theo #6 - May-June 2022

Michael Bull, Kennedy Barukh, Remy Wilkins

Michael Bull, Jared Leonard, Max Graham

Michael Bull ART 4 Attributed to Thomas Couture, Study of a Man Reading (C 1860) | 7 Edgar Maxence, Woman Reading Seen in Profile | 8 Johann Friedrich Overbeck, Leah and Rachel (1811-1828) |

William Dyce, The Meeting of Jacob and Rachel (1806-1864) | 30 Claude Monet, Meules (1890) | 34 Albert Joseph Moore, Elijah's Sacrifice (1863)

CONTACT editorial@theo-magazine.com

All material is copyright of its respective authors and cannot be reproduced in any form without written permission. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. All rights reserved.

“MAN IS NEVER TRULY MERCIFUL UNTIL HE HAS TASTED AND RECEIVED THE MERCY OF GOD.”

— GEOFFREY BINGHAM

BIBLE TOOLS

THE ART OF WHY

We have a God who hides things because He loves to be sought out, chewed out, and found out.

As Christians, we are rightly taught that we must not question God’s Word. The problem is that the Scriptures record many things that appear to have been given to us for the precise purpose of triggering questions. Even the provocative parables of Jesus are a breeze next to the arcane stipulations of the Torah. Those dark sayings were given to us as examples. They were not intended to be simple but they were intended to be understood.

We are to read the Bible faithfully, but our familiarity with the text often means that we fail to ask the right questions, the most important of which is simply “Why?”

This is not the “Why?” of unbelief or rebellion, which delights in the Word’s crude curiosities, brutish caprice and blatant contradictions because they can serve to justify its dismissal. It is the “Why?” which desires to know the mind of God, to get at the cause behind the effects. It is the “Why?” which

MICHAEL BULL

diligently searches the Scriptures for clues concerning the things that God has veiled from us. The same God has given us delicious glimpses through that veil of what lies beyond to whet our appetites for more. Our problem is that we have grown so accustomed to the Bible that we have forgotten how astonishingly eccentric it is.

It is sad that many faithful Christians are not interested in discovering why the Bible is so strange. They trust in linguistic technicians who most often study without an ounce of the childlike imagination the Bible requires to be understood, and teachers who no longer ask “Why is it so?” For them, it is simply so, and must be accepted without question. The oddities are merely tricks of the text, or a reflection of the times of the original audience rather than a reflection of who God is and how He communicates with His people.

God deals in images, sequences and patterns, so the riches of the wisdom of the Scriptures remain unperceived. The Bible is allowed to challenge us morally, intellectually, and even spiritually, but not visually, and definitely not “architecturally.” It has the answers to all of the deepest questions of the modern world, yet they remain unanswered, skipping like tiny pebbles across the face of our God’s wondrous

literary fathoms. Until Christians learn to open their minds like children once again, they will remain unteachable.

Of course, modern Christians do open their minds like children, but not to the Bible. This is why the best Bible teaching is always that which bridges the gap between popular culture and the ancient text. Like all the biblical prophets, our artists, musicians, novelists, and poets not only understand the connection

on exactly what is wrong. But the best authors all know how to identify the problems and put them right. That list of best authors would include some screenwriters, those who have to say everything the author of a novel says, but in less words.

Robert McKee writes:

between the everyday and the sublime, they also know how to obscure it just enough to make it tantalizing. To become truly wise, the saints must be taught that the skills they gain from well-written books, television, and cinema should not be shelved when reading the Bible. The Bible is indeed a good book.

The art of story

We all know when a book or a movie is missing something, even if we cannot put our finger

From inspiration to last draft you may need as much time to write a screenplay as to write a novel. Screen and prose writers create the same density of world, character, and story, but because screenplay pages have so much white on them, we’re often mislead into thinking that a screenplay is quicker and easier than a novel. But while scribomaniacs fill pages as fast as they can type, film writers cut and cut again, ruthless in their desire to express the absolute maximum in the fewest possible words. Pascal once wrote a long, drawn-out letter to a friend, then apologized in the postscript that he didn’t have time to write a short one. Like Pascal, screenwriters learn that economy is key, that brevity takes time, that excellence means perseverance.1

Aaron Sorkin, Academy and Emmy Award winning American screenwriter, producer, and playwright, says that what began his addiction to writing was watching a play and being fascinated by the “music” of the dialogue. Screenwriting teacher and “script doctor” John Truby says that plot is not something you make up as you go along,

We have forgotten how eccentric the Bible is.

and that all the best stories use the element of surprise.

In every case, the musical flow, the wonder and surprise are what get people hooked and keep them reading or watching. The Bible was completed two millennia ago, yet it still manages to surprise us. The surprises are not new. They appear as our eyes continue to adjust to the “light” of the text. However, because we are not taught the Bible’s internal logic, we either see things that are not there, or see nothing because we no longer expect to be surprised.

Seed and fruit

The Bible is much like a screenplay in the way it uses vivid images, clever plotting, and careful structure to resonate with us, but it also uses a method very familiar to screenwriters, and that is the technique of “plant and payoff.” At the heart of every narrative surprise (the good ones, anyway), there is a clue that leads to a later revelation. A plant without a payoff is not a plant, but a denouement without some prior hint, some dark saying serving as a foundation, is unsatisfying and cheap. The author is sovereign, but we will only revel in his authority if it demonstrates his beguiling wisdom.

“Plant and payoff” is the basis of typology, the earthy type and its glorious antitype, Adam and Eve,

Garden and City, so I would argue that this is an application of God’s own Covenantal pattern of “forming and filling.” The writer plants a single seed which seems utterly insignificant, if not irrelevant. It dies in the ground and is forgotten, but later produces a miraculous harvest.

The clues in the Bible are typically images and sequences of events, but sometimes they are technicalities that seem superfluous to the modern mind.

Even if its purpose is not immediately apparent, each strange word is a seed carefully planted for a payoff later on. The insignificant stone overlooked by the builders becomes the head of the corner.

Fertile minds

As in every good story, there are no trivialities in Scripture. Every jot and tittle must earn its keep, awaiting the time when its potential will be fulfilled (Matthew 5:18). We must eye with suspicion every petty detail because, like its Author, it is self-effacing, that is, it points to the glory of something else. In the Bible, there are dark sayings, but there are no idle words, and no red herrings. (That is the opinion of Satan who leads men not to glory but to oblivion.)

Some teachers claim that the only true types in the Bible are those that are explicitly explained. This is why they cannot make much sense of either the Bible or the world around them, since these are written in the same language, the language of image. They have no excuse because we in this age not only have the complete Word of God, putting us in possession of all the seeds and all the payoffs, we also have the Spirit of Christ who reveals the relationships between them. Every payoff is paid forward by God, invested in an even greater harvest. As we study, the Spirit fills the deliberate gaps between the lines, the isolated textual neurons begin to glow and hum with electric life, and the synapses in the written Word of God are bridged in the fleshy hearts of regenerate men. We become part of the story as it is written within us, seed and fruit. We ourselves become the conduits for the connections, fertile ground. Biblical theology is an extension of the glory of the Word.

Each strange word is a seed carefully planted.

Good storytelling makes excellence possible in just about any genre, and the best storytelling transforms the reader because it contains elements that must be chewed upon and digested. It engages and involves the reader through the use of mystery and symbol. Lewis and Tolkien understood that the best perspective on this world was from the vantage point of another one. All the visions of the Bible do this. They take place in the heavenly court, whose words and images are expounded in the subsequent events of history. What happens on the earth is glorious exposition of the compact types that issue from the mouth of God. Of course, this is still the case today. The power of the resurrection of Christ is paying a dividend in a billion stories that the world itself will not be able to contain. “Holy, Holy, Holy, is Jehovah of Hosts, The fullness of all the earth is His glory.”

(Isaiah 6:3, Young)

Asking why

If we are not asking “Why?” the Lord cut into Adam, “Why?” Moses’ hand became leprous, “Why?” David heard angels in the tops of the trees, or “Why?” the ax head floated in the Jordan,

we are not sitting like children at our Father’s feet. Instead of desiring to see the logic behind His idiosyncrasies, which are sometimes delightful but most often bizarre, we act like staff members too afraid to question our eccentric boss, yet willing enough to question his character. We look for wisdom elsewhere, as did Adam, and wind up listening to the slanderers of God. We must be bold enough to question God, as was Job, who stood against the accusers and discovered through faithful

perseverance that the answers were all around him, hidden in plain sight.

Biblical theology is the art of “Why?” By faith it understands that we have a God who hides things because He loves to be sought out, chewed out, and found out by those who love Him. He never opens our eyes without also opening our hearts (John 16:25-33).

1Robert McKee, Story: Substance, Structure, Style and the Principles of Screenwriting, 5.

“Stories are equipment for living.”

— Kenneth Burke

BIBLE TOOLS

JACOB’S WIVES

IS GOD OK WITH POLYGAMY?

Although the Bible doesn’t promote polygamy, God often seems to simply overlook it. So how do we answer modern proponents of the practice?

Arguing for Christian morality in a secular society is difficult.

Firstly, a culture that believes everything is the result of chance has no place—or desire—for fixed or absolute standards of right and wrong.

MICHAEL BULL

If, as many believe, mankind is merely the result of a series of biological accidents, then morality was not given by God but developed by Man, and Man himself is the final authority on what is right and what is wrong.

