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Review of Gorman’s Apostle of the Crucified Lord

Michael J. Gorman, Apostle of the Crucified Lord: A Theological Introduction to Paul and His Letters, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004. 618pp. $39.00, paper.

Published in The Southwestern Journal of Theology 46.3 (2004), 97-99

Michael Gorman teaches New Testament at St. Mary’s Seminary and University in Baltimore, Maryland, where he is also dean of the Ecumenical Institute of Theology. He has produced a textbook that is a cross between a Pauline theology and an introduction to Paul’s life and letters. The format of the book is attractive and user-friendly, and Gorman’s writing style is both engaging and fresh. The text is accompanied by relevant maps of Paul’s journeys and the cities in which he ministered, and each chapter is concluded with questions for reflection and an annotated bibliography pointing students to related reading for further study. Of special note also are some helpful photographs in the book, such as the one of an ancient letter written on papyrus, which is rolled and sealed for delivery (80).

The first six chapters introduce the reader to Paul’s context and ideas, followed by a chapter on each of Paul’s thirteen letters. The first chapter on the Greco-Roman context of Paul’s mission includes informative summaries of Paul’s Jewish contemporaries and the issues generated by the “new perspective.” Especially helpful is Gorman’s discussion of the light shed on Paul’s context by the Roman Imperial Cult. This first chapter is followed by chapters on Paul’s mission, his letters and what they were intended to do, his gospel, his spirituality, and his theology. The chapters on the thirteen letters situate the documents in Paul’s life, introduce major themes, and then briefly summarize the message of the letter’s major sections.

Gorman makes productive use of recent scholarship on Paul, providing helpful overviews of major topics. For this reason, this book will be useful to scholars who are not Pauline specialists but nevertheless have occasion to teach on Paul in introductory surveys of the New Testament.

Several aspects of the volume, however, make it unfit for use in evangelical classrooms. This includes an acceptance of pseudonymous authorship of Paul’s first letter to Timothy and his letter to Titus. Gorman’s discussion of these issues does not deal with the early church’s rejection of pseudonymous writings, glosses over the ethical problem of a Christian author deliberately deceiving his intended readers, and concludes that whoever wrote these documents was so good at imitating Paul that he fooled everyone for 1800 years, and yet he was such a bumblehead that modern scholars easily detect his hand.

Gorman also tends to invite disagreement with the Bible on the gender issue. Clear and compelling explanations of the disputed texts—1 Corinthians 11 and 14, 1 Timothy 2—are available in such volumes as Recovering Biblical Manhood and Womanhood and Evangelical Feminism and Biblical Truth. When Gorman comes to 1 Corinthians 11, Paul’s words are labelled “confusing remarks” (265), and 1 Corinthians 14:33–35 is “another confusing text” (276). The interpretation of these texts is difficult, to be sure, but they can be coherently interpreted if we are willing to let Paul speak. The issue is exacerbated in the discussion of 1 Timothy, where it is tacitly assumed that the “patriarchy many find in the text” needs to be blunted, if it is really there at all (560, cf. 551). The fourth question for reflection at the end of this chapter then treats the rejection of the Bible’s teaching as a live option when students are invited to consider, “Which aspects of 1 Timothy’s ministerial charge to Timothy should be (a) appropriated, (b) modified, or (c) rejected today?” (570). Those for whom the Bible is authoritative do not reject its teaching, nor should we present the outright rejection of what the Bible says as a way to deal with its statements that do not conform to modern Western notions of right and wrong. We seek to be transformed by the renewing of our minds through the Bible, not to be liberated from it that we might be conformed to this world (Rom 12:2).

For evangelical classrooms, a better introduction to Paul’s letters may be found in John Polhill’s Paul and His Letters, and the best Pauline theology remains Thomas R. Schreiner’s Paul: Apostle of God’s Glory in Christ.

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The Kingdom of God

What is the kingdom of God? The answer cannot be reduced to a word study of the term kingdom. That would be a helpful exercise, but the Bible describes the kingdom even when the word is not used.

Any kingdom will consist of a king, his realm, its citizens, and the law that regulates their lives. This is true of God’s kingdom as well. What follows is a short overview of the Bible’s presentation of God’s rule over God’s people in God’s place according to God’s law.

God’s Rule

Adam is not called a king, but God gives him dominion (Gen. 1:26–28). From the garden forward, God exercises His authority through human rulers, whom He calls to act as His vice-regents. Satan sought to usurp God’s throne, and Adam betrayed the Ruler of the world (3:1–7). God spoke judgment on the Serpent, however, and in the word of judgment came also a promise of redemption (v. 15).

This pattern seen in the garden was repeated once Israel entered the Land of Promise. Just as God had given Adam dominion, so Israel inherited the land, God’s authority being exercised by the Word He spoke to them. Adam rebelled. Israel and her kings followed in his footsteps. God spoke judgment through the prophets, and as Adam was exiled from God’s presence in Eden, Israel was exiled from the land. Here, too, though, promises of redemption permeated the words of judgment, the prophets pointing to a glorious latterday restoration.

After the exile, Israel was restored to the land. Though promises were partially realized, the people continued to wait for the desert to bloom. Then the long-time-coming Messiah, the King of Israel, Jesus, arrived.

Jesus exercised God’s authority in word and deed, commanding unclean spirits and elements, rolling back disease and death. In the plot twist of the eons, Jesus conquered by being killed, gave life by being put to death. Being judged, He brought promised judgment on the Serpent, overcoming the treachery of Adam and Israel’s kings, casting out the usurper and laying claim to God’s kingdom by passing through death to resurrection.

Christ the King then gave gifts to His church, appointing men as Apostles, prophets, and evangelists, and giving pastors and teachers to shepherd His people until His return (Eph. 4:8–11). The undershepherds of the High King mediate His rule through the ministry of the Word. He will return, exercise everlasting dominion, and wear many crowns (Dan. 7:14; Rev. 19:12).

God’s Place

First, Eden was God’s place; after our exile therefrom, God met with Abraham and his sons at particular places. He then met Israel at Sinai, the mountain of God, before leading them into the new Eden, the Land of Promise. At Sinai, God gave Israel the tabernacle, which was later replaced by the temple. Then Jesus came and replaced the temple: in Him God was present, and He became the place where forgiveness of sins was made possible. Jesus gave His followers the indwelling Spirit and authority to forgive and constrain sin, making the church the new temple. Jesus will return and cause the glory of God to cover the dry lands as the waters cover the seas, and then, in the new heaven and earth, the new Jerusalem will be what the Holy of Holies was in the temple: the throne room of God and the Lamb.

