Thursday, December 9, 2010

A Critical Review of N. T. Wright’s Article “How Can the Bible Be Authoritative?"

In order to understand what N. T. Wright says in his article How Can The Bible Be Authoritative?, everything he says, unless explicitly disjointed by Wright himself, must be read in light of the aims that he sets forth in the beginning. First, Wright proposes that he will set forth a correct understanding of what it means for the Bible to be authoritative by means of a differential analysis of the common evangelical view and his own. Second, he burdens himself with the explanation of how that authority is relevant and effective for the church and therefore the world.

The first major problem Wright addresses is the narrative format in which the majority of the Bible was written and challenges what he sees as the common protestant practice of reading a biblical narrative and transposing that into a creed, rule, or whatever else might fall into the category that he calls “timeless truth.”[1] He says that using the Bible for the purpose of attaining these higher unchangeable truths is to deal with truth, which does not, as he puts it, have “anything to do with space-time reality.”[2] His critique of a theology that classifies itself as “timeless” is justified, but its relevance to his critique of evangelicalism may be less so, as Bruce Demarest writes for the Evangelical Dictionary of Theology, “Some mistakenly view systematic theology as a deposit of divine truths that is timeless.”[3] (Emphasis added)

Wright’s misunderstanding of how the Bible relates to contemporary Christian theology is clearly seen in his critique thereof. He unwarrantedly caricatures truths that are pervasive throughout all of time as truths that are completely unrelated thereto. He offers a paradigm that relies on a false dichotomy between narrative portions of scripture and the immutability of God’s nature in his attributes. It is just as plausible, and even more so if we as Christians are going to be consistent within our worldview, that a God who wants to reveal his unchanging attributes to the world tells his people about himself through interaction and self-revelation as the narrative formula Wright proposes. To restrict a theologian from understanding God in his own culturally conditioned categories is just as presuppositionally conditioned as Wright accuses evangelicals of being.[4] Furthermore, Wright further does recognize is that theological formulae of narrative and proposition have always been simultaneously contemporaneous from the beginning of Christian history, as Irenaeus and Justin Martyr display, respectively.[5]

Wright then seeks to redefine what “authority” means in the term “biblical authority” to fit his understanding of the relationship between the scriptural narrative and theology. He says that the Bible gets its authority from God, and presents his point by means of a metaphor of a five act Shakespearean play missing its last act. This presents a scenario for actors to familiarize themselves with the roles in the first four acts and, as best as they can, improvise in the last act. This metaphor is hardly worth analysis since it, seemingly in Wright’s mind, is, again, based on a false understanding of theology, for he says, “That is how God brought his theology to bear on Israel: not by revealing timeless truths, but by delegating his authority to obedient men through whose words he brought judgment and salvation to Israel and the world.” (Emphasis added)

Wright attempts to offer some exegetical insight to support his thesis, but it can hardly be taken seriously, because in the beginning of his article, he says, “One might even say, in one (admittedly limited) sense, that there is not a biblical doctrine of the authority of the Bible,”[6] and later says, “There, then, is perhaps a more complex model of biblical authority…I believe it is a view which is substantially compatible with the Bible’s own view.”[7] Although he puts disclaimers on both of these statements, his presupposition concerning what the Bible has to say about its own authority remains ambiguous, and his methodology therefore indeterminable.

Wright’s main thesis in the second half of his article is that we as the people of God should immerse ourselves in the story of God instead of using it as the world would use it to oppress, control, or categorize. He articulates this with the metaphor of the note played on the piano, which has a fundamental note and harmonic overtones, neither of which should be privileged over the other. The implication is that some people only want to hear the fundamental note like historical critical scholars, and some pietists only want to understand how it is applicable for today. He again offers his narrative drama as a means of fully engaging the two ends of the spectrum, but does not support his hermeneutical paradigm with anything other than rich metaphors and cheap rhetoric. So I must critique him again by saying that his paradigm is for no reason more plausible than, when understood correctly, evangelical systematic theology is for understanding who God is and who we are as his people through his word. His evidence simply is not there.