This means that any moral rules can be discarded by human rulers if they are not considered to be of any further value to society, or to the survival of humanity, or even if they are not of any short-term advantage to the rulers themselves.

Secondly, although the Scriptures do give us many hard and fast principles, even the Bible itself does not give us a list of “timeless” rules. The Law of Moses became the basis for the Common Law that empowered Western culture, but this was in general, not absolute, terms.

The problem for Christians who cherry-pick laws from Moses to call for biblical standards of morality today, while they ignore many others that are considered to be obsolete, is that although these laws were classified as either temporary or permanent, they are not separated in the Bible. Peter Leithart writes, …the common ordering of the Mosaic law into “moral, civil, ceremonial,” while valid in a broad sense, does not give much assistance in dealing with specific passages. In the law, moral, civil, and ceremonial features are all mixed up together.1

However, all the commandments of God are rooted in a single history, one that grows like a tree, and that factor—growth—is the key to understanding them.

Just as the rules for children are

not the same as the laws for adults, the changes in the laws of God were milestones in the gradual growth in understanding and maturity of God’s people.

Childhood rules prepare us for greater freedoms, but also for more grave responsibilities. This is why the Levitical Law can be the basis for our modern laws without actually dictating them. And, as with the rules that governed us as children, meditating upon them still

God’s laws are always given as a means of progress towards “judicial maturity,” that is, learning to judge between good and evil. To understand how the commandments of God apply to us today, we must consider the Bible’s sacred history as a process.

The wisdom that results from such understanding not only puts the critics of the Bible in their place, but also enables us to proclaim with confidence and authority what the Lord actually expects from us today.

So then, the law was our guardian until Christ came, in order that we might be justified by faith. But now that faith has come, we are no longer under a guardian, for in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God, through faith. (Galatians 3:24-26)

instructs us in God’s ways, which in turn informs us as we make “grown-up” decisions and laws.

For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food, for everyone who lives on milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is a child. But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil. (Hebrews 5:12-14)

With this understanding of the Law as part of “growing up,” how can we answer modern promoters of polygamy? The practice is not condemned by the Scriptures used to make the case against other perversions of human sexuality, so this is not a simple task.

When the practice is mentioned in narrative sections, the fact that polygamy is not described as a sin does not mean that God was happy with it. The authors often mention the sins of individuals without making a judgment upon them. They leave it for the reader to judge, based on earlier texts.

God’s laws were given as a means of progress towards maturity.

This is because their intention was that the hearer might grow in wisdom and discernment. The practice of polygamy was clearly part of the culture of the patriarchs and many righteous men in later history, and it, too, must be judged in its legal—and covenantal—context. But what does that actually mean?

Genesis is a book about the promise of fruit. Not only did the first law pertain to a particular fruit, but both Man and fruit— working from the inside out— have seed, flesh, and skin. Adam’s theft from the Tree of Knowledge was an attempt to steal the fertility that God had promised to Him as a gift—the fruit of the land, and the fruit of the womb. The execution of the Man and the Woman was postponed through a promise of a Messianic Seed, an offering of sacrificial flesh, and a covering of skin. The fruits of the land and womb were still given but with curses of barrenness. These would be mitigated with sacrifices—giving back to God the “first fruits” to restore what had been stolen. So the instances of polygamy in the Bible must be considered in the light of the promises given to Adam and Eve in Eden, which serve as the foundation for all that follows. To put it briefly, polygamy was not about sex so much as it was about dominion

The first wife

In 1 Samuel 8, the tribes of Israel desired to set a king over them. Moses gave them commands for this event (Deuteronomy 17:1420), so we know that it was God’s plan for it to happen at some point. Yet the Lord was displeased with them because they desired to have a human king before they were ready.

This was the national equivalent of Adam’s sin in the “Sanctuary” —seizing kingdom before God’s time. Adam was to submit as a humble servant, with God as his king, until he was ready to rule. Then God would make him a “public” servant, that is, a servant with authority, a shepherd-king. Cain also seized kingdom before God’s time, but in a greater domain—not in the Garden but in the Land. As Man’s firstborn, Cain was the natural heir, and thus he was required to learn submission to God in order to qualify to inherit the household.

This submission to God was to be expressed not only in offering the firstfruits of his labors, but also in his willingness to accept the necessity for a prior blood sacrifice on his behalf, in his place, as the firstborn son. Only with his life “redeemed” by blood could he then make an offering. But in Genesis 4, Cain presented his “land” offering (the fruits of

the ground) before the “womb” offering (the blood of the “blameless” animal). It was not the content of his offering that displeased God but the timing— and the reason behind it. God requires that priesthood comes before kingdom because humble service precedes exaltation. Instead of being “lifted up” by God, Cain’s face fell.

Cain’s anger symbolically turned his plowshare into a sword. God showed mercy once again, but the dirt that bore Adam would no longer “yield its strength” to Cain. His kingly might would have to be unnaturally made rather than naturally grown.

Just as Cain’s failure occurred on the threshold of the Garden and the Land, so the next failure occurred on the threshold of the Land and the World. It was a decree by humanity’s self-styled first king, Lamech. (The name Lamech is an anagram of melech, which means “king.”)

The stories of Cain and Lamech together form a false “head and body,” an antiChrist and an antiChurch. The murder of Abel was effectively the anti-sacrament that rejected animal sacrifice. This led to Lamech’s oath, which established seventy-times-seven vengeance, not seventy-timesseven forgiveness, as the rule for the world’s first kingdom (Genesis 4:24; Matthew 18:22).

Cities and multiplied offspring are features of the World, not the Land. So Adam’s sin in the Garden was the theft of the promised abundance in the Land, and the sin of the lineage of Cain in the Land was the theft and control of the World.

The first world

The seizing of kingdom in the Garden and the Land led to a kingdom of violence in the World, but this was still related to the fruit of the land and the womb. Without food there is no personal future, and without offspring there is no cultural future. Being the “seed of the serpent,” the motivation for Cain’s “family tree” was not mere survival (the priestly Tree of Life) but kingdom, power, and glory (the kingly Tree of Knowledge).

This is the reason why the first true king was also history’s first polygamist. Just as Cain built a fortress or walled city to establish and protect himself, so Lamech built a dynasty to establish and protect his power and legacy. His reign was founded upon history’s second murder, which was made public by the wannabe despot as a means of intimidation.

The first mention of polygamy is followed by the achievements of Lamech’s royal sons as they took dominion of the world. The text then returns to the humble,

priestly “family tree” where only one son, Seth, is born to Eve to serve as Abel’s replacement. The context of polygamy in the Bible is thus the enmity between the “seed” of the Woman and the “seed” of the serpent. With more sons, the godless would inherit the earth—not as a gift from God but by sheer force of numbers.

Polygamy was a way of stealing the future from God and the godly. Taking multiple wives enabled the acceleration of

Just as Israel was later humiliated by the brains and brawn of the Philistines, it seems that the Sethites quickly became secondclass citizens under the Cainites.

The Philistines’ monopoly over metalwork meant that Israelites had no swords, only plowshares (1 Samuel 13:19-22). Likewise, the Sethites would have been disempowered by the Cainites’ skills in metallurgy (Genesis 4:22).

procreation, the establishing of an instant dynasty without having to wait with patient faith upon God to open the womb. In other words, polygamy was the “World” equivalent of stealing fruit in the Garden.

Identifying this tactic also gives us the background we need to understand the events in Genesis 6. Polygamy is the reason why “men began to multiply on the face of the land.” Notice also the deliberate mentions of“face” and “land,” now as references to Cain.

The remedy for such humiliating cultural exclusion was to “marry up.” As it had been in the Garden, the beauty of the “fruit” of the “Adams” whose seed multiplied on the earth was the “skin” on a temptation offered by the devil. Thus, as the cultural outcome of the Fall, the mighty warriors of the Cainite line were the “fallen ones” or Nephilim. These were not supernatural beings, as some believe, but the apex of natural man without God—all the brains and the brawn but none of the strength that matters to God.

Through intermarriage with the priestly Sethites, the Cainites seized full control. It is likely that the mediating sacrifices were now abandoned altogether, and vengeance completely replaced mercy and forgiveness. The world was filled with violence, so God wiped them out. Nothing at all was left of Lamech’s legacy.

When the Sethite “Sons of God” took the “daughters of Adam,”

Polygamy was a way of stealing the future from the godly.

polygamy became their cultural norm. This explains the holy significance of the monogamous marriages of Noah’s family. It was a sign of their patient—and countercultural—faith in God. All of the “Adam-and-Eve” adult pairs on the ark were waiting upon God for the fruit of the womb and the land. And the meek inherited the earth.

The firstborn

Noah’s vineyard was the “Garden” of the new order, and its serpent was his son, Ham. The theft of Noah’s robe—possibly because he mistook his father’s deep Adamic sleep as actual death—was a “deathbed” attempt to steal Noah’s authority as ruler of the household. In this way, the greater share of the inheritance would be given to Ham’s son Canaan. We deduce this from the nature of Noah’s curses when he awoke. The lion’s share was given to Japheth, whose lineage became the most fruitful upon the earth. A robe was later given to Joseph as Jacob’s heir—selected not by birth order but because of his faith. There were many instances where the natural firstborn, like Cain, was rejected in favor of God’s “firstborn.” This also explains why God referred to the entire nation of Israel, a “newborn” nation that was not listed in the Table of Nations in Genesis 10, as His chosen heir.