God’s People

God speaks of the seed of the Serpent and the seed of the woman in Genesis 3:15. In this context, He speaks the words cursed are youonly to the Serpent (Gen. 3:14). When these words are later spoken to Cain (Gen. 4:11), echoing over Canaan son of Ham (9:25), we see that those who continue in unrepentant opposition to the Lord and His people descend from their father the Devil (see also John 8:44; 1 John 3:8–15). By contrast, the seed of the woman are those who repent of their sin, believe the promises of God, embrace God’s authoritative Word, and keep the commandments of God and the testimony of Jesus (Rev. 12:17).

God’s Law

When God made Adam His vice-regent, God’s Word regulated and empowered him, giving both permissions and prohibitions. We see this dynamic again in Israel, as her kings were to enforce God’s law, being subject to it themselves. Jesus came as the living Word. He was the embodiment of God’s teaching, and He fulfilled the law. God continues to exercise His authority through His Word in the current expression of His kingdom, the church. With the new covenant inaugurated, God’s law is written on our hearts (Jer. 31:33; 1 John 2:20–27), and when Jesus returns, “we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is” (1 John 3:2).

God’s kingdom consists of God’s rule over God’s people in God’s place. God has established His King, Jesus, and by His Spirit He gives life to His people through His Word. God’s people are now sojourners and exiles, making their way through the wilderness to God’s place — the Land of Promise, the city with foundations, the new Jerusalem, the new heaven and the new earth. The kingdom belongs to the Lord, and He will rule over His people in His place according to His Word.

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This post originally appeared in Ligonier’s Tabletalk magazine and can be found on their site here.

Bibliographic info: James M. Hamilton Jr., “Kingdom,” Tabletalk (vol. 35 no. 11 November, 2011), 20–21. [the subtitle "God's place" is at the top of p. 21].

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Intended Allegory in the Song of Songs?

For a number of years now learned interpreters of Scripture have been telling us that the Song of Songs is (primarily) about human love. I put the word primarily in parentheses in that last sentence for a reason. I had grown so accustomed to the emphasis on human love in the Song that I had begun to assume that’s all modern commentators said about it. As I was recently pondering this, I went back and looked at what they actually say. They typically add a word like “primarily” or “mainly,” leaving the door open to a spiritual meaning of the Song. But then when they get into it, all they talk about is human love.

In this post I want to pose a question: is it possible that Solomon intended the Song to have an allegorical layer of meaning?

Usually when you suggest that the Song is about something more than human love, people roll their eyes and write you off as a prude.

I’m not a prude, okay?

I do think the Song is about human love, and I think human love is great. Really great! I love my wife, and I can’t get over God giving us something so surprising, so pleasing, so good as marriage. Everything that happens within the context of this comprehensive interpersonal union of one man and one woman being one flesh is better than any of the perversions people use to ruin it. So I’m on board with human love in the Song.

My question, though, is whether there’s more to the Song than merely human love, more that Solomon, whom I take to have written the Song (cf. Song 1:1), intended his audience to get from this piece of poetry. I’m not out to defend the history of interpretation by asking this question, but it is worth observing that the idea that the Song has a spiritual meaning has been, well, dominant across the ages. Is there exegetical evidence for it, though?

Let me note that by allegory I don’t mean something terribly complicated. Let’s stick with a simple definition from dictionary.com: “a representation of an abstract or spiritual meaning through concrete or material forms; figurative treatment of one subject under the guise of another.” This seems to work for the way Paul uses allegory in Galatians 4:24.

So here’s the simple proposal this post is inviting you to consider: is it possible that Solomon intended to represent the spiritual relationship between God and his people through a poetic depiction of the human relationship between the King and the Bride in the Song of Songs?

What could have prompted Solomon to think of the covenant between Yahweh and Israel as being analogous to human marriage?

Well, in Exodus 34:14–16 Israel is already being warned not to “whore after their gods.” By describing idolatry with the language of prostitution and sexual immorality, Moses is talking about the covenant between Yahweh and Israel as though it is a marriage. So this way of thinking about God’s relationship with his people is well established prior to the time of Solomon, and it continues after Solomon, not least with Hosea, where when Hosea marries Gomer, Hosea plays the part of Yahweh, Gomer the part of Israel.

So I think we can be confident that biblical authors prior to and after Solomon were thinking about a spiritual meaning of marriage, recognizing an analogy between human marriage and God’s covenant with Israel. Is there more specific evidence?

Psalm 45 is perhaps the closest analogy to the Song of Songs in the Old Testament, being a wedding song for Israel’s king. The Psalm begins with a celebration of the king in Psalm 45:1–9, then concludes with an address to the princess marrying the king in 45:10–17. As the psalmist extols the greatness of the king, he says in Psalm 45:6, “Your throne, O God, is forever and ever,” showing—at least—a very tight connection between Yahweh and the king who represents him. With a statement like this in Psalm 45, and with other texts in the OT communicating a very close connection between Israel’s God and Israel’s king (e.g., Num 23:21; Isa 9:6; Jer 23:6; Hos 3:5; Mic 2:13; 5:4; Zech 12:8; 13:7) it would seem natural—not forced or fanciful—to see an analogy between the King and his Bride and Yahweh and Israel in the Song of Songs.

What about evidence that later OT authors might have read the Song this way? Is there anything that points in that direction? The King in the Song is regularly called the Bride’s “beloved.” This particular Hebrew word means different things in different contexts. In some contexts it means “uncle.” It is not often used outside the Song of Songs the way Solomon uses it in the Song. In fact, the only place outside the Song of Songs where the word is used with the same meaning it has in the Song is Isaiah 5:1, where Isaiah writes, “Let me sing for my beloved my love song concerning his vineyard.” What follows in Isaiah 5 makes it clear that Isaiah is referring to Yahweh as his beloved. Given the fact that the only Scripture in which the word is used this way prior to Isaiah is the Song of Songs, it would seem at least possible that Isaiah’s thinking about the Lord has been influenced by the Song, with the result that Isaiah refers to the Lord the way the King is referenced in the Song. A related form, though not exactly the same Hebrew word, is used in a similar way, with reference to the relationship between Yahweh and Israel, in Jeremiah 11:15, Ezekiel 16:8, Psalm 60:5 (MT 60:7)/108:6 (MT 108:7), and 127:2.

There is more that could be said. For instance, the king’s procession to the wedding in Song 3:6–11 seems to have been crafted to recall Israel being led out to Sinai for the wedding between herself and Yahweh, who would dwell with her in the tabernacle and lead her by the pillar of fire and cloud. But the strongest argument for this way of thinking about the Song, it seems to me, comes from Paul telling the Ephesians what marriage is ultimately about in Ephesians 5:32, “This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church.”