Two things should be said in conclusion. Throughout this article, Wright is not virtuous in his presentation of evangelicalism. He talks about rabid fundamentalists waving Bibles around and evangelicals accusing God of giving them the wrong kind of book. He cites no authors, theologians, scholars, or pastors to construct his false animation of what evangelicalism does or looks like. Secondly, Wright does bring to light an important question in the world of biblical scholarship, being: How can a collection of narratives with 2-3000 year old historical referents be used to support any kind of theological indicative or imperative statement today? I believe he partially answers that question, but more importantly, I believe that he ultimately does answer the two original questions he set out asking, namely, “What does it mean that the Bible is authoritative?” and “How can we participate in that story?”

For those struggling with the concept of the authority of Scripture or interested in gaining a deeper understanding of the Reformed position, I have posted the first section of Richard Gaffin’s Book God’s Word in Servant Form in which he outlines the deeper bibliological themes of Abraham Kuyper’s view on Scripture, and therein explains how the Bible is propositionally authoritative (even on itself) and narratively redemptive.

Wright’s article can be found here:
http://www.ntwrightpage.com/Wright_Bible_Authoritative.htm

Gaffin’s article can be found here:
http://greekexegesis.files.wordpress.com/2010/12/20gaffin_godswordinservantform1.pdf

[1] N. T. Wright, “How Can The Bible Be Authoritative?” (accessed February 7, 2009): available from http://www.ntwrightpage.com/Wright_Bible_Authoritative.htm

[2] Ibid.

[3] Bruce Demarest, “Systematic Theology”

[4] What Wright embarrassingly does not acknowledge is the historical fact that the contemporary anti-propositional “Narrative Theology” movement is a product of the failed Biblical Theology movement of the 1960s, not a neo-Hebraism. For further study, consult Why Narrative? Readings in Narrative Theology ed. Stanley Hauerwas and L. Gregory Jones, (Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 1997).

[5] Bryan Litfin, Getting to Know the Church Fathers, (Grand Rapids: Brazos, 2007), 10. Also displayed in the multigeneric nature of the Johannine corpus.

[6] Wright, Authoritative.

[7] Ibid.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

The Grace of Enmity

It is a human thing to feel the pain of sin as pain. It is a Christianly, and therefore fully, human thing to feel the pain of sin as sin. As a transgression against a holy God. As a grievous gallivant for our own glory. And as much as this quality of pain seems to singularly wrench tight the valves of grace, the inverse remains true. It is by the graceful direct ordinance of God himself that any man sees beyond momentary sensual consequences of his own sin into the canyon of the reality of depravity.

Genesis 3 is a hermeneutical playground for many a hermeneutist, historian, and theologian alike. Furthermore, even within Genesis 3, the curses distributed to the man and to the woman are often cited far more than the curse given to the serpent. Before the promissory element of the proto evangelium kicks in, Genesis 3:15a provides valuable theological insight into God’s initiative and responsibility for the wellbeing of his people. God says to the serpent, “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring.” (3:15a)

The first observation Geerhardus Vos makes about this text is that “The divine initiative [is] in the work of deliverance. The emphasis rests on the pronoun: God says ‘I will put enmity’. Here is not primarily an appeal to man but a divine promise. Nor does God merely instigate or promote enmity. He sovereignly puts it.”[1] God inspires Moses to write very explicitly on this point, that in response to the soiling of the image of God by the serpent, his first act of business is not to promise the end of the serpent, but to begin his redemption of the woman. If it were not for the sovereignty of God over the will of the woman, the text of Genesis thus far implies that the woman would have been given over to sin and the serpent completely. This is the strength of the proto evangelium! It marks the first redemptive-historical work against sin out of which the rest of the Old Testament flows and flowers into a strong messianic expectation.