“Then you shall say to Pharaoh, ‘Thus says the Lord: “Israel is My son, My firstborn. So I say to you, let My son go that he may serve Me. But if you refuse to let him go, indeed I will kill your son, your firstborn.”’” (Exodus 4:22-23 NKJV)

The Edenic promises made to Adam were the context of the “land and womb” promises of God to Abraham in Genesis 15.

The enmity between the seed of the serpent and the seed of the Woman continued in the rivalry between Egypt (the Land of Ham) and Abraham (a son of Shem).

Not only did the ancient kings, like Pharaoh, use theft and slave labor to cut corners and build their cities quickly, but polygamy in the patriarchal era was once again a means of establishing a dynasty without patient, humble submission to God.

Pharaoh’s seizure of Sarah from Abraham was an attempt by the devil to steal and corrupt the seed of the Woman.

When this failed, polygamy became a means of hijacking the promised seed from within the Abrahamic people. Sarah’s attempt to “accelerate” the fruit promised by God—by giving Hagar the Egyptian to her husband—was a reprise of the strategy before the flood.

But God intervened. They would have to wait for Him to open the

womb, and also to transform the famine-prone land of Canaan into the fertile country that it was when Israel came to conquer it four centuries later.

Ultimately, Hagar and her son were cast out, and with her, the polygamy of Abraham. His dominion would come from God’s hand, in God’s time.

And, of course, through various trials, Abraham’s faith in God matured to the point where he was even willing to offer his miraculous “priestly firstborn” as an ascension offering. His faith was not misplaced. The Lord provided a sacrificial substitute for Isaac just as he had for Cain.

The Edenic context also explains Lot’s move to the decadent but fertile plain, as well as the apparently strange and desperate measure resorted to by his two daughters. Both of these failures of character were simply further attempts to obtain the fruit of the land and the womb—and secure a legacy—by ungodly means.

The brothers

The nakedness and covering of Adam and Eve in the Garden, and Noah in his vineyard, might explain the condemnations of nakedness in the Law of Moses. Although it is not a prohibition of polygamy in general, there is a command against taking one’s wife’s sister as a “rival” wife.

“And you shall not take a woman as a rival wife to her sister, uncovering her nakedness while her sister is still alive.” (Leviticus 18:18)

This brings us to a consideration of what is arguably the trickiest instance of polygamy in the Bible—the two wives of righteous Jacob, a man described as “blameless” (Genesis 25:27). In this case, God did not intervene, and nobody was cast out.

Esau, the faithless firstborn, was a potential “head” like Cain. Even worse, he himself was an entire “World” of sin—the whole pre-flood era in a single man.

He sold his birthright for food (Garden), then he desired to kill his brother (Land). He also took two Canaanite wives who made his parents’ lives bitter (World).

If Esau became the heir of Isaac’s household, the promises to Abraham would be derailed. Once again, the future was being stolen from the godly, and Isaac was as blind to Satan’s strategy as he was to his surroundings.

Surprisingly, the Lord’s answer to this was to use the circumstances of Jacob’s flight to give him two wives, just like his pagan brother. However, Jacob was tricked into it by his uncle (another anagram: the name Laban is a play on nabal, which means “fool”). And, like his mother Rebekah, his wives came from among family.

It was now Laban who was acting like a serpentine king, offering refuge and a wife to his desperate relative only in order to take advantage of him. The prosperity promised to Jacob was being siphoned off by a rival. To his credit, Jacob’s response was not theft or murder but submission.

Laban used Jacob’s debt slavery to enlarge his own household. But Jacob, as wise as his mother, outcrafted the serpent once again and left with great plunder. God used Jacob’s misfortune to make

Jacob’s fortune—yet without sin. He accelerated the size, wealth, and glory of Jacob’s household to rival that of his worldly brother. To vindicate Jacob’s character, God put him through one final test—the confrontation with Esau. Like Abraham, Jacob had now reached a level of spiritual maturity where he was ready and willing to obey God even if it meant losing everything he had gained from God’s hand.

The wives

The next antagonism was not about the “head” but about the “body.” It was “bridal” in nature —a competition over child bearing. God loved Jacob over Esau, an idiom which relates to the choice of an heir. Now Jacob loved Rachel over Leah.

Just as polygamy was less about sex than it was about dominion,

God used Jacob’s misfortune to make Jacob’s fortune.

so also the rivalries between wives were less about the affections of the shared husband than they were for the place of their sons in covenant history.

The “head and body” pattern shows up once again in Exodus, where the personal rivalry between Hagar and Sarah was now a national conflict between Egypt and Israel. After Israel’s escape, there was a struggle in the wilderness between the sons of Jacob and Esau in the battle between Joshua and the army of Esau’s grandson, Amalek.

This new “Garden, Land, World” pattern was completed in the idolatry and adultery of the men of Israel with the women of Midian under a scheme cooked up by the prophet Balaam. Like the intermarriage in Genesis 6, this sin condemned the entire generation to destruction.

The house

There had been struggle enough between the sons of the same mother. To this was added rivalry between the sons of the different mothers as potential heirs of the household of their father. This is the context of the hatred of Leah’s sons for Joseph, whom Jacob exalted over them. It is also the reason why Reuben slept with Bilhah, Jacob’s concubine, why Absalom slept with David’s concubines, and why the man in

the Corinthian church slept with his father’s wife. These were all attempts to seize the household. It was always about dominion.

Joseph’s response to Potiphar’s wife (in Genesis 39:8-9) implies that the actual temptation was not sex but a real opportunity to steal his master’s household. Surely, since his brothers had stolen his rightful inheritance from him, he was entitled to it!

Just as the terms “house” and “household” are related, so the Hebrew text repeatedly links offspring with architecture. This is because God’s house is always made out of “living stones.”

The first instance is the fact that Adam was created but Eve was constructed, a word next used to describe Cain building a city.

In Numbers 2, the tribes of Israel were arranged as “social architecture” around the Tent of God—four gigantic beams as “stairways” of a human ziggurat to ascend the mountain of God. This was the fulfilment of the promise made to Jacob at Bethel, which means “the house of God.”

In Genesis 30:1-5, barren Rachel suggests that Jacob sleep with her handmaid Bilhah, “that she may give birth on my knees and I too shall be built up through her.”

Verse 5 contains a pun. “I shall be built up” (’ibbaneh) plays on the word banim, “sons,” and so has the sense of “I shall be

sonned.” The godly bride always desires to become a city.

The target of the only explicit prohibition of polygamy (in Deuteronomy 17) was Israel’s future kings. This is why God slew Bathsheba’s “firstborn” to David. And it explains the fixation of John the Baptist with the adultery of King Herod.

Bloodshed and famine

The curse upon the ground after Cain’s murder of Abel is a recurring theme. The drought and famine suffered by Israel in the days of Elijah followed the offering of sons to Baal. The link between the land and the womb is always hidden in plain sight.

Likewise, the bloodshed at the end of the Book of Judges was the reason for the famine at the beginning of the Book of Ruth. In this case, the practice of polygamous surrogacy was reversed in the “firstborn” birth of Obed (whose name means “servant”) to Ruth on the knees of Naomi. He was not only a new generation, but also the product of a godly, monogamous union between a faithful Jewish ruler and a faithful Gentile. And it is significant that Ruth was a “daughter” of Lot’s son, Moab. This land-and-womb link in the judgment upon Cain explains a lot of imagery in the prophets and the New Testament

concerning both physical and spiritual barrenness and fertility.

Despite the various attempts to corrupt and steal the promised seed of the Woman, Israel’s long history of barren wombs that were miraculously made fertile culminated in the virgin birth.

The Seed promised by God was finally born, so the devil’s focus shifted from bearing sons to slaying them. Not only was polygamy no longer relevant, but God’s own focus shifted from the sons of men to the Sons of God.

As he said these things, a woman in the crowd raised her voice and said to him, “Blessed is the womb that bore you, and the breasts at which you nursed!” But he said, “Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it!” (Luke 11:27-28)

The martyrdom of Stephen began the slaughter of the Sons of God, the prophets of the New Covenant era, and this fresh bloodshed resulted in a great famine (Acts 11:28). It also compounded Jerusalem’s blood guilt and resulted in the utter destruction of both temple and city—“head and body”—finally avenging the blood of Abel and his successors (Luke 11:51).

Jesus described the final days of the Old Covenant era as being like the days before the Great Flood. Instead of trusting in God for abundant crops and abundant

sons as Abraham did, the Herods had been “eating and drinking” (fruit of the land), marrying and giving in marriage (fruit of the womb) by evading God’s means of blessing, just like the Cainites had done under King Lamech.

The Herods’ dynasty ended with their entire city being “cut around” like Jericho, circumcised with a Roman trench before it was left desolate, cut off forever.

Paul demonstrated his grasp of Scripture when he contrasted the

Western culture, despite its flaws, dominated the world through its adherence to biblical principles. That heritage is now being stolen by a cabal of spiritually-impotent globalist experts. The strategy devised by these delusional false prophets for establishing control would appall even the Cainites.