Yahweh married Israel at Sinai. When she broke the covenant by whoring after other gods, she was eventually exiled, with the prophets promising a renewal of the broken marriage (see esp. Hos 2:14–23), a new covenant (Jer 31:31–34). Jesus came calling himself the Bridegroom (Matt 9:15), being recognized as such by the Baptist (John 3:29), and laying down his life for his bride (Eph 5:25) that she might be clothed in white linen for the marriage feast of the Lamb (Rev 19:7–8).

The Song of Songs is a poetic summary and interpretation of the Bible’s big story: the descendant of David—king of Israel about whom the promises of 2 Samuel 7 were made (promises resonant with the blessing of Abraham from Genesis 12:1–3, promises that will be realized through the one whose descent can be traced all the way back to Adam, who can thus be identified as the promised seed of the woman from Genesis 3:15)—renews an eden-like intimacy between himself and his Bride, reversing the affects of the fall (cf. Gen 3:16 and Song 7:10). All this is fulfilled in Christ Jesus, son of David, Yahweh incarnate, the one greater than Solomon (Matt 12:42), who initiated the new covenant between himself and his bride, the church, and who will return for the grand consummation when the Bride herself, the new Jerusalem, will descend from heaven having the glory of God (Rev 21:9–11).

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This post originally appeared at Christianity.com.

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Daniel

Son of Man and floating hand,
Mysteries galore.
A statue gold, a dream untold,
Unfold what is in store.

Furnace of fire and lion pit,
Nations there did rage.
The letters on the wall were writ,
And God his people saved.

Antichrist is on the way,
Many now have come,
Those who know their God will stay,
If killed still will not run.

For God his Kingdom will raise up,
And all the dead will rise.
These will suffer, those will shine,
Like stars will be the wise.

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What Flag Do Your Words Wave?

The way that we view the world is reflected in the words that we use to talk about it. At Ray Van Neste’s recommendation I’m beginning to read The Language of Canaan and the Grammar of Feminism by Vernard Eller, a short little book of 56 pages. He quotes Karl Barth on the important point that the words we use reflect our thought structures:

It was, I think, Karl Barth who once said something to the effect that Christians have an obligation to become competent in the “language of Canaan” (i.e., biblical ways of thinking and speaking) rather than simply demanding that everything be translated into our language (i.e., contemporary forms of thought).

This is exactly why I am an inveterate advocate of literal Bible translation–and I refuse to stop using the word “literal” because some people sniff at it.

The point is that if we are trying to learn Biblical Theology, we are trying to access the thoughts of the biblical authors, and for that to happen we need the words they used. I know, I know: you have to make adjustments moving from one language to another, but where possible–and it is usually possible–we should maintain the actual words they used rather than rephrasing things for them. If the biblical author has used the phrase “the good hand of God,” let’s keep that rather than changing it to “the gracious hand,” or “the gracious power.” Hebrew has words for gracious and power and those words are not what the biblical author chose in this case. Are we translating? Or are we re-phrasing because we can improve on what the biblical author wrote?

Among other things, maintaining the words as far as possible helps us see how inter-connected the Bible is, as it preserves biblical intertextuality.

Eller also speaks to the way that the words we use wave certain flags:

although the feminist grammar surely is not deliberately antirhetorical, it is most deliberately political. Its linguistic innovations (such as “chairperson,” “humankind,” “God gives us God’s grace,” “he or she”) are code symbols, each a little red flag bearing the letters FA (Feminist Approved). And the game–the language game–is to score points by the amount of writing that can be labeled FA. “Look: Eller has conceded! Or, if not that, at least an editor has dragged him in. Either way, you can chalk up another one for us.”

The use of our language is not a neutral matter, nor is the translation of the Bible. Bible translators may not be consciously capitulating to the feminist agenda, but when they avoid words like “father” and choose words like “ancestor” or “family leader” instead, points are being scored.

Another reason to learn the biblical languages, and persist in them.

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A Journey through Revelation in Tomball, TX

If you are in the Tomball, Spring, The Woodlands, Magnolia, or Houston area, I join with Pastor Jeff Medders to invite you to Redeemer Church’s first Bible Conference: A Journey through Revelation.

Join us for a journey through one of the most difficult books in the Bible, the book of Revelation.

Four sessions, question and answers, and Christ-centered worship.

SCHEDULE – March 22-23

  • FRIDAY, 22nd, 6:30pm-8:30pm, 2 Sessions, Q&A.
  • SATURDAY, 23rd, 6:30pm-8:30pm, 2 Sessions, Q&A.

*Child Care is provided.

Register here.

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The History and Future of Redemption: Isaiah 6 in Acts 28

Back in September of 2009 I had the privilege of participating in the Evening of Eschatology, and the next day I gave a lecture to the students of The Bethlehem College and Seminary. I knew the lecture had been recorded, but I didn’t know it was online until just now, when I received an email asking for my notes, which are too sparse to pass on.

In this lecture I’m trying to set Isaiah 6:9–10 in the context of the big story of the Bible and look particularly at how and why this text is quoted in all four gospels and at the end of the book of Acts. If you’re interested in a little biblical theology, here you go:

2010-09-28 – Hamilton – HD 720p Video Sharing from Bethlehem College and Seminary on Vimeo.

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THINK|13

The folks at College Park Church in Indianapolis know how to throw a party. I don’t think I’ve ever spoken at a more encouraging church, and I praise God for the way the pastors set the tone for the whole church to receive the word of God with enthusiasm. It was a blessing, too, to have them take such good care of my sweet wife and our kids. I was supposed to be ministering to them, but they were the ones ministering to us!

This past weekend it was my privilege to preach five times at THINK|13 at College Park Church in Indianapolis (photos here). The theme was “Finding Your Place in God’s Story.” Here are the titles linked up to the audio for the five sessions:

In an attempt to help folks remember these session themes, I opened by introducing a “memory palace” inspired by Moonwalking with Einstein. You can hear all about that in the audio for the first session.

Hoping to encapsulate the big story of the Bible and the five sessions, I attempted a poem for the conclusion of the fifth message.

What a blessing to be with the people of God, and what a blessing to have God’s word, which reveals to us the salvation planned by the Father, accomplished by the Son, applied by the Spirit.

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As Deserts Are with Sands

Set in vast realms of space
Across an untold time
The sprawling story he creates,
Sings the song sublime.

The music pure made matter hard,
The words became the real.
What is was built by his mere word,
The worlds the words do feel.

A garden sprang up from the song,
Replete with sacred tree,
The sounds had no notes in them wrong,
Though people there were free.

So when they chose to disobey,
Transgress God’s holy word,
The judgment wrought a disarray,
Unsheathing death’s sharp sword.

He sang again in Egypt land
His people to redeem.
By outstretched arm and his strong hand,
The Lord made freedom ring.

At Sinai Ten Words Yahweh spoke,
The people ate and played,
At Sinai tablets Moses broke
When golden calf was made.