Jesus declares his own perfect fulfillment of this theme in John 8:34-59, where he subverts the Jews’ appeal to an Abrahamic genealogy by revealing a determinative preceding genealogy, namely, a Satanic one. Here again, in a distant epoch of redemptive-history, the seed of the woman and the seed of the serpent stand before one another. Jesus, as YHWH, recapitulates and affirms the climax and fulfillment of all that God had said in Genesis 1-3. He condemns the serpent and fulfills the enmity (Jn. 8:44; Gn. 3:15). He explicates the lying nature of Satan, and vindicates God’s words about the death of sin (Jn. 8:44; Gn. 2:17). And finally, he subverts the effects of sin by declaring to be the source of death-cancelling-life (Jn. 8:51; Gn. 3:19), converse to Adam's life-cancelling-death.

Many Old Testament scholars and liberal theologians look scoldingly on ancient eisegetical allegoricisms and christologisms imposed on the Old Testament by "evangelicals" (usually defined by its patronizer, for purely objective scholarly motives, no doubt), and so this “evangelium” language is for the most part seen as archaic and inutile for proper exegesis. It is quite obvious, however, how pervasively governing the theme of redemptive-history is, from Genesis 1 to Genesis 3:15a to John 8:34-49 to Revelation 21. There is not simply an eschatological promise of a redeemer who will exhaustively engage the problem of evil (although that is present), but an immanent and immediate act of redemption by God himself, as he steps in and protects Eve the way Adam should have in the first place. And the point of this focus on Genesis 3:15a is that from the very beginning, it is God who creates the enmity. It is God who says, “I will rescue my bride” (Eph. 5:25-26). It is God who stiff-arms the murderous malice of Satan and puts a hatred for evil in the heart of Eve and her seed. Even though Eve disobeyed and should, for all intents and purposes, have been given over to the lust of the flesh and condemned, she was still granted a righteous hatred for sin. Regardless of her flagrant disobedience, God still gave Eve a capacity to discern holiness.

The same is true for myself. Each day I gratify the desires of the flesh. Every moment my heart longs for the death and pleasure of disobedience. Yet because of the enmity which YHWH sovereignly "puts" in me, I have the ministry of sapiental provision. And by the blood of Christ, which was foreshadowed by the blood of the animal that God killed to cover Adam and Eve's nakedness, I can identify the righteousness of godly sorrow as an extension and fulfillment of Genesis 3:15a. I, with Adam and Eve, am not defined by the self-centered embarrassment of the naked and distorted image of God, but am defined by the perfect image of God as displayed in the second Adam (2 Cor. 4:4). Even in the darkest and most depraved moments of my Christian life when Satan seems to have won another soul with his craftiness, my conscience sanctifies me (1 Peter 3:16,21), and my sorrow identifies me with the glory of Christ (2 Cor. 5:2-4).



[1] Geerhardus Vos, Biblical Theology, (Edinburgh: The Banner of Truth, 1975), 42.

Monday, July 26, 2010

A Biblical Theology of Prostitution: The Condemnation of the "Righteous" through the Unrighteous

In order to properly understand the theme of prostitution in the story of scripture, one must first have a biblical understanding of sexuality, and therefore marriage. In Genesis 2:24, Adam indicatively states that marriage is a man’s reprioritization of his relationships in favor of his wife and by metonymy of sexual union, their oneness of flesh.[1] The semantic categories of two available words for prostitution in the Hebrew language allow for a differential definition of prostitution here. véd∂q is used to identify a temple prostitute who has sex with worshippers and exists as an object of liturgy, whereas hÎnÎz is used to identify any woman who has sex outside of marriage.[2] Although there is confusion and overlap between these two words in some of the major relevant passages (Tamar makes herself hÎnÎz, but is confused as véd∂q, and Jewish men use véd∂q, but are themselves called hÎnÎz in Hosea), a focus on hÎnÎz will be preferred. For the purpose of this paper, namely, to identify and explain how a theme that recurs in the Bible relates to the entire scriptural narrative, prostitution will be defined as the utilization of one’s ability to provide sexual union for purposes other than marital participation.