Like Lamech, their aim is the theft of the world from God. By destroying the natural, protective boundaries of sovereign nations (land), and of nuclear families (womb), the globalists seek to make every individual vulnerable to direct control. They rob the righteous, murder and mutilate children, and demonize the Godgiven gifts of abundant energy and food. But the outcome of their “save the planet” strategies will be a catastrophic barrenness.

old Jerusalem with the new using the image of Hagar and Sarah.

Now Hagar is Mount Sinai in Arabia; she corresponds to the present Jerusalem, for she is in slavery with her children.

But the Jerusalem above is free, and she is our mother. For it is written, “Rejoice, O barren one who does not bear; break forth and cry aloud, you who are not in labor! For the children of the desolate one will be more than those of the one who has a husband.” (Galatians 4:25-27)

When Paul condemned the worldly-minded tyrants of his day, his use of the word “belly” in Philippians 3:19 was Levitical, referring to the bodily appetites for food (land) and sex (womb).

So the solution in our day will be the tyrants’ own spear, thrust through their bellies—stomach and genitals together—by Jesus, our Phinehas, to cut them off. n

1Peter J. Leithart, The Death Penalty in the Mosaic Law. theopolisinstitute.com

“…whose god is their belly…”

The globalists’ aim is the theft of the world from God.

PRAYER HOLY MOUNTAINS

In Bible times, God chose a series of mountains as milestones for His purposes with Man. But now, filled with the Spirit of God, Man chooses the mountains.

A SPIRITUAL RETREAT LIKE NO OTHER

The “high places” in Israel were established in rebellion against God, whose Spirit rested upon Mount Zion.

Jesus was the first king of Israel to remove all the high places— including Mount Zion itself, which was now a place of spiritual rebellion under the rule of the Herods and Pharisees. He mentioned this to the Samaritan woman at the well.

KENNEDY BARUKH INTRODUCTION BY MICHAEL BULL

Jesus said to her, “Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem will you worship the Father.” (John 4:21)

After the blood of Christ was shed in Jerusalem, the special places of worship where men had offered blood sacrifices

were all shaken and then removed. We see this event described symbolically in the Book of Revelation.

After His ascension to heaven (described in Revelation 4-5), Jesus removed not only the “sky” of the Old Covenant scroll, and the high places of the “Land” of

Israel (the spiritual “mountains”), but then also the high places of the “Sea” of the Gentiles (the spiritual “islands”).

The sky vanished like a scroll that is being rolled up, and every mountain and island was removed from its place. (Revelation 6:14)

And every island fled away, and no mountains were to be found. (Revelation 16:20)

Jesus now reigns in heaven upon the true spiritual mountain of God, and as a result He claims every place on earth as sacred.

The division between sacred and profane spaces that was stipulated under the Law of Moses is now gone. Just as the Spirit filled the Tabernacle of Moses and the Temple of Solomon upon their completion, so the saints themselves were filled with the Spirit on the Day of Pentecost.

But this does not mean that Christians cannot set aside special places for worship. Just as the Jews were free to choose where to build their synagogues across the empire, becoming the foundation of the Christian age that was to come, the Church also now builds churches and cathedrals anywhere it wants as outposts for spiritual conquest.

And if materials are not available due to poverty, or the Church

must meet in secret due to persecution, any place where the Spirit-filled saints gather instantly becomes a “sacred space”—whether it be in a cellar, a catacomb, or even under a tree (Matthew 18:20).

In the West, the practice of retreats for spiritual renewal has a long history, and facilities were built specially for such purposes.

In the modern era, the focus of these tends to be on personal spiritual development.

Kennedy Barukh

Born and raised in a town called Kitale, I am the fourth child in a family of six.

We lost both of our parents when I was thirteen, which made life, and school, quite a struggle.

After leaving school, I did menial jobs while studying business management, and I worked until I became a pastor.

I heard the Gospel while in high school and became a Christian.

In Kenya, actual mountains have been set aside as spiritual retreats for the saints.

But the focus in these places is different. It is much less about the personal growth of the saint and more about seeking an intervention from God.

Kennedy Barukh is a pastor in Eldoret, Kenya, East Africa. After introducing himself, he tells us about these mountains—how they were established, what they are like, and how they influence the culture around them.

Since I was born again, I have been seeking the Lord in the Scriptures, in Christian literature, and in prayer and fasting.

In 2018, I planted a church in a village called Tongaren. Since then it has seen a lot of growth.

We started a nursery school for the orphans and the needy in that community. But sadly, after three years we could no longer support the staff and it had to close. The assistant pastor that I trained now takes care of the saints there.

I planted another church in

The prayer mountains inspire the local people to pray.

Eldoret town where I live with my wife and our son. It is still young but doing very well, and the saints here are very hungry for the Word of God.

In my own desire to better understand the Bible I have been greatly blessed through mentors who have provided lectures and study material, inspired me, advised me, and pushed me deeper into the things of God’s kingdom.

Although we have numerous churches in Kenya, many are not sound in their teachings. My great love for the Word has led to a desire to teach in, or even establish, a Bible school at some point in the future.

My vision is to build healthy churches that not only follow the biblical pattern, but also demonstrate the power of God.

To achieve this, good teaching must be accompanied by good prayer. And in our region, prayer mountains have encouraged this practice in wonderful ways.

Mountains of prayer

Prayer mountains, as we know them here, are places where people retreat to seek the Lord, especially when there is an emergency or a great and desperate need at hand. These sites are actual mountains, with caves, rocks, bushes, and

trees. Sometimes there is wildlife, such as squirrels, monkeys, and even the occasional snake.

These mountains have been set apart for a noble purpose—to be a place where the people of God, from any church, can come for concentrated times of prayer.

There are a number of these prayer mountains across the country. In the region where we live, there are two of these mountains, roughly twenty kilometers apart from each other.

as much prayer as possible in different parts of the country.

They knew that a praying nation would always be a God-fearing nation, and that this shared reliance upon God would sustain the people’s desire to serve Him. However, because there are numerous denominations, conflicts over different teachings and practices—as well as the fact that some did not fully embrace the idea—meant that conducting these united prayer meetings inside our church buildings would be a difficult task.

Instead, they established special places for prayer that were neutral, locations where anyone from any denomination could come and seek the Lord in prayer without any rejection, disagreement, or disturbance.

Since these mountains “rose up” in various parts of Kenya, they have inspired the people in the towns and villages around them to embrace a culture of prayer. Their genesis in the late 1980s and early 1990s is an interesting story.

Kenya experienced a revival of Christian faith, and the Gospel ministers of the time are still often referred to as the “fathers.” These ministers realized that the only way to maintain the spiritual zeal was to encourage

Even after the time of revival ended, these prayer centers and mountains not only remained, but even more were set apart.

As a result of people praying, churches have grown and their effectiveness has increased.

Those who founded the prayer mountains have been very encouraged over the years as they have seen people’s lives changed.

They are passionate about these places because they have seen the results of more people praying, and people praying more fervently and more often.

Churches have grown as a result of people praying.

They also plant, water, and hope for another time of great spiritual harvest across the nation, and they say that this also requires much time spent in prayer.

Decently and in order

Each prayer mountain has a team of managers or stewards. They not only make sure everything remains orderly, and keep things tidy, but also, when appropriate, minister to the people who visit.

Each of the mountains has its own unique characteristics, which means each also has its own distinct regulations, put in place to keep things running smoothly.

Some of these may sound strict, but we know that the devil desires to disrupt and cause division in places of prayer, so no opportunity is given to him. Because these sites have been set aside for prayer and fasting, most of the mountains don’t allow visitors to bring food or any drink other than water.

It is believed that eating food, or drinking anything other than water, unnecessarily tempts those who are truly fasting, and disturbs their focus.

An actual restriction helps everyone with self-discipline. The other advantage of this is that you don’t need to bring any food with you!

And the main point, of course, is that the lack of self denial concerning earthly things also lessens the power of the prayers we offer while we are here.

Besides the rules concerning food, there are other standards that those who have gone to pray and fast must adhere to.

Many prayer mountains have no dormitories, so for sleeping arrangements the women are given one side of the mountain and the men take the other.

must not lay hands on somebody in prayer whom they don’t know.

Women must dress very modestly and cannot wear trousers.

Speaking on your phone while on the mountain is not allowed.

And to avoid any abuse of the generosity of others, giving money or gifts to anyone to pray for you is not permitted.

Some of the prayer mountains have improved their facilities as funding has permitted, with dormitories, bathrooms and toilets, and a kitchen for boiling hot drinking water.

Some have built sanctuaries where people can meet for devotions, and also prayer cells which are small cubicles where one person can lock himself in and pray for some hours without interruption.

Do not deprive one another, except perhaps by agreement for a limited time, that you may devote yourselves to prayer; but then come together again, so that Satan may not tempt you because of your lack of self-control. (1 Corinthians 7:5)

Visitors are not allowed to mingle with the opposite sex, unless it is during the day and they are a couple or are attending as part of a mixed team.

To avoid controversy or any allegations of indecency, visitors

At these mountains, visitors pay a small fee for their stay which helps to maintain the facilities.

My first visit

The prayer mountain closest to us does not have dormitories, so visitors simply look for a place in the bush, in a cave, or on a smooth rock, and prepare a place for themselves to sleep.