In mercy wide with steadfast love
The Lord he made a way
Through trackless waste, bread from above,
Water from rock he gave.

Like Adam then the people sinned,
Transgressed the holy word,
Forsook their faithful only friend,
The Lord, their Shepherd.

Like Adam then from the land,
Israel was driven,
With consequences of command,
Asunder they were riven.

The covenant was broken,
The marriage bond no more,
Yet the Lord had spoken,
Of hope beyond death’s door.

And then the bridegroom came,
Prophesied of old,
Then heard the deaf and walked the lame,
And word was spoken bold.

To kill him his own people sought,
The murderer went free.
Salvation on the tree was wrought,
Mysterious to see.

While they meant evil God meant good,
A remnant he would save,
In whose place condemned he stood,
Then rose up from the grave.

Someday soon he’ll split the skies,
The trumpet call resound,
From their graves the dead will rise,
At white throne gather round.

Wheat from chaff, sheep from goats,
The Lord will separate.
Those who made the cross their boast,
Who sought the narrow gate,
Will on that day reward receive,
Who claimed Christ as their Lord,
Who in him with whole heart believed,
Clinging to his word.

And glory bright and glory fair
Will cover the dry lands,
Full as heavens are with air,
Or deserts are with sands.

The Lord will have his way on earth,
His Kingdom he will bring,
So through the pangs of this childbirth,
In faith and hope we sing.

[composed Thursday, February 28, 2013]

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God’s Indwelling Presence: Five Sermons on the Spirit

Were old covenant believers indwelt by the Holy Spirit? What does the Old Testament say about where God took up residence? What does the New Testament say about the issue? If believing members of the old covenant remnant were not indwelt by the Spirit, how did they believe and remain faithful? What about those whom the Old Testament describes as having the Spirit in or on them?

And then there’s the question of the Old Testament’s promise of a new experience of the Holy Spirit – how does that fit in the big storyline of the Bible?

Can we take a close look at what the gospel of John says about these issues?

What about the Spirit in Acts?

Can I get some help from Romans 8 on how to overcome the flesh by setting my mind on the Spirit?

If you’ve asked these questions, you might be interested in my book God’s Indwelling Presence: The Holy Spirit in the Old and New Testaments. I don’t address every one of these questions in that book, but those questions are the ones that drive the five sermons on the Spirit that I preached at the Winter Bible Conference at Grace Church of Tallahassee January 25–27, 2013. On that page, by the way, there are also links to the talks Michael Haykin gave on Scripture and the ones Bruce Ware gave on Beholding the Glory.

Here are the titles of the sessions I did:

Session 1 – The Holy Spirit and Old Covenant Believers
Session 2 – The Promise of the Holy Spirit in the Old Testament
Session 3 – The Holy Spirit in John
Session 4 – The Holy Spirit in Acts
Session 5 – The Holy Spirit in Romans
Questions & Answers Session

Audio and video for each session available on the Grace Church of Tallahassee site.

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The Epic Quest of Your Life

The Journey to the Bible’s World: The Epic Quest of Your Life

Sydney Carton went to a far better rest than he had ever known. Jane Eyre heard the voice of her old master. Alexei helped his brother Dmitri escape. Raskolnikov found grace with Sonya. Jean Valjean became a father to Cosette. Bilbo found the ring. Frodo carried it to Mount Doom. The man and the boy carried the fire on the road. Jeeves saved the day, repeatedly, as Bertie’s keeper. Harry faced down Voldemort, laying down his life for his friends.

These events that take place in great stories only make sense in the context of the wider narrative in which they’re set. In the novels, these events are powerful, thought provoking, moving, beautiful. But if you haven’t read the stories and don’t know the context, they mean very little.

Jesus accomplished an exodus in Jerusalem. He came as the lamb of God. He called himself the bridegroom. He spoke of his death in terms of the tearing down of the temple. When he died on the cross, dead people came out of their graves.

Like the events in the novels, these things about Jesus make sense when read against the back-story that gives them meaning. It can be hard to see the big story of the Bible because the narrative thread is harder to pick up than it is in most novels.

When I first started reading the Bible, it puzzled me that though this book was the one inspired by God, it seemed to me that other books were so much easier (and seemingly more fun) to read. Those other books seemed so much easier to understand. Often those other books were putting life’s big questions right on the surface. Reading other books was like picking low-hanging fruit. Reading the Bible was like searching for diamonds in a desert.

The problem was not with the Bible. The problem was with me and my expectations. For all the fun and ease I found in stories, I couldn’t find answers. I couldn’t find Truth.

If our fingers learn to feel the Bible’s narrative thread, we can follow that thread through the desert to the diamonds. We will feel the power and beauty of the descriptions of Jesus in the Gospels because the notes they sound will resonate in music our ears have learned to hear. The imagery will communicate rather than confuse. We will come away thinking the biblical authors were not only inspired but of subtly brilliant, no more thinking other writers tell better tales. We will come to see that the best of the world’s writers have merely sought to capture something of the shimmer on the Bible’s pages.

This is what biblical theology is for: to take you to Truth, to lead you all the way to God.

If you understand biblical theology, you won’t think that Homer, Virgil, Dickens, and Hugo were better storytellers than Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. You won’t think the Gospels rough and rude. You’ll see how they’re carefully crafted, structurally sound, climactic presentations of a story far more significant than any novelist invented.

If you come to understand biblical theology, the Bible will explain not merely what God has done in Christ but the whole world and its fullness, including but not limited to the world’s great works of literature. Better: you will learn the insight of the men of Issachar, who understood the times and knew what Israel should do.

Best: if you come to understand biblical theology, it will be because you will have come to know God. You will understand what the Spirit inspired the biblical authors to write, and if the Lord has truly made you a biblical theologian, you will see how your life fits in the Bible’s big story, the true story of the world. You will have learned the interpretive perspective of the biblical authors, embraced it, and begun to apply it to your own life.

Becoming a biblical theologian is an epic task worthy of every human being. It goes beyond the mere reading of books on the topic, though that will aid those who join this quest. It requires a lifelong study of the Scriptures for the glory of the Father in the power of the Spirit by faith in the Son.

Are you ready to begin your journey? This is an adventure that will take you into the real world, the world of the Bible. And my prayer is that once you’ve been there, you’ll never want to be anywhere else. Count the cost. Bring your Bible. Join me for THINK|13.

This post also appeared today on the College Park Church Blog.