Genesis 38 is an example of this kind of prostitution. In a proper evaluation of this text, it would be inappropriate to assume any kind of Levitical or Deuteronomic understanding by the characters because of the historical setting and a proper understanding of progressive revelation. This is an isolated narrative within the larger story of Joseph, describing Judah’s interaction with his daughter-in-law Tamar, whom he had found and given as a wife for his firstborn son Er (v. 6). God killed Er for his textually ambiguous wickedness (v. 7) as well as his brother Onan for his unfaithfulness to his responsibility to impregnate Tamar so that she could provide children in Er’s name (v. 10). Because of this, Judah was responsible to provide Tamar with Shelah as a husband when he was of age, but due to the death of his own wife (v. 12), he never did (v. 14). Tamar then dressed as a prostitute and anonymously seduced Judah to sleep with her in order that she might have a child (v. 15-16). As a pledge that he would pay her a sheep for her prostitution, she demanded that he gives her his seal, an engraved stone, which was, as Kenneth A. Matthews paraphrases, Tamar “shrewdly requesting the undeniable evidence of Judah’s identity.”[3] (v. 18)

Three months later, her pregnancy became obvious, and because she was still technically pledged to marry Shelah, she was declared guilty of prostitution by the town elders and was ordered by Judah himself to be burned. This was an extreme response, even for a case of prostitution, for in the Code of Hammurapi, burning is only called for in cases of extreme religious or sexual transgression such as desecration or rape.[4] Her response to Judah was by means of revealing his seal to him (v. 25), which acted as an imperative to mentally recapitulate the entire prostitution narrative with himself as the one who had committed the greatest sin against his family, namely, sleeping with his daughter-in-law as an adulterous act against his own son. He then declares her more righteous than himself because of his reluctance to give her his son (v. 26). Gordan Wenham notes that the only cause for such a response and justificatory indicative was her concern to “perpetuate the family line, to produce descendants for Abraham.”[5] The point of this narrative is that this sinful prostitute who was declared worthy of being burned to death for her unfaithfulness was more righteous than the Jew who would be the forefather of the most powerful tribe in Israel, the forefather of David, and the forefather of Christ. Despite the obvious divine abhorrence of the act of prostitution, it is through this abhorrent act that a self-righteous Jewish man is shamed and declared unrighteous because of his actions and the line of the son of Jacob with the birth right is perpetuated. This narrative ends with a prostitute being declared righteous and a noble Jew condemning himself.

A second significant narrative in scripture that furthers the theme of prostitution begins in Joshua 2:1-21 and ends in 6:25. In this passage, we can appropriately assume a working knowledge of Levitical anti-prostitutional laws (such as ch. 18 forbidding all forms of sexual union outside of marriage, and ch. 21 creating a strong social divide between the priestly line and prostitutes for the sake of cultic purity) among the Israelites. This passage contains the narrative of Rahab’s interaction with the Israelite spies. To first help understand the purpose of Israel’s espionage, Trent C. Butler comments, “God used human spies. Why? The obvious answer would be that the spies should help develop military strategy. That is not the case…Rather, the biblical spies convince Israel that God can and will give the land to Israel.”[6]

Because of Rahab’s reputation as a prostitute, it would not have been conspicuous for two men to enter her house because of her profession.[7] Because she feared God due to his redemptive act in Egypt, she made a deal with the spies to hide them from the king in return for the sparing of the lives of her and her family when Israel conquered Jericho, which required her dsx (“covenant faithfulness”) to keep her family inside of her house. Rahab acted with a concern for the people of God and was therefore vindicated and justified into the people of God in the end. This is implicit in text of 6:25, for it states that she continued to live with them when the text was written, and it is explicit in Joshua and the author’s redundant declaration that Rahab and her family were not to be harmed (6:17, 22-23). One has textual warrant to assume that if it were not for Rahab’s act of faith, her condemnation would have been death by Israel’s sword (v. 21).