The first time I visited was just after I became a Christian. I was very keen when I heard about it, but didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t take a blanket to keep me

If there is no pastor present, a steward will teach the Word.

warm during the night, so I had to share with a brother that I met there. He had been there for about two weeks when I arrived. I was able to fast for seven days. I can tell you that I felt like dying afterwards, but I can also tell you that the Lord’s presence felt very close and real during that time and afterwards.

Regular fasting has now become part of my lifestyle. My body has become accustomed to it, so I can do it for many days without a struggle, while gaining the same spiritual benefit.

Devoted day and night

At this mountain, there is a compulsory early morning devotion to start the day. The men and women meet in one place for worship and praise.

The Word is preached by a visiting pastor who is chosen by the managers from among those who have come to fast and pray, or, if there is not a pastor present, one of the qualified stewards will teach.

As much as possible, they try to maintain sound teaching, avoid confusion and heresy, and cater to Christians from different denominations, so they are very careful about choosing people to preach to those who visit. Because the only activities in these places are devotions and

prayer, there are no distractions such as there are at home. People find that a focus on the Lord is much easier to maintain, so there is a unique intensity to the prayer that happens on the mountains.

People can pray for very long hours without interruption. They can shout and cry out to God without restriction, ridicule, or fear of disturbing others. Some weep, and even crawl, as they lift their voices to our gracious God in their distress.

use all of their limited time there wisely until the Lord answers them. The fervency in the prayer is like that of Elijah, in the prayer that brought rain after three and a half years of drought. With all honesty, I can confirm that those who go there to pray are rewarded by God with the answers that they seek. I have personally seen God intervene in some of the most desperate situations in my life. Many testimonies of answered prayer have been recorded.

Janet’s testimony

My husband deserted me and our children for another woman, and stopped providing for us as a family. This was a desperate situation. My son could not even go to school because his father refused to pay the school fees.

Even those who have never been serious about prayer suddenly get serious when they visit a prayer mountain. Being among hundreds of people zealously crying and pleading with the Lord through the day and the night changes your attitude, and you more willingly humble yourself before Him as they do.

When you enter the mountain, it is obvious that many of the people have come because they are desperate with problems or even emergencies. They have to

After one and a half years, I decided that I must do whatever was necessary to end the shame and hardship, so I took the matter to the Lord in a more serious way in a three week visit to the prayer mountain.

Four days after I returned home, my husband phoned and apologized for what he had done.

Two weeks later, he returned home, cut communication with the other woman, and he has since been taking care of the family as he did before he left. Praise God!

Even those who are not serious about prayer get serious.

BLOOD MOONS

THE MEANING OF MATTHEW 1

Our God, unlike the moguls of Hollywood, has a perfect record when it comes to writing good sequels. Watching a sequel that is better than the original is very rare when it comes to movies, but the inspired writers of the Bible seem to do it effortlessly. So, what is their secret?

In hindsight, we can see that the seeds of every work of God are apparent in what came before. Every fresh work of the Spirit

was entirely dependent upon the rich soil of the old. Every new development grew out of previous events in a way that was entirely natural and yet also completely surprising.

And that is the very nature of resurrection—the old is transformed into something that is not only new, but also better.

Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus is puzzling not only because of the women he includes, but also because of the men he leaves out.

BULL

For example, every new house of God in history was a more glorious version of the previous one—even if that glory was sometimes less visible (not made of earthly stones) and more spiritual (made of living stones).

That process of rebirth is the secret to writing a good sequel. It is not something we could have foreseen, and yet, once revealed, it makes such perfect sense that we wonder how we failed to see it coming. The reason that this approach works in writing a sequel is because the audience wants the experience of watching the first movie for the first time again, which is, in itself, impossible. So the sequel needs to be the same as the original, and yet also entirely different, all at once. The story has to be entirely familiar

MICHAEL

and yet entirely reborn, recognizable in character yet more glorious in nature. Like an “Eve” built from an “Adam,” the features of the old need to be interpreted in new ways, in a fashion that re-establishes, complements, and perhaps even reinterprets the old, but without replacing or violating it.

Matthew’s Gospel was written to provoke shock and awe among Jewish hearers. The genealogy at its beginning might seem tedious to us, but it would have been like seeing “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…” on a cinema screens after four centuries of no Star Wars.

Pushing the boundaries while honoring the rules is exactly how God managed to be completely consistent throughout history and yet also gobsmackingly revelatory, culminating, of course, in the incarnation.

In His teachings, Jesus Himself “broke” the rules by superseding them, and in a way that revealed their original genius. One wiser than Solomon was here, building upon what already existed, often subverting it but never destroying it (Matthew 5:17).

Achieving this in literature or cinema is quite a task, and it requires that the author draw upon fresh sources of inspiration from outside of the original.

In biblical history, whenever

Israel became stale, God brought in new blood through marriages with faithful Gentiles (such as Tamar, Rahab and Ruth, who are named in Matthew 1), or through the riches offered by Gentile sponsors to build God’s house.

These were incorporated— grafted into—the existing tree to transform it into something better, stronger, more resilient, and of course, more fruitful (Romans 11:17). It is the same with any church today, which

make a point about spiritual fertility, that is, faith. He omits the spiritually barren wherever possible, and adds the spiritually fertile, as a sign of what was in store for the nation itself.

The tidy numbering of three sets of fourteen is a subtle reference to Israel’s harvest festivals, which were governed by 28-day lunar months. A full moon provided a “long day” with light to celebrate at night (Zechariah 14:7).

In this way, the entire Old Testament era took place in the moonlight of a spiritual “nighttime” before the dawn of the age of the Messiah and His kingdom (Malachi 4:2).

Passover took place in the middle of the first month, on the fourteenth day, a full moon. This feast reminded Israel that the nation was “God’s firstborn” just like miraculous Isaac.

either thrives by evangelism or slowly withers and dies.

This tactic explains Matthew’s eccentric use of Old Testament records in his “opening crawl.”

He “grafts in” not just women, but Gentile women, to set readers up for the shocking “payoff”— the Great Commission—at the end of the book. And he also “cuts out” a lot of Jewish men. And we are supposed to ask why?

Ancient writers were never careless, so Matthew, a Levite, was using physical generations to

So Matthew presents the history of Israel—the woman standing on the moon and pregnant with the sun (Revelation 12:1-2)—in three sets of fourteen generations as a menstrual cycle, waxing and waning like the moon.

The genealogy grows bright to the kingdom of faithful David, then dark again to the despair of the exile in Babylon, then bright again to the birth of Christ, the “seed of the Woman” (Genesis 3:15) who would inherit David’s throne in a New Jerusalem. n

The Old Testament era took place in a spiritual night-time.

FICTION

THE CLOUDS OF MOUNT SINAI

The Mount Sinai Hospital was neolithic on the black hill of Hollow, New Hampshire.

Storms and sieges seemed more appropriate times to make mad dashes to greener pastures, and these pastures were forecasted to have a week’s worth of rain upon their arrival. But here, the Willamette Valley pines had their cloudy curtain drawn back early, and no morning mists for relief from burdensome rays so heavy that they seemed to be cast by spells.

Winter dampened the trees and the wind bit at the sparse branches, the sidewalks and stairs were perilous with soggy leaves, and the dim yellow light cast a pallor upon the milky stone building.

Ambling inside the halls of

REMY WILKINS

determined walks and brisk marches, was a woman of twenty, jeans and dark hoodie, armlets of cord and band, swatched and tangled to her elbows. Her hair was an oily brown and cut into sharp hackles, angled each way. She wore the grim look of a teen approximating the seething loss of adulthood and a ring in the center of her lower lip.

“I’m so lost,” Mara Mason said to the receptionist.

The woman looked up, but kept her fingers in the ribs of the papers she searched. “Who you looking for, ma’am?”

Mimi Mason, her grandmother, had begun the snowy trek into death. Heart trouble was the report a month ago when things began to look bleak. Another event had left her inert in Mt. Sinai and the family scrambling to send a representative to

shepherd her to the life after.

“You mean the ‘afterlife,’” she’d said when her father asked her to go.

“What’s the difference?”

“We know there’s an ‘after’ after life, but not a ‘life’ after life.” Her father was too busy for her ‘metaphysics of angst.’ He was too busy getting blandly rich. Her mother too fragile. Her uncle was also unavailable to sit with an old woman of declining health. Her aunt was too motherly and their children much too schooled to be able to take the time for an event that could happen within the next three to six months.

The nurse led Mara to her grandmother’s room. Her left arm itched and the cold had made her face chap and peel. Her body felt threshed, her chaff and ashes winddriven.

Mara worked at minimum wage

and was promised six months rent to take up the post on behalf of the family. She was to call the moment Mimi’s death seemed imminent. Arrangements had been made at the hotel across the street for her and she’d slung three fat books into her bag before she left.

“I’m Mara, Gerry’s daughter. Gerry your son. He isn’t here,” she said for the third time and went ahead and added, “Eli isn’t here either.”

Mimi seemed wispy, as wispy as her silver ruching of hair, more cirrus than cumulus. She was trussed up in blankets and medical tubing. Still, her blue

eyes were prone to drift upward as if searching for some place to rise.

When she entered, gramma Mimi smiled, but it had been eight years, haircuts ago, blemishes, braces and months of cynicism, lies, and a gouged-out fragility since they’d seen each other. Mara wasn’t recognized as anyone other than a child of Adam, but was greeted with matriarchal warmness.