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Winter Bible Conference, Grace Church Tallahassee

Grace Church of Tallahassee, Florida is hosting a Winter Bible Conference January 25–27, 2013. I’ll be speaking on the Holy Spirit. Here are the session topics and times:

Friday, January 25, 7pm, The Holy Spirit and Old Covenant Believers
Saturday, January 26, 9am, The Promise of the Holy Spirit in the Old Testament
Saturday, January 26, 10:45am, The Holy Spirit in John
Sunday, January 27, 9:45am, They Holy Spirit in Acts
Sunday, January 27, 10:45am, The Holy Spirit in Romans

If you’re in the area, I would love to see you there. If you’re not in the area, you can get my take on these topics here.

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Amen: Credo Interview with Schreiner on Biblical Theology

The first few questions and answers from the Credo Interview with Dr. Thomas R. Schreiner on his new book, The King in His Beauty:

There has been something of a “renaissance” in the publication of “whole bible” theologies in recent years. Where does your contribution stand in relation to these other works?

First of all I think we should celebrate the publication of whole bible theologies. What an encouraging sign that Christians in our age want to understand the whole counsel of God. Evangelicals, in particular, play a leading role here, for we believe that the scriptures cohere, that there is a unified story instead of sound and fury signifying nothing.
Second, I won’t mention all the other works that have been written, but I can say I have read and profited from them immensely. Generally speaking my work is less technical and hence more accessible than some of the works out there. I wanted to write a book that a busy pastor, college student, or interested layperson could grasp and understand. Whether I have succeeded or not is for others to say.
Third, I wanted my book to focus especially on scripture itself instead of what other scholars say. I wanted to show inductively by quoting or referring to scripture that the theology I presented was in accord with what the biblical writers were saying. This is not to say that I didn’t learn a great deal from many other scholars in my research and study. They were immensely helpful.

What are you trying to capture with the title “you will see the king in his beauty”?

The words come from Isaiah 33. I wanted to emphasize why it matters that the Lord is king. The story is about God conquering Satan, sin, and death. But why would we want to be on the winning side? It is because in the new creation (the new Jerusalem, the new heavens and earth) we will see the king in his beauty. We will be enraptured by our God and Jesus Christ forever.

Its been a fairly common theme in academic circles that a whole bible theology cannot be done or should not be done. Some suggest that labeling the Jewish Tanakh as the “Old Testament” is inherently racist and/or imperialistic. What’s your take on the “possibility” of a whole Bible theology?

Your question relates to what I said in answer to the first question. As evangelicals we believe in a unified story, in a canon that coheres, in a narrative that goes somewhere. Academic scholarship has typically maintained that there are different and even contradictory theologies in the scriptures. But as evangelicals we believe in diversity with an overall unity. Is our stance imperialistic toward the OT? It all depends upon your stance toward biblical revelation. We believe that the message of Jesus and the apostles, rightly interpreted, points toward an old covenant and a new covenant. We don’t believe we are imposing our own biases on scripture but receiving and transmitting the revelation given to us. We understand why those from other perspectives would disagree. The exclusivity of the Christian gospel has always been scandalous.

The question of “method” in particularly acute when attempting the bridge the Hebrew and Christian canon. What is your approach to “method” in terms of historical reconstruction of the literature, the reading of individual texts, and relating them across the canon?

I don’t engage in historical reconstruction in writing my biblical theology. Instead, I accept the canonical shape of the scriptures and the text as it has come down to us as the source for biblical theology. I read the texts from a certain perspective. I assume they are telling a unified story, but I also believe it is imperative to listen to the contribution of each writer and piece of literature.
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The Other 2013 Book I’m Most Excited to See

Tom Schreiner’s New Testament Theology was hailed by Simon Gathercole as “a magnificent acheivement.” What shall we say, then, about his new whole Bible theology, bearing the matchless title, The King in His Beauty?

I can say that there’s not a saner, clearer, shrewder, godlier scholar I know. No one humbler or happier, no one whose life better matches what he preaches and teaches. No one whose writings I find more helpful, more convincing, more instructive. As I’ve read Schreiner over the years, I’ve been so often edified. So many times I’ve been impressed by his ability to summarize so much scholarship so succinctly, and so often I’ve seen him solve what seemed to be intractable difficulties with straightforward common sense that accounts for everything in the text. I don’t know anyone who has read more, anyone more charitable in dispute, anyone more willing to learn from those of different perspectives, and I can’t think of anyone that I’ve learned more from than Tom Schreiner.

In fact, I’m having a hard time thinking of a point where he has failed to convince me. And I can be pretty disagreeable!

So in addition to Brian Vickers’ Justification by Grace through Faith, the other book I’m most looking forward to in 2013 is Tom Schreiner’s The King in His Beauty. These two books will make it a banner year in publishing for SBTS faculty, and then there’s the other other book I’m most looking forward to in 2012 from Denny Burk–what can I say!? All three are superlative. Stay tuned.

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New Post at Christianity.Com: Intended Allegory in the Song of Songs?

Over at Christianity.Com I ask whether there is exegetical evidence that Solomon intended an allegorical layer of meaning in the Song of Songs. Here’s the opening:

For a number of years now learned interpreters of Scripture have been telling us that the Song of Songs is (primarily) about human love. I put the word primarily in parentheses in that last sentence for a reason. I had grown so accustomed to the emphasis on human love in the Song that I had begun to assume that’s all modern commentators said about it. As I was recently pondering this, I went back and looked at what they actually say. They typically add a word like “primarily” or “mainly,” leaving the door open to a spiritual meaning of the Song. But then when the get into it, all they talk about is human love.

In this post I want to pose a question: is it possible that Solomon intended the Song to have an allegorical layer of meaning?

Usually when you suggest that the Song is about something more than human love, people roll their eyes and write you off as a prude.

I’m not a prude, okay?

I do think the Song is about human love, and I think human love is great. Really great! I love my wife, and I can’t get over God giving us something so surprising, so pleasing, so good as marriage. Everything that happens within the context of this comprehensive interpersonal union of one man and one woman being one flesh is better than any of the perversions people use to ruin it. So I’m on board with human love in the Song.

My question, though, is whether there’s more to the Song than merely human love, more that Solomon, whom I take to have written the Song (cf. Song 1:1), intended his audience to get from this piece of poetry. I’m not out to defend the history of interpretation by asking this question, but it is worth observing that the idea that the Song has a spiritual meaning has been, well, dominant across the ages. Is there exegetical evidence for it, though?

I consider the exegetical evidence in the rest of the post.

Related: I’m preaching through the Song at Kenwood, and the sermons are on this page.

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Review of Goldsworthy, Christ-Centered Biblical Theology

This review was originally posted at TGC Reviews

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Graeme Goldsworthy, Christ-Centered Biblical Theology: Hermeneutical Foundations and Principles. Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 2012. 251pp. $20.00, paper.