However, simply because this particular sub-narrative is concluded, the role of our theme should not be thought to have solidified quite yet, as it is braced thematically with chapter 7, the subsequent narrative. Directly after this story, the character named Achan is introduced. He fought for Israel, was married, had children, and possessed valuable livestock, all of which contributed to his honor and communal respect (v. 24). At Jericho, although he was commanded to devote all things to the Lord (6:18), he coveted and took things for himself (7:1), which resulted in the death of Israelite men, but more importantly the destruction of Israel’s morale (v. 5). As a result, Achan was stoned and burned (v. 25). This narrative functions juxtapositionally with the story of Rahab through its thematically parallelistic inversion. It is through the righteousness of Rahab’s concern for the victory of the people of God that the unrighteousness of Achan’s responsibility for their defeat at Ai is magnified. It is through the risk that Rahab took hiding the Israelite spies in her house that Achan’s risk of hiding the things he stole from the Lord in his tent is seen clearly. It is through a gentile prostitute’s salvation that a circumcised Jew’s condemnation is truly understood.

A third Old Testament passage that advances this theme of prostitution is Hosea 1:1-3. God calls Hosea to marry a prostitute as a prophetic speech-act, its illocutionary force being the explicit labeling of Israel as a prostitute, for God says, “land is guilty of the vilest prostitution in departing from the LORD.” (v. 2). The word used here is again hÎnÎz, meaning, very simply, fornication. Duane Garrett suggests that this book may be a Toranic/historical-theology of prostitution, because its imagery is very similar to passages in Exodus (34:15-16), Leviticus (17:7; 20:6), Numbers (15:39), and Deuteronomy (31:16), all of which exhort Israel not to commit idolatry via the metaphor of prostitution, the parallel being God’s covenant with Israel and a man’s covenant with his wife.[8] Unfortunately, King Ahaz, to whom Hosea ministers (1:1), sacrificed his own son to a false god, set up altars and burnt incense to false gods, and relied on the Assyrians for political aid, all of which defied the aforementioned verses. Hosea, through his prophetic marriage to the prostitute Gomer, revealed the whorish nature of the actions of the kingdom of Israel in regards to their covenant with God.

John 8:1-11 introduces the furtherance of this particular theme of prostitution in the story of scripture in the New Testament. The only in-text reference worthy to be made concerning the integrity of John 8:1-11 as an original Johannine manuscript is this: due to its grammatical and textual attributes, there is a consensus among biblical scholarship that this passage is non-Johannine, but as Merrill C. Tenney points out, “To say that it does not belong to the gospel is not identical with rejecting it as unhistorical…It may be accepted as historical truth.”[9]

This pericope begins with Jesus in the temple about to teach when the Pharisees bring an adulteress before him and ask him how they should respond to the Mosaic imperative to stone such a woman. The greek word used here is not po/rnh, the normal greek word used for a woman who sells sex for money, but rather moiceia, which strictly refers to the act of a married woman having sex with another man. Fortunately for exegetes and the development of the theme at hand, the law under which the Pharisees are condemning this woman remains bound by the semantic categories set forth to define prostitution in the beginning of this paper. This woman, although she may be accused of moiceia in the text, is really being accused of hÎnÎz in the context of the temple court.

N. T. Wright notes in his study of 2nd Temple Judaism that “sinners” were seen as second-class citizens on a national scale, second-class Jews on a cultic scale, and second-class humans on an eternal scale.[10] This harsh personal categorization was a product of intra-Judaio-cultic conflict between the Qumran community, Pharisees, Sadducees, and other small Jewish movements, each of them fighting for the right to theo-national exclusivity.[11] Although the value of communal purity can be traced back to Genesis, this type of ethical cleansing was a product of a self-righteous pursuit of a community that would stimulate the coming of their messiah-king who would rescue whichever group was in the right.[12]

This woman was a victim of this self-righteousness as a prostitute in her specific cultural system, which therefore naturally prompted the Pharisees to bring her to be judged in the temple. What is significant is that Jesus’ response to the Pharisees’ accusation interrogatively points out the second-classness of the Jews themselves (v. 7), rendering them unable to execute the terminal judgment.[13] Their very own sin as Pharisees was necessarily self-deceptively dualistic in that their accusation of the woman was a condemnation of their later self-admitted hypocrisy as well as their ultimate motivation, which was their intent to create an accusation against the Son of God himself, for v. 6 says, “They were testing him so that they might have grounds for accusing him.” Through this woman’s prostitution, their own prostitution was made vividly clear. Through their demand for divine condemnation to fall upon this prostitute, God himself condemned them. Through a prostitute’s sin that was sufficient to make her no better than a gentile in the eyes of the Pharisees, their Jewish heritage and so-called “obedience” was revealed to be an inutile and indeed false righteousness.