Mimi wore a thick woven sweater, which matched the rosacea of her cheeks, and she straightened the leather buttons as if arranging baked goods on a plate.

They spoke briefly, and then briefly, and then briefly again. Mimi’s mind was a wilderness of no landmarks. A wandering would occur at every bend of conversation, recursive, repetitive, full of lost names and places.

Mara read for two weeks, her feet on the bed rails. She smoked outside, she ate in the cafeteria three times a day, she wandered the halls waiting for Mimi to wake and speak or decline so far into sleep that she would never rise again.

“What’s that in your lip, sweetie?”

Mara pooched out her lower lip

to make the ring more prominent. “It’s a piercing, gramma.”

“It’s pretty.” She’d say it everyday. Nightly, outside in an architectural cleft preserved from the bitter wind, she would smoke with a sullen janitor named Aaron. He’d kick up the mulch, deliver the gossip of the day, and make broad pronouncements about books and music.

“Read any Pynchon?”

“Just Gravity’s Rainbow,” she said meekly.

Aaron bent at the waist and spit between his legs. “That book literally made me sick.”

Mara laughed. She put the cigarette to her lips. The red ember flashed and the tendrils of the tobacco reached inside her, rustling her lungs.

“Ever have sex?” He asked and angled the brim of his winter cap to hide his eyes.

Mara held the smoke inside her and nodded. “I’m not as young as you think.”

Aaron bopped his head approvingly. “Just wondering.” He dug his tongue into his lower lip. Then asked, “Got any tats?”

She pulled back her right coat sleeve to reveal her forearm. The light above the exit illuminated their hollow enough to see the Caduceus in blacks and blues on

her arm. She held it out to Aaron.

Still holding his cigarette, he traced with his middle finger the serpents twining the winged staff.

“Awesome,” was all he said before he began contorting and disrobing himself enough to show off his own ink. Sloughing off his coat and lifting and stretching his shirt and pant legs, he stacked himself head to toe on the altar of her attention.

Mara asked about the raven of his shoulder and the claws of fire digging into his back, the dagger over his heart and the circle of red around his wrist, the serpent on his leg and the blank box like a thrown die above his ankle, but he talked about movies and his favorite bands, of friends and wild nights.

Mara let her eyes glaze over, letting his voice fade to a dull murmur. His time in her presence was measured in centimeters of tobacco. She pulled her sleeve down and

jostled the bracelets to her wrist, locking her symbol away. The pillar of smoke in her lungs was released and caught fire in the light overhanging the door.

It was Sunday. Her grandmother had slept it half away. She stirred when Mara entered. “Hello, young lady,” she said.

“I’m Mara, your granddaughter.” She went over to a bag of cosmetics and withdrew a pearshaped crystal bottle. “Would you like your perfume?”

“Is it the Lord’s day?”

“Yes, gramma.”

Her grandmother extended her hands out, palms up like she was being handcuffed. Mara spritzed each wrist and they each inhaled. The scent of wood and spice was carried about the room.

“You have to smell good for the Lord,” she said to Mara.

She said this every time and every Sunday when they visited growing up. She’d share her scent with Mara. They smelled nice for the Lord together.

“When I can no longer go to church,” Gramma Mimi said to her father one Christmas, “make sure you give me my Sunday perfume. Someday I might not know who I am or where I am, but if you give me my smells, I’ll know what I am.”

Her father bought the perfume

“You have to smell good for the Lord.”

for gramma every birthday. By year’s end, it would only be half gone, but he would replace it anyway. It was unknown what she did with the remainder.

Mimi smelled her wrists and laid back on the bed. “Thank you, young lady, that’s all.”

Mara sat before an untouched ham sandwich. She pressed a potato chip until it snapped in half. She continued to halve it until it was dust.

“Tell me when she’s circling the drain,” her father had said. “Until, what?”

“You know, when it’s close to the end.”

“Daddy, it’s close to the end. She mostly sleeps. She doesn’t know who she is. She doesn’t know me. She doesn’t remember anything.”

“But tell me when the doctors say it’s close.”

She allowed him to conclude the phone call without another word. Her time here had stopped being measured in hours. Soon the days would cease to be counted and her time would only add up to weeks.

She had stopped reading, encountering an impossible Russian novel named Oblomov She slept when her grandmother slept, waking and hovering over her when she woke and inhabited life for a few disjointed moments.

The cafeteria, which had been newly remodeled to look like a mall food court, was empty. The tables had a dark wood veneer set atop faux brick tiles. The offerings were all prepackaged in cellophane.

Mara sat beneath the light of a streetlamp-styled column and prayed.

Help it to end soon. Help it to be painless. Help me not to lose my mind when I’m old. Help her.

Please. Please help. Please help me.

She blinked her eyes clear of tears and pushed the food away.

Mara peeled a shoestring scab from her left forearm. She bore a ladder of lateral strikes with only a few crosshatchings. She cut herself sometimes. It started as an accident.

A nurse entered wearing blue scrubs, wide and worn. She plucked a yogurt from a kiosk, sliding her ID badge beneath a scanner to pay, and looked for a place to sit. Mara waved her over.

Zoe was one of Mimi’s nurses. They passed stilted hellos to each other when they met in the halls and brief updates in hushed tones. Zoe sat down across from her.

Mara tugged her sleeve down and rattled her armlets in place. She hid her eyes from the nurse and folded the napkin over her discarded scabs.

“This is a stressful time, Mara.” Marra nodded, but kept her eyes down.

“You don’t need to punish yourself.”

Mara flicked a look at the fatigued nurse. “These are old. Haven’t done it since I’ve been here.”

Zoe nodded. “I’m sorry, I’m smacked tired. I don’t have the energy. Just let me know if you need help?”

Mara cleaned one fingernail with another. “Noceo ergo sum.”

Zoe pulled the lid off her yogurt. “I’m coming off a twelve hour shift. What’s that mean?”

“It means… ‘I’m fine.’”

“Wait, what is it again?”

Mara tugged her shirt down to reveal the tattoo beneath her clavicle.

The older woman read the gothic script. She seemed to chew the inside of her mouth. “I went to medschool, you know. Primum non nocere, first do no harm.”

Mara shrugged.

Zoe continued. “So that means, you hurtin’, you livin’? Something like that?”

“That’s right.” Mara’s lip quivered.

“Well, I hear that, to be honest.”

Zoe stabbed her yogurt with a plastic spoon and churned it.

“I’m too tired to eat this.”

“Me too. I only got this sandwich so I could crunch up the potato chips into crumbs.”

“Yeah?” Zoe perused the destruction on her plate. “That make you feel better?”

Mara nodded. “So you ain’t gonna eat that sandwich?”

Mara slid it toward the nurse. “No, haven’t touched it.”

“It’s starting to look good to me.”

Zoe took up the sandwich and unwrapped it from its cellophane.

For a moment, when she held it up, it seemed so strange a thing. Bread and animal, made one.

Mara was still repulsed by the idea of sustenance, but she saw the new-flamed hunger in Zoe’s eyes.

“Lord,” Zoe said. “I didn’t know how bad I needed this.”

Later, Mara plucked at her lip, her labret ring providing a simple handle. Her hand formed words with her mouth in silence. A fishlike pleading.

The night was deep and snow was burgeoning, but the room was stifling hot. Mara had removed her layers, wearing only a sleeveless tee and jeans. On her right arm was Health and on her left was Harm. Sitting across from her grandmother, she felt that she could stretch out one

hand and send her one direction or another.

“Young lady, would you feed me the word?”

Mara—startled—slapped her feet on the ground and stood. Her grandmother gazed at her with glassy eyes and a peaceful smile. “Are you hungry, gramma?” She reached for the red jello cup at the bedside table.

“No, sweetie, the word.”

The Bible was cracked and crimson with gilded pages and little tags to note where the different books began. It smelled of spices and wood. The cigarette paper was fuzzy in the middle where a thumb would touch to turn it over.

Mara read and had read her great chunks of the Bible, mostly from the Old Testament. Bushes talked, men touched gold and died, the world was covered in water. The New Testament wasn’t quite so strange, talk with some miracles thrown in to keep the reader going. Her grandmother didn’t mind what was read and didn’t notice when she changed the names.

“This is the land of which I swore to Dory, to Dilbert, and to Jimminy, ‘I will give it to your offspring.’ I have let you see it with your eyes, but you shall not go over there.”

Mara had to introduce herself

every day. Twice a day. Every time she entered the room and her grandmother was awake. I’m Mara. I’m Marilynn. I’m Bernadette. I’m the lord thy god that brought thee out of Egypt.

She would skip ahead, read backwards in the narrative, start in Jerusalem and end up in Eden. “No, gramma, Geri isn’t here,” she would have to say if she read from the Nativity account. “Neither is Eli.” She didn’t have the heart to tell her that they were too busy to come, so she told her that they were coming. Mara paused for too long, searching for something else to read. Esther was read yesterday, Ruth was on Friday. Mimi decided to speak. “How are you today?”

It was a question that Mara was used to, a question she lived between, from her boss, her roommate, her mother on the phone, the mailman on her stoop, but it was disorienting that someone on the verge of death would ask that of another. She read a Psalm instead of answering. “Thou hast ascended on high, thou hast led captivity captive: thou hast received gifts for men; yea, for the rebellious also, that the Lord God might dwell among them.” Her grandmother nodded and laid back, closing her eyes.