Let me begin by saying what Graeme Goldsworthy’s Christ-Centered Biblical Theology: Hermeneutical Foundations and Principles is not. This book is not a sustained argument that Christ is the center of biblical theology, though that view is repeatedly asserted.[1] Nor is this book an exposition of a selection of biblical themes, a book by book trek through the Bible, or a survey of salvation history.

What, then, is it?

The subtitle approaches its content, but more than anything else the book is an explanation and defense of the biblical theology of Donald Robinson. Goldsworthy dedicates the book to Robinson, exposits his schematic approach to biblical theology, defends it as superior to a “Vos–Clowney” model, and concludes with discussions of “Robinson’s typology” and “The Robinson Legacy.”

The main difference between what Goldsworthy terms the Robinson–Hebert[2] model as opposed to that of the Vos–Clowney crowd seems to be in how the divisions or “epochs” of OT history are conceived and made. In distinction from the Vos–Clowney approach, which favors an epochal division of OT history and sees great significance in the Sinai covenant made with Moses, Goldsworthy champions the way the Robinson–Hebert model works less in terms of “epochs” and more in terms of “modes of revelation” (171). Goldsworthy insists that foregrounding Abraham and the eschatology announced by the prophets makes it easier to see how patterns and prophecies are fulfilled in Jesus. He states, “This pattern of recapitulation is the one highlighted by Donald Robinson and Gabriel Hebert and that, in my opinion, provides a better understanding of the matrix of revelation than the pattern of epochs proposed by Vos, Murray and Clowney” (149). Goldsworthy’s view is that the Robinson–Hebert approach makes Moses less a new departure and more an outworking of the covenant with Abraham, and thus better fits the biblical material. Rather than seeing Moses as a prominent new departure, Goldsworthy would see the Bible’s big story breaking down as follows: Creation to Abraham, then David, then the prophets, then fulfillment achieved by Jesus, concluding with the New Creation (26).

Goldsworthy presents this as putting students of the Bible in better position to understand how the New Testament claims fulfillment of the Old. He writes, “As I have been at pains to demonstrate, the typological structure Robinson arrives at differs somewhat from the epochal structures determined by Vos and his disciples. . . . These are not so much epochs as modes of revelation” (171). And then he quotes Robinson on the way the patterns of OT history would find fulfillment in what Christ brings:

There would be a new Exodus, a new redemption from slavery and a new entry into the land of promise . . . a new covenant and a new law . . . . a new Jerusalem . . . a new David . . . a new Temple . . . . It would not be too much to say that Israel’s history, imperfectly experienced in the past, would find its perfect fulfillment “in that day” (173).

This understanding is based on the view that Israel’s prophets use Israel’s past as a paradigm that points to Israel’s future: “The key point is that the prophetic perspectives of the future restoration and ultimate salvation are based on, and follow the pattern of, the salvation history of the past” (133).

I think that Goldsworthy and Robinson are correct about these patterns, but I doubt that the Vos–Clowney crowd would disagree, nor am I convinced their stance on “epochs” and the approach they take to the mosaic covenant hinder them from arriving at similar conclusions.[3] Some of these differences relate to broader, more systematic-theological commitments, as Goldsworthy himself acknowledges when he comments on the Westminster Confession and the 39 Articles (169 n. 11).

There are two issues in this book where I think Goldsworthy could be clearer, one having to do with the center of biblical theology, the other with what biblical theology is and how we are to pursue it. I have argued that the glory of God in salvation through judgment is the center of biblical theology, so I am glad to see that Goldsworthy regards the search for the center as not only valid but necessary. He writes,

The question to be put to those evangelicals who reject a “centre” in favour of a multiplex approach is, what gives the Bible its unity? Once we undertake to describe “A Biblical Theology”, as opposed to “Biblical Theologies”, we are bound to attempt to organize our material on the basis of some central principle theme or person. We cannot assert the unity of the word of God and at the same time relegate its description to the too-hard basket (109).[4]

I am glad that Goldsworthy sees the need for a center, but he could be clearer on what he thinks the center is. It might be objected that the title of this book makes plain what Goldsworthy sees as the center of biblical theology: Christ-Centered Biblial Theology, and at several points in the book he makes affirmations to that effect:

  • “Christ as the centre of biblical theology” (31).
  • “the role of Jesus Christ as the centre to which all Scripture leads” (32).
  • “there is the lack of consensus about the nature, the principles and the method of biblical theology. . . . my main purpose in this investigation is to try to establish an approach that is consistent with biblical presuppositions and that is ultimately Christ-centred” (35).
  • Jesus is “the central subject matter of the Hebrew Scriptures” (45).
  • “evangelical biblical theology should proceed with the presuppositions of the unity of Scripture and the centrality of Christ” (47).
  • “the central role of Jesus Christ” (216).
  • “central focus on Christ” (217).
  • “The sufficiency of Christ stretches to his sufficiency as the fulfilling centre of the whole canon of Scripture” (225).

It would appear from all this that Goldsworthy thinks that Christ is the center of biblical theology, right? Perhaps, but Goldsworthy also says in this book: “Thus I stand by my initial suggestion that the central theme of Scripture is the kingdom of God defined simply as God’s people in God’s place under God’s rule” (75).

Goldsworthy does not offer a discussion that attempts to reconcile these two affirmations. He offers no harmonization of them, so any suggestion as to how he can affirm that both Christ and the kingdom of God are the center of biblical theology would be mere speculation. He needs to clarify this. I can imagine those who contend that the search for a center is “chimerical” (Carson) and “an obsession” (Scobie) citing what Goldsworthy does here as evidence for their cause: an advocate for the idea that biblical theology has a center cannot pick one and actually affirms two different centers in the same book. Ouch.

For my part, I would identify the center of biblical theology with what the biblical authors indicate is God’s ultimate purpose, what they present as being the grand theme out of which every other theme is birthed and to which every other theme flows, and I contend that God’s ultimate purpose is to make known his glory, particularly in displays of justice that highlight his mercy, the supreme example of this being the cross of Christ.[5]

The other area where Goldsworthy could be clearer is on the very definition of biblical theology, which directly affects the method we use to pursue the task. Goldsworthy writes,

So, let us begin with a broadly consensual definition of biblical theology as the discipline that seeks to understand the theological message, or messages, communicated through the variety of literary phenomena within the various books of the Bible (39).

He goes on to say, “By ‘theology’ we mean that which is revealed of God and his ways” (54), having also stated that,

Biblical theology happens when we engage part or all of the biblical text and endeavor to lay bare the theological content that is there. The immediate goal is not the formulation of Christian doctrine for today, but rather an understanding of what this biblical text reveals about God and his ways with his creation (39).

This is fine as far as it goes. The problem is that it does not go very far, nor is it either very descriptive or very precise. Can we not say more than that we are after the “theological message,” that “theology” has to do with what is “revealed of God,” and that we are trying to “lay bare the theological content that is there”?

