short citation). Avoid the use of abbreviations, such as “p.” and “pp.” when citing page numbers. Avoid the use of “Publisher” in bibliographic references.
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The noun “Press” should only be included when citing works published by university presses (e.g., Cambridge University Press). Footnote Examples 1 B.
Witherington, Paul’s Narrative Thought World: The Tapestry and Tragedy of Triumph (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1994), 3–5. 2 J.
Barr, The Semantics of Biblical Language (London: Oxford University Press, 1961),
237–38. 3 P.
O’Brien, The Letter to the Ephesians (PNTC; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), 457,
490. 4 C.
Arnold, Ephesians, Power and Magic: The Concept of Power in Ephesians in the Light of its Historical Setting (SNTSMS 63; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 66–68. 5 D.
Reinhard, “Ephesians 6:10–18: A Call to Personal Piety or another Way of Describing Union with Christ,” JETS 48 (2005): 521–32. 6 M.
Kitchen, The ἀνακεφαλαίωσις of All Things in Christ: Theology and Purpose in the Epistle to the Ephesians (Ph.D. thesis, University of Manchester, 1988), 74, 76–77. Bibliography Examples Arnold, C. Ephesians, Power and Magic: The Concept of Power in Ephesians in the Light of its Historical Setting. Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series 63. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989. Barr, J. The Semantics of Biblical Language. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1961. Kitchen,ַM.ַ“Theַἀνακεφαλαίωσις of All Things in Christ: Theology and Purpose in the Epistle toַtheַEphesians.”ַPh.D.ַthesis,ַUniversityַofַManchester,ַ1988. O’Brien,ַP. The Letter to the Ephesians. Pillar New Testament Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999. Reinhard,ַD.ַ“Ephesians 6:10–18: A Call to Personal Piety or another Way of Describing Union withַChrist.”ַJournal of the Evangelical Theological Society 48 (2005): 521–32. Witherington, B. Paul’s Narrative Thought World: The Tapestry and Tragedy of Triumph. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1994. 107
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Submission Guidelines for Book Reviews Thank you for agreeing to review the enclosed book for LRJCS. Please note the following matters. The book review editor reserves the right to return a review for rewriting, to shorten it, or even to reject it if it departs substantially from these guidelines. Format Please use the following format for the heading of the review: Author. Title. Place of publication: Publisher, date of publication. Number of pages. ISBN. Retail price (cloth/paper). Please type your name as you wish it to appear at the review, along with the name of your institution or place of ministry or city and state. For references to formatting please follow the latest edition of the Turabian Manual. Generally, we ask our reviewers to stay within a word count of 800-1000 words per review. In rare cases, when reviewing key volumes or reference works, we may allow a higher word count. However, this should be discussed with the book review editor prior to final submission. If you must use Hebrew, Aramaic, or Greek we ask that you use a Unicode font. Policies Our goal is to publish reviews that are critical, creative, and courteous. In general, a review should include an exposition of the positions taken, the methodology employed, and a critical evaluation (positive or negative) of these. The work may be related to other literature in the field. Personal polemics should be avoided, and reviews should not be used to promote one’s favorite idea. Submission Please submit your document as a .doc or .docx file. Also submit a .pdf version of the file. These files should be submitted to the book review editor as an email attachment. Due Date The LRJCS will be published yearly, in January. It would be helpful if the reviewer could submit the review by the first of September.
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