Her breathing was bad and

getting worse. She was hooked up to a ventilator and medicated.

Two days later, Mara was on the phone telling her father it was time to come. “It will be a matter of hours now,” the doctor had said.

“We’re coming,” her father responded.

It was an hour’s drive from the airport to Mt. Sinai Hospital. Her family would arrive by noon, Uncle Eli and his kids would be in later. Mara wept.

In the bathroom, her feet propped against the door, she held her visitor’s badge against her left forearm, the sharp plastic edge pressing into her thatched skin. She closed her eyes and imagined the thin separation, the red slit, the warm flow.

She felt the vibration of her phone in her pocket. She unfolded herself and withdrew it. “Where are you? Are you here?”

“Hey, sweetie.” It was her mother’s voice, dulled and pleasant. “We’re having trouble with the our luggage. They haven’t unloaded it from the plane yet. They’re not even sure it’s here.”

Mara shot upright. “You’re still at the airport? Why? Why? Just leave! Who cares about your luggage? Gramma’s dying!”

“I know, we’re hurrying. Just wanted to give you an update.”

“Just get in the car! You don’t know what’s happening!” Mara knelt down before the doorjamb, she cupped her hand over her mouth to breathe or not breathe, to hide her life from the phone.

“So we’ll be there soon. Gramma will be fine.”

Mara dropped the phone. Sometimes it’s for pain. She took off a brass cufflet, sharpened on one edge. Sometimes it’s for numbness. She closed her eyes and put its edge against her arm. Sometimes it’s for anxiety. She pressed it into the weak flesh. For a rift. For an aperture. Sometimes it’s for desperation. For a debt. For a ransom. Sometimes it’s for sorrow, sometimes for anger.

When she returned to her grandmother’s room, Mimi’s eyes were open and her hands were on the Bible. She had torn off a wing of paper and was trying to stuff it into her mouth. The endotracheal tube blocked her and the shred of Bible fell down her cheek. She tore another piece

and her eyes closed. She raised her hand to Mara. It wavered, so Mara caught it in both her hands.

It was as if she were being offered food. There was a ringing in her ears. Mara bent and accepted the paper with her lips. She held onto her grandmother’s hand as the room was filled with nurses. There was a bustling.

A flow of blood was dried on one arm and an angel was on the other. Mara stepped back and away from the hospital bed. The sun had brighted out the room. Mara was blinded by a scree of tears.

The world outside stalled. The blue sky paused. The winter washed trees were crooked as if to listen for the birth of wind. The stones of Mt. Sinai Hospital held the light of the noontide day as if anointed. And Miriam Mason breathed her last.

When Mara left the room, her face shined and she held a bottle of perfume in her hands. The faces of the hospital staff blessed her as she passed. She approached a dark hall where the exit was found. The red sign bathed the door in a dim chrismation of light.

Walking outside, she felt the burning on her arm and remembered her wound. Sometimes it was for purity. Mara pulled her coat tight, still smelling of wood and spices. n

Make sure you give me my Sunday perfume.

WHILE EARTH ABIDES

Like King Ahasuerus in the Book of Esther, our God likes to party. Israel’s calendar of harvest festivals was a reminder that the Gospel is not only a rescue from slavery, but also an invitation to sit at God’s table.

As we have seen in previous installments, every covenant in the Bible is a unique tour of duty, a mission with its own guidelines and intended outcomes.

Israel’s national mission was to reverse the Garden curses upon the Land in order to reconcile the World. That was the reason for the simple promises made to Abraham, and this purpose was

BULL

expounded upon in the often enigmatic complexities of the Law of Moses.

Because all of biblical history was a series of harvests—God’s continual work of plowing, planting, watering, growth, pruning, and fruitfulness (1 Corinthians 3:6-9)—Jesus and the apostles understood

MICHAEL

that God had been “raising humans” since He fashioned Adam from the ground and lifted him up into the Sanctuary as a human “firstfruits.”

Thanks to John the Baptist, they knew that after Jesus was lifted up into the Sanctuary in heaven there would be a “Pentecostal” threshing of the whole “field” of Israel that would separate the wheat from the chaff.

“His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and gather his wheat into the barn, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” (Matthew 3:12)

The apostles understood this imagery as it related to the Jews because their entire lives had been shaped by the annual harvest festivals. They knew by heart the holy texts that described their national origin and continuity as a history springing miraculously from famines and empty wombs, a series of signs of the coming promised Seed. They also knew that the “earthy” promises to Abraham were Adamic in nature and thus would ultimately bring salvation to all mankind.

Just as Adam and Eve suffered a judgment of barrenness upon the fruit of the land and the fruit of the womb, so Abraham was promised a fruitful land and a fruitful womb. However, he was

initially given a barren land and a barren womb. The fruitfulness would be obtained and maintained through patient obedience. Israel’s history would be a constant battle of faith to procure crops and offspring. Following the transgressions of the sons of Jacob, the Law of Moses made things plain: obedience would bring blessing but disobedience would bring cursing. Israel would continue to pass through seasons of humiliation and exaltation, and thus be saved through judgment.

The banishment of ungodliness from Jacob (Isaiah 59:20; Romans 11:26) via the disciplining, pruning, purifying instrument of the Law would actually enable God to keep His promises to Abraham.

This explains not only the famines and barren wombs (major themes in Genesis which are reprised most notably in the book of Ruth, and resolved at a threshing floor!) but also helps us to understand the Abrahamic

foundation for the Mosaic mediatory role that Israel fulfilled on behalf of the other nations in a physical sense. From Abraham onwards, the curse upon the land and the womb would be borne by Israel, mitigating those curses for the sake of the other nations which were consequently enabled to thrive and multiply.

The new earth

After the Great Flood, the Lord promised Noah that in this “new earth” the natural order would never be destroyed.

Then Noah built an altar to the Lord and took some of every clean animal and some of every clean bird and offered burnt offerings on the altar. And when the Lord smelled the pleasing aroma, the Lord said in his heart,“I will never again curse the ground because of man, for the intention of man's heart is evil from his youth. Neither will I ever again strike down every living creature as I have done. While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease.” (Genesis 8:20-22)

Noah’s sacrifices were whole burnt offerings, representing the whole of humanity. In Genesis 15, Abraham cut the animals in half to represent the new divide between Jew and Gentile.

But under the Law of Moses, God had instructions for every

The curse upon the land and the womb was borne by Israel.

part of the animal, giving them different purposes just as He established different offices and gifts within Israel’s national “body.” Likewise, the simple promise of global fertility to Noah was now expanded into a diverse calendar of harvest festivals. These first appear in Leviticus 23, where the list is a deliberate recap of the Creation Week. Perhaps read the chapter before continuing.

Even more interesting is that this calendar corresponds to the pattern of Conquest, something that was yet in store for Israel.

Sabbath (Genesis): DAY 1: Darkness and light Passover (Exodus): DAY 2: Waters divided Firstfruits (Leviticus): DAY 3: Dry land and fruit bearers

Pentecost (Numbers): DAY 4: Governing lights

Trumpets (Deuteronomy): Day 5: Hosts (swarms) in sky and sea

Atonement (Joshua): DAY 6: Land animals and Man

Booths (Judges): DAY 7: Rest and rule

In this way, these annual festivals not only showed that the pattern of freeing, purifying, and

gathering God’s people was already written into the harvest year, but also taught that true dominion is not “Adamic” theft but patient, faithful farming.

The calendar was also liturgical, illustrating that the purpose in God’s purification of Israel was the redemption of every nation— first the one and then the many.

Just as Noah’s physical dry land was a “new creation,” the Land of Canaan would represent all humanity (the Gentile “Sea”) as a social model of the cosmos. This would be accomplished through this sevenfold pattern.

The first feast of the seven listed is the Sabbath. You might think that this should be the last, since it occurred on the seventh day of the week. But we must remember that God works in layers, in fractals. This weekly feast set the pattern for the entire year. Every year, the weekly feast of the Jews (as a priestly “head”) would slowly grow into the yearly Sabbath for both Jews and Gentiles (as a kingly “body”)—

the Feast of Booths. Just as Adam’s “DAY 6” sin in the Garden corrupted the Land and the World, so the promised blessing upon Israel’s obedience in honoring a weekly rest would flow as a spring of blessing to heal all nations. The cycle begins with God’s rest in heaven and ends with Man’s rest on earth.

A new people

Since it aligned with the pattern of Conquest, this calendar was also a pattern of “death-andresurrection.” The first part of the sequence “created and prepared” the nation, and it would be “threshed” and “sifted” under the Law at the center of the pattern. The Law was given to Israel at the first Pentecost. The Book of Exodus itself follows this sevenfold pattern, and the giving of the Mosaic Covenant is at the “Pentecost” step of the book. Of course, Israel broke the covenant by worshiping a golden calf. At the “Atonement” step of the Exodus, the Levites answered Moses’ call and 3,000 idolaters were slain with the sword. Even worse, God said He would visit Israel again for this sin.

That brings us to the Book of Numbers as the “Pentecost” step of the greater pattern. The “Garden” sin of bowing to an image of a beast grew into the “Land” sin of refusing to take

The weekly feast set the pattern for the entire year.

Canaan, and the “World” sin of intermarriage with idolaters.