The conclusion of this narrative fragment explicitly perpetuates a biblical theology of prostitution through the prostitute’s redemption. Jesus says, “Woman, where are they? Did no one condemn you?” (v. 10). His vocative address with the word gunh is a primary restoration of personal dignity, as she would have been, because of her sin, addressed as pornh or kuwn, meaning whore or dog respectively.[14] To her confession that no one has condemned her, he invites her to participate in the true covenant community with his imperative statement, “Go and sin no more.” (v. 11).[15]

The final passage that carries this biblical theology of prostitution to its climax is Revelation 17:1-6. John sees the prostitute of Babylon as drunk on the blood of the saints. There is speculation as to who the historical referent of this prostitute actually is. Some, like Grant R. Osborne, believe that she represents Rome because of the parallel between the Babylonian captivity that initiated the second spiritual exodus under which Israel still believed herself to be under and the captivity-type submission they owed to the Roman government, who ruled the land of Israel.[16] A better parallel that would seem to be more consistent with 2nd temple Judaism, a context which must be taken into account if one is to attain a correct understanding of the eschatology of a 1st century Jewish cult, is to see Babylon as the one who persecuted the righteous remnant, which would therefore make the prostitute in Revelation whoever the main persecutor of the church was at John’s time, namely, the Jewish people. This interpretative paradigm of persecution works better than that of governing authority, because (1) John’s intention was to encourage those who were being persecuted, (2) the main persecutor at the time of John’s authorship in his realm of influence was still Jerusalem, although Rome was on the rise, (3) despite the fact that governmental authority was valuable to the Jews, even more valuable was their right and ability to exclusively worship God according to the Torah, which is revealed in the Maccabean and pseudo-Isaianic narratives, and (4) v. 5 borrows specific maternal-prostitution language from Hosea. The prostitute of Babylon has “Mother of Prostitutes” written on her forehead, and God calls to Israel, “Contend with your mother…let her put prostitution from her face.” (1:2), and “For the men themselves go apart with prostitutes…Though you, Israel, play the prostitute.” (4:14b, 15a).

An insistence upon this parallel demands that further lines be drawn here. In v. 4, we learn that “The woman was clothed with purple and scarlet” not unlike the royal robe that Achan hid in his tent, that she was “adorned with…precious stones” not unlike the stone seal that Judah gave to Tamar, and that she holds “in her hand a gold cup full of…the blood of the saints,” not unlike the third cup of the Passover representing the blood of the lamb which the Jews condemning the unnamed prostitute drank every year. Again the Jews persecute the righteous, and in so doing, explicitly wage of war against the climactic redemptive testimony of their very God through their prostitution to their own self-righteousness, and are therefore condemned. It is through the prostitution of the harlot of Babylon that the Jewish people are finally condemned, and the true people of God finally purified through martyrdom. God uses this disgraceful age-old sin to shame, condemn, justify, and glorify throughout the scriptural narrative, contributing to all major aspects of our salvific identity.

Some scholars, such as Raymond Ortlun, believe that we as the church should identify with the prostitute metaphor throughout scripture because of the sinful nature of humanity,[17] but this is inappropriate and indeed unbiblical application for the church. It is through a biblical theology of prostitution that the unfaithfulness of Israel is shown, but it is through a biblical theology of marriage, upon which a biblical theology of prostitution is founded, that the church is properly understood. The church is the bride of Christ (Eph. 5), and whose hope for purity, as John sees it in Revelation 17, is through her unwavering faithfulness to the new covenant in martyrdom and persecution.



[1] Raymond C. Ortlun Jr., Whoredom (ed. D. A. Carson; NSBT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996), 15.

[2] William Gesenius, A Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament (ed. and trans. Edward Robinson; 2nd ed.; London: Oxford, 1954), 275.

[3] Kenneth A. Matthews, Genesis 11:27-50:26 (ed. Linda L. Scott; NAC 1B; Nashville, Broadman and Holman, 2005), 720.