Goldsworthy also says that “biblical theology is concerned with the structures of revelation and with the ways in which the unity of the biblical canon can be described” (40). What does he mean by “the structures of revelation”? It would seem that he refers here to the “Robinson–Hebert schema” he defends, which he also refers to as “stages of revelation: biblical history, prophetic eschatology and the fulfillment achieved by Christ” (221). Since these “structures” and “stages” of revelation transcend the work of any one biblical author, Goldsworthy appears to be interpreting the work of the divine author as he does biblical theology. This may explain why Goldsworthy does not often engage directly with the biblical text. His brand of biblical theology is more presuppositional, theological, and philosophical than it is exegetical.

This is my biggest concern about Goldsworthy’s approach: which biblical author provides the warrant for the Robinson–Hebert schema? Is this schema an interpretation of a statement made by a biblical author? Is Goldsworthy interpreting the intentions of a particular biblical author? Or is this an interpretation of a reconstructed history derived from multiple biblical books? That is to say, is this an interpretation of particular biblical texts or an interpretation of a historical construct derived from the texts? Or perhaps this is an interpretation of the final form of the canon—and in that case does Goldsworthy envision a human “canonicler” who intended this meaning to arise out of the whole or must he appeal only to the intentions of the divine author?

I would contend that a more precise definition of biblical theology will enable us to pursue a method that is easier to describe, practice, and verify. In my view, it is better to define biblical theology along these lines: biblical theology is the attempt to understand the interpretive perspective of the biblical authors. We are trying to discern the worldview behind the statements they make.[6] We who believe the Bible should also adopt the worldview of the biblical authors.[7] This anchors biblical theology in authorial intent, and we need not bifurcate the intention of the human and divine authors. We know what the divine author intended to communicate because we understand what he inspired the human authors to write.

Defining biblical theology as the pursuit of the interpretive perspective of the biblical authors brings methodological clarity as we focus in on how later biblical authors interpreted earlier Scripture, and with the first biblical author, Moses, we can examine how he has interpreted the events he narrates. These interpretations will be reflected in the choices made regarding what to include or exclude and how what is included has been presented. We have an interpreted account of the world in the Bible, and biblical theology seeks to discern the perspective from which the world has been interpreted.[8] The crafting of narrative and poetry is obviously relevant here, as are intertextuality and typology, and all of this is verifiable as we use criteria for analyzing poetics, quotations, allusions, and echoes to arbitrate such questions as the author’s intentions and whether and how a later author has evoked and interpreted earlier texts. We cannot achieve absolute certainty, but we can be more precise, closer to the text, and more clear about exactly what we are after.[9]

Many of us have learned a great deal from Graeme Goldsworthy. He has done as much as anyone in our day to draw attention to the importance of and need for biblical theology. This book, Christ-Centered Biblical Theology, recounts the personal nature of his own journey, attests his love and appreciation for his teacher, Donald Robinson, and thereby encourages all who serve in like manner to persevere in love for students and passion for the Lord and his Word.



[1] The spelling of the word “center” varies: “centered” is on the cover, but the Aussie “centre” prevails through the text.

[2] Goldsworthy provides an interesting tidbit about Hebert in footnote 10 on page 168, “These concepts of inspiration and authority would mean for Hebert something different from Robinson’s biblicism. Despite this, Hebert as a conservative Anglo-Catholic nevertheless had a high view of Scripture and a clear sense of the structure of Revelation. See A. G. Hebert, The Authority of the Old Testament . . . , and Fundamentalism and the Church of God . . . The latter contains some criticism of evangelical views of Scripture and provoked a response from James I. Packer, ‘Fundamentalism’ and the Word of God . . .” For his own part Goldsworthy repeatedly affirms the unity of the Bible, its status as inspired revelation (e.g., 40–41, 54), that God makes no mistakes, and that the Bible is “self-authenticating, infallible” . . . and that these attributes are “the foundation of a hermeneutic of authorial intent” (43).

[3] Goldsworthy writes, “It is the sensitivity to this, so central to Robinson’s schema, that seems to be missing from the works of Vos and Clowney but brought out to some extent by Dennis Johnson” (134). I wonder if this has more to do with the historical situation and interpretive atmosphere of those named than it has to do with the adoption of a particular approach to conceptualizing OT history.

[4] He also comments on “the delineation of the centre of biblical theology that gives Scripture its unity” (109), and, acknowledging those who raise “the caution about a centre,” he writes, “I regard these men as being overcautious in this matter. Somewhere along the line we have to ask what gives the Scriptures their unity” (216).

[5] See further James M. Hamilton, God’s Glory in Salvation Through Judgment: A Biblical Theology (Wheaton: Crossway, 2010).

[6] Ibid., 41–42, 355.

[7] I think this is what Goldsworthy is after when he writes, “Biblical theology . . . is, after all, a name we give to the divine imperative to the church to listen to God’s Word and to live in submission to its authority” (217).

[8] I pursue these issues further in a forthcoming project, James M. Hamilton, What Is Biblical Theology? (Wheaton: Crossway, 2013).

[9] So if we appeal, for instance, to our exegesis of Galatians 3 to show that Paul understood the promises to Abraham to take priority over the covenant with Moses, and that the covenant with Moses at Sinai flows out of them, we can be more precise and definitive. By contrast, without appeal to Galatians 3, relying on a wide-angle discussion of the OT, Goldsworthy says, “From the foregoing summary of the major persons, places and events in the biblical history, it becomes evident, I believe, that it is more natural to the biblical accounts to understand the watershed in revelation to be David and Solomon, not Moses” (132). Whereas an exegetical discussion of Galatians 3 can be analyzed, Goldsworthy’s claims are more impressionistic, less verifiable.

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Typology Preserves Biblical Inerrancy Against Ehrman’s Mistake

Bart Ehrman describes why he left the faith in his book Misquoting Jesus (8–9):

A turning point came in my second semester . . . . we had to write a final term paper on an interpretive crux of our own choosing. I chose a passage in Mark 2, where Jesus is confronted by the Pharisees because his disciples had been walking through a grain field, eating the grain on the Sabbath. Jesus wants to show the Pharisees that “Sabbath was made for humans, not humans for the Sabbath” and so reminds them of what the great King David had done when he and his men were hungry, how they went into the Temple “when Abiathar was the high priest” and at the show bread, which was only for the priests to eat. One of the well-known problems of the passage is that when one looks at the Old Testament passage that Jesus is citing (1 Sam. 21:1–6), it turns out that David did this not when Abiathar was the high priest, but, in fact, when Abiathar’s father Ahimelech was. In other words, this is one of those passages that have been pointed to in order to show that the Bible is not inerrant at all but contains mistakes.