The entire “Egyptian” generation of Israel died in the wilderness, except for the two faithful spies, Joshua and Caleb, as the “two witnesses” required to condemn somebody under the Law.

Deuteronomy corresponds to “Trumpets,” and sees Moses summoning the new Israel to hear the Law. Instead of Israel being under the sword at the “Atonement” step, Joshua has Israel bearing the sword against Jericho, cutting off “all flesh.”

Judges brings a mix of success and failure, with God raising up wise rulers, corresponding to the intended roles for Adam and Eve on Day 7 of history. But Israel ultimately failed and another new beginning was required.

The Bible’s matrix

The relationship between these similar patterns is overlooked by many because in each case the pattern is “stamped” into a different “material.” Genesis 1 “stamps” it into the cosmos, Genesis 2 into humanity, and Genesis 3 into ethics. Only when we line these up and correspond their steps can see that they are all “playing the same tune.”

This idea of “stamping” relates to the origin of the word “type,” as in typewriter. The study of symbols is thus referred to as

typology—symbols as “stamped images” in a visual language.

But there is no accepted term for a sequence of types, in the way that “word” describes a sequence of letters, or “sentence” describes a sequence of words. The word “matrix” is a good choice, not only because it reminds people of a cool movie, but also because a matrix is an original shape or pattern that gives its shape to something else, like an engraved die, a parent human or animal, or a fossil’s impression in rock.

Because the Covenant, Creation, Conquest, and Feast patterns are all really the same pattern, it seemed wise to give each of the common steps a name that could tie them together, providing a term for each note in the tune shared by each sequence as a process of transformation.

In Genesis 1, Genesis-to-Judges, and the harvest calendar, the process initiated by God takes us from creation to glorification But it is also a bestowing of responsibility and authority via a

covenantal ordeal of faith. Each “Mission Impossible” begins with God’s throne and ends with Man enthroned as God’s right hand.

The seven icons help to describe the “Bible Matrix” that shapes all that God says and does.

TRANSCENDENCE

Creation: The Spirit initiates a new act of God.

HIERARCHY

Division: God sets apart a mediator between heaven and earth.

ETHICS: PRIEST

Ascension: The servant is given instructions…

ETHICS: KING

Testing: …and must obey the Word and rule over sin.

ETHICS: PROPHET

Maturity: Obedience or disobedience multiplies in its outcome.

OATH/SANCTIONS

Conquest: God blesses the “overcomers” and cuts off the disobedient.

SUCCESSION

Glorification: The faithful become God’s heirs and rule with Him over the world.

In the next Theology Accelerator we will see how this pattern shapes all of God’s temples, including the human body. n

The “Bible Matrix” shapes all that God says and does.

CULTURE BAAL’S STIMULUS PACKAGE

The “new thing” is to speak of “the Universe” as if it were a conscious, gift-giving entity.

One of the most brutal books in the Old Testament contains the key to understanding this strange trend.

Theologian James B. Jordan’s observations on Baalism in the ancient world help us to understand where Western culture went off the rails. It explains why we think murdering the unborn, printing money, gender operations, genetic modification,and “green” energy can save humanity and the planet, and why things seem to be falling apart despite our best efforts. The answer is that the heart of modernism is the same as ancient paganism—like Adam, we insist on seizing all of the wonderful things that God promised us if we would only submit to Him.

We often distance our culture from that of the Canaanites, thinking that since modern man does not literally bow down to idols, he must be somewhat better off. But how often does a Christian ever literally bow down to his God? How many churches actually have kneelers? Do we show our respect for the King of kings by at least standing for prayer, or do we pray sitting down, a posture for prayer that is not found in the Bible?

If we modern Christians have no more respect for our God than to address Him sitting down, why should we expect the modern Baalists to bow down to Nature?

Ancient man bowed before his god, whether it was Nature (Baalism) or the Creator (the Lord). Modern man does not bow before his god, whether Nature (humanism) or the Creator (Christ).

JAMES B. JORDAN

Adapted from his book, Judges: God’s War Against Humanism

Similarly, for ancient man, the heart of religious exercise was adoration, worship, bowing, and sacrament (a fellowship meal with the god). This was true of Israel before the Lord, and also of

the Canaanites before Baal. And this is also the biblical view of worship: the proclamation of the Word of God leads to a response of adoration, bowing, and the fellowship meal.

The modern Christian, however, sees the heart of worship as either entertainment (from a choir and a pleasing preacher) or as philosophical meditation (from a scholarly preacher). In both cases, instead of leading into worship, the sermon has now become the main point. And, just as the modern Christian view of worship is not much more than studying our beliefs, so the modem humanist worships his god in the same way. We don’t see humanists bowing down to their gods, but we do see them studying them, lecturing about them, and writing books about them. And we don’t see Christians bowing down to the Lord either, but we do see them studying Him, preaching about Him, and writing books about Him. Thus, there is indeed a big difference between ancient religions and modern ones. Ancient man primarily worshiped his gods, while modem man primarily studies his. This is true both of pagans and of conservative Christians. However, despite this shift in focus, the opposition between

the Truth and the Lie is the same now as it was then. Ancient pagans worshiped Nature, and modem pagans philosophize about Nature, but their belief is the same: the belief that Nature is self-creating.

Similarly, ancient believers worshiped the Creator, while modern Christians tend mainly to philosophize about Him, but our belief is the same.

So, what was Baalism? In essence it assigned divine power to

the animals and man resulted. How does such a myth differ from a more sophisticated expression of the same principle, such as can be found in any 20th century high school science textbook? Baalism is evolution, the belief that Nature was the author of all life.

Once, we are told, there was a vast primordial sea. Then one day, sparked by sunlight, an organic molecule appeared, which evolved to become our present world. A “male” principle, sunlight, inseminates a “female” principle, the primordial sea, and life is born.

Both Judaism and the Baal-Ashteroth religion were concerned with fertility.

Nature, believing that the universe has within itself the force of life. The world as we know it is the result of the union of the ultimate male and female principles of the universe, which were called Baal and Ashteroth.

Canaanite philosophers believed, of course, that these ultimate forces were impersonal, and that their union was not sexual; but the common people preferred to think of the matter mythically. The sun god copulated with the original mud of the world, and

The Creator God of the Bible promised fertility to Israel if they were faithful to Him (Deuteronomy 7:13-14) on the condition of moral loyalty, especially sexual chastity (monogamy).

In contrast, the religion of Baalism advocated exactly the opposite method of getting fertility. Chaotic sexual orgies would stimulate Nature (Baal and Ashteroth), and fertile humans, animals, and land would be the result.

The core difference between the Bible and Baal is the source of that fertility. The true religion of Israel said that fertility was

Christian faith is a religion primarily of submission, not of stimulation.

obtained by submitting to the Creator, while Baalism said that fertility was obtained by stimulating Nature. Thus, in true religion, man is the servant of God, in submission to Him; while in Baalism, man is the master of his god (Nature) who needs to be stimulated by him.

Nature religion is a religion of stimulation. Man has to stimulate Nature in order to get results. Like the Baal priests of the ancient world, he may engage in sexual orgies, or cut himself with knives (1 Kings 18:28), in order to arouse the sleeping god.

This is also the philosophy of the modern world. Stimulating nature via technology is not seen simply as a form of dominion, such as that commanded by God. It is also seen as a way of salvation. Modern scientists believe they will solve the problem of disease by learning how to control nature. Modern philosophers believe that controling nature enables man to control evolution and advance humanity. Modern revolutionaries from Marx to Marcuse believe that simply stimulating society through the imposition of social chaos will automatically lead to a better world.

For the Christian, however, the problems of disease and social inequities are solved by submission to God and His law. Medicine is not wrong, but it can only help a little bit. Disease will not go away until God is pleased with humanity (Deuteronomy 7:15). The same is true for the other areas.

The heart of ancient Baalism was the same as modern secular humanism. The “secular” part is that the universe is self-creating, so that Nature, not God, is ultimate. The “humanism” part is that man, not God, is the master of Nature, and must stimulate it to produce and improve life.

The Christian faith is a religion primarily of submission, not of stimulation, and this also applies to our worship. For the Christian to get himself all worked up in church avails absolutely nothing in the sight of God.

However, for the ancient Baalist to bow before his idol was not an act of submission, but an act of stimulation. What he believed was the same thing

modern secular humanists believe: that man is lord over Nature, and that there is no Creator God to whom man is responsible.

Baal means “lord, husband,” and the temptation to Baalism is nothing more nor less than spiritual adultery. The sin of Israel consisted in substituting the false marriage of Baal and Asherah for the true marriage of the Lord with His people. Secular humanism is thus the Baalism of the modern world. n

Copyright disclaimer for any cited copyright artworks, images and text: Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favor of fair use.

contributors this issue

Michael Bull is a graphic designer and author who lives in the Blue Mountains west of Sydney, Australia. His passion is understanding and teaching the Bible.

Kennedy Barukh is a pastor in Eldoret, a fast-growing town in the Rift Valley region of Kenya, where he lives with his wife and son.

Remy Wilkins teaches at Geneva Academy in Monroe, Louisiana, USA and he writes at home where his wife paints and his five boys raise a ruckus.

James B. Jordan is scholar in residence at Theopolis Institute (Birmingham, Alabama) and founder of Biblical Horizons.

write for theo

Contact us for the Writer’s Guide editorial@theo-magazine.com