[4] Ibid., 723.

[5] Gordon J. Wenham, Genesis 16-50 (Ed. David A. Hubbard and Glenn W. Barker, Dallas: Word, 1994), 370.

[6] Trent C. Butler, Joshua (ed. David A. Hubbard and Glenn W. Barker; Word Biblical Commentary 7; Waco, Word Books, 1983), 35.

[7] Ibid., 31.

[8] Duane A. Garrett, Hosea, Joel (ed. Linda L. Scott; NAC 19A,Nashville, Broadman and Holman, 1997), 52.

[9] Merrill C. Tenney, John (ed. Frank E. Gaeblin; The Expositor’s Bible Commentary 9; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1981), 89.

[10] N. T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996), 264.

[11] Ibid., 266.

[12] Ibid., 260.

[13] Robert A. J. Gagnon, “Sexuality,” in Dictionary for the Theological Interpretation of the Bible (ed. Kevin J. Vanhoozer, et al; Grand Rapids: Baker, 2005), 743.

[14] Homer A. Kent Jr., Philippians (ed. Frank E. Gaeblin; The Expositor’s Bible Commentary 11; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1981), 138.

[15] Wright, Jesus, 274.

[16] Grant R. Osborne, Revelation (ed. Moises Silva; BECNT; Grand Rapids: Baker, 2002), 609.

[17] Ortlun, Whoredom, 35.

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Dust and Breath

God,

I am a prideful fool. I desire to be seen by men. My prayers are catered toward eloquence and enviable articulacy. I am self-centered and selfish. The governing narrative in my own consciousness is that which is constituted by my own consciousness and no more. It began with dust and will end with dust. Such is the dusty world I live in which you created. But dust was not made after the fall. Man was made from the earth as a part of your morally perfect will. I am a God-ordained accumulation of dust. Accumulated by your will and for your glory. These muscles are dust. This mind is dust. Even these thoughts are dust (Not so for their referents and antecedents, but the thoughts are dust just the same). And so, sitting here in this existence of dust, there is only one thing which saves me from a meaningless existence. There is only one thing which prevents me from being consumed by the muddy moisture of anti-theism and self-exaltation which fertilizes the earth of this world. It is my second constituent part. Breath. The breath of God is in me. Your breath is in me.

This is my confession: I can’t see past the dust. All I see is earth. I look in the mirror and see a suffocating corpse. Breathing, yet breathless. Help me to feel your breath again. Let my lungs inhale to your exhale. Let my heart beat with your blood. And let my dust not be the dust of animals or grass or mud (as the materialist sees it), but of you. Dust like you. Dust in your image. And so as a desperate compound of dust and breath, I cannot seem to find a balance. I want to be with your Spirit perfectly and dust-free! Or my dust prohibits me from even acknowledging my dualistic constituency.

I must now realize that it is not I who decides my constitution. It was you who decided when you made Adam. And in making Adam in your omniscience and sovereignty, so also you made me. And so I am, because of your eternal presence, eternally present with you in Genesis 1. But that is where my story ends. I do not proceed into Genesis 3:6. I do not eat the fruit. I do not inherit the curse. Day after seemingly godless day, I believe the lie and seek after a selfish and (self-deceivingly unbeknownst to me) pejorative knowledge of good and evil. But I do not inherit eternal damnation. Rather, my story finds its continuation in Romans 5. In Adam first for death, and in you second for life, who became dust to redeem dust.

So I pray, oh Christ, fully dust and fully breath: help me to be dust as you are dust, and to breathe your breath. For my lungs gasp for your breath at all times. Therefore, help my desperation for you not cause me to foolishly and immaturely inhale dust, but rather, help me to truly realize in my own life and heart that the efficaciously immanent cadence of your inhalation guards my dust and steadies my breath through my union to you, Christ Jesus.

Amen.

Friday, June 18, 2010

Exegesis of Titus

The beginning of our exegesis of the NA27 Titus

http://greekexegesis.wordpress.com/2010/06/02/titus-11-paul-maxwell/