In my paper for Professor Story, I developed a long and complicated argument to the effect that even though Mark indicates this happened “when Abiathar was the high priest,” it doesn’t really mean that Abiathar was the high priest, but that the event took place in the part of the scriptural text that has Abiathar as one of the main characters. My argument was based on the meaning of the Greek words involved and was a bit convoluted. I was pretty sure Professor Story would appreciate the argument, since I knew him as a good Christian scholar who obviously (like me) would never think there could be anything like a genuine error in the Bible. But at the end of my paper he made a simple one-line comment that for some reason went straight through me. He wrote: “Maybe Mark just made a mistake.” I started thinking about it, considering all the work I had put into the paper, realizing that I had had to do some pretty fancy exegetical footwork to get around the problem, and that my solution was in fact a bit of a stretch. I finally concluded, “Hmm . . . maybe Mark did make a mistake.”

Once I made that admission, the floodgates opened. For if there could be one little, picayune mistake in Mark 2, maybe there could be mistakes in other places as well. . . .

I am convinced that Ehrman is mistaken, not Mark. In the passage Ehrman describes, Mark 2:23–28, Mark presents Jesus making a sophisticated interpretive connection by using the name “Abiathar.” That is, neither Mark nor Jesus is in error. Rather, Mark is presenting Jesus using the name Abiathar in the service of a wider, typological connection. I would invite you to consider the questions I ask about this passage in “The Typology of David’s Rise to Power” (13):

Much discussion has been generated by the fact that Mark 2:26 portrays Jesus referring to “the time of Abiathar the high priest,” when it appears that at the time, Ahimelech would have been the high priest. Goppelt simply asserts: “Mark says Abiathar, but that is an error.”[1] But perhaps there are typological forces at work here, too. David did interact with Ahimelech in 1 Samuel 21:1–9, but Abiathar is the priest who escapes from Doeg’s slaughter (22:20). Could the reference to Abiathar be intentional? Could Mark be presenting Jesus as intentionally alluding to Abiathar’s escape from the slaughter of the priests ordered by Saul and carried out by Doeg the Edomite? Could this be a subtle way for Jesus to remind the Pharisees (“Have you never read,” Mark 2:25) that the opposition to David was wicked and murderous? If this is so, the typological connection suggested by the reference to Abiathar in Mark might be that just as Saul and Doeg opposed David and Abiathar’s household, so also the Pharisees are opposing Jesus and his followers.[2]

In the wider context of this paragraph I discuss the flow of the passage in Samuel and the kind of interpretation Mark presents. Thanks to the generosity of The Southern Baptist Journal of Theology, a PDF of the essay is free to you.



[1] Goppelt, Typos, 85 n. 106.

[2] Having come to this position, I was pleased to find a similar suggestion in Rikk E. Watts, “Mark,” in Commentary on the New Testament Use of the Old Testament, ed. G. K. Beale and D. A. Carson (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2007), 141: “If the point is to establish an authoritative precedent, then the actions of Abiathar, as Ahimelech’s son, in taking the ephod to David to become his chief priest and subsequent blessing underscore God’s affirmation of Ahimelech’s decision, his presence with David, and his abandonment of David’s opponent Saul. Not only are Jesus’ disciples justified, but also to oppose them (and, of course, Jesus) is to oppose both ‘David’ and ultimately God, who vindicated him and will also vindicate Jesus.”

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The Typology of David’s Rise to Power: Messianic Patterns in the Book of Samuel

What is Typology? How do the biblical authors develop typological connections?

Can we read the Bible the way the biblical authors did?

These are some of the questions I seek to address in an essay that has just appeared in The Southern Baptist Journal of Theology. Thanks to the generosity of the editor, Steve Wellum (author of, with Peter Gentry, Kingdom through Covenant) and SBTS, I have permission to post a PDF of the essay here:

The Typology of David’s Rise to Power: Messianic Patterns in the Book of Samuel,” SBJT 16.2 (2012): 4–25.

This essay has a history that I want to record. I can remember teaching the book of Acts in Sunday School at Clifton Baptist Church in Louisville when I was a PhD student at SBTS. This was around 2002–2003. I needed the categories and language of typology, but I had neither. Over and over I felt that I could see Luke doing what I would now describe as typology, but I was at a loss to describe it well. It’s really wonderful what knowing the right word for the right thing will enable you to say.

In 2005 I began to work on a project that was eventually published as “The Virgin Will Conceive: Typological Fulfillment in Matthew 1:18–23,” pages 228–47 in Built upon the Rock: Studies in the Gospel of Matthew, ed. John Nolland and Dan Gurtner (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008). As I was working on what Matthew meant when he claimed fulfillment of Isaiah 7:14 in Matthew 1:18–23, I found my way into the field of typology, and what really introduced me to it was E. Earle Ellis’s Foreword to Leonhard Goppelt’s book Typos.

It was my privilege to preach through 1–2 Samuel at Baptist Church of the Redeemer from July 2006 to January of 2008, and as I worked through Samuel I saw many places where NT authors seemed to have been influenced by the patterns in the book of Samuel. In late January or early February of 2008, while teaching at SWBTS Houston, I was invited to present a Julius Brown Gay lecture at Southern Seminary in Louisville, KY. I decided to use my acquaintance with the book of Samuel gained from preaching the book and do more exploration in the field of typology, so I wrote the essay that is the subject of this post at that time. I presented it as a Julius Brown Gay lecture at Southern Seminary on March 13, 2008. The audio of that presentation (which is me basically reading most of this essay) is here. I was then invited to join the faculty of SBTS, which I was honored to do in August of 2008.

That winter Steve Wellum, editor of SBJT, wanted to publish “The Typology of David’s Rise” with a response from Robert Yarbrough. There was a mixup of communication (for which I’m happy to claim responsibility), and instead of giving Dr. Wellum this essay I wrote another one, “Was Joseph a Type of the Messiah? Tracing the Typological Identification between Joseph, David, and Jesus,” SBJT 12.4 (2008), 52–77. I’m sorry for the mixup in communication, but I’m grateful that I had an opportunity to explore these typological connections further. Writing “Was Joseph a Type?” certainly clarified my own thinking.

Writing is perhaps the best way to learn. Nothing clarifies a concept or thought process in your own mind like the challenge of thinking out exactly what you are trying to say and how to say it.

Because of the way that Earle Ellis introduced me to the subject of typology through his preface to Goppelt’s book and his many other writings, and in gratitude for the kindness he showed me when I was his junior colleague on the SWBTS faculty, I dedicated the lecture, now published as an essay, to him. He died on March 2, 2010.

I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to be one of the faculty on SWBTS’s Oxford Study Tour in the summer of 2005, and Dr. Ellis led our tour of the British Museum. Jason Duesing took this photo of us at that time